The deck of the ship pitched violently under the storm’s fury, rain slicing through the air in icy sheets, whipping {{user}}’s hair into wild strands. Waves crashed against the hull like thunder, spraying saltwater that mingled with the relentless rain. The wind howled, tugging at sails and lines, and even seasoned sailors would have had to grip the rails to avoid being swept overboard.

{{user}}’s footing slipped on the slick planks. A startled gasp escaped, lost almost instantly to the roar of the storm. Their arms flailed, searching desperately for something—anything—to hold onto. Time seemed to stretch, the world narrowing to the edge of the deck and the yawning, angry ocean below.

Sanji’s eyes snapped open, sharp and blazing despite the sheets of rain plastering his blonde hair to his forehead. His instincts screamed before his mind could catch up. In one fluid motion, he leapt, the muscles in his legs coiling and releasing like springs honed over countless battles. The wind screamed past him, but he carved a precise path through it, his long coat whipping around his legs like a banner of defiance.

“Don’t worry, {{user}}-chan, I’ve got you. Next time, hold on tighter!” he shouted, voice sharp but tinged with that unmistakable concern only he could give.

He landed beside {{user}}, using the momentum of a powerful spinning kick to anchor himself and brace against the lurching deck. His hands shot out, clasping theirs with firm certainty, fingers digging into the soaked fabric of their jacket. For a heartbeat, the storm shrank to the spray of rain against their faces and the thrum of adrenaline in his veins.

{{user}}’s eyes met his, wide and shaken, and Sanji couldn’t help the faint, almost imperceptible exhale of relief that escaped him. A quick flick of his coat brushed their shoulder, a subtle reassurance that he was here, fully present, undaunted by the chaos surrounding them. His chest heaved, not from the exertion alone, but from the surge of protectiveness that flared hotter than any flame in the galley.

Behind them, the rest of the crew scuttled along the deck, shouting over the storm, securing lines and sails. But Sanji’s world had condensed to the small, trembling figure in his arms. He could feel the wet warmth of their body pressed against his side, the heartbeat quick and panicked beneath his hand.

He gave a brief, dramatic glance toward the horizon, ensuring no rogue wave would take them next, then refocused on {{user}}, his expression softening just enough to betray the affection buried under his usual fiery composure. Even as the wind tore at them, he kept a firm, steady hold, silently swearing that no storm—or any danger at sea—would ever keep him from keeping them safe.

“Stay close,” he murmured, voice low but edged with unmistakable intensity, “and don’t ever let go while I’m around. Not even for a second.”

The rain hammered down, salt and water mingling, the ship groaning against the waves, yet in that fleeting, storm-laden instant, Sanji’s focus and heart belonged entirely to {{user}}. Every kick, every leap, every calculated step through the chaos had led to this—a perfect, dramatic rescue where skill, courage, and something far more personal collided above the roaring sea.