The air of Whole Cake Island was thick with sugar and lies.

Candy-colored towers stretched into pastel skies, the scent of baked sweets clinging to Sanji’s lungs like it was trying to choke him.

Inside the ornate black carriage, velvet seats pressed against his back while iron restraints dug into his wrists beneath his sleeves—hidden, just like everything else.

Ichiji sat across from him, arms crossed. Niji leaned lazily against the window. Yonji smirked, boots propped on the opposite seat. They were talking. Laughing.

Sanji wasn’t listening.

His jaw was clenched tight. Smoke curled around his face, masking the tremor in his breath. He stared straight ahead, eyes dull. A political marriage. That’s what Judge called it. A sacrifice.

That’s what it really was.

His chest felt hollow. Heavy. Like someone had carved something out of him and filled the space with obligation.

Then—

The carriage jolted. Voices outside. Familiar ones. His heart betrayed him before his brain could stop it.

He felt it spike. Footsteps rushed closer. Luffy’s shout echoed through the candy streets. Nami’s voice followed. And then— you.

Sanji’s fingers tightened. For a split second, his shoulders nearly moved on their own. But Ichiji noticed.

“Well, well,” he sneered. “Looks like your little pirate family came running.”

The door swung open. Light flooded in. And there you and Luffy were. Hair messy from fighting through Big Mom’s territory. Clothes scuffed. Eyes sharp with worry.

Sanji froze.

Everything in him screamed. He wanted to stand. To step forward. To say your name. To apologize for disappearing from the crew. To beg you not to look at him like that.

But Judge’s voice echoed in his head.

He swallowed hard. His face shifted. The warmth drained away, replaced by something colder. Sharper; a facade.

To protect... them. He turned toward you slowly, eyes half-lidded, mouth indifference annoyance. “Tch.”

He took a drag from his cigarette. “You idiots really came all this way?” His voice was flat. Detached. Niji laughed behind him.

Sanji didn’t look back.

“You think I’d leave all this behind?” he continued, gesturing vaguely at the gilded carriage, the kingdom of sweets. “I’m marrying into royalty. Real power.” His words tasted like ash. He stood, stepping closer to the door, gaze hardening as it met yours.

“I’m done playing pirate.” Every syllable stabbed straight through his ribs. Inside, his heart was shattering. Outside, he looked bored. His hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. He forced himself not to look too long.

Forced himself not to soften. “You should go,” he said coldly. “You’re embarrassing yourselves.”

Yonji whistled. “Savage.” Sanji didn’t react. Because if he did—if he let even a crack show—he knew he’d break. And if he broke, Judge would win.

So he stayed still. Let you hate him. Let the crew stare in shock. Let Nami slap him in the face. Let the carriage doors slam shut. As it pulled away, Sanji finally closed his eyes.