Sanji dusted ash from his shoulders as he woke, confused by the hum of busy chatter around him. As his senses adjusted, he froze. The iconic red walls of the Baratie surrounded him, bustling with cooks darting across the kitchen, barking orders for upcoming dishes.
He instinctively moved to light a cigarette, only to freeze mid-motion when Zeff walked past him, barking, "Quit daydreaming, eggplant! You're on soup duty tonight, and it better not taste like dog food this time!"
Sanji stared blankly. "Zeff?" His voice cracked, disbelief painting his expression.
The old man glanced back briefly, Sanji hadn't seen in years. "You deaf or just dumber than usual?" Zeff growled. "Get moving!"
Sanji didn't answer, his mind struggling to process the impossibility. His last memory was on the Thousand Sunny with his nakama—and now? Now he was here, in a moment that felt ripped from the past. He could hear his own heart pounding as questions surged like a flood.
Suddenly, something whizzed past his face, narrowly missing him. A ladle slammed against the wall with a loud clang before bouncing onto the floor.
"Oi, blondie!" Zeff barked, pointing at him. "Don't stand there gawking like a lovesick fool. The customers won't wait for your philosophical meltdown, you good-for-nothing idiot!"
Sanji blinked, startled out of his stupor, and his jaw tightened. "Right," he muttered, regaining a hint of composure.
His hands shook slightly as he moved toward a soup pot, gripping the ladle like a lifeline. He dipped it into the steaming broth, tasting the brew with practiced precision, though his mind was still racing.
"This has to be before Don Krieg attacked," he thought, trying to ground himself in logic. He flexed his foot unconsciously, and as he did, the flames of his Diable Jambe flickered beneath his sole. The heat startled him. He hadn't even tried to ignite it—just a reflex.
"Ow!" Sanji yelped, his foot sizzling from the sudden fire that had appeared beneath it. He jumped back, his face contorting with pain, while other cooks turned to look at him in confusion.
"Oi, what happened?" one of them asked, brow furrowing.
Sanji quickly shook off the discomfort, glancing at his foot. The small burn was nothing serious, but the real shock was something else. His foot had ignited… but it felt different, weaker. It wasn't like before when the flames would surge at his command, stronger than any normal man. No, this time, it barely flickered.
Wait a second... Sanji's eyes widened. I should be able to control this better. Why didn't it ignite properly?
He hadn't realized it at first, but now it was clear. His body, once enhanced by the Vinsmoke bloodline, hadn't fully awakened those changes here. He could still feel the power of Diable Jambe, but when he tried to ignite it, a sharp pain shot through his foot. It was as if the fire had returned, but it came with a cost. His genes hadn't fully triggered, leaving him with a weaker, unstable form. He wasn't the same Sanji who could control it without consequence.
A wave of confusion hit him, but he quickly masked it with a deep breath. This was a situation he could deal with later. For now, he had to focus on what he could control.
With a grunt, Sanji tried to shake off the worry gnawing at him. He focused again on the soup, trying to ignore the strange sensations in his body. "Alright," he murmured under his breath. "Fine." He gripped the ladle tightly, determined to get back to work. "I'll figure this out. If I'm stuck here, there's no way in hell anything is happening to this place again."