𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

───── THE DOORS HADN'T SHUT COMPLETELY, so Eniya slipped through them without drawing much attention to herself. The noise of the kitchen hit her like a crashing wave, the chaos of barked orders and individuals only half paying attention to their surroundings allowing her to weave around the counters, marching after Luffy.

"You, Mr. Future-King-of-the-Pirates, are gonna be my new chore boy," the chef was growling, Luffy's feet barely on the ground as he carried him to the sink, "You're gonna pay off your debt by washing dishes."

"All of these?" Luffy asked, dismayed as he eyed the piles climbing the walls.

"For starters," the chef corrected, throwing him an apron, "You gotta remember, the meal you had with your friends? That's one years worth of dishes."

Luffy's face fell, and Eniya cleared her throat. The man jerked in surprise, turning quickly to face her, his eyes widening, and then narrowing. "Where'd you—"

She cut him off before he could start yelling. Or asking too many questions. Stepping between him and Luffy, she raised her hands pleadingly, "Could we get it down to six months if we both worked?"

It was demeaning, standing in front of so many people and playing bashful. The low voice, the begging—she just wasn't built for it. But Eniya had a feeling that this was a case where honey would be more helpful than vinegar, so she bit the inside of her cheek until it ached and summoned whatever scraps of humility she could find.

She realized she was still staring daggers at the chef only when he raised a brow, and Eniya had to force herself to glance down at his single, shiny boot instead. For a long moment she thought he'd shoot it down, shove her to the side—or even kick her out—but eventually, he nodded, and began searching for another black apron to throw at her.

"Fine. But I'd get a move on if I was yous. Second service is in one hour."

He squinted further, waggling a finger to prove his point. Eniya snagged the apron from the air with ease, nodding her understanding. She only allowed herself to breathe when the chef turned away. A firm hand clasped her shoulder, Luffy's smile growing at the sight of her.

"You came!"

"I did," she said, "I shouldn't have, because you thought it was okay to give a restaurant an 'I owe you,' but I did."

"What was I supposed to do?" Luffy whined, "We had no money!"

She gave him a stern look and pushed the sleeves of Nami's jacket up to her elbows, before looping her apron around her neck. "You could slip out the bathroom window like a normal pirate."

Luffy opened his mouth—most likely to argue about how that was stealing and stealing was wrong—but a commotion in the front of the kitchen grabbed both of their attention.

"What'cha think you're doing?" The chef snapped.

"Come on, old man!" Sanji tossed his jacket to the side, and Eniya arched a brow, "Enough's enough."