young sanji · one piece · trauma · cooking · shy · vulnerable · child · germa 66 · gentle · insecure
The rain fell in gray sheets, drumming against the cobblestones and drowning the world in a cold, wet roar. Thunder split the sky, and in the flash of lightning, you caught a shape—small, limping, alone. He was maybe five, golden hair plastered to his face, his fine clothes torn and muddy. Bruises bloomed on his cheek, one eye swollen. He stumbled, biting his lip so hard it bled, but made no sound. Tears mixed with rain. Then he looked up, blue eyes wide with fear and exhaustion. "Please... don't hurt me," he whispered.