(JUMP Character REMIX) ONE PIECE Sanji: Commentary

[igiko]

This post was originally published on YouTube as an audio commentary series on Sanji from September 19 to October 22, 2024. The text below is a slightly edited transcript.

Germa & The Orbit
Hello, and welcome to my commentary of ONE PIECE Sanji. This is the sixth volume of the JUMP Character REMIX series that follows a character's journey throughout the "Sea of Survival: Super Rookies saga." In other words, that's before the time skip.

Just to preface, this is not my first reading of the canon as I am caught up to the latest chapter of the manga, so there will probably be spoilers up to—if not even beyond—the Wano Country saga. I also don't recommend this book as a foray into ONE PIECE due to its fragmented and condensed nature. With that said, let's get right into it.

This book starts story-wise with Germa, which—story time—when the JUMP Character REMIX series was first released—or rather announced—I was under the impression that we would get this, that we would have Sanji's story starting from his childhood at Germa. But once Luffy's volumes came out, I somehow convinced myself that the books would cover only the Super Rookies saga and that Sanji's volume would begin with the Orbit. So imagine my shock when the backs of Zoro and Nami's books previewed a panel of young Sanji in an iron mask, saying, "I want to be a cook!" I was shaking in my boots. I could not believe there was this massive New World spoiler in an advertisement for a Paradise book. But now that I know better, I'm glad we get to start with Germa.

So, Germa: One thing I'll always come back to is the fact that Sanji refers to himself as a believer on Punk Hazard when he's arguing with Zoro. This is an intrinsic part of him that's prevailed all throughout his life. Even as a child, despite his poor performance among his siblings, we see that he keeps trying. There's never resistance to the training he receives. In fact, when he's mock fighting with Niji, he gets in the preemptive strike. He attacks first, and he fails. No matter how much he struggles, he always gets back up and tries again, because there is this belief that, so long as he tries hard, he will become better. It's the carrot Judge dangles over him by stressing that Sanji will only earn his rightful place in the kingdom if he works a hundred times harder than his siblings.

Speaking of, I really like the scene where Sanji feeds the rat—not because of the compassion it shows, but because of his excitement in seeing it eat his food. Sanji starts off the scene seated at a distance, reading books, but the moment the rat begins eating he rushes up to it and asks if the food is delicious. He comes on so strongly that the rat looks shocked by his sudden approach. And I think it speaks for Sanji's resilience and the strength of his heart that he's able to see the world in such a bright light, that he can find reasons to smile so joyously for all the wounds, emotional and physical, he carries on the daily. Sanji as a child is very pure in his motives and thoughts, which works both for and against him.

But what Judge says here about Sanji being talentless is pretty false. By his standards, Sanji is a failure as a warrior. Objectively speaking, though, I think Niji and Sanji are probably the two most talented sons of the Vinsmoke family. By the time he's 19, Sanji is a formidable fighter despite his primary designation as the Straw Hats' cook; he's also the best swimmer on the crew before Jinbe joins, and he excels at juggling multiple variables and managing the flow of an operation at a given moment. Most of all, he's a very hard worker and his sense of smell is nothing short of extraordinary.

Of course, none of that potential matters to a scientist who wants results foremost. Sanji gets thrown into a cell in the castle's basement, and I have to say that Otani Ikue did a phenomenal job of voicing Sanji in this scene. It's utterly heart-rending, because we see how much Sanji has internalized his failures despite his best efforts. At this point in his life, he has no idea what Sora has sacrificed for him. He only knows what he's seen for himself, and it's that he's always falling short and incurring his father and his brothers' wrath because of it. In this moment, his bruised heart truly believes that his was a defect of birth—that he was born wrong, and this severely damages his self-image for years to come.

Fast forward to six months later: Does the basement cell have a bed? It's not there, even when the furniture falls on the bars during Germa's commute over the Red Line. He gets a toilet and a dresser, but not a bed? It's kind of rude. Anyway, this flashback with Sora is where we see a pattern in Sanji's behavior with how often he apologizes in Germa for things that are beyond his control. His family has drilled into his head that his misfortune is his fault, and this results in an inordinate amount of shame when he brings the spoiled meat to his mother. The food got crushed and wet on the way—he lists everything that went wrong and hides his face in his hood, making no mention of the unforgiving weather or the dog that attacked him. It's as if he's already accepted the fact that it was his fault for failing to keep the dog at bay.

So we see that Sanji is a child without confidence. Sora knows this; and when she compliments his food and asks him to keep cooking, she gives her son, who has never known success, hope. This memory of her serves as a ray of salvation in the despairing darkness of his basement prison, which completely recontextualizes what it means for Sanji to look for the All Blue. Learning about the All Blue is what kickstarts Sanji's drive to escape Germa, and that's what makes his dream so meaningful. This is a dream of freedom: To give himself the allowance to become something more than the failure by confiding in Reiju that he wants to be a cook. It's a terrifying, upsetting undertaking that chooses to abandon his attachment to his father and everything he's ever known in favor of his mother's love, and that's what makes Sora's sacrifice so powerful, because Sora's love is what ultimately frees Sanji from the shackles of his father's hatred.

But here's the thing: Sanji is a believer. 13 years later, he holds onto the hope that his biological family has improved as people. At the tender age of eight, a no small part of him still believes that Judge, after so many years of doling out abuse, must have some love for him. When this is proven false, the final dregs of Sanji's self-worth shatter, and Vinsmoke Sanji dies shortly thereafter at sea, unwanted and worthless. Sanji continues to be a believer where others are concerned, but he fails to extend that belief to himself going forward.

Trying didn't change anything. Trying didn't make him wanted. He'll later learn that it'll make him useful, but no more than that. Only after his reconciliation with Luffy on Whole Cake Island does he truly begin to recover from the deep damage Judge has inflicted with a single request. This scene devastates me every time, because it's not within Sanji's heart to hate. He only desires to love, and he's only ever punished for it. So Sanji runs, and Reiju's parting message to Sanji is the reason why I love the dynamic between Robin and Sanji. In terms of what they need individually, they're a perfect match. They heal each other in ways they'd be hard-pressed to find elsewhere, and they do it so naturally through these really subtle gestures that are so beautiful to me.

And with this, Sanji escapes Germa and boards the Orbit. I will talk more about Robin later. And convenient as this ordering is, I'm glad Sanji's childhood was revealed so late in the actual narrative of ONE PIECE. While the Straw Hats as a whole don't care to pry, Sanji voices an active interest in knowing Nami's past from Nojiko, yet avoids discussing his own. This contrast adds a layer of distance to a character who clearly likes to be close to people, and that makes the full reveal all the more shocking.

And now, two years later, Sanji debuts as a dreamer on the Orbit. Although he finds himself at odds with his realistic peers, his easygoing smile and expressive language speak for how much being with the Orbit's crew has done for him. Even the captain addresses him by name, and one of the cooks holds him by the shoulder in a gesture that can be construed as protective when Zeff's crew attacks. There's care here, and I think everyone here doesn't get as much credit as they deserve, including Sanji. It's easy to link the discriminatory behavior of today's Sanji toward men to his rotten childhood, but the reality is that he's put his past behind him, because that was what Judge wanted. It doesn't mean he's unaffected by what happened to him, but Vinsmoke Sanji died a long time ago as far as he's concerned. The resentment and fear of a dead prince have no place here. Sanji is also conscientious by nature, so he doesn't hold his previous treatment at the hands of men against other men. If anything, I would argue that the only thing Sanji brought with him aboard the Orbit was love gifted to him by his mother and his sister, which is part of the reason why he's much more emotionally open around women. His preferential treatment therefore stems not from hatred, but affection.

But while the Orbit's crew have done their part to nurture a boy as young as Sanji, he still considers his existence a lonesome one as the only dreamer aboard. The cooks are kind to him, but they also ridicule the dream that means everything to him. The All Blue may not exist, but Sanji doesn't care; he chooses to believe instead, and if it means fighting to the near death for it on his own, then so be it. It's once that dream threatens to crumble at Zeff's leg that he begins to tear up from the verge of losing everything.

And then he ends up on the rock. I feel like Sanji suffers from a monkey's paw where good things happen to him in the worst ways possible. And here's an interesting tic of Sanji's after he confronts Zeff about the disproportionate allotment of food: He's frustrated to tears and becomes speechless; he's basically quaking from how furious he is. Sanji does this a lot as an adult. Whenever he's overwhelmed, be from anger or distress, he huffs and puffs as if his body can hardly contain the intensity of his emotions, and he has to take a moment to gather his words. He can't release everything he feels, and that's why I think for similar reasons he pulls on his hair when he's at the height of distress.

At the end of the day, Sanji resolves to live by himself and leave Zeff to die out of spite. He speaks thoughtlessly in his anger, and I think that stays with him over the years in the form of his empathetic outbursts. Sanji gets a lot of flack for the terrible thing he says to Jinbe on Fishman Island, which is totally valid, but it makes sense for him to say things like that in the heat of the moment. Putting aside this instance with Zeff, which is something of an outlier, uh, he always expresses more anger on someone else's behalf. Chronologically speaking, his fight with Yonji over the turtle is the earliest example of this. His fit of temper toward Jinbe later down the road stems from his love for Nami, who suffered terribly at Arlong's hands, and to his credit he quickly lets it go when she makes her stance clear.

Anyway, the reason his grudge towards Zeff deviates from the norm is because he's now accustomed to being a loner, which makes screaming for help at a passing trip during a storm something of a double-edged blade, because he's thrust back into a position of helplessness where his pleas go unheard—just as they'd gone unnoticed in Germa. That's what makes Zeff's sacrifice so incredible, because Sanji didn't ask, and Zeff gave his leg anyway. And the revelation of this breaks Sanji, who immediately thinks of how Zeff can no longer be a pirate. His empathy runs deep, and the weight of what he's taken from Zeff in tandem with his initial resentment quickly becomes too much for him to bear. For someone to give without taking in return is unheard of for Sanji, who, even on the Orbit, had earned his place by working as a cook. In his mind, there's no reason anyone should hurt for a worthless boy. But Zeff reveals that they're both dreamers, and that's when Sanji realizes that he's no longer alone. There's a beautiful turn here where Sanji drops the "crap" from his dialogue and simply refers to Zeff as "old geezer."

The biggest tragedy of this moment, though, is that Sanji takes it all wrong. He's so overwhelmed by Zeff's kindness that he promises to become stronger—not to follow their unifying dream, but to offer up his meager life as repayment for Zeff's sacrifice, because the weak, masked boy in him cannot process anything beyond that heartfelt gesture. If you've made it this far, thank you for sharing your time with me, and I hope my nattering was at least halfway entertaining.

The Baratie
We are now in the present with Sanji's official debut in the overarching story of ONE PIECE. Interestingly enough, Sanji first appears before the reader using keigo, an honorific speech that suits his initial role as the sous chef turned waiter. Respectful as he sounds, his words remain a little rough around the edges. While we can look at this as the obligatory fulfillment of a vacancy left behind by the missing waitstaff, this approach resurfaces most notably in Wano at the Flower Capital, where Sanji, under the guise of Sangoro, happily offers his special soba to his customers. In contrast to his cool reception of Fullbody, he jovially asks Kyoshiro's men to wait in line if they want servings of their own. For all his attitude as the token delinquent of the crew, Sanji really enjoys serving. If that isn't gap moe, I don't know what is.

Sanji's interactions with Fullbody are decidedly less moe. To be fair, Sanji does his share of the provoking when he decides to flirt with Moodie, which—talk about bold. But what happens here is something I really dislike about Toei Animation's take on Sanji's character. I think the current anime has done a phenomenal job of adapting some key scenes—the emotional beats of Sanji's fight against Queen are breathtaking in their visuality—but it also muddles Sanji's behavior toward women by disregarding his demonstrated values from the manga. While Sanji has his faults, he tends to keep his hands to himself and doesn't initiate contact with women, especially before the time skip. The exceptions in which he does get close are when the mood is celebratory, which is when he'll go for a hug with Nojiko or a dance by the bonfire on Skypiea. Sanji's credo where ladies are concerned is basically to "look respectfully," (heavy emphasis on the quotations) and my guess is that this is an extension of Zeff's teachings on chivalry. Sanji's gentlemanly abstinence renders him utterly weak to Nami's advances when she plays him for a free meal by holding his face, because he's not used to a woman's touch, and this is unspoken proof of how steadfastly he lives by his values before they're brought to the forefront during the Water 7 saga. By having him grab Moodie's hand and wrap an arm around Conis's waist unprompted, Toei brushes aside Sanji's efforts to be what he considers a proper gentleman, which is a little disheartening when it concerns a character who cares so much about the role he plays.

But back to Fullbody again; I swear he's here. I wonder if Sanji's fear of bugs wasn't fully realized at this time or if he's okay with them so long as they're not alive and in his face. Either way, his respect for food trumps any fear he might have, just as he has no trouble falling for women like Black Maria. I think it goes to show that in the case of Sanji, love will always prevail. So when Fullbody disrespects the soup, Sanji drops his honorific speech and goes after him with all of his might. This is where we really see the delinquent side of Sanji, because he's pretty much ready to commit murder for Zeff's happiness. Sanji's introduction is, to say the least, explosive. Then comes along Gin, and we see another side of him that rounds out his character.

The joke is that Sanji always attracts men despite his efforts to woo women, but I think it's also important to acknowledge that he does go out of his way for them when it counts. Gin, Kin'emon, and the G-5 are some of the most overt examples of how Sanji will help those in need, regardless of gender. When he feeds Gin, he preemptively challenges the notion that he would only treat a woman based on his reactions to Nami later. This is a subtle lead-up to what he says aboard the Puffing Tom—that "cooking is love." Sanji is romantically attracted to beautiful women. He falls in love easily, but the love he expresses toward Nami, for example, is the wanting kind: koi. When it comes to food and ladies as a whole, he refers to a love that is giving and selfless in nature: ai. His wanting love desires reciprocation, but his giving love wishes to serve. Sanji doesn't discriminate when he feeds someone. Man, woman, non-binary person—he will share his food with anybody. In other words, he loves everyone by default. And that's why this moment works, because Gin is a man.

I think Rayleigh mentions during the two-year training that Luffy has an innate grasp of observation haki, so it's even more meaningful that he seeks to recruit Sanji after hearing how joyously Sanji's heart sings upon feeding Gin out on the deck. It's a plus that Sanji can cook well, but Luffy has always wanted Sanji on his crew for his heart.

But speaking of women, I noticed with this book that Sanji changes his first person pronoun to humble himself whenever he waxes poetic in a lovestruck spell. In doing so, he elevates the women in his verses, but this is also reflective of how he responds to his prospects of romance—that is, he fails to react at all. Sanji does not consider himself a catch. He indicates in Wano that having a higher bounty than Zoro might make him more appealing, but he's hopelessly dense, because his self-hatred clouds his perception in a relationship where he's more concerned about being useful to the other party. He always asks Nami and Robin if they've fallen for him, but he doesn't expect them to answer back. It's wishful thinking, because he tacitly considers himself beneath them. He doesn't expect anyone to actually love him. Even with Pudding, he only makes room to consider her feelings in their upcoming marriage by forcing himself to smile for her benefit. And the thing is that all beautiful women fall under the umbrella of his selfless love of ladies in general, so he's perfectly content to give and give without taking even if he does tear up from envy when Nami hugs Jinbe.

This drive to give until he's wrung dry segues into the crux of his conflict with Zeff, who demands that he leave the Baratie. When Sanji defends his culinary pride against Zeff, he doubles down on remaining the sous chef, but Zeff sees the title for what it is: shackles. Sanji is bound to the Baratie out of guilt. He refers to himself as a "mere brat" when talking about Zeff's sacrifice, and what he says to Pudding before his proposal deepens the significance of this statement. Sanji feels indebted to anyone who treats him with basic human decency. He never managed to build a strong foundation for his identity as a child; consequently, his self-worth has no legs on which to stand. With the mindset of worthlessness beaten into him by his birth family, he writes himself off as an inconsequential urchin who's destroyed the life someone far worthier than him.

The thing about Sanji is that all of his notable qualities are double-edged. At its most extreme, his kindness can be so selfless that is swerves into self-serving selfishness. Sanji shares his cooking with everyone, but feeding Krieg endangers the Baratie. He's grateful for everything Zeff has done for him, but he smothers himself in recompense. He will go on to bake a mean cake for Big Mom and knock her out from flavor alone, only to revitalize her in her pursuit of his crew. There are consequences to Sanji's kindness for all the hearts he wins along the way, and in the case of Zeff it is because he views himself as as a burden. When he puts so much consideration into the other party insofar that he devalues himself, he hurts those who love him. He does Zeff a disservice by grounding himself on the Baratie when he's meant to fly on the legs of his faith. Instead he's essentially been chewing on his wings for nine years, and the realization of this enrages Luffy, who rebukes Sanji for self-mutilating in answer to Zeff's sacrifice.

Sanji struggles with his self-image, so much so that he will change himself if he believes doing so will benefit others. He exists not for himself, but for his loved ones, because he is so grateful for the privilege to be in their lives. This manifests as a readiness to surrender his dreams, even his life. Sanji is often denigrated for lacking willpower when he tells Zoro to give up on his dream, but the reality is that he's not himself throughout this arc. At ten years old, Sanji was ready to kill in order to realize his dream of finding the All Blue. He didn't think about submitting; dying wasn't even an option. He had faith and willpower down in spades. But because he is so appreciative of the good in his life, he places everyone and their mothers leagues above himself. He has not given himself permission to dream in nine years—not because he's weak-willed, but because he's weighed down by the shame of what he did to Zeff, even though it was Zeff's choice. All this time, he has been over apologizing to Zeff as he had to his family in Germa.

Zoro's duel with Mihawk is often the highlight of the Baratie arc for many readers. Ironic as that is, it makes perfect sense for this moment to be a standout, because it's meant to inspire Sanji as well. Both Luffy and Zoro demonstrate the unapologetic pride of chasing a dream ridiculed by others. Sanji was once ridiculed, too. He meets two dreamers like him, and his heart begins to stir again—enough so that he tells Luffy about the All Blue after the latter's showdown with Krieg. This is why he has so much faith in Luffy and respect for Zoro, no matter how much he scolds and bickers with them.

But let's rewind a bit to the fight with the Krieg Pirates. The cooks blame Sanji for Krieg's revitalization, and Sanji understands that this is the consequence of his morality to feed anyone who's hungry. So he does what he excels at, which is to take responsibility by preparing to defend the Baratie with his life. Sanji knows how burdensome he can be, but he does everything in his power to alleviate the weight through accountability. Zeff defends Sanji's empathetic choice to save the starving masses, and we see Sanji light a cigarette.

I always forget to pay attention to this, but there are moments when Sanji doesn't actually smoke despite having a cigarette in his mouth. One instance is after Little Garden in Nami's quarters, where he forgoes smoking out of consideration for her ailing health. It's a very conscious action on his part, because he does rely on smoking to regulate himself. What began as an attempt at coming off as a grown-up—and therefore more useful to Zeff—has to become a dependency by age 19, and at 21 Nami gives him the blessing to smoke in her body on Punk Hazard. Based on that, it's probably more than just a bodily need on his part.

Sanji has a lot of grace that's often overlooked due to his temper. He's prone to starting fights and landing himself in trouble, but even that anger is a symptom of his love. Very quickly, he goes from fighting Gin to holding him after the poisonous gas attack. Sanji doesn't really hold grudges for himself. What resentment he hangs onto is often on behalf of somebody else. I mentioned his outburst at Jinbe in the previous section, but he also does his to Franky on the Puffing Tom despite his falling out with Usopp. In both cases, Sanji gets on with Jinbe and Franky almost right away after their respective victims assure him that their grievances are water under the bridge. Sanji's anger is the type that ignites when he spies a bully, and his solution is to beat the snot out of said bully.

Zeff all but likens Sanji to a spear, alluding to his symbolic position as Sun God Luffy's spear. Zeff really sees everything for what it is, and his side of things is awfully poignant, if understated. According to Oda-sensei, he's the quintessential man, so his actions speak louder for him.

For Sanji, the hands are sacred tools, because they are the mediums to channel his love into cooking. If he cannot cook, his heart cannot be expressed, and he would rather die. The Monster Trio share several meaningful parallels; between Luffy and Sanji, two such parallels lie in Shanks, Garp, and Zeff—because if the hands are the channels to one's heart, then Zeff's is a fist of love when he strikes Sanji in an attempt to drive him out of the Baratie. Zeff loves Sanji deeply, but this is where Sanji's conditioning strikes again, because all he ever sees is the damage he's wrought. First he took a leg, and now he's made Zeff forsake their principle of never using hands to do harm. It takes a moment, but Sanji soon learns through some candidness that it's time for him to move on.

Sanji reminisces about his time at the Baratie as he gears up for his departure. He ultimately assumes the dogeza stance, which is a massive gesture that speaks from the heart. He leaves in the same fashion as Luffy, where he says that he'll meet everyone again. This is the most honest he allows himself to be with the cooks, and it's actually a big deal. Sanji loves everyone, but he's not good at expressing his affection toward men. As I stated in the previous section, I don't think this is because of what his biological family did to him, but because of the Baratie's culture. The cooks there are gruff, harsh, and violent; if they weren't, the restaurant would have sunk years ago at the hands of pirates. Sanji is probably the Baratie's softest cook, but he's still one of them and speaks their language. He's far more at home expressing his adoration of women, so he often uses Nami's name as a crutch. Whole Cake Island puts this on full blast when he panics and tries to pretend that he only cares about Nami's safety after reconciling with Luffy. When examining his rough treatment of men, it's important to consider Sanji's interactions with Zeff, whom Sanji loves the most in the world alongside Sora.

And with this, the Baratie arc comes to an end. Incidentally, I think the simplistic, clean linework of the early days really suits Sanji. When he debuts, he's very rigid in the way he presents himself. His hair is styled just so, and there's a curated a look about him. As time passes, he begins to loosen up more, both in attitude and appearance, and it's kind of nice to see him grow into himself after he's had to deny what he's wanted for so long.

Arabasta
Today, we're going to the first mega saga of ONE PIECE: Arabasta. But before we get into that, I want to talk about Arlong Park, which is briefly covered in an episode log in this book.

"Love is a hurricane" debuts in this arc and the saying suits Sanji to a tee. I often liken Sanji's adoration of beautiful woman to a cat lover's reaction to cats: No matter how much a cat yowls or hisses or scratches the heck out of you, you love that furball to death. And if that cat decides to rub against your leg with the hint of a purr—oh, it's over! Sanji has this case of cute aggression where he directs that aggression inward, and it manifests as a desire for domination, because I'm pretty sure he fantasizes about getting stepped on by Violet. Sanji is a man of simple needs.

With that said, I think Sanji's actions in regard to Nami at Cocoyashi Village establish an important precedent for the future. As I always say, Sanji is a believer; therefore, he gives Nami the benefit of the doubt right away once the question of her hand in Usopp's death is raised. He chooses to believe in the best of others, not just women. Sanji has his share of delusions when it comes to his fantasies of a fairy tale romance, but he's being fair here, because he later asks Zoro if Nami really might have killed Usopp. In that moment, Sanji wrestles with the grim possibility of her guilt. While he wants to think well of Nami, he doesn't blindly side with her. How well he can enforce the consequences is a different story, but Sanji is perfectly capable of holding women accountable for their wrongs—provided the wrongs are done to somebody else and not him.

Another thing I like to point out from this arc is how Sanji's actions betray his words when it comes to men. He taunts Zoro for going after Nami, but he turns around in concern when Zoro collapses due to the strain of his wound from Mihawk. Sanji is a lover, so he's also a worrier. He's constantly getting distracted in battle out of worry. This is why Kurobi lands the hit that sends him flying, and this very same thing happens again on Cacao Island. Sanji stops paying attention when Pekoms is mobbed by the Charlotte family, and he gets knocked down for it. (By the way, I absolutely love this moment, because Sanji goes from carrying Luffy against his side to cradling him in order to cushion him against the crash with his body. Chef's kiss. Sanji loves men.)

Onward to Little Garden: Sanji is every bit a Straw Hat. He goes into a stranger's wax cottage in the middle of the woods and helps himself to tea. Who does that? Goldilocks, that's who.

So Sanji really likes tea. But this is where his managerial expertise as a sous chef starts to come into play, because Sanji is a quick thinker with an eye for the big picture. He helped Zeff manage the Baratie for nine years, and he's pretty creative in his own right. Problem solving is within his skill set, so he takes to the deception of leading Crocodile astray with relative ease. I think it's really wild, though, how he literally snaps Miss Friday's neck and that doesn't turn out to be fatal. Miss Friday is the strongest of them; all change my mind.

It doesn't get covered in the book, but there's a minor moment later on where Sanji offers a suit jacket to Nami. Little gestures like these are very meaningful. As much as Sanji loves to see skin, he tries to be a gentleman foremost, so he always gives up his own layers for Nami between here and Punk Hazard. I mention Punk Hazard a lot in these, huh.

Like Arlong Park, Drum Island gets the episode log treatment, but let's take a moment to revisit it. We see more of Sanji's consideration in this arc when he repeatedly reminds Luffy not to jostle Nami before tanking the avalanche. Sanji ascribes as much value to his life as the benefit he can give someone by sacrificing it. We also get a glimpse into how sheltered Sanji is where women are concerned, because he genuinely believes the snow hydrates their skin. He's ridiculous! But it's nice in the sense that it gives Sanji's character a youthful energy to offset his more adult habits. Part of his charm lies in the whiplash of his extremes, like how he goes from kicking a lapin to weathering the cold for birds. His eyes are always taking in everyone around him, so it makes sense that he would be the one to notice the nest.

Sanji's interactions with Kureha are also highly significant, because we get a look at how Sanji treats women without romantic feelings. He's pretty gruff with her, but still protects her from Wapol's men at the castle; in other words, the chivalry he inherited from Zeff moves him to shield Kureha as he would any woman, but his swooning in general is all him. Zeff didn't teach him to overly dote on women. In fact, Zeff scolds him for it in flashbacks, because his performance as a sous chef would drop in the presence of a beautiful woman. Sanji dotes on ladies, because he wants to—that's his love on full throttle. It's not something he was taught to do, but simply what he is.

Now we reach Rainbase, where Sanji re-enters the scene as Mr. Prince. I take this to mean Prince Charming and not his royal background, because Sanji has distanced himself from Germa and he's more interested in playing the knight in shining armor for Vivi and Nami. I think those are his reading glasses, as the next time he uses them is when he's calculating the kitchen budget on an abacus, and I love the look.

As for his daring rescue within Rain Dinners, this is where we see a stark difference in how he treats men versus women. If Smoker were a woman, he would have rescued her without a thought like how he helped Vivi, then Miss Wednesday, at Reverse Mountain. He's more calculating and wary of the consequences outside of his partiality.

There's a significant moment after the crew's escape from Rain Dinners where Sanji blasts through the tension atop Pincers by calling out Zoro. Everyone here is stressed, even Sanji. But Zoro is letting his anxiety show, which is agitating the others, so Sanji goes after him by accusing him of being scared that Luffy will lose. There's a roundabout suggestion here that Sanji has the utmost faith in Luffy, because the entire point of the Baratie arc was grit. How he goes about arguing his point isn't the most civil, but Sanji does get the sentiment across before Nami shuts them down as she usually does.

Speaking of Nami, Vivi is a little skeptical of the disguises Sanji buys on their behalf back at Nanohana, but Nami loves what he's brought. There's a lot of youthful compatibility between Nami and Sanji where their tastes match and even their personalities compliment one another. Nami is sympathetic by nature, whereas Sanji is empathetic. She doesn't always understand where a person's coming from, but she'll still go out of her way to help those in need and beseech the crew for their assistance. Sanji, on the other hand, is generally understanding, but tries to dispense aid alone and will hold himself back if doing so will burden the crew. He doesn't speak up when he needs something, but that's okay, because Nami gives it to him before he's even in the position to ask. She's the one who gives Sanji the blessing to smoke in her body on Punk Hazard. She knows, even without his asking or making mention of it, that he needs this. And Sanji loves this part of Nami the most—the compassion that forgives her enemies and helps the needy, because, whenever she does these things, he redeclares his love for her. Sanji says later to Bentham that people are their hearts, and he loves Nami both for her outer and inner beauty.

Honestly, I really enjoy the humor in Sanji's duel with Mr. 2 Bon Clay. Slapping the heart eye? Genius. I'll go into more detail about his reluctance to strike the female form once I get to Water 7, so let's look instead at Sanji's ability. Sanji's gifts in combat lie in speed and later durability. He's not only quick on his feet, but also on the uptake. I recall there was a comment in the ONE PIECE Magazine about how Sanji is lethal when he kicks, because preparing his own ingredients means he's intimately familiar with the placement of organs in the body. Oda-sensei puts a lot of care into Sanji's combos, and it makes his fights fun to read. I also enjoy how the last exchange of kicks between them is almost reminiscent of a dance battle.

Sanji's delinquency strikes twice in this arc by finishing off his already defeated opponent, but another detail of importance is how he retrieves Usopp's goggles in the process. Not only that, Sanji abandoned his post earlier to ride to Usopp's aid; he was supposed to fight Mr. Four and Miss Merry Christmas with Chopper. And this is what I love about Sanji's relationship with Usopp: Usopp is everyone's friend, but Sanji has moments like these where he reveals how closely he pays attention to Usopp. Although he beats Usopp's face on Bentham's body in, he still cares about and goes to certain lengths for him.

The Arabasta saga ends here in the book, but there are key snippets in the episode log where Sanji's intelligence in politics and humility before food arise. He's not nearly as informed as Nami or Robin on matters of the world, though he does have a broad knowledge of many things, if his quick thinking about the hidden cannon's trajectory is any indication; however, he knows what can and will make a splash.

He takes the lead on behalf of the exhausted crew to get Luffy back from Cobra and decline returning with Vivi. This and that happen, though, and they're taken into the royal palace. As an aside, I love how ridiculously he sleeps that he would tumble off the bed backwards. During the banquet once everyone is awake, Sanji asks a server about the dish he's eating. Sanji is humble before food: He always claims that he's a first-rate or world-class chef, but he never lords this over anyone. He also doesn't feel a strong need to take credit for what he's made; all he desires is to see a smile on his customer's face. The culinary world is vast, so he feels no shame asking for recipes as he does with Hatchan and Ivankov. He also looks after Chopper during the banquet to ensure the latter doesn't choke, and I think that's such a sweet touch.

Long Ring Long Land
We begin with a eulogy for the Sky Island saga, the red-headed stepchild of ONE PIECE that's been relegated to the episode log treatment. I honestly thought we would at least get a few chapters from Skypiea, because Sanji has excellent character-building moments there. But no, we're diving straight into Long Ring Long Land, except not if I can help it! So we're starting with Jaya.

Jaya is where we first learn that Sanji hails from the North Blue. For years, this was little more than a fun fact due to how swiftly Sanji changes the subject once he reveals his birthplace. He does this in the Super Rookies saga, where he volunteers an interesting factoid before moving on as if he hasn't just left the reader wanting to know more. Even his mention of hearing about a ship that can climb the Red Line before the crew entered the Grand Line is pretty suspect. As I've said before, though, this adds an air of mystery to a character who's otherwise very open with his heart, and that's what makes the payoff in Zou so worth it.

Jaya is where we also learn that Sanji has a fear of creepy-crawlies. I love this for him. Giant sea monsters don't scare him, but a single spider will send him running for the hills. Interestingly enough, Sanji doesn't have any reaction to Black Maria and Saturn in the New World, and he has no trouble fighting oversized insects in Strong World, which was scripted by Oda-sensei, so I wonder if he isn't bothered when they're big or hybrids. Who can say? I will say, however, that I love the idea of Usopp looking after Sanji when it comes to stuff like this.

As for Skypiea, there are a couple of standouts for me where one is the obligatory rescue of Nami on the Maxim. This is the character-defining moment for Sanji in Paradise. He goes all-out for a lady; he protects a man while he's at it; and he mouths off after throwing himself in the line of deadly fire. While we've seen his softness in increments before, this moment here is hard proof that we shouldn't believe everything Sanji says when it's directed at men. He never means it when he says he doesn't care. He more or less said this to Patty back at the Baratie; he says it again here to Usopp, and he's being dishonest in both cases. This is just how Sanji talks to men, because that was how he and Zeff interacted.

The other standout is a brief conversation Sanji has with Conis at Pagaya's home. Conis compliments the aesthetic of his bento box, the colors of which he very meticulously arranges. Sanji isn't an artist like Usopp, but he has an artistic streak of his own. He explains that food should appeal to all the senses, which indicates to me that he has an eye for beauty. That is, he likes beauty in all things, people and food alike. While that's also physical for women, his appreciation for the loveliness of any heart is why he comforts Carrot after Pedro's death. As far as we know, Sanji wasn't physically attracted to Pedro, but he knows what the latter's heart was like.

Tangentially, Cat Viper's intervention at Wano, where he prevents Perospero from sticking an arrow through Sanji's head by striking in Pedro's name, devastates me. For a character who has historically placed next to no value on his own life, Sanji is continuously propped up by Pedro, and I don't really have a word to describe this gift other than that it's breathtaking. I love Pedro.

And now we finally make it to Long Ring Long Land! There must be something off-kilter with me, because I always favor the characters and arcs most people can't stand. I've liked Skypiea and Long Ring Long Land for as long as I can remember, partly because I love trials and contests in stories.

Speaking of, Zoro and Sanji make a terrible pair at the start of the Groggy Ring. Not only are their personalities strong, the two find themselves at a crossroads when they insist on going their own ways. Zoro finds himself unable to trust Sanji, who has a deep-seated inferiority complex that doesn't take kindly to being jerked around like he's some sort of lesser being. It's not what Zoro intends when he tries to commandeer the match, but how Sanji feels nonetheless.

At his baseline, Sanji is pretty chill around men. We see this best in how he treats Usopp, with whom he shares a casual friendship devoid of condescension. He generally doesn't go around starting fights, except he's so mouthy and easy to provoke that he gets into more than his fair share of them. In the case of Zoro and Sanji, Zoro was the one who instigated their competitive dynamic back on Little Garden by bringing Sanji's ability to hunt into question. This kickstarted their first contest, and they haven't been able to stop since. They keep going at it until their clash in the Davy Back Fight, where Sanji doubles down on winning the match on his own, because he cannot bear to be in a position that makes him appear lacking by asking for Zoro's assistance. He can't and won't submit now, not when he can prove how useful and independent he is by claiming victory in Nami's name.

Being undermined is Sanji's pet peeve. He sulked after Usopp bragged about photobombing Luffy's first bounty with nothing to show for himself, and later vents his frustrations with Jinbe about his escort duty and the overall lack of recognition from the Beasts Pirates during the raid on Onigashima. Now throw Zoro into the mix, and he becomes a baker's dozen of times worse. That's because Zoro is the only person whom Sanji registers as a rival. Zoro's dream is built on competition, so it's natural that he would be the one to set the stage for this dynamic to bloom. Zoro and Sanji are equals in nearly every respect, whether directly or by contrast, and that's why Sanji reacts so favorably to Zoro's challenges. There's relentless teasing from both sides, but nothing cruel as they play on equal footing, which is a far cry from the one-sided slaughter Sanji endured at Germa. As a result, we get an unusual display of boyish pride from Sanji, who wasn't allowed that as a child. This is basically what Zeff wanted—for Sanji to be true to himself amid his pursuit of the All Blue.

Sanji's ego has been flourishing ever since his departure from the Baratie, where he brooked insults to his character out of self-repression for Zeff's sake. He now has the freedom to express himself wholly as a Straw Hat, and he's at a point where he can say that he would rather die than live in disgrace, the same as Zoro. But that ego is fragile, so the turning point in their argument is when Zoro extends an olive branch by choosing to trust in Sanji with a request for ten seconds—and Sanji, empowered by the appeal, grants them to him. Zoro steps up, and Sanji finally follows with the comfort of knowing that he's pulling the same weight instead of becoming a burden.

Sanji's adoration of women is self-effacing. He gives so much of his heart that he leaves none of himself in his wake. There's an absence of comparison and even mutuality to an extent, which elevates his cry for Robin's help to a whole new level once he makes that terrifyingly vulnerable choice, but there's a closeness with men where he's guided to look inwardly. Luffy and Zoro in particular are something like models for Sanji, and that's what makes the Monster Trio so special, as well as why he entrusts himself to them on Whole Cake Island and Wano, respectively. Luffy is a fellow dreamer while Zoro is a rival. Then there's Usopp, who is a friend. Growing up, these are relationships Sanji never got to experience until now. When he's with the Straw Hats, he can be the actual teenaged boy he is—not the failure or a working professional. He grows into himself the longer he sails with them, and in doing so his heart soars.

While we're on that subject, let's talk about how righteous Sanji is at heart. Despite being a pirate, he angers at unfairness and can't stand the rampant cheating from the Foxy Pirates, to the point he practically foams at the mouth in frothing rage. It's very funny, if ill-advised. Whether it's anger or infatuation, Sanji feels so strongly that his judgment often becomes clouded. His heart moves his body for him, which is both a boon and a curse, and this plays into his extreme nature.

By the way, Sanji mentions that sliding on Big Pan's skin is like skating. I'm pretty sure he's referring to the ice sport, which begs the question of when he managed to learn that when he's lived his entire life at sea on various ships. But you know what? Shimada Koshiro is the perfect casting for Sanji in ONE PIECE ON ICE. He's beauty; he's grace; I can watch him every day for the rest of my life.

Then Aokiji appears, and Usopp makes the mistake of approaching the situation as a friend by disregarding the importance of a captain's order. Usopp insults Zoro and Sanji, and Sanji, who is already stressed and emotional, explodes on him. This is a difficult moment for Sanji, who despises feeling powerless. He cannot assist his captain and has been sent away as a result, and he all but loses it at Usopp over an attack that hits a little too close to home. This is an interesting reversal of what happened back in Arabasta, because it's less about faith and more the reality of what it means to follow the captain, who has sacrificed himself to keep the rest of the crew safe; as such, Zoro is the one who maintains his composure this time around.

Once they go back to fetch Luffy, Zoro's face is still taut while Sanji grins in relief upon finding him in one piece. After Chopper treats both Robin and Luffy successfully, Sanji is so overjoyed that he offers to cook whatever their doctor wants. He falls back into the role of the caregiver easily, offering to make something for Robin once she feels well enough to leave the galley on their way to Water 7. When it comes to cooking and even emotional comfort, Sanji truly is the mom friend—of the belligerent variety, of course.

Water 7
It's happening again, folks. Sanji's crowning moments in Water 7 have been scrubbed from chapter format and shoved into an episode log. You're killin' me, Smalls. But that won't stop me, because I do what I want!

Sanji's empathy comes out full blast in this arc. When he hears about the Merry's doomed condition, his thoughts immediately turn to Usopp, who loves her dearly. He rages harder than he ever has as he stops Luffy from inflicting irreparable harm. Sanji loves all of his crew, but he's also in the unique situation where he can relate deeply to Usopp in spite of his place in the Monster Trio, because he's intimately aware of what it feels like to find oneself lacking. As confident and prideful as he is, Sanji is very troubled with an extremely unsustainable way of life. Still, there's a fundamental difference between them, and it's that Sanji is not depressive by nature.

Despite his abysmal self-worth, I think Sanji is a genuinely happy person, because he's grateful for what he has. He sees the glass as half full while Usopp finds it half empty. But this is also why Sanji's self-image is initially dependent on others as he views himself in terms of his utility to his benefactors.

Sanji tries to assuage Robin's concerns, too, by mentioning the attempt on Iceberg's life. What he says about forgiving a woman's lies seems like his usual philogyny talking at first, but it also speaks for a deep affection that goes beyond ego. Rather than focusing on the hurt of being lied to, Sanji chooses to look at the woman past that fabrication.

Of course, Mr. Prince still makes a comeback when he loses himself to a blissful daydream of romance at the sea train station. And he never does things by halves, so he finds the time to pen an entire love letter to Nami before he boards the Puffing Tom. Never change, Sanji.

By the way, there's an interesting contrast between Zoro and Sanji where Zoro stays in place to observe everyone's movements while Sanji roams nonstop in search of Robin. It suits their roles that Zoro would stick with Luffy in the end while Sanji goes off in pursuit of their crewmates, current and former.

Sanji's fight on the sea train is one of my absolute favorites, and not just because he uses kitchen knives. For one, his iconic line about how the loveless preparation of a single ingredient ruins the dish ripples out all the way to the Whole Cake Island saga. This fight is not only clever and exciting, but emotional as well in the way he wallops Wanze into the next car for insulting a crewmate.

Sanji is an incredible advocate for Usopp and Robin in this saga, because he's wholly invested in their feelings and experiences. When he learns that Robin's trauma is being used against her, he, a fellow survivor, is overcome with fury while understanding of her position. For all his love of ladies, he holds a serious grudge against Kalifa for her part in humiliating Robin—which brings us to his conundrum at Enies Lobby, when he finds himself unable to hit her.

Oda-sensei has stated that Sanji is actually incapable of hurting a woman. Zeff's teachings are so deeply imprinted in Sanji—mind, body, and soul—that he literally cannot do it. His explanation to Nami for his failure is just that: an explanation. He's not trying to excuse himself, because he falls into his habit of overapologizing to the point Nami tells him to stop. While Sanji wants to help Robin from the bottom of his heart, that same heart cannot betray Zeff. It's not that he prioritizes one over the other, but that his inability to rank love leaves him as the loveless intermediary who takes all the hits, even if it might result in his death.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he's on a downward spiral by the time he crashes into Nami and Chopper's location. Nami recognizes how difficult this has been for him, and that's why she comforts him by putting forth the good she sees in his discipline. Instead of admonishing him for it, she covers his weakness, which is exactly what he needs.

Let's go to Sanji and Zeff for a moment. Zeff drilled several lessons into Sanji, who's taken each and every one to heart. Most characters, including Sanji himself, view some of them as restrictive. Sanji cannot fight with his hands or hurt a woman. While he compensates for the former with his footwork, the latter halves his combat prowess. It's a handicap on the best of days, if a chivalrous one in its consideration. It's not that Sanji views women as weaker; in fact, when he tells women that they don't need to fight, because he will protect them, he isn't knocking on their abilities. He's just saying that they don't have to fight if they don't want to. He never actually stops a woman from going into battle; he only ever defends. His beliefs regarding women have nothing to do with his refusal to do battle against them, and everything to do with his relationship with Zeff. Sanji does not want to become someone Zeff hates. His steadfast adherence to Zeff's principles is not done out of fear, however, but out of the utmost love.

When Sanji was a boy, Judge asked the impossible of him, and this severely damaged his nascent sense of self. Nothing he did was good enough. Then Zeff came along, prescribing these achievable goals and going as far as to call himself a parent, and in doing so he helped Sanji to build confidence in himself. Zeff is the reason Sanji can stand tall, and he would rather die than spit on his father's values.

So Sanji knows exactly where he falls short relative to the rest of the world. It's a point of shame for him insofar that he counts this value as a strike against himself in Wano, when he asks himself if the current version of him would be as useful to Luffy as an emotionless warrior of science. Sanji doesn't strike Black Maria, and it makes complete sense for his narrative not to do that. The Straw Hats with issues concerning self-image reclaim their unwanted labels during the raid on Onigashima: Chopper embraces his monsterhood while Robin becomes a full-fledged demon. It's a little more understated for Sanji, but he takes back what it means to be a failure by choosing to remain as himself: the cook of the Straw Hats. Because the failure is whom Luffy went back for on Whole Cake Island, and it's the failure whose heart beats with humanity. That humanity is flawed, but it's the one Luffy loves—and that love propels Sanji to live instead of forsaking his heart to science.

For Sanji to retract his previously established values would defeat the purpose of this growth, because he is learning what it means to be loved for his strengths and weaknesses—as a person, not a tool for someone else. These scenes don't seek to justify Sanji's actions, but to present the realistic portrait of a man whose best and worst are two sides of the same coin, as is often the case for people. Sanji is frequently criticized for his inflexibility, but these unflinching values are his saving grace when his identity is nearly dismantled by the stress of his shifting genetic makeup. That humanity is what makes his advice to Usopp so heartfelt.

Sanji spends most of the Water 7 saga highly attuned to Usopp's feelings. Between the Aqua Laguna and his attack on the Puffing Tom, he helps Usopp indirectly in consideration of the latter's pride. He plays by Usopp's rules, letting him play pretend as Sniper King, until he goes for the heart by telling him that he will do what Usopp cannot do while Usopp should do what he cannot do. It's exactly what Usopp needs to hear, because this is something achievable and tailored to his talents. This is how Sanji found confidence as a boy. Heck, it's how Nami eased his self-flagellation probably not even an hour ago. Usopp doesn't have to be a mysterious stranger from an island of snipers to make a difference; he can be himself and still succeed, because he has friends standing beside him.

What's interesting is that Usopp's disguise reveals one aspect of what Luffy believes a hero is. According to him, heroes wear capes; they also share their food and, if we throw Zoro into the mix, their booze. In chapter 403, Sanji is referred to as Mr. Chivalry. He wears a cape in Wano as Soba Mask, the antithesis of the evil Stealth Black, and happily feeds everyone. By these definitions, Sanji is a hero. It sounds ironic, given that he's a pirate, but is appropriate when considering his position as Zoro's foil in the crew.

In regard to his fight with Jabra, Sanji demonstrates the strength of his heart by powering up through his passion. This is how he rectifies his blunder with Kalifa, so it's fitting that he ends the battle with a statement that involves Heaven and Hell. I feel like Sanji is a pretty good example of the “I can be your angle or your devil” meme, because he's always bouncing from one extreme to the other on a given scale. At the same time, it means he's a character with the capacity to tap into two wholly different realms, and that's exactly how he shines in this saga—with his heart and his mind.

Lastly, I want to go back to Usopp's duel with Luffy. This becomes relevant down the line, because Luffy meets Sanji in a one-sided duel two years later at Whole Cake Island. It serves as a parallel to what transpired at Water 7, and shows us how much Luffy has grown as a captain, because, in my opinion, he handles the case of Sanji perfectly. The key difference between Usopp and Sanji's duels is heart. Usopp's heart was in his fight to win the Merry, whereas Sanji is in direct conflict with his own when he assaults Luffy over and over again. Luffy understands this, because he knows how uncharacteristic it is of Sanji to look down on a dream, so he's aware that the duel is not truly out of Sanji's will. Sanji overlooked the sting of Robin's lies to help her in Water 7, and Luffy pretty much does the same here.

Speaking of Robin, her missing piece at Enies Lobby was her fear that the crew would discard her. She doubted them despite Usopp's counsel, but Sanji has always had full faith in Luffy. His surprise at Luffy's appearance on Whole Cake Island is not because he didn't think rescue would come, but because he had left a note explaining his intentions of handling everything on his own. Sanji's original plan was to go back to the Straw Hats, and he has enough history of going solo for Luffy to grant him permission when he asks; staying was forced onto him.

And now we come full circle to Nami, who asked for help at the height of her despair. At his, Sanji still abstains from doing the same, and therein lies the heart of the issue: Sanji hates himself. It's not an active hatred like Usopp's can be, but relative in that he loves everyone so much there's nothing left for himself: the resident failure. Zoro and later Nami make cases for why they should just let Sanji go, and he actually agrees with them. No matter his reasons, he shouldn't be excused for disrespecting Luffy, who's got a million other things on his plate with Kaido. If Sanji wants to leave the island and go to Wano, he needs to get the bracelets taken off, which means fighting the entirety of the Big Mom Pirates. If he doesn't, his hands will get blown off; he won't be able to cook; and the last thing he wants is to become a burden to his crew.

It's important to recognize that Sanji's hands are not just the channels for his passion and love, but also how he justifies his presence by gauging his value solely based off of how useful he is to his so-called saviors. Fighting an Emperor and her crew for one intrinsically flawed cook is too much trouble, to say nothing of the hostage situation with the Baratie and later his biological family. Sanji summarizes it best when he tells Pudding that he just wants to vanish without hurting anyone. His problem is not lack of faith in Luffy, but the lack of in himself. Due to his childhood trauma, Sanji is deathly afraid of being selfish. Given the option, he will always choose to be the sacrifice and spare everyone else the trouble. That's why he strikes a deal with Big Mom to let his crewmates go, instead of dragging everyone into his battles. Even when he knows with absolute certainty that he's going to die the next day, he chooses to shoulder the burden alone. His hands may be fine, but Zeff and his biological family are in danger, and the fact still stands that he spurned Luffy.

But here's the caveat with which Luffy runs a mile and more: Back on Water 7, Zoro also told him, "If you waver now, who are we supposed to trust?" Luffy is the captain of the Straw Hats. That means it's his role to be the pillar of support for his crew. By staying stalwart for Sanji, Luffy embodies the captain Zoro wanted him to be then. For Robin, it was about what she wanted, which was the allowance to live. Wanting to live comes later for Sanji; for now, it's about the acceptance of his existence as a failure, because he to the bitter end doesn't look for help; it is given to him by Luffy, who loves him as he is. The reason his request to Robin at Wano is such a bombshell is because that's the first time he asks. Here, the assistance is offered with neither condition nor justification, and even that proves so overwhelming that he nearly cries from having his wishes said aloud by Luffy. Sanji has struggled all his life to look at his reflection and find value in it outside of the labels he wears like proud badges, but Luffy has always prized him for his heart. The cook who fed a starving man with a smile is the person he has wanted on his crew since the very beginning, and the realization of that deep acceptance is what saves Sanji, and in turn what makes Luffy a captain of the highest caliber.

Thriller Bark, Sabaody Archipelago +
Here it is: the one, the only, the ever contentious . . . Thriller Bark! I love how this arc dives straight into the fight against Absalom with a panel of Sanji as he cries out in relief with snot running down his nose upon retrieving Nami. Whenever there's snot, we can bet that he's really feeling it.

It's played up for humor here, but a runny nose is actually highly indicative of Sanji's vulnerability in two key instances—first at Whole Cake Island, then second at Onigashima. When Luffy vocalizes Sanji's wish to save his biological family and when Sanji cries for Robin's help, there's an absence of tears in both cases, yet his nose runs. It's a stark contrast from his usual outbursts in regard to Nami's safety in dangerous situations or seeing mermaids for the first time, where he's openly passionate. Vulnerability is frightening for Sanji, who habitually places himself lower than his loved ones, so he becomes tense in these moments where he considers himself to be acting selfishly. He tries to backpedal on his wish to Luffy, but asking for Robin's help is even scarier, because there's no taking back his request once it's out there. It is so scary, yet such a relief after Robin answers him that he bursts into tears—and that's why I believe here, more than anywhere else, Sanji shows up at his bravest.

Anyway, Sanji storms into the one-sided ceremony like a literal hurricane, because that's how love always is according to the East Blue. I think it's cute how Sanji and Nami crash each other's no good, very bad wedding. And it's fine that Nami isn't awake for this, because she already knows the lengths Sanji will go for her. On the other hand, Sanji's awareness that Nami comes with a small detachment to Whole Cake Island for him is entirely necessary, as this heaps a sense of greater value onto his worth.

Honestly, though, I think this is a pretty funny fight. The humor works, because it shows this for what it is: a showdown between two perverts. Regardless of how much worse one is than the other, they're both nasty. Starting from Thriller Bark, Sanji's perversion starts to ramp up and, although the gags do get out of hand at times, what he says in relation to it here is relevant to this day.

Sanji is furious that Absalom has laid eyes and hands on the lovely ladies of his crew. Hypocrisy is in the air, because Sanji did instigate the peeping all the way back in Arabasta, but that's kind of the point. Even so, there's a clear distinction between them. Absalom goes into his perversion for himself: He wants to find a pretty wife, so he'll go in and feel up a nice lass in the baths until he finds one to his liking. Sanji, on the other hand, keeps his most libidinous desires to himself, because he knows they're wrong. A man of extremes like him struggles on the best of days before the face of temptation, but there's a hard line he will never cross which Absalom leaps over with glee.

Every time his dream of invisibility surfaces, Sanji redirects himself to cover up the reason by talking about doing good and protecting people, which are still things he wants to do. It just so happens that there's a vice right there, ripe for the picking. This is where what I said about “respectfully looking” (still with heavy emphasis on the quotations) from a previous section comes into play. Sanji tries very hard to be as respectful as he can be. This is why he can claim with full confidence at Fish-Man Island that, as much as he loves mermaids and would thrill in taking off with them, he would never do so. If nothing else, he will never lay a hand on a lady. On the flip side, we see in a bathhouse at Wano that he does not always succeed when it comes to not looking—and is rightly punished and called out for it by Nami.

The narrative never justifies Sanji's urges, and he himself doesn't claim to be in the right as he kicks Absalom around. Instead it's the principle of the matter: Absalom wronged Nami and Robin, so now he gets hit.

As an aside, there is a popular theory that Sanji's dream of claiming the Clear-Clear Fruit stemmed from the wish to become invisible as a trauma response at Germa. I think there are reasonable grounds for this, because the Clear-Clear Fruit stood out enough for him to recall its existence in his teenage years. At the same time, I believe his dream of perversion is still a genuine fantasy of his, because, alas and alack, he carries it out to fruition in Wano. In other words, I subscribe to the belief that all versions of the dream are true.

In any case, wacky as Sanji's fight is, Zoro's “nothing happened” elevates this arc and has an incredible ripple effect that impacts Sanji's interpersonal dynamics within the crew. Much as Sanji talks himself down to Brook about how he looked silly, his actions have profoundly affected Brook and Robin, who have the esoteric knowledge of what went down with Kuma. It's no coincidence that these two truly see Sanji for who he is, which makes Brook's speech about Sanji's kindness when he squares off against Big Mom all the more staggering. It's everything, in the same way Robin appreciates the depths of Sanji's cry for help from Black Maria.

As for Zoro, I think the fact that he nearly sacrifices his life to protect the crew is extremely harrowing for Sanji, partly because it hearkens back to what happened with Zeff on the rock. It's been evident ever since his fight with Kurobi that Sanji will do anything to protect his loved ones. He wouldn't have minded death, because his self-image is that of “the failure and the cook”: The failure has no inherent worth while cooks are a dime a dozen, and therefore dispensable. Having someone hurt on his worthless behalf is a pain more excruciating than any other for Sanji, who fears Zoro might be dead by the time he opens his eyes again. And this becomes Zoro's moment, but Kuma also acknowledges Sanji's part by all but sending him to Ivankov once it's time to separate the Straw Hats. Considering the history Kuma shares with Ivankov, this is a very significant choice he makes for Sanji, so Sanji is eventually given credit for his kindness in this scene in all the ways that matter by those in the know.

And then we approach Sabaody Archipelago. I love how Sanji's delinquency rears its ugly head in his struggles to recall whom he's crossed over the years. He's very prone to getting into fights.

And here we see Sanji use Nami's name to cover up his anger over his crew getting dragged into his mess with Duval. Picking a fight with him is one thing, because he will fight back, but involving his found family is another story entirely. It's also funny how he takes his own advice and parts his hair differently while growing an anchor beard two years later. The fact that it's called the anchor is kind of cute.

The running joke now reinforced by Duval is that Sanji attracts only men, but he does actually start winning hearts in the New World. He at least gets Viola to blush, and then there's Pudding. I feel like Paradise is where we see who he is while the New World is where he gets his true coming-of-age when the person he is faces challenges—not just because he's lacking, per se, but because there are certain walls that must come down for Sanji to move forward. That's why it looks like he takes so many losses in rapid succession after the time skip, when in fact the narrative does give him some wins to go along with them, and together they build up to his identity crises from Whole Cake Island to Wano with the results of his growth as seen in Egghead.

Sanji's familiar worry makes itself known at Sabaody Archipelago proper when Zoro collapses during their escape from the Pacifistas. Once again, Sanji's words are unreliable toward men, because he very easily leaves Nami's side to look after his injured crewmate, especially knowing what Zoro is really shouldering. Sanji is pretty soft on Zoro from this point onward, because—I haven't mentioned it in two sections, so I have to bring it up again now—on Punk Hazard he recognizes that Zoro is being hard on himself and advocates for him as he leads the G-5 marines.

Also, I will never get over how Usopp tries to shield Sanji and the utter devastation on Sanji's face when Usopp disappears before his eyes. This is Sanji's worst nightmare come true. Usopp does such a brave thing, and he seemingly perishes in defense of a worthless failure who can't protect anyone. It's the worst way for that fight to end for him, and that's what makes the nature and order of the disappearances at Kuma's hand so effective.

Zoro goes first, and everything falls apart from there, because in a lot of ways Zoro is the rock of the crew. Sanji plunges into despair and pulls on his hair after Usopp vanishes. He loses his head to grief insofar that he blatantly ignores Luffy's pleading order to withdraw. This is heartbreaking, because Luffy's words come from a place of love—of how much value he places upon Sanji, who's lost all sense of himself in the harrowing tragedy of the moment.

Now the Rocky Horror Show is the inspiration for the okama, but I haven't actually watched it, so I am not qualified to speak at length on that! However, I will say this: Kamabakka's people are said to have hearts of maidens. I'm not going to dissect exactly what that means, because I am not Oda-sensei and can't speak for his adoption of the phrase in his work, but Sanji says in his refusal to wear the dress that he has “the heart of a man”—not that he's manlier or more of a man than them. Those are creative localizations. He's using their vernacular to explain his identity to them in no uncertain terms. He doesn't actually condemn who they are, because his argument is that he wants to love ladies, not be friends with them. It has nothing to do with the okama, and I think his exaggerated frustration with them largely stems from their trying to force him into doing things he doesn't want. Otherwise, he treats them just fine when he's dining with Ivankov, and they're important enough to have made Big Mom's hostage list.

Incidentally, I think his stint in heels here contributes to how well he runs in Nami's shoes on Punk Hazard, which is a hilarious thought. The bridal arts are truly helpful, even by proxy.

Sanji's expression upon decoding Luffy's message is quite tender. He was very worried about his captain, and for Luffy and the crew he vows to get stronger by accepting Ivankov's deal. As absurd as it sounds on the surface, I think this is a pretty big deal for Sanji to strike, because Ivankov's taunt is whether Sanji's “heart of a man” will sustain itself in a dress. For the record, men can wear and be anything they want; however, in this case, the dress has been symbolic for the okama, whose ways Sanji has already turned away, ever since his unintended arrival on the island. In other words, from a purely narrative standpoint he risks changing his heart for Luffy's sake; gags aside, that's the true enormity of what he goes through within the next two years.