[ A part of Sanji is willing to acknowledge the truth— he’s not sure he could handle seeing any of their crew transformed to statues, much less their boisterous, rambunctious Captain. While he’s always suspected the honeyed promise that winning the game will let them leave to be a lie, it’s only just that: a vague thought, a worry that niggles at the back of his mind.

Seeing one of his beloved friends as nothing more than grey stone, though? That’s real, that’s tangible, and he fears that seeing it will only transform suspicion into certainty, even if it’s nothing but conjecture.

Better to nurse the memory through conversation and merriment and hope that the Peacocks' whims will swing back in their favor one day soon. ]

I, uh, doubt there’ve ever been many people like him, you know? [ Really, even back when he just viewed Luffy a poor hapless sucker that got pulled into being their choreboy, there’d been something uncanny and unique about him. To hear Shanks say that Luffy reminded him of someone else is, well, a little curious. ] What was he like— your old captain, I mean.

[ He laughs softly a heartbeat later at the way Shanks’ cheeks flush prettily, grinning at him. ]

I believe that. He’s pretty damn unique, our captain. Never realized pirates could be damn carefree until he showed up one day.