[Spurred on by Josuke's words, Sanji imagines such a person. Someone who'd think of and provide for him without his saying anything . . . A kind, sensitive soul who'd give and ask for nothing in return . . . Someone like . . .
His smile loosens a touch at the bittersweet memories as he absently goes for another forkful. There's no way he'd accept that. He lifts the fork to his mouth, deciding to concentrate on the salad again, when he notices an odd color and texture against the leafy greens.
His heart stops beating at the sight of a caterpillar wriggling faintly on its modest bed of salad. As soon as he registers what he's seeing, Sanji drops the fork—and the caterpillar with it—before letting out a shrill scream. Snapping his foot out on reflex, his leg cleaves the table in half from beneath and sends the pieces airborne as if he were kicking up mere foam, all while he scrambles back until his chair tips over. He drops to the floor on his back, knocking the wind out of him, and gets on all fours to crawl away with a sense of great urgency.]
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His smile loosens a touch at the bittersweet memories as he absently goes for another forkful. There's no way he'd accept that. He lifts the fork to his mouth, deciding to concentrate on the salad again, when he notices an odd color and texture against the leafy greens.
His heart stops beating at the sight of a caterpillar wriggling faintly on its modest bed of salad. As soon as he registers what he's seeing, Sanji drops the fork—and the caterpillar with it—before letting out a shrill scream. Snapping his foot out on reflex, his leg cleaves the table in half from beneath and sends the pieces airborne as if he were kicking up mere foam, all while he scrambles back until his chair tips over. He drops to the floor on his back, knocking the wind out of him, and gets on all fours to crawl away with a sense of great urgency.]