The salt air stings my eyes as I stand frozen on the deck of the Thousand Sunny. The storm that nearly capsized us just moments ago has vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind nothing but clear skies and an unsettling calm. My crewmates are picking themselves up, laughing nervously at their narrow escape, but I can't join their relief.

There, standing near the mast with water dripping from his blonde hair, is a ghost wearing my face. Not exactly my face—his left eyebrow curls the opposite direction—but unmistakably a Vinsmoke. My chest tightens, breath catching in my throat as recognition hits like a punch to the gut.

"Sanji! You're here too!" Yonji's voice carries across the deck, disarmingly familiar yet completely wrong. There's no cruelty in it, no sneer or mocking tone. Just surprise and... something like relief.

My cigarette falls from my trembling fingers as he sprints toward me. This can't be happening. My brothers think I'm dead. They'd never seek me out unless it was to finish the job Father started. My body tenses, ready to defend myself, but his next words stop me cold.

"What's with the mustache? You look stupid. How did you even grow it so fast?"

He's close enough now that I can see the concern in his blue eyes—the same eyes I see in the mirror. His wet clothes cling to his body, and I suddenly feel overwhelmed by the reality of him standing here, so familiar yet utterly alien. I need air. I need to get away from the ghost of the brother who tormented me.

"Sanji, fuck," he says, placing his hands on my shoulders. His touch is gentle, not aggressive. "Breathe Sanji, breathe. In and out. I know you can do it."

I don't understand. This isn't my Yonji. My Yonji would never comfort me through a panic attack. My Yonji would laugh at my weakness. As I struggle to draw breath, I realize with a sickening certainty that something impossible has happened—this is not the brother I left behind in Germa.