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chibinasuu · 2 months ago

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The Lady at Baratie | バラティエのお嬢さん

From One Piece Novel: Straw Hat Stories by Ōsaki Tomohito

❗IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER❗

This is not my story. I just translated the original story written by Ōsaki Tomohito (大崎知仁) from Japanese into English. This is Sanji’s storyline that was included in One Piece Novel: Straw Hat Stories, but didn’t make it into the One Piece Fan Letter episode. It was first published in One Piece Magazine vol. 2, which is where I got the original text from for this translation.

This is just a fan translation. I am not a native Japanese speaker (or a native English speaker, for that matter) nor am I a professional translator. My credential is as far as a JLPT N2 certificate, so please forgive any inaccuracies or awkwardness in the translation.

I’d be thrilled if you share this by reblogging within tumblr, but I'd appreciate it if you don’t copy and repost, or share this translation outside of this website.

Now, on to the story. Enjoy!

──── I ────

An apéritif of sparkling wine to stimulate the appetite, then an appetizer of dry-cured ham and fruits. Delicious, as expected. The second course was a seafood tomato soup, with just the perfect touch of acidity.

If you shift your gaze out the window, a view of the cloudless sky and the calm sea spread out before you, which, coupled with the distant call of the seagulls, soothes the heart that had been worn down by life on solid land.

Good food, good location. Yes, it had been a long time since I visited the Baratie, but it really was incomparable!

However, there was one little thing holding me back from freely enjoying myself today.

That one little thing, was sitting right before me.

“Hmm, yes, this place is quite alright, isn’t it? The way I see it, the alcohol and ingredients they use here are not half bad either. But, you see, there’s this other restaurant I know which I would rather recommend to you. Well, it is fairly more high-end than this place, yes, but I happen to know the owner. So, if you would like to visit, I can make a reservation straight away...”

“Oh yes, I see… Is that right?” I threw in some offhand responses at appropriate times as he rambled on. Behind the cover of a napkin, I let out a deep sigh.

This man, who had only been excessively talking about himself, was my companion for today’s meal (to emphasize, this was not a date, just a meeting over a meal). I wasn’t even sure anymore how I first met him – I think he probably approached me at a party, or something like that. Ever since then, he had been endlessly persistent in asking me out for a meal, even after I refused him every single time. I admit it was my mistake that I finally gave up and said okay this time.

Since I wasn’t looking forward to the meal in the first place anyway, I thought at the very least I should be allowed to choose the restaurant myself. So, I made a reservation at the floating restaurant “Baratie”, which I had recently been visiting less and less due to my busy schedule. Today happened to be the day of that reservation.

The man had his hair slicked back with a heavy coat of styling gel. A gold handkerchief was tucked in the front pocket of his bright, crimson suit. How do I say it, everything about this guy was just gaudy. Loud. And although he had been running his mouth off the whole time, all he talked about was,

“There’s this singer that I know—“

“There’s this building that I own—“

“There’s this dog I got that costs six hundred thousand berries a head—“

Me, me, me. It was a never-ending onslaught of boastful speeches about himself. I wished I could put him on mute just by pressing those flashy cufflinks of his.

My rare chance to dine at the Baratie – my long-overdue meal at the Baratie had lost half its charms with Mr. Fancy-haired Narcissist over here as my dining companion.

Right now, a monologue about “this movie starring my bro’s wife’s sister” was taking place in front of me. I put on my imaginary earplugs and shut out the noise, deciding to focus on my meal instead.

It was then that I realized. The Baratie was unusually quiet today – well, aside from this self-absorbed prick sitting before me. After taking a quick, casual look around the restaurant, I figured out the reason why.

Just as I thought. He wasn’t here.

That waiter, always in his black suit with a cigarette hanging between his lips… No, not a waiter. I believe he called himself the sous chef.

Sanji was nowhere to be seen today.

Beyond his cooking skills, he was infamous at the Baratie for being a notorious skirt-chaser who was always indiscriminately hitting on all the female customers. As for myself, it wasn’t just once or twice that I was on the receiving end of Sanji’s flirting.

And just so you know, it wasn’t just three or four times either.

“Oh, what a beautiful lady! It’s your first time here, isn’t it? Hm, did you come alone today? That won’t do. Shall I accompany you for a glass of wine after your meal?”

“This sherbet – you better eat it quick before it melts from the heat of my passion for you.”

“Oh, you’re a fashion designer? Then, maybe I should ask you to design a suit for me! Could you take my measurements now? Should I take my clothes off? Should I strip down?”

He was pompous, and foolish, and perverted. But, somehow, he was also the kind of man that was just impossible to hate.

On top of that, this Sanji was also famous for the strength of his legs.

All kinds of customers dine at the Baratie, not excluding rude and bad-mannered ones. If a customer’s ill behavior went too far, Sanji would deliver a powerful kick to their table, or even to the patrons themselves. I had only seen it once. A huge drunk man, who was loudly making a scene and even reaching out to steal food from a neighboring table, fell victim to Sanji’s leather shoes and ended up sprawled on the floor, “If you could please kindly shut the fuck up, Sir.”

Well, if he wasn’t here, then he wasn’t here. But for me, who he always flirted with every time I came here, a Baratie without Sanji just felt like it was lacking something.

“...and that’s how it is! Funny, right?”

Mr. Fancy-haired Narcissist was leering at me with a smug look on his face, and I instinctively leaned back. Danger, danger. It took everything in me not to jab my fork into his forehead.

His story seemed to have reached its punchline, and he was waiting for my reaction.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear a shit of what you just said,” was what I would’ve liked to tell him.

But in reality, all I could say to him was, “Right. So funny. Hahaha…”

──── II ────

“Some customers really have no manners,” Mr. Fancy-haired Narcissist grumbled upon returning from the restroom.

“There was a customer smoking at the table over there. I think smoking while eating ruins the taste of the food, and to boot, it’s just a nuisance to the other customers. If you ask me, people who smoke are the biggest of idiots. You think so too, don’t you?”

“Yes, well…”

“That’s a reasonable opinion, but if you ask me, that nasty cologne you’re wearing smells just as bad as the smoke! It’s so bad that I want to dunk you with seawater right now just to get rid of it!”

But of course, I could only say that in my mind.

We had just finished the main dish of our full course meal (Sautéed Elephant Bluefin Tuna in Olive Oil – so rich and delicious), and now, dessert had just been served. All that was left was for us to enjoy the lingering sensation of a good meal over a coffee or a digestif… or at least we were supposed to. But with this Fancy-haired Narcissist sitting before me, my patience was quickly running out.

This won’t do. I need a change of scene.

“Oh, going to the restroom? Take your time.”

As I placed my napkin on the chair and stood up, the self-absorbed prick gave me a wink. I gave him a reluctant smile in return (while inside, I stuck my tongue out at him), and left my seat.

Instead of going to the restroom, I went out to the deck instead, thinking I might try to find Sanji there. But, as expected, he was nowhere to be found either.

As I leaned against the railing and listened to the whistle of a distant merchant ship, I wished I could just stay out here for the rest of the day, feeling the wind on my skin. The gentle sea breeze carried my sigh away. Out of the blue, a shadow appeared on my left, accompanied by a telltale clunk.

A ridiculously long chef’s hat, a braided beard. The clunk I heard was the sound of a prosthetic leg hitting the deck. Zeff, the owner and head chef of the Baratie, was standing next to me. We had exchanged casual greetings a few times before. Zeff had his arms crossed and was staring off into the distance with a sour look on his face.

“Are you on your break?”

I didn’t know why I spontaneously called out to him — maybe I was just longing for a conversation that wasn’t shallow and superficial like the ones I’d been having all day.

Zeff answered while still gazing at the ocean, “No, I just needed to check something.”

“Check something?”

“Yes. I have to feel the wind – whether it is dry or humid, warm or cold – to determine the way we should prepare the food today.”

“You can’t make good food just by staying locked up in the galley,” Zeff said with a small laugh. “You on a date, young miss? Seems like you came here with a man.”

“Uh, well, you know,” I stammered. I wanted to explain that it wasn’t a date, just a meeting over a meal, but the words couldn’t quite come out. As more seconds ticked by, even if I gave any additional explanation, it would have just come across as unconvincing. So I didn’t, and asked him a question instead.

“Is Sanji-san taking a day off today?”

“Sanji?”

Zeff glanced at me, “Well if it’s him you’re looking for, I’m afraid he ain’t here. He’s out – to find the All Blue.”

“All Blue?”

When I blinked in confusion, Zeff faintly smiled and explained, “Young miss, you don’t read the papers much, do you? That brat Sanji, he’s a pirate now. He’s in Straw Hat Luffy’s crew – that kid who wants to become the King of the Pirates. Ever heard of him?”

The Straw Hat Pirates. The name seemed familiar, but I didn’t know much about them. I was honestly surprised. Who would’ve thought that playboy would end up becoming a pirate?

“So, Sanji-san won’t be coming here for a while then?”

“Yeah, I guess he won’t. Not until the Straw Hats’ adventures reach its end, at least.”

“Oh, I see…”

Even I was taken aback at how low-spirited my reply sounded. Flustered, I tried to regain a lighthearted tone, “Everyone must miss him now that he’s gone, no? Sanji-san was a very lively person, wasn’t he?”

“Miss him? Don’t be stupid.”

Zeff laughed. “It’s actually a relief that the foolish eggplant is gone. He was just a walking, overdressed nuisance after all.”

His description made me burst into laughter. I certainly got the feeling that wherever Sanji went, trouble would follow.

“And yet,” Zeff said as he stepped away from the railing, “That brat is still causing trouble for us even after he’s gone.”

“Even after he’s gone?” I asked, but Zeff was already heading toward the door leading to the inside of the restaurant without saying another word.

──── III ────

When I finally returned to my seat, I was met with a surprise.

“Um… what is this?”

“My feelings. Accept it, won’t ya?”

On top of the table, his feelings – a ring adorned with a large jewel – sat in its case, glaring at me.

“Ah, there’s no particular deep meaning behind it or anything! I just want to commemorate this first day with you, since I’m looking forward to spending more wonderful times with you from now on.”

Then, he winked.

No. No, no, no. I pressed my hand to my forehead and hung my head.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you so happy that you cried? Oooh, I’m in trouble!”

No, that wasn’t it! I could only shake my head.

On the first date (or rather, first meal together), he suddenly gifted me a ring. Moreover, the ring was so bulky it could probably be used as a weapon. Oh, hell no. I can’t take this anymore – this ring, and this man too.

A memory suddenly popped up into my tired, dejected mind – of a different “jewel” that Sanji had given me some time ago.

Once when I came here for lunch, due to a slip-up, the wine I ordered that was listed as available on the menu turned out to be out of stock. At that time, Sanji offered me a complimentary Fruit Macedonia as a token of apology.

“I hope you’ll accept this. Although this can’t possibly compare with your radiance and vibrance–”

His flattery aside, the Macedonia he brought over to me – garnished with a waft of smoke from his cigarette – was of the highest luxury. From the glassware and the way it was presented, to the vibrant colors of the fruits – it was like looking at a box of jewels.

I couldn’t help but compare the “jewel” that had captivated me at that time, and the jewel that was currently glittering on the table before me. The prices of those two jewels must have been in very different leagues, but so were the impressions they left on my heart.

“You’re gonna accept this, right?”

He gave me a look that clearly expected me to, as he waited for my answer.

I took a deep breath as I prepared to firmly set things straight with him, “Well, I–” but my voice was drowned out by a sudden loud bang of a door being kicked open.

The group that stormed into the restaurant was instantly recognizable as pirates at first glance. Their sunburned faces were crooked with vicious looks, and every one of them was carrying weapons. The customers seated by the door screamed and scattered at the sudden intrusion, which had the cooks rushing out of the kitchen.

“What is it? What’s happening?”

“Is it a raid?”

Leading the charge was a cook with a twisted headband around his shaved head and another cook with sunglasses on.

Patty and Carne. I only knew their names because I’d seen Sanji argue with those two countless times before.

“Ughh… Haaa…”

I was wondering what made that trembling sound when I realized that it was the self-absorbed prick beside me. The poor guy’s face was drained of color, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly like a fish out of water, and he’d fallen halfway off his chair.

Oh, but it sure was strange. I was quite certain he told me some kind of heroic tale earlier about how “I did boxing when I was a kid, and I once KO’d three, no, I think it was seven, pirates at once.”

There were roughly a dozen pirates in the group, and a man with a mohawk, who seemed to be the captain, kicked over a nearby table and yelled, “Cooks! Bring me all the food and booze you have! Now!”

Then, with a grin, he continued, “Don’t try to put up a pointless resistance. I already knew, see? That crazy strong bastard Sanji isn’t here anymore, right?”

“If he ain’t here then so what, you son of a bitch!”

“That lousy cook had no fighting skills to begin with!”

Patty and Carne yelled in return, brandishing their giant pitchforks.

The sea of cooks parted at the clunking of Zeff’s prosthetic leg. He stepped forward slowly, snorting at the sight of the pirates, “Hmph. Some thugs again? How bothersome. Did you think you could easily take on Baratie now that Sanji’s not here?”

“Oh look, it’s Red-Leg Zeff. What can a senile, old ex-pirate do, huh?”

Mohawk Man’s remark was bold, but for just a moment, a hint of fear was apparent in his voice and expression. No one could deny that the Owner’s presence sure was intimidating.

At that moment, I also realized the meaning of his puzzling words from earlier, how he said that Sanji still brought trouble even after he was gone.

Long story short, it seemed like these types of scoundrels would frequently come and attack Baratie, taking advantage of Sanji’s absence. It must be a pain to deal with these good-for-nothings, who may not even have dared come if Sanji had been here.

Zeff continued, “If you’re here as a paying customer, then I’ll bring you as much food and booze as you’d like. If not, then get lost.”

“Oh, I’ll pay… with this,” Mohawk Man said, drawing a pistol from his belt.

“I see how it is.” Zeff nodded and commanded the cooks standing by, “Please escort him out, boys.”

The Owner’s words acted as a signal, and with a battle cry, the cooks clashed with the pirates.

──── IV ────

The skirmish was over in no time at all.

I didn’t know whether it was because the pirates were weak or the cooks were strong, or maybe it was both, but within a matter of minutes, all of the pirates were taken out and thrown overboard into the ocean like rotten leftover ingredients.

Ah, by the way, Mr. I-KO’d-Seven-Pirates snatched the ring and skedaddled as soon as the battle started. I didn’t get the chance to say “See you never!” to him in the end, but oh well.

The cooks were no strangers to fighting, and they were also used to putting the restaurant back together in the aftermath. Efficiently, they worked to replace the broken tables and chairs with new ones. It’s not as if I wanted to thank them for the spectacle or anything, but I found myself also helping to put the knocked-over tables back up.

Then, I heard Zeff’s voice, “Apologies, young miss. What a pity that your nice date got ruined.”

I turned around and smiled at him, “No worries. I was planning to never see him again after today anyway. Besides, I was lucky to be able to witness Baratie’s famous ‘fighting cooks’ before my very eyes.”

Zeff chuckled, “Hmph, you’ve got a lot of guts, young lady. It must be hard to find a man that can match up to you.”

I was about to make a joke about how I doubt such a man actually exists, when a face suddenly popped into my mind – a certain chain-smoking sous chef.

That’s ridiculous, I shook my head, but the image had planted itself in my head and refused to leave.

My heart beat just a little bit faster.

Zeff continued, “Well, this is the Baratie. Stuff like this will definitely happen again in the future. Anyhow, make sure to bring a tougher fellow with you next time.”

“Hm, I wonder. I don’t think any man will be coming with me next time, though.”

Then – a little surprised at my own boldness – I added mysteriously,

“The man won’t be coming with me. After all, I’ll be meeting him here, at the restaurant.”

Zeff tilted his head in confusion, but I didn’t indulge him with any further explanation.

☆ translator notes:

I want to stress that not everything here was a literal word-for-word translation. I did take some liberties with some of the translations since Japanese is a very nuanced and complex language, of which lots of vocabulary and grammar do not have a direct English equivalent. But, of course, I tried to remain as faithful as possible to the source material.

One of the things I contemplated the most was how to translate the lady’s nickname for her “date”. The lady, in her inner monologue, always referred to the unnamed man as 「おれ様オールバック」 (ore-sama allback) or 「おれ様」 (ore-sama).

Wikipedia translates 「おれ様」 (ore-sama) to “my esteemed self”. Basically, it’s a personal pronoun that indicates extreme arrogance and self-centeredness. The man did not use this personal pronoun himself – he just used 「おれ」 (ore) throughout the story – but the lady here is mocking him for his self-centeredness. The translation I decided on for “ore-sama allback” was “Mr. Fancy-haired Narcissist” (“allback” means slicked-back hair, referring to the man’s hairstyle), while I translated “ore-sama” to “self-absorbed prick”.

They were pretty liberal translations because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to convey those phrases in English, but I hope that was an okay interpretation!

#one piece #one piece fanletter #one piece fan letter #op fan letter #straw hat stories #sanji #opla sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #chibinasuu translates

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