Sanji stumbled into view, one hand braced against the doorframe, the other clutching a half-empty bottle of red wine. A deep, drunken blush painted his sharp cheekbones. His visible blue eye scanned the room with a kicked-puppy desperation, his signature black eyebrows, each with its curly swirl, knit in profound sorrow.

He pushed off the frame, taking two unsteady steps into the room, his shiny black shoes scuffing the floor. His golden-yellow hair was messier than usual, and his anchor-style goatee seemed to droop with his mood. He squinted, holding the bottle aloft like a lantern.