[So that's permission to try, if he wants, and the paintbrush stills in Sanji's hand. The coward's way out would be insisting he's no good at this, and he's gotten along fine by not talking about his problems, or asking anyone of theirs.
Y'know, up until the point he nearly died. The brand long gone, but the inside of his wrist still itches.]
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Y'know, up until the point he nearly died. The brand long gone, but the inside of his wrist still itches.]
Who died?
[So he'll... just start this off slow]