"Sanji Blackleg, my husband, he was one of the greatest poets who had ever lived and it was one of the many reasons why I fell in love with this man. His stories touched many hearts including mine. Some were adventurous, some were romantic, and some got into the depths of human nature. I know not of anyone who could touch so many various subjects in one lifetime. Not only was he one of the greatest authors, he had also been one of the best chefs. As a teenager, he won numerous amounts of competitions and earned respects of many world-renowned cooks. It still amazes me how that man chose me out of all the women out there."His grandmother continued her speech of his legendary grandfather who had brought the media even to his own funeral.

And when she finished, everyone enthusiastically clapped in response even though most attending this funeral had never even spoken a word to his grandfather. Even fewer knew Sanji Blackleg personally. Most were merely here to say how his books have turned their lives around and that he had somehow saved them.

It was absolutely idiotic. Sure he had never personally read any of his grandfather's novels but how could a book be life changing? It was just some plot line, possibly with some morals behind it. But no one really based their principles after these morals.

A variety of people shook his hand and apologized for his loss. He simply nodded and forged a poignant appearance until they left.

His family members were sniffling and falling apart but he was somehow able tell that those dribbling liquids down their cheeks were crocodile tears. He knew that everyone, except for perhaps his grandmother, were truthfully joyful over his grandfather's death.

Sanji Blackleg had been notorious around the world after all. His novels were constantly best sellers and his philosophies were adopted by many professors. He had produced a large amount of wealth in his lifetime, money that many desired and required, counting his family members. It was disgusting how they struggled and fought one another for someone else's hard earned cash.

Since the media was here, he had to appear sophisticated. He even spoke in front of the crowd of the memories he shared with his grandfather. Most of these memories were either extremely stretched or exaggerated since he truly couldn't recall not even a full conversation shared with Sanji Blackleg. Their relationship had been faint. If strings represented human relations with each other, theirs had been almost nonexistent. So feeble that it could break at any moment.

The rest of the funeral carried on eventfully and after many hours, the media left. People who had been merely fans of his grandfather's work disappeared. Only he and the rest of his family remained but only to be perceived as devastated people who had just experience great tragedy when clandestinely, they had not.

Other than his family and him, one other person remained. A man he had never seen before. He appeared about the same age as his grandfather before his passing away but elderly wasn't what he would've exactly depicted the man as. This man possessed green hair and wore three jingling gold earrings. Delinquency was a better word for this strange man despite his age. The green haired chap held a sad expression which surfaced very indistinctly on his defined features. That grief unexpectedly seemed authentic and genuine, contrasting everyone else's he had seen this whole day. It seemed that this mysterious fellow was legitimately grief-stricken over his grandfather's death.

He silently wondered what his associations with Sanji were.

The man vanished right after the black coffin, dark as the solemn night, which held his grandfather's form disappeared underneath the ground. It seems that no one other than himself noticed the presence or disappearance of that peculiar man.

The boy who was Sanji Blackleg's grandson rode in the backseat of his father's car silently. Weary of the day's events. He despised faking a smile and he loathed seeing others do the same. How his grandfather did this his whole entire life was a damn mystery.

And that night, Sanji's trusted lawyer entered their resident, holding information that many of his family members urgently sought after, even his parents, all except for his grandmother who had not even bothered to exit her room. The lawyer was one of Sanji's dear childhood friends named Robin. Regardless of her actual age, she seemed about twenty years younger but thirty years wiser.

"Mr. Blackleg wrote his will knowing his time was limited. He had lived his life as a wise man and his inheritance to you all has a specific meaning behind them. Therefore, please do reflect carefu-"

"Get on with it already!" His father's booming voice interrupted the raven haired woman whom gave him the coldest stare in response. The boy's stomach crumpled from a sudden indescribable terror. Seeing those terribly icy eyes brought prickly sensations to befall into the room.

Robin continued after concealing her obvious resentment for her diseased friend's family. She held a white paper in between her fingers and read the content out loud, "For my dear wife, I leave her the house we have lived in together for our whole entire marriage. For my far off relatives, I leave them one object they desire from my collections. As for my son-in-law and my daughter, I leave them my library for it holds worldwide intelligence, I wish for them to learn from the books I have left them. That is all, I expect for the money in my bank to be donated to all the starving people worldwide. I cannot bear to leave any famine to infest this society." At the end of her sentence, a tiny smirk played out at the corners of her lips, evidently pleased by Sanji's decisions.

His father furiously slammed their granite marble table with his fists and his mother endeavored to calm him down, but he discarded her to the side as he yelled stridently towards Robin. "YOU LITTLE WITCH, I KNOW THERE IS MORE. YOU'RE LYING, WHERE IS OUR ACTUAL INHERITANCE? WHERE IS OUR MONEY?"

Even though his father was screaming in her direction at the top of his lungs, the raven haired woman did not even flinch in response. She merely sighed tiredly and said, "That is all, excuse me, I have to use the bathroom before I leave." She excused herself and headed towards the hallway, and on the way, she lightly tapped on the boy's shoulders.

He raised one of his curled eyebrows, one of the many traits he received from his grandfather, as he tagged along with Robin. No one noticed of his absence since they were all occupied yelling among themselves, clearly infuriated by the fact that his infamous grandfather left them with no money.

"Boy, Sanji left you something too you know." The mature woman enlightens him with a lighter tone than she used in the living room in front of his relatives. He perks up after hearing those words. What could it be? He wonders silently. Robin pulls out a worn out leather covered paperback that seems much more like a journal, draped in shabby brown straps to maintain its enclosure. "It's his journal. He carefully picked out the most important recollections of his memories and fastened the pages together himself. He wanted you to have it. I believe there's a letter specifically for you in there too." She smiles benevolently and wanders away.

His father was severally stricter tonight, finding ways to vent his anger out. Even going far as to lay his hands on his mother whom cried in result the rest of the night. The resentment that existed in this household made him sick to his stomach.

The following morning gave him the perfect chance to stretch his feet out in the balcony, midst of striking and vibrant flowers. He had comfortably adjusted to the shape of his chair and cautiously removed the brown straps that were barely holding the book sealed. Instantly, a small folded letter fell to his feet.

Inquisitiveness grasped his mentality almost immediately. He desired to feed that huger of curiosity his brain desperately craved for.

I'm so sorry. Sorry to have burdened you with this book. In all honesty, it's your choice at the end whether to continue through these pages or whatnot. I know that you've never really caught the significance of reading nor the fascination of it. Follow your own judgment and trust your mentality, although, I do not wish for you to undergo that heavy pressure.

This book holds many momentous reminiscences that have inconveniently encumbered me after all these years. I must warn you, knowledge can alter and wisdom can amend a person's character. Once you get into the depth of my past, you will inadvertently study from my mistakes and I do hope you do so.

You must be wondering 'why me?' Yes, I was rather unsure in the beginning as well. I didn't know if you were too adolescent to apprehend or too old enough to judge blindly. It was a difficult decision but I knew it couldn't be anyone else.

My amiable wife whom I've wounded a great deal already did not require further pain and my daughter whose mind has been filtrated too much of that damn bastard of a husband of hers, I felt that I could not rely on her either.

So I entrust my past in your hands. All I ask of you is to understand but if you must reject my wish, please do so by burning this book. Eradicate the content and don't converse with others of this matter.

My boy, you must also know that the only reason I've never directly communicated with you formerly was because I've always hoped to keep you away from my persistent fame. Even though the majority of society aspires for success and recognition, it is not so grand after experiencing the disgusting sides to it. My daughter as well as your mother once had an immense passion for acting. She attempted the use of my name in a sorry effort and when I refused to lend her a hand, she eloped with that sad excuse of a man whom is currently your father.

Keep a close eye on him for I no longer have the power to do so. I apologize for the neglect and the cold shoulders after all these years. But even from afar, I was able to tell that you've grown into a fine young man.I'm so proud of you.

His thumb scratched the spot underneath his jaw line as he uneasily placed the letter forth on top of his small round coffee table. Then he placed his earl grey tea to his lips, sipping leisurely as he inhaled the refreshing scent of soft citrus. He had to admit that enjoying a cup of tea, surrounded by vivid flowers, underneath the golden sun was quite the beauty of life.

The tattered book in his hands felt heavier than before. By knowing the true worth of attaining this knowledge, he was able to feel the actual weight of his grandfather's inheritance.

According to this letter, Sanji Blackleg entrusted him with a priceless fraction of his past. It somewhat unnerved him. If this was that much of importance, why did his grandfather just hand it to him? They had scarcely even shared a word with the one other unless it was necessary.

The letter had explained that it was because Sanji had no other choice and it caused the boy to wonder why it was so essential to pass it down at all.

His fingers fiddled with the fragile, old pages, as his eyes hastily scammed its contents.


3/2-Dear Diary,

For fucks sakes, I have no idea why I'm writing right now. I mean, I do love to write as much as I love to cook but keeping track of my life seems kind of pointless. Zeff told me it was good practice and even though that old man doesn't know shit, I've decided to do it anyways because why the hell not?

So I'm supposed to talk about my daily routines and unusual things that happened in my life right? Well, today was my birthday and it was pretty shitty. Zeff threw me this shitty party and most of my friends came. Don't get me wrong, that part was actually pretty nice but Usopp brought this dumb looking guy named Zoro and he shittily ruined my birthday. Is that even a word? Shittily. It sounds funny so I'll just keep it.

This Zoro guy, who I now call marimo because of his green hair, severally injured my pride. Therefore, I feel pretty crappy tonight.

I insisted others to bring some girls and they did but only two of them, Robin and Nami, it was completely fine because both of them were lovely. They were very pretty and had really nice bodies, so I really liked them. They laughed like angels and the one called Nami even hit me few times. It was wonderful!

But that stupid moss guy interrupted me when I was flirting with my sweet flowers and even picked a fight which I couldn't resist. He made fun of my eyebrows! I mean it was my birthday, that guy should have had some damn respect. He just kept on insisting until I kicked him in the stomach where I knew it would hurt because Zeff kicked me in the same place countless amounts of times.

He punched me back then I kicked him again and it was just this non-stopping cycle until both of us were thrown out by my shitty old man.

Who kicks out the birthday boy? It was completely Zoro's fault anyways, he should have been the only one kicked out.

I already hate him. He is like this unwanted ingredient in my recipe.

Thinking about this makes me angry all over again. I'm going to sleep soon. I really don't want to go to school tomorrow but I know I have to or else Zeff might beat the shit out of me again.

Shitty old man and marimo, I hate both of them.


He frowned upon the content laid out in front of him and contemplated if this was truly written by his grandfather. It undoubtedly sounded like a complete stranger. The boy in the papers sounded as if the world was about to end for him or he was having some type of a midlife crisis. Unnecessarily dramatizing miniature circumstances. He was so completely amateur and free of any realistic worries, it evidently demonstrated how young Sanji Blackleg used to be.

Even though the topic was rather intriguing to some extent, it still did not answer his previous question. How was this significant? Robin had informed formerly that every gift his grandfather left behind had a specific value.

The rationale behind his parents' gifts was fairly straight forwarded and frank, he purely wished for the two to attain more universal knowledge, something they perceptibly lacked. For his grandmother, the boy deduced that it was because Sanji did not wish his wife to become homeless. As for the rest of his relatives, Sanji most likely wanted them to make an intellectual assessment knowing they merely had a single chance.

The lone inquiry he wasn't clever enough to figure was the one that related to him the most.

"Ms. Sana, please refill my tea pot," he pleasantly requested of the nearby maid with a charming voice that he had mastered after all these years. The crinkle of his eyes gave the impression that he was smiling when in actuality, he truly was not.

The cocoa skinned woman gladly took the task, "Of course Mr. Blackleg." She grinned to herself as she hurried to the kitchen, eager to satisfy the boy's requests whom had just wrongly acted in order to fulfill his cravings.

He poured more tea for himself then proceeded in reading.

AN: I've actually held this idea for quite awhile but I never knew how to project the plot line until now. I thought it was a great chance seeing how I'm almost finished with 'what are the chances.' Compared to that one, I feel as if this story is much more advanced in plot wise and wording wise. Hopefully, I will continue improving. So Elucidation won't specifically have a central character, maybe the grandson. It will somewhat have a chronological plot. Emotions will be one sided seeing how the grandson only holds Sanji's journal and certain things will be vague especially at the beginning. Sanji will probably contradict himself repeatedly and sometimes confuse you(readers). I purposely created an immature tone with the commencement of the journal to develop characterization. This is my first time attempting something like this so if it fails, I apologize from the very beginning.