You don't get it. I didn't either, for a while... [He wishes he had brought another bottle for himself, and he leans over to see where Luffy is. There, still busy. No one they're close to is really within earshot still.] I wanted people to see me a certain way. And it kept me safe. [From what? That's the problem. He does love women, he adores them and he puts them on that high place to worship. But most of it is an act. He wants women to love him, he wants to love women, but despite his acts of silliness, worship, and perversion he's not particularly interested in actually sleeping with women. And real men love women. They want to sleep with them, touch them, do everything with them and they don't like men or want to be touched by men and they especially don't like dressing like women. Things like that are innately wrong to Sanji by how he was raised.]

I know you don't need me too. You can slice up your enemies just fine. But that's not the point. It's about something deeper than that.

If a man... [Sanji gestures nervously, fingers grasping his cigarette and moving it around.] And his chosen paramour isn't of the same interests, it could ruin him. It's the kind of secret that kills friendships, that destroys someone. If they talk... [He puts the cigarette back between his lips, and sucks it down to the filter in one go. He's stressed.] Then suddenly you're the kinda man who wears fishnets and has fake breasts and facial hair. Chasing down unsuspecting men for perversion. People will never respect someone like that. So it's about defending honor and reputation. As well as getting revenge on whoever might consider hurting a crewmate.