Disclaimer: Don't and won't own One Piece.
It is beautiful, Dracule Canaria figures. She is beautiful. The little bundle in her arms that snuggles closer to her mother's breast for warmth. Frail hands stroke the newborn's head, a weak smile overcoming her lips. The small tuft of platinum hair that's sure to darken to a lovely golden, bounces on the child's head as her mother gingerly rubs the thin locks with her fingers. Her eyes are open and by god, they are just as sharp as her son's eyes. That pale yellow will definitely darken to the shocking sunshine like color her husband and son are graced with. There's a mild childish disappointment that none of her children take her own eyes but at least one of the two ended up with her blonde genes. Canaria's thumb strokes the baby's cheek as the small eyes begin to shut in exhaustion just as the mother wishes to.
But she still has one last job and she always did have a thing for birds.
"Kuwren. Dracule Kuwren," she murmurs and leans into the bed, the faint shadow of her husband at the door warms her heart, knowing he isn't one for sentimental things. She can see the outline of her son on the outside of the room she gave birth in, and she almost laughs at how he tries to present himself, just like his father.
A pressure soon began to push up her chest, and a coughing fit strikes her. One of the doctors decides to remove the baby as to not get any infection spreading to her weak immune system. It's when a wad of blood lands on the hand that covers her mouth that Canaria frowns, watery blue eyes turning a shadowy gray. They turn upwards to her husband. "Rev… It's time."
It's her time.
Dracule Mihawk stares down at the bundle of blankets in his arms, the soft chub of cheeks twitching ever so slightly. His cold eyes trail along the small wisps of platinum hair down to her pale eyes, which live up to the Dracule name. He hears a rustle from outside the room he's in with the baby. His father is in the room with his mother; the doctor said they have to take care of a small problem and he's forbidden to enter by command of his father.
A problem. They had to take care of a "problem". What did they take Mihawk for? A child? Granted he technically is one, at the tender age of five, but that doesn't mean he does not understand how the world works. He's always been very aware of his mother's poor health, and that this pregnancy can cause complications with the thin strand of life she struggles to grasp onto even now. Eyes that had unconsciously moved to the door, travel back to the child in his arms.
She is so small, so precious, so weak. And Mihawk hates it. He hates her, he hates his mother, he hates his father. He hates her because she was the cause of this, he hates his mother because she is so accepting of this, he hates his father because he does nothing.
Mother is there, mother is always there. Like butterfly kisses on a warm spring afternoon, like the tiptoe of the rain on the patio on those stormy summer days in the evening, like the softly dancing breeze during a chilly autumn morning, and like the song of the wolves during the nights of winter, howling for the comfort of their pack.
But father is the opposite, he is the flash floods that wilt the buds of flowers in spring, he is the deathly hot sun that dries up all the water during the summer, he is the buzzards that eat away the food in the autumn, and he is the cold release of death in the icy grips of winter.
And Mihawk doesn't know where he, nor this new human being, belong. He can hear the shouts in the room beside him, the sobs, the screams, he can hear them all and he knows. His mother won't make it out of this one. His grip on the little girl tightens and he grits his teeth holding back any kind of emotion. For all his mother had taught him, he is still too far like his father. The anticipation is deafening, and Mihawk for once, is scared - no, scared wasn't it; he is terrified. It feels like years as he stands ever stiff outside of the room his mother is in, constantly forcing his breaths to even out. Even when the shouts become increasingly loud he keeps his breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
Behind the paper thin walls, he hears the cries of his mother and it suddenly becomes harder to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
More shouting. More crying. More, more, more. He waits patiently for it to stop but it won't stop just please stop I beg you to just stop.
Mihawk is strong, and he will make his sister strong. He is a big boy, his mother says so. She said that once this is over, once his sister is here, he would be a big brother. Which meant he has to take care of his younger sister. He has to be there when she can't.
In. Out. In. Out.
It's when the shouting stops and the crying stops that Mihawk stops.
Because he knows, he knows that she- that his mother is gone. His mother is gone and there's nothing he can do, his mother is gone and there was nothing he could do because if he was stronger then-
"Mihawk." The single call from his father nearly makes the boy lose his grip, but if he has been taught anything, it was to not lose his grip. "Look at me." It's when his sharp yellow eyes shoot up to his father's that he truly knows.
Those days of spring kisses, summer showers, autumn dances, and winter songs are over.
The days of spring floods, summer droughts, autumn famines, and winter deaths are beginning.
But as much as he wants to shout and scream and yell at his father for not saving her, he stays silent and stares up with that simple stare of his that can unsettle a lesser man. Despite the pain that Mihawk feels so strongly, despite how his heart aches so badly, he doesn't miss the look in his father's normally emotionless yellow eyes. He doesn't miss how Dracule Rev's eyes are haunted in a way that they never were before.
And for the first time in the few years he has been alive, Dracule Mihawk cries - for himself, for his mother, for his father, and for his little sister.
That morning, the canaries that normally flutter and chirp in his mother's garden are nowhere to be seen.
By the time Dracule Kuwren is two years old, she realizes something is wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Because when she gets up on those little legs and gazes into a mirror for the first time, she comes to a conclusion. This is not her.
She has brown hair- not blonde.
She has hazel eyes- not yellow.
Her name, Dracule Kuwren, is not really hers. And for a moment, she wonders, who am I?
Her head cocks to the side slightly and she almost scares herself with those eyes of hers, because when she thinks about it, about where she is, it's almost scarily familiar. She knows those eyes, she knows those faces. Well, at least one of them.
Dracule Mihawk - her older brother. The one who set this mental crisis off, because his name is something that she knows. His face is something she knows. This is not her world, she does not belong here, she wants to go home. It's when Kuwren thinks back, that she realizes exactly what stole her away from what was once hers. Because this- this world, this family, this set of eyes - are not hers. And she doesn't want them. She wants her own back. The sigh that tumbles from her lips is almost contemplative because she is something that isn't supposed to be here, something that doesn't belong.
Kuwren is not an idiot, she knows all about the butterfly effect and she knows exactly what she is causing by simply existing, and she doesn't want to cause it. She doesn't belong here and her very existence is a plot hole that messes everything up. But she knows, she knows that there is nothing she can do now. Her very existence will change something, anything, everything.
Because when Kuwren looks at her brother, who stoically watches her with his eerie gaze already living up to his future name, she thinks to herself. He isn't just a character anymore, he isn't just Hawk-Eyes Dracule Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman. He's something more - he's Dracule Mihawk, her brother. And she sure as hell won't let this life go to waste as her previous one did.
This time, death won't be her enemy. This time, death will be her friend.
Mihawk doesn't talk to her, and Kuwren doesn't like that. Her father never has a reason to speak with her and her brother avoids her like a plague. She doesn't like this, she doesn't like being alone. She always used to be alone so it's nothing new for her, but it still sits wrong in her stomach. Head down, her eyes dart to her brother who purposely makes a turn in the hallways of the house to avoid her. Her lips tug down and she sighs, defeated.
But if it didn't affect her before, it won't now - she will not let it. And that's how she finds her special hill. Where there's a large weeping willow, a small pond directly next to it where it sucks up the water through its long roots to survive. The tall grass that refuses to be trimmed and sways with the gentle breeze, the lilac that hides within the grass but pops up with the prominent violet color among the green. She loves how the butterflies visit the small paradise, fluttering about like it's a second home for them. Kuwren finds the small oasis out of pure dumb luck but it's the only place she stays anymore. It lets her be at peace with the memories that continue to throb in her head, reminding her that she doesn't belong. The gentle sun rays shine through the branches of the willow, its leaves weeping from its own story. Nature is similar to a second home to the blonde and she feels most at peace while surrounded by it. The faint beat of butterfly wings pierces the silence and the soft thrum of the flowers opening in the sunlight make those painful days better.
Her brother doesn't want to be around her, and she doesn't blame him. She cruelly took his mother away and she's barely even begun to be able to forgive herself for it. If she wasn't there, then perhaps he could have lived a better life. Perhaps what happens in the future won't be so messed up. She stares up at the shadowed sky through thick eyelashes and a faint smile reaches her lips at the silence which is deafening.
She doesn't mind Mihawk ignoring her, it just means she's got to stay in the silence that comforts her when he doesn't. She is no stranger to solitude - no stranger to isolation, but where that interaction is missing, the beat of nature can always take its place. But solitude and isolation are two different things to her.
Dracule Kuwren doesn't mind the solitude, she quite enjoys it.
But she hates the isolation.
At first, Mihawk hates her. At first, Mihawk hates his sister with a great kind of passion and it's not until years later that she realizes why. He hates her for being so weak, and he hates her even more for killing his mother. He didn't blame her because Mihawk knows what happened, but he can't help but feel displeased at her.
Because she can never live up to his mother.
But then, one day, she does.
It's a gentle spring day, which doesn't happen all that often where they live and especially ever since his mother died - it's as if the island itself is mourning. His father had requested - demanded more - to go and find Kuwren from wherever she had run off to, lest she gets hurt.
The boy finds his younger sister on a hill, the long, untrimmed grass surrounding her frail form. Mihawk watches as she stares up into the clear evening sky, a peaceful look in her eyes that he had only seen once before. The words of a scolding caught in his throat as he sees her head slightly tilt upwards and a delicate butterfly flutter down to her level before coming to a ginger rest on her nose. Her eyes slowly shut and she exhales deeply, the butterfly twitching but remaining. It's then, as Mihawk stares at her, that his heart aches because she is the embodiment of Dracule Canaria. And that hurts to think about but as he spies the smile on her lips that's both too soft for her family origins and too melancholy for her age, he comes to a consensus.
Mihawk concludes that she is exactly like his mother. And that he will protect her. He won't lose another, he won't lose those delicate butterfly kisses this time. Kuwren's eyes close, but Mihawk's eyes open.
Kuwren doesn't know where it came from, but the day she comes back from re-evaluating her life, she notices a change in her brother. Whether it be the subtle shifts of his eyes that always seem to drift towards her or the way he never strays too far from her side. But something must have happened, and Kuwren isn't used to it.
She came from a world where she was on her own, straight from the moment she could comprehend a solid thought to the day she lost all thought. She never had someone to look out for her, to protect her, to care for her. And now, she has a family that protects her, cares for her, looks out for her. It's odd, she knows that, and it's not something normal for her. But there's something inside of her - she does not know if it is Dracule Kuwren or the other one - that she can not understand. Something that when she trips and see's her brother not exactly rush, but go to her aid at least, that warms her up inside. Despite living in this small, untrained, untainted body, Kuwren decides one thing.
She decides that she likes this new life of hers. Because although it feels so wrong just being here, being related to him, she decides that she likes it. And she won't give it up - not this time, or the next.
Kuwren can live with being here.
The small, blonde girl lays among the grass blades and the animals and the bugs as she stares to the side of the sun. Her oddly sharp eyes are half lidded and drag lazily against the clouds that float along the lines of the sky. The silence around her is deafening but she enjoys it because it lets her restless mind be at peace. The small, pale hand of hers raises above her face and she tilts her head slightly as the appendage fascinates her. It's so small.
Her ears twitch as she hears the sound of clashing blades and her still expression brightens. She races from the hill she loves to rest at to the training ground behind her house as fast as her little legs can carry her. Skidding to a stop, she slows her pace and hides her presence in a bush away from the training field. Striking yellow eyes dart to and fro as her brother and father clash blades. The sheen of sweat on Mihawk's forehead doesn't escape her notice and she smiles almost bitterly. He still has a long way to go.
She loves watching the two spar, and because her body is still so frail and weak, she isn't allowed to learn the art of the sword. Kuwren mostly lets her eyes track the movements of their father, at how his every move is precise and to the point. Every parry and every strike are exact and graceful in its own way. The spar is similar to a one-sided dance and her father is the star. Trailing back to Mihawk, his movements are still jagged and choppy, only reading the movements as they are at present time. He acts on instinct and does not predict or plan accordingly. It's odd to see him in such a state and it almost makes her giggle at how frustrated he seems. By the slight furrow of his brows and the narrow of his eyes.
Every day that the duo spar, Kuwren tries to watch. She doesn't particularly want to fight, she had no reason to and no drive to do so. She is well aware of the world she is in and how crucial the skill is to learn - but she just doesn't want to.
At least, not yet.
A frown tugs at her thin lips and Dracule Kuwren searches almost frantically for her brother. Mihawk went out that morning and has not yet returned and it's already the late evening. There is nowhere he could have gone without her knowing, the house they live at is surrounded by dense foliage without civilization too close. Although... Kuwren inhales sharply as she remembers the small village that was somewhat nearby - they had to get supplies to survive somewhere. Her small teeth grip each other tightly and sharp eyes dart across the house from her father's study to the door. She's normally forbidden to stray too far from the house but this is an emergency.
Her father is no use, he lives with a philosophy that children grow by making mistakes on their own and fixing it on their own. He rarely ever interacts with his own children. That's what her mother is there- what her mother used to be there for. She never even got to meet her and Kuwren will regret that forever. Shaking her head from all the thoughts that began to jumble together, she hesitates for a second more before racing off into the woods, towards the village.
Dracule Rev watches his daughter chase the path they have to the village with a bitter grin, eyes closed with the remnants of wetness on the corners. He saw the determined look in her eyes and it pains him so much that he can't form a relationship with her. Rev doesn't understand comfort, he doesn't understand how to be the strong, faithful role model of a parent - that's what his wife was for. But with Canaria gone, he does the only thing he can and makes them stronger. But he is hesitant on training Kuwren, who is nearly the spitting image of his wife. The woman who never took up a blade in fear it would cause chaos and disrupt the peaceful life she lived. But as weak as she was physically, Canaria was a tiger in spirit and if she was still alive now, she would fight tooth and nail to protect her children. So as he stares at his daughter racing off at still such a young age to find her brother, he nearly loses his grip because-
She is so like her mother.
Fear begins to drive her movements as she nears the village. Something tingles in the back of her head that spoke volumes about something that's wrong, something that's so, so wrong. Kuwren passes the few villagers that stare at the blonde curiously, a few shying away after spotting her distinctive eyes. But no one bothers to stop her as if they could feel the storm incoming. Her small feet ache with a pain she hadn't remembered feeling before, the only thing keeping her running is sheer willpower in fear for her brother.
Then she see's exactly what her mind is telling her is so wrong, why it's screaming at her to leave because it's dangerous and she needs to get out now. Mihawk has his back to a corner, - something she feels didn't fit him at all - the wooden training sword in his hand is cracked and bits are falling off. Older kids surround his body as they shout at him, screaming that he is a demon, that he doesn't belong, that he will ruin their town like his father had. The look on his face may have been blank, but she can tell even he was struggling to keep up the mask of indifference. Fear swells in his golden eyes and she knows, he's scared. Future Mihawk can take care of this without a thought or without even breaking a sweat. But present Mihawk can't, she knows that for a fact. Scratches litter his body and large red sores cover his arms and legs as if something blunt had been thrown at him. She could barely list the other injuries his body sustained without breaking down and she honestly hopes it won't be anything too bad as to permanently damage his young body.
For the first time in her short life, Kuwren feels something akin to pure, unadulterated rage as it fills her to the brim, spilling over. Before she can stop it, her voice starts screaming at them to get away that is her brother and this life be damned she won't stand for this. They stare at the child in front of them when they see her eyes, the exact same as Mihawk's own. And a rock hits her arms, her body shrinking back in pain. She spies the boy who threw it, a wicked look in his eyes as a sickening grin comes over his lips.
"She's the same as the other kid," he murmurs to the other kids, and the same glare covers their eyes. Kuwren gulps because she knows, she knows she's weak and that this is a mistake. But it doesn't matter now, it's all for her brother and for him, she would give the world. For him, she would bring society to its knees. With their attention off him, Mihawk tracks what they're staring at and his trembling body stills. He hadn't meant to drag the attention of his sister to the village, he hadn't meant to be gone for so long. A second rock flies and narrowly misses her head, the blood draining from her face at the assault. As if getting the hint, the other kids begin scrambling for more rocks, the rowdy laughter starts up again. Mihawk feels his facade fall, and he grits his teeth painfully. This isn't supposed to happen, he is supposed to be the one protecting her, he is the one who's supposed to be the older sibling for her, he's supposed to be there when his mother can't. He has to get her out of here, he has to keep her safe, he swore to his mother that he will keep her safe from harm. And then he notices something, he notices her not moving despite the tears that stream down her cheeks, despite the pain being inflicted on her frail body. She does it all to keep the attention off of her brother who is already barely standing. His lip trembles and he tries to keep his warring emotions steady, all the lessons his father had taught him about being a solid rock during battle resurfacing. But it hurt so badly, and he hates it as he stares at her taking the beating for him.
So he does the only thing he can, and throws all those lessons from his father away and tackles the closest kid to him, bringing them down and fighting the only way he could think of; the only thing filling his mind is the thought to protect his younger sister. All his training goes out the window as he scratches and punches and throws dirt at the boy, all in the name of Kuwren who struggles to not start outright wailing then and there.
This is for his sister who he swore to protect, and if Mihawk is anything, he is an honorable person.
It's hours later, that the two siblings with bruises covering their battered bodies and cuts and scratches oozing blood, walk off, out of the village with grins on their faces, hand in hand. The kids that picked on them were home, nursing the wounds on both their body and pride. It's then, Mihawk decides he will be the strongest. He will be the strongest if only to protect his sister. He will be the strongest so that he can be the big brother she needs. He won't let her down.
Not now, nor ever again.
So I was thinking about all the One Piece SIOC/OC stories I've read, and I have yet to read one like this so I decided - hey, why don't I make one like it? So here it is, tell me your thoughts and I'll decide if I should continue it or not, haven't quite decided. But so far, I am loving writing this. Hope you all enjoyed it. :) Sorry for any typo's.