Under the cover of darkness, Kuwren sneaks herself and her brother out of the house they lived him. She clutches to his hand tightly and even with the absence of light, she can see the impassive look on his face. A minuscule grin tugs at her lips as her feet move across the tree-covered land, her body knowing where every indent and bump is, herself now naturally straying from them. Small giggles float up from her at the faint confused undertone from Mihawk. Ever since the incident at the village, which they still don't understand why it happened, her brother had been trying even harder to keep a solid grasp on his feelings and what he showed. Kuwren supposes it had something to do with the evening her father called him into his study and he came out with a blank, stone cold face. Finally reaching her hill, she pulls him closer to her body to counteract the sudden rush of cold air that covered the air.
Mihawk just watches as she drags him up the hill and into the weeping willow, its branches sturdy under them. He can barely see the look on her face from the night that surrounds them, but he just leans back and stares at her face with a blank expression.
"Ready?" Her soft voice jolts him out of his fade from reality and he nods faintly at her question. Kuwren tells him to wait and so he does, keeping his eyes on her as she lowers from the branch of the tree they stayed in. Her small feet pad against the dew covered grass and she begins to run her fingers across the blades. At first, there was nothing, and then- a light.
And then, a thousand lights bloom up from the grass, spreading to the trees around them. The gems of sunlight began to rise. She clambers back onto the branch, a giddy look on her face as she stares expectantly at her brother. A dumbfounded look on his face that not even his harsh training could claim as he watches the buds float up with the bulbs on their backs lit brightly. The lights reflect in his eyes, which trail back to his sister with a questioning look in them.
She only grins brightly, teeth and all, and chirps to him, "happy birthday, Mihawk." The blonde stares at his sudden blank expression, a faint sense of worry that she did something wrong fills her gut at his stillness. They don't celebrate birthdays at the Dracule house, but she had to do something for her brother at his tenth birthday - it was normally a special day for children and their parents but considering their father would never do such and thing and their mother was- well, she couldn't exactly help them.
Silence surrounds them and Kuwren flinches at his purely blank expression, her bottom lip begins to tremble until-
"Thank you," he breathes faintly, and from the illuminating bugs she see's the smallest of smiles curl on his lips.
And she's happy because she knows that no matter how powerful he becomes, how locked away he sets his emotions, he will always be her brother.
It's when the winter season comes that Kuwren remembers. She remembers the memories of her past life, the memories she tries so desperately to forget. They flood her head and push and throb, trying to make her understand that this is not who you are, you are not Dracule Kuwren. The blonde falls to her knees and clutches her small head in her hands tightly, clenching her eyes tightly to keep the tears from falling. She doesn't want to cry, she doesn't want to cry because she hates the feeling- she hates how bad it makes her feel.
A knot forms in her throat, and she struggles to keep her breath from hitching. Her body trembles but she does not cry, furiously rubbing away the tears that build up on the edges of her eyes. Images that she barely remember flash in her eyes and she sees hideous things, hideous sights that she doesn't want to remember. There was blood. So much blood. The scream building up in her throat is barely contained as her breaths attempt to claw free from her constricting throat. Just breath, just breath, just breath.
She inhales shakily, and doesn't exhale; the breath won't leave. Small, pale hands wrap around her throat and she claws at it to try and get the air to escape. She tries so viciously to keep the tears from falling and the dry sobs wrack her frail form. Her lips turn blue as she collapses onto her forearms, coating her body with the snow. The hill she ran to is covered in frigid white powder, not a single breath of nature there to give her breath. Visions of snow and ice, fire, and blood fill her head. A sickly crimson covers her body and when she looks at her hands, blood covers them. Her body jerks back and she sees faces surrounding her but all she sees is a blur, no features. Her hands wrap tighter around her pale neck and she struggles to take a single breath, inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale. Darkness consumes her vision and her surroundings slow to a blur as her body falls, never to escape again and finally falling to the icy grip of-
Exhale.
And suddenly, Kuwren can breathe.
Warm arms wrap around her body, and Kuwren realizes that she never knew how wonderful it was to be able to breathe. Her mouth clamps shut and all she does is bury her head in the chest that holds her steady, letting her body shudder. Calloused hands gently rub away the tears and faint murmurs of sweet nothings and soft promises break the veil of terror. Mihawk just holds his sister tightly, ignoring the growing fear in his chest at the thought that he could have lost her then and there. He only breaths, in, out, in, out, and his grip tightens.
When all is said and done, Kuwren is still but a child without a mother. So she sits her days out under the weeping willow on her hill while the buds of spring begin to bloom and blossom. She sits there, wondering even still, why was she given such a beautiful place. Her back lies against the soft blades of grass as her brother rests next to her, his eyes closed with an unusually relaxed expression on his face.
Kuwren sighs and watches the birds flutter around the willow and an impossibly small smile curls on Mihawk's lips as he drags an eye open and sees one of them land on the blonde's still form. The little canary titters on her chest and cocks its head, staring at those odd golden eyes with its own abyssal black orbs. The slight of her lips twists into a grin and what comes out is half of a laugh and a sob because of course the bird has to be a canary. Her grip only tightens around her brother and her grin becomes something a bit sadder.
But it's okay- it's okay, because Kuwren has Mihawk, and that's all she needs.
She knew it would be a good idea to set up the grave under the willow tree, the canaries always did enjoy resting on it. And so did she.
His mind goes blank as the blade of his father's clashes against his and Mihawk feels his body move back multiple inches. His lips quirk faintly because last week it was feet instead of inches. He could feel the strain on his muscles as he trains day in and day out to become stronger.
Every day his father pushes him further than he ever thought he could go, and Mihawk is glad. Because he needs to be the strongest if only to protect those precious butterfly kisses. He had known his mother for five years before she- And he would not waste those five years, he would remember her and he would remember the stories she used to tell him before. He knows how gentle his mother was, the exact opposite of his father and himself and that's why he will never let her take up a blade. Why he will never let Kuwren ever take up a blade and spill blood. He won't let that crimson cover her hands, never to be washed away. He see's what it does to people - his father in particular on those truly dark days - and he never wishes that fate upon her.
So as he swings at his father and takes blow after blow, scratches covering him from head to toe, he takes pleasure in the minuscule scratch on his father's upper arm because that means he's getting better. That means he's getting stronger. And getting stronger meant he would be able to protect Kuwren. He would protect her, unlike he did with his mother.
Mihawk will shed the blood of even the gods if it makes his sister safe.
The Dracule family was one that showed little emotions, and Dracule Canaria was the only one that did when she first had Mihawk. So as Kuwren goes about her day, tittering and bouncing around like a little bird, it tends to bring an oddly warm feeling to Dracule Rev's chest. He's afraid because he knows that when his two children get older, they will have to deal with his mistakes. They will have to deal with his past, and he fears more than anything, that Kuwren will become too much like him.
That's why- that's why he doesn't interact with them. He doesn't want to drive Kuwren to be like Mihawk, who unfortunately took after him. He wants to keep the precious girl just like her mother. Rev tries to stay out of their way because he knows that if he even tries to interact he will mess something up and remove that smile from her lips. That smile that tugs at his heart too great. It hurt to look at her, and Rev just buries his hands in his head as he sits in his office. But through all the pain clouding his mind, a small giggle breaks through like the sunshine on a foggy day. And he lets the faintest of smiles quirk on his lips because as long as he can keep the smile on her lips and the giggle in her throat, he will be okay.
Rev will be okay.
Kuwren never wanted to fight, she always tells herself that fighting is useless and even though she was thrown headfirst into this world that revolved around strength, she doesn't want to fight. She never had a reason too.
And then, suddenly she does.
It was the evening, the sun resting low on the horizon and the sky fading to a lovely shade of crimson. It unsettles her with the mixture of tangerines and cherries but the feeling was pushed aside as she skipped to the hill. Her now platinum blonde hair had gotten a little longer and she was overjoyed to be able to put it in a small braid. Kuwren's small fingers struggled to get the intricate knots in but she was the only person to do it with Mihawk who only knew his own hair and father who she never saw.
She runs her hand through the blades of grass that reach her waist from her small height and plucks a daisy that lives away from its family in the patches of flowers. The blossom twirls in her fingers as a peaceful air surrounds her body. Golden eyes shift upwards when she feels a slight shift in the air and they narrow. A group of children scale the hill with sticks and other wooden branches in their arms. She notices who they are from a mile away, they're the same kids from that little village that persecuted her brother.
"Hey look! I told you, didn't I? They come here all the time," one of them jerks their head to the others, a finger pointing blindly at Kuwren, whose blood runs cold.
"What are you doing here?" The blonde struggles to speak calmly as her body trembled with barely concealed rage. She would never forgive anyone who harmed her brother. Her fists clench and her left one keeps a tight grip on the daisy but refrains from crushing it.
One of them steps up with a coy grin on their face and twirls a lighter in their hand. He pops the lid open and lets the flame flicker, illuminating the mad gleam in his eye. "This is only paying your stupid family back for everything they've done to us," his words make Kuwren sick to her stomach and before she knows it, she's sprinting faster than she ever has. Because if he even dares to let that flame touch the tree and her mother's grave she'll tear him limb from limb, get that away from her. The birds scatter as the other boys dump whatever dry wood they have at the base of the tree, their feet crushing the flowers that were lain on the scuffed dirt so gently.
Everything turns to a blur for Kuwren as she reaches them and leaps onto the boy with the lighter, clawing at his face and screaming at him to stop. Two of the others grab onto her arms and haul her off of the boy who looks only slightly scuffed up, an ugly frown plasters on his face. She screams at them to stop and get away from her and get the hell away from her mother!
They all just step back and for a moment, Kuwren can feel her heart stop in her chest and the tears she once held back break through the dam. Her mind floods with emptiness as the lighter falls from his hand in a gracefully agonizing way and sets the wood ablaze. Heat snaps at her skin and the boys all jump from how fast the flame catches on the tree. They all sprint away from the growing fire. From her lax grip, the daisy dances away from her loosened hand. The bloom gets caught in the wind and begins to fly toward the rapidly growing flames which soon envelopes the bottom of the tree. Branches catch the flame and it grows to the very top, smoke rising into the now smoggy air.
Without time for rational thought, her body acts on pure instinct and lunges for the flower that's just out of her reach. The pads of her fingers graze the bottom of the stem before it's consumed in the flames. Its petals wither and soon the flower is nothing but ash. Kuwren meets the ground in a heavy impact after her lunge and fire licks at the skin of her arms which had fallen into the burning mess, a scream shredding her throat as she bellows out in pain. The blaze dries her eyes and she struggles to get out of the flame, falling into the empty expanse of dirt surrounding the hill and attempting to roll it out. She takes a moment to thank whoever was up there that the grass had been gone for years, causing the fire to stay in the area surrounding her willow. A choked sob tugs at her throat and the adrenaline in her system ignores the pain her body feels from the burns that ravage the skin of her arms. Pained golden eyes flood towards the grave her brother and she had set up, makeshift as it was with a plank of wood and a consistent fresh bundle of flowers at its base. The bouquet was engulfed and soon burnt to ash, fresh tears bursting from her eyes as the wooden plank was shredded by the flames.
"No…" Her body shudders and her words slur as dark spots begin to appear in her eyesight. Her breath hitches and her shoulders tremble as her body sways slightly and she cries out weakly once more before her head pitches forward into the abyss.
Kuwren wakes up to pain and the familiar golden eyes of Mihawk, who bites his lip as he stares her down. Her own hues hazily glance over the balm and the gauze on the bedside table. Her eyes just squeeze shut tightly as the memory hits her in the face and her heart clenches. "They," her voice is a wheeze and she attempts to move her hand to hold her brother's but the pain is too strong, "they," her breath hitches and her lips tremble as sobs rip from her chest. Mihawk just lets his hand run through her hair, his own eyes closed in the painful memory of seeing the makeshift grave burnt to the ground, surrounded by the charred remains of the willow whose branches once seemed so invincible.
Hours later, when Mihawk returns from when he had left to check on his father, he returns to a sight he never wishes to see again. Kuwren lie on the bad, her lips in a straight line as she stares up at the ceiling with a blank look in her eyes. There was nothing there, it was just blank. Mihawk faintly frowns and breathes to compose himself for a moment before climbing into the bed, careful not to jostle or even brush against her arms. He curls up next to her, and for a moment, Mihawk is a child again.
It's at least two days in, and Mihawk is tired of just laying around, mourning for what was lost. He has a conviction that this happened because of his weakness, he should have been with her and why wasn't he with her and now she's hurt and not okay and you're weak and weak and useless and weak. His hands tug through his dark locks and he growls to himself under his breath. His feet lead him from one side of the room to the other, head filing with various thoughts and ideas about his sister and how he could have prevented this. If only he knew. He needed to get stronger. Mihawk had noticed the smoke in the air and without a thought, raced to the direction her hill was. He reached the bottom of the hill right as soon as she lunged into the fire and reached her right as her head pitched forward, landing in his lurching arms.
He had sent a scalding glare to the last of the children running off into the woods and hurried her off to the house where his father scooped her up into her arms like she was a baby again before walking off with her body in large strides. Before Mihawk could get into the medical room their house had, the door was slammed shut in his face and he knew that meant to wait. So he waited.
Two days after the first time he visits her, he makes a decision. He stops laying in the stuffy room next to her and starts training harder than before, he would protect her. He will not let this happen again.
Because, he figures, if he was stronger he could have gone to the village sooner and finish any qualms they had against his family. But the first time he ever went to the village, there were too many people and they overpowered him accompanied by the harsh words and glares from the adults. He would just have to be able to take them all out on his own - he will keep her safe.
Seconds, minutes, hours, days pass and Kuwren just stares up at the stark white ceiling. Her face is blank but her mind is consumed with thoughts. She should have been able to do something, she should have done something, anything. But she didn't, she was weak. She has never trained a day in her young life like her brother has, since he was very young. The blonde never thought she actually had a reason to fight, she always thought she could stay out of the main future by staying on the sidelines and living on the land unknown. But it seems that fate has different plans for her.
Kuwren has never liked the concept of fate, and as she stares at the ceiling she thinks to herself. She thinks about all that has been and all that will be. She doesn't want to fight, and she wasn't going to, but if fate thinks it can meander its way into her life and destroy her happiness then fate has another thing coming. So she makes a decision, she makes a decision because she's tired of being fates doormat, and she wants to take things into her own hands. And to do that, as much as she hates it, if she wants to protect the things she loves, she has to get stronger.
She has to fight.
And so, Dracule Kuwren decides to fight. If only to protect what she loves.
"What? Why?" Kuwren cries, a small snarl on her lips as she faces the back of her father who sits straight in his chair, a pen scratching on a paper she couldn't see. "You teach Mihawk," her jab goes mostly unnoticed except for the fact her father sighs and lays the pen down. He rubs his forehead and stands, towering over the short little girl, a barely seen frown on his lips.
"I will not let you fight, Kuwren." Her father's tone suggesta that the conversation is over but Kuwren was not over with it.
"And why not?"
His face remains calm and his eyes are cloudy as they stare down at her. "I will not and that is final. You will not make me change my mind." Kuwen feels her brows furrow and she frowns, fists clenching in the anger that came over her.
"Is it because I'm a girl? It is, isn't it?" She spits, a dark fury in her eyes that Rev can't help but freeze at because it's the same gaze Canaria gave him when she was angry. He grits his teeth at the thought of her and raises his voice slightly.
"It is nothing like that, Kuwren. I do not discriminate between female and male warriors. I just will not allow you to fight," tension fills the air at this. "You're mother never did, and you never will," he mutters under his breath, composing his form before shooting a parental glare at her. But Kuwren has already been through that before, she will not go through it again and she sure as hell will not go through it with him.
"Do you even see what you're saying?" She counters, now beginning to pace around the front of the room. "I need to learn or else I'm just going to get hurt again - or else," she pauses swallowing saliva that builds up in the back of her throat. She inhales, and exhales, remembering the feeling of breathing. "I want to fight, I want to be able to protect myself and everything I love. I want- I want to breathe."
Rev stares at her evenly despite the way his chest throbs painfully at how familiar her conviction is and how powerful her words are in truth to his head. He wants to, god how he wants to, but he won't. He refuses. And it's for a stupid reason.
"I will not train you. That is it." He guides her out of the room and slams it shut, a lock sounding and for a moment, Kuwren forgets she's more than a five year old, she forgets she's more than some child and yells, and screams, and cries. She cries at how unfair is it, how unjust he is, how she's not some flower that shouldn't fight she's not-
"I'm not her." Her voice resonates in the room and then she's gone, back to find Mihawk because if their father won't help her, then her brother will have to.
Kuwren misses his barely audible sob.
"Mihawk?" Her small voice breaks Mihawk's concentration as he slashes at the training dummy with the stone training sword he wielded. He pauses and nods his head slightly before turning to his sister, a lighter gaze in his eyes when they reach her. Something feels wrong when he sees the traces of anger that linger in her speech and when she runs to him, latching her arms around her stomach.
"What do you need?" He is impassive and lets one of his hands rest on her head for a moment as she burrows her head deeper into his stomach. She mumbles an answer and he simply blinks before asking her to repeat herself.
"Will you train me?" Her words made Mihawk pause and his eyebrows rose for a moment before they narrowed.
"Why do you ask me? You can just ask father." He doesn't like how she stiffens when he says that or how there's a faint growling under her breath. There's fury in her voice as she speaks.
"He… He won't teach me," she explains shortly, eyes directing them elsewhere than his own.
"And why not?" His tone stays even as he watches his sister, and it's a small marvel how different they are. Silence consumes her for a moment and she lets out a desperate sigh, tilting her head down.
There's an odd gleam in her eyes and Mihawk can't quite place it but it just seems off. "Mother."
"Ah." The silent explanation is there and the boy needs no further explanation.
"So will you?" Her voice is light again and Mihawk thinks for a moment before telling her to visit him again tomorrow for an answer. She had nodded before running out, her face ten shades brighter than it was a moment earlier.
The moment she ran out of the room, Mihawk resumed his training. His feet shifted and with one foot slightly in front of the other, he swung the blade, adjusting to the new weight. He slashed the practice dummy before bringing his blade back to guard. Thoughts whirred around in his head as his body began to move unconsciously. Originally, he had never wanted to give Kuwren a blade, he had sworn he would be the one to fight. But the look of conviction in her eyes tilts him to no end because he had the same look in his eye before. Pausing in his slash, he eyes the door and breathes out before resuming. He is hesitant, he doesn't want to train her, he never wanted to.
He shifts his stance and readjusts the blade, his body already yearning for something stronger, more powerful to wield. But he continues what his father taught him, grumbling under his breath. Mihawk knows what the world holds, his father told him many years ago when he first began to train with the art of the sword.
He had told Mihawk that if he were to learn the blade, it would have to be his only priority. And Mihawk had chosen the sword, he had chosen the sword because he would be the strongest in the world. He would protect his sister with his blade and no one will stand against him. But, he considers, if she wishes to learn as well, I cannot deny her. The look in her eyes, the determination in her words.
So Mihawk decides to train his sister while his father refuses.
"No," Mihawk uses his own blade to shift her footing and readjusts her arms as she holds the lightest wooden blade the Dracule family owned. He forgets how he was when he began. He commands her to swing but the blade barely lifts off the ground and he sighs, he has a lot of work to do.
As the days pass, Kuwren almost laughs because through the pain and soreness of her torn muscles, they grow stronger. She can feel her endurance lengthening and she almost wields the wooden blade properly.
"Think of a sword as an extension of yourself," Mihawk repeats the words his father says to him and teaches her. He swings a secondary wooden sword and knocks her back. "Firm footing," he reminds, and with her teeth grit, she nods. His blade clashes with hers and she skids back at least a foot. It reminds Mihawk of himself; his lips quirk.
"You must always take care of your sword," his father would tell him. "A mark on a sword is a mark on a swordsman's pride." Mihawk always takes care of the steel sword he practices with, cleaning it after every lesson and relays the same lesson onto his sister who is almost ready for stone.
Kuwren sits cross-legged, her back against her brother's as they sit in an open field of tall grass. The sun barely hangs on the horizon, slowly sinking under the scenery. Her body relaxes and she ignores the soreness in her muscles in favor of the sunset around them. Mihawk does not watch, but he lets his sister lean on him with his eyes shut. A breath of a laugh escapes her mouth and Kuwren can't help the smile that continuously grows on her lips as her arms wrap around her legs. Her hair is down and surrounds her sharp eyes which are trained on the hawk that circles the sky above them. She simply snuggles closer to Mihawk and shuts her eyes.
Kuwren stares at the mirror in her room, most of her clothes were discarded on the floor. Her eyes are dim as she traces her arms and the marks that cover them, the skin significantly pales than the rest. It's wispy in some places and jagged in others but she just sighs and clenches her eyes shut before lifting them up. The scars trail from her palms to her shoulders and to the beginning of her neck. She doesn't like it but she has to live with it. The pads of her fingers run against the skin and it's much rougher compared to her natural skin. She frowns and attempts to tear her eyes away from the skin. The texture bugs her and she doesn't like it. She doesn't like it at all.
But she has to live with it now.
Time goes by and soon, the charred remains of the willow are cut down. Kuwren hurries to the hill with gentle hands holding a seed they had stolen from the small village. It wasn't a willow tree seed, but a cherry tree would work well enough. Her brother has taken the task of taking out the dead tree and digging out the stump while she brings the seed. She finds him waiting for her with a small hole dug out behind the newly restored grave of their mother. Gracing him with a small smile, Kuwren lays the seed in the bottom of the dug hole and covers it back. She pours the little water they managed to bring and step back. She wraps her hand around Mihawk's, who simply nods to the grave and begin walking away.
Kuwren pulls her hand back and picks a small flower from the ground that still was fresh with blooms away from the burnt ground and lays it on the grave. That done, she runs back to her brother and swings their hands, a gentle smile covering her lips as they walk back to the house. The daffodil just remains on the grave despite the wind that blows at it.
She pulls her body closer to Mihawk's and sighs. Things will be okay.
Kuwren is nine when it happens. Kuwren is nine when her father dies.
It started out as him being gone for a few hours each day, always returning for Mihawk's training. Who in question, was advancing in leaps and bounds, he was able to beat his father in some of the spars the two had. All the knowledge he learns, he passes onto Kuwren who had advanced to a stone sword months back and is bordering the next level finally. Soon, their father was gone for longer and at times it was days until he would return. Every time he returned home, blood would follow him wherever he went. The blonde worries for him and when he comes home after three days go by, there are loose bandages surrounding his body that do nothing to hide the condition he's in.
As Kuwren watches the spars between her father and Mihawk, it's obvious how his skin starts to tear easily and his stomach inclines more. She worries despite her ill towards him and she tries to get him to eat and seek better medical attention. But he just pushes her away and says he'll deal with it himself. His face begins to sink the longer he's gone and he never even looks at them anymore, even Mihawk barely gets a glance. His father barely ever trains him anymore, just passes along without more than a talk.
It when he's gone longer than a week that he returns and Kuwren can feel the blood leave her face at him. Mihawk ushers her away and as much as she wants to stay she obeys, knowing the look on his face.
Hours pass and Kuwren just sits in the grass outside of the house, brushing the flowers and the grass with her fingertips. She leans back until her back is on the soft ground, her sharp eyes staring up at the overcast sky, blocking out the sun and any of its rays. When the door opens, her entire body jolts to see Mihawk with a blank face. She blinks as he walks to her in silence, grabs her hands, and starts to walk off, away from the house.
"Mihawk?" Her voice is barely a whisper and a look of confusion falls over her but her brother does not respond. He takes her up the hill they never visited anymore and he sits next to the sapling they had planted at least a year ago. He still hasn't uttered a word and Kuwren follows suit as she sits next to him, each of them on either side of mother's grave.
The swordsman just sits on the ground, an empty look in his eyes as he blinks downwards, his eyes unseeing. Kuwren repeats his name and grips his hand tighter. Her heart begins to thump faster as his dull eyes drag up to her painfully slow. She flinches at the look on his face but stays silent. "Father joined mother."
Kuwren stays silent but a grimace crosses her normally soft features and she does nothing but let her shoulders slump. "Oh," she murmurs, body falling forward until she's leaning on her forearms on the newly growing grass, "oh."
Silence consumes them.
Kuwren stares up at the night sky, her brother asleep in the house. Her eyes trace every star and it reminds her of home. She smiles melancholically before closing her eyes with a sigh, a smile curling on her lips. Platinum hair spreads around her similar to a halo and she just lets her body lay there. Dabs of water fell on her limbs from the clouds that began to cover the night sky, enveloping the stars. One lands on her nose and another on her left arm, trailing down slowly. More begin to fall, one on her leg, one on her forehead. It soon begins to pour as she lay on the grass, her clothes soaking her down. One on the scar on her chest, and one on her cheek, mixing with the salt water that remained.
Water pours over her body and for a moment, she thinks back to what she could have had. And suddenly, the water stops and her eyes dragging upwards to see an umbrella covering her body. Her head tilts and she sees Mihawk drenched in water, his eyes elsewhere as he held it out over her. Her eyes soften and she grabs his large hand and the two siblings make their way back to the house.
It will be alright
I still need to edit this more but I've had this 6k written for a few months and haven't put it up because im trash. So ill maybe write more and upload that hopefully in a shorter time
hope you enjoy this though :)lemme know what you think if you want, and if not then we all good