Happy new year to everyone^^
I hope you had a great new years eve (or how we Germans like to say: I hope you slid in gently ;-P)
Today we continue with a change of scene.
I would like to thank happy reader, Polyamory and Anana16 for commenting and everybody else for following and favoring. You guys make me really happy.
But of course I also appreciate some critics so I can improve my writing and English skills ;-)
Thank you all so much and have a great time
Sharry
Chapter 1 – Discovery
It was dark.
Not one single soul was to be seen and except for the calm motion of the ocean, rocking the small boat peacefully, everything was quiet. He observed the small island in front of him with a deep smile. He knew it well and he knew that it would be almost the same like it was three months ago. Like every time he came to visit.
Determined steps led him down the rack, wood cracking under his soles. A cold wind was hugging him, pulling his hat and coat. It felt like the beginning of spring. He liked the seasons of this island. The only good thing about it he held onto. No matter what would happen this island would stay the way it was, like the last years the season would come and leave with it.
While he walked along the harbor, he could see many little boats. Most of them were fishing boats, some of them unknown, probably from voyaging tradespeople. A wide short path with light stones brought him away from the ocean into the heart of the island. Despite of the darkness he knew exactly where to go, his feet knew the way all on their own.
After walking for a few minutes he reached the edge of a village. Few houses still showed some lights in their windows, offering heartiness and coziness to wanted visitors. He was only greeted by the street's lanterns.
He passed the marketplace not slowing down his pace. His was mildly surprised that the little fountain in the middle of the plaza was dried out. Assumingly a small apocalypse for the sleepy folk, not that it mattered for him.
It took him little time to cross the complete village. The few, large houses now guarding the sides of his way were owned by the wealthy, the rich, the noble. Impressive fences out of metal or wood defined the opulent gardens. He did not care for those buildings just like he did not care for their residents. Not because of them he was here, no, certainly not.
Leaving the village behind, the true heart of this island began. He followed the twisted road, wide enough for one or two horses, but no carriage would fit. The further he went, the more the path was enframed by nature. Small bushes were replaced by tall trees, covering the sky above him. Some would be afraid to take this road all by themselves in the dark of the night, but he enjoyed the silence, the quiet whispering of the forest, the cry of a bird, the cracking of wood and distant paws, flitting over the ground. He inhaled deeply and became relaxed, like always, when he escaped the village's tightness and stiffness.
He knew he had already covered half his way, when he reached the small clearing, looking almost magical in the pale moonlight. He paused his pace, closing his eyes, like always when he came here. It felt like all the problems of this world disappeared. His shoulders became weightless. All his dark emotions and thoughts were erased. For a small eternity he was just standing there and asked himself quietly why he could not just remain at this peacefully place. Pictures of his childhood appeared in front of his inner eye. This clearing had been his harbor in this rough world, and not only his. He remembered how she had slept under this one great oak tree, in the corner of the clearing, in the middle of summer. It had been such peaceful moment. But as soon as he opened his eyes reality greeted him harshly and he knew that this useless sentimentality would only weaken him.
With crossed arms he continued his way, but his steps were not as forceful as before, his motions not as grim. The otherwise hectic world was turning a bit slower for that moment.
The forest surrounding him slowly ceased, giving place for flowers and grass and in the far distance a tall shadow gave him the chills.
Like a messenger of doom this shadow of a dangerous looking house swallowed the moon. Once again he broke his pace, but this time because all of his inner senses told him to turn his heels and run as fast as he could. But of course he would never do that, not him, he was scarred of nothing.
He was mad at himself for reacting this way, but even though he knew this place so well, he hated to be there.
There was nothing he held onto and still he had to return to this place again and again, he had no choice.
Determined he opened the small gardenport to the front yard, taking his time again to take a look at the mighty, dignified mansion, before pushing the front door open.
"Welcome home." A calm voice greeted him. The only voice he expected, not hoped for until the next morning, but expected. He closed the door behind his back and looked at the dark hallway. A soft glimmering drew grotesque shadows over the few objects in the corridor.
The source of the light came from the kitchen to his right. After taking off his heavy boots, hat and coat he carried his sword over to the doorframe.
Her back was turned towards him, a small candle in front of her giving her body a soft gleam. He watched her quietly.
"For what reason are you here?" He asked emotionless. He did not expect her here now. Did not expect the upcoming discussion until the next morning. Slowly she stood up, turning around. Next to the small candle he could now see an empty cup and half-finished knitted gloves. With raised eyebrows he watched her work half-heartedly.
"Did the winter not pass already?"
She ignored his question with a simple smile.
"I always know when the lost son is returning home. It warms my heart to face you again. You look exhausted, my lord."
"This is not my home, Kanan."
She opened her mouth to react but did not say a word as he rose weary his hand.
"This night I do not wish for dispute, go to sleep."
She nodded, her smile turning into an expressionless mask.
"Understood"
But instead of walking passed him and disappearing inside the empty house, she grabbed her little cup and brought it to the sink.
"Is there any wish, my lord, for the breakfast tomorrow?" She continued their conversation, acting like it was an affectionate meeting. He shook his head, even though she was not able to see it, washing the dishes.
"No. There is no need for you to be here, Kanan. We have encountered this many times. You are not obligated to no one here. Go home!"
She turned around once more, smiling again.
"And I do not wish to quarrel with you as well this night. Go to sleep, Sire."
She was never afraid of giving an answer and she had almost no problem meeting his cold gaze.
He knew he could not win this fight. Tossing away the conflict with his hand he turned away.
"Do as you wish. We are both fully aware, that I will have left this island before tomorrow evening. Good night."
"Sleep well." Her voice followed the landlord.
With a smile she took the candle and her knit-work and left the kitchen. Of course she could go home, but nobody would await her there. Additionally she had pledged herself to carry the duties of this family when entering this household. One of the most important rules was that once, when taken a responsibility, there was no way of handing it over again. That would be against the own honor and she had taken the responsibility to take care of him and she would do so until the end of her time. That was, what she had promised so long ago to his mother.
Almost a little mad he stumped upstairs. Although it was pitch-dark he knew where to go. Knew this dark corridor he walked down just as well as his little boat. He did not know why she was still there. He had told her many times, that her services were not needed anymore, because nobody was living here and the four days the year he spend his time at this island he did not need a mansion. He would never admit that her presence warmed his rational hear. That the clean white blankets over his bed filled him with thankfulness. That the thought of her selflessly taking care of his old childhood house calmed him and moved him the same. In the end she was the main reason, he kept returning to this island. She and his promise.
With a silent sigh he placed his sword at its carrier on top of the dresser, before taking off his clothes. Instead of the main light he had just turned on the small nightlamp, enjoying the soft shine more than the bright white. He stretched himself and went over to one of the big windows behind one seldom used small desk, opening it to let some fresh air in. Actual he had some important files to look over, but a little dispute with some unknown pirates made him unexpectedly late in his schedule, so he was missing his urge to spend time with boring paperwork.
He put on his simple white shirt and dark blue ducks he wore for sleeping and went over to the little desk, where he had noticed a small bottle of red wine and a glass. Once again unwanted warmth filled his chest, he would never admit. He pulled back the chair and fell down on it. Throwing his bare feet on the desk, ignoring its little growl, he opened the bottle and filled his glass.
He actually did not like, that Kanan took the right to choose a wine for him, without even cooling it properly. He should be really mad at her for ignoring his orders and guarding this house as well as him.
Yes, in all honestly it would be best for him to blow this house up himself and never return, but he knew that he would never be able to do so and that was why he was sitting there, enjoying the wine, watching the dark outside, while a soft breeze visited his room. Lost in thoughts he observed the shadows of the tree tips, swaying gently from one side to the other, and listened to their whisper.
Once more he heard the cry of a bird, just like on his way to the mansion, but this time it sounded differently, mourning and dying, probably the victim of a nightly hunter. A sudden cold wind swept through the room, stirring the curtains up and pulling his clothes. The sheets rustled upset and the apparently not fully closed door slammed shut. The empty bottle of wine tilted over and rolled silently over the floor. His eyes followed it for a moment before observing the dark again. Then he rose and closed the window.
Ominous heralds did not scare him, being himself nothing more than doom on two legs. This thought amused him and with an evil smile he put that glass aside, picked up the empty bowl and went to bed. The soft pillows and the smooth blanket welcomed him gently. One out of four nights a year where he could for once expect a restorative sleep…
"Good morning."
Full of verve Misses Bosatsu rushed into the bureau. Carrying a huge tablet she came inside and closed the door behind her. She paid no attention to his muttered answer, running past him, opening windows and the glass door to the balcony, pulling the curtains aside. Casually she placed the tablet gently on the old desk, burying important files he was reading.
"Kanan, is this really..."
"How can you sit in such a dark room? Have I not told you thousands of times, how bad missing light is for your eyes?"
A little bit upset she ripped the papers out of his hand and placed them at the far end of the desk. Despite her age and her figure she was exceptional agile and her love for life almost made him livid with rage.
"Kanan, please…"
"And who on earth is working before eating a proper meal? Breakfast is the most important meal…"
"Kanan!"
With every time his voice became louder, but now she finally stopped talking. Slowly he dropped his hands on the table and unwanted on the tablet.
"First, my eyes are perfectly fine. Second, I do not feel hungry. And third…"
"You are in a really lousy mood again."
The big smile on her motherly features, plus the flavorful smell of fresh coffee, tuned him soft. With a sigh he gave in, as often.
"Very well. I will have some breakfast, while working those papers and then I will head to the village. I will be back before dinner time but you do not need to prepare anything. Just do what you would always do."
"Of course, like I would let you tell me otherwise." She replied with raised eyebrows, turning to the door.
"Oh, by the way, Sire. You might want to read the newspaper for once instead of those boring paperwork." With a serious undertone she left.
The one left rolled his eyes. She had not changed in all those years. Still filled with happiness and energy. He regarded her tenderly prepared meal, filled with all that healthy good stuff no one really cared about.
Taking his coffee he got up, turning away from the desk, looking at the wall beside the door, covered with wanted posters. Over the time he had started his own collection, finding the best of the best and not so long ago he added the most precious piece. A promising talent, although still a little bit wet behind the ears.
Remembering the strange words of the housekeeper he pulled the newspaper out covered by one filled plate. Her suggestion had been unnecessary, for he always read the news. He was a master of strategy and tactics; it would be thoughtless to be not informed about his enemies. He looked at the front page.
Slowly he let go of his cup, starring at the pictures in front of him. A sudden gust of wind rushed inside. The heavy curtains busted threatening against their frames, the papers behind him reared up, chasing through the room. The heavy office chair hit the big desk. A cold shiver went down his spine, while he read the article concentrated. Coffee and breakfast long forgotten, unseen hands still tearing at clothes and documents. Hasty he opened the newspaper and combed through the more detailed articles inside.
Then he hurried down the corridor, downstairs, still holding the newspaper.
Reaching the first floor he almost collided with the only other person in this house.
"What is it, Sire? Where are you heading?"
He did not answer, but rushed to the main door, stumping his feet into the boots.
"Calm down, my lord. Thoughtless actions only lead to more problems."
"I don't need your fortune cookie wisdom!" he barked at her, taking his coat.
"But, Sire…"
"No!" He almost screamed.
"How dare you, idiot!"
With those words he threw the door open and rushed outside, hat in one hand, newspaper in the other.
With a sigh she followed him to the entrance, closing the door. She apprehended this, but she could not prevent it from happening. She knew him since he was born. He had always been a thoughtful and considered person, never showing his emotions but controlled them consciously and only allowing them, if they were useful.
In her opinion this talent was as much a gift as it was a curse, a wall, with a single door he opened and closed like he wanted to. But some events left small little fissures in this wall and at some point all those fissures would break up, would break him, if he would not learn until then how to allow his emotions to be.
Many years ago he had almost been destroyed by the power of grief and sorrow, had been changed. Since that time she did not once hear him laugh, cry, scream. But just now he did scream. Just now he acted everything but rational. It had been the first time he had awakened, filling this lifeless body, even though the reason was horrible.
Probably he would leave the island immediately. Maybe he would already be dead by sunset.
He covered the distance, he usually needed several minutes for, as fast as never before. Already reaching the slowly awakening village, still calm and peaceful, while he himself was furious like an approaching hurricane. Hastily he followed the street, passing the dried out fountain and rushing into the biggest building at the marketplace: The city hall.
It was quiet here as well; only a few early birds were on their way to work or rather to the coffee machine, but going aside as soon as they noticed him. He knew exactly where he was heading; running over whomever dared to stay in his way. Still in rage he reached his destination and opened the door.
As expected the person he looked for was already there. Luckily he was at the island today. The newspaper lay on his desk and he sipped his hot cup of black tea. White coat and cap neatly folded over the back of a chair in the corner. The man himself, dressed in a high-quality dark red suit with perfect fitting blue tie, posed on his black leather armchair. Blonde hair was strictly combed back, except for one single curl, swinging over his forehead. The green eyes widened by surprise about the sudden visitor. Surprised he put his cup down and looked up, the Rear Admiral Cho Jiroushin.
"Hawky!" He called out happily. But the arrived person just slammed the door shut and threw his newspaper into the face of the marine.
"I need information about this!" The guest ordered strict.
"Gee! A good morning to you as well." The blonde leaned back annoyed, the other one was still breathing heavily.
"Jiroushin!" His voice was dark as thunder, like in a matter of life or death.
It was an unusual sight of his friend for the marine. He looked almost desperate.
"Just calm down, will you? Sit down. Do you want to drink something? Coffee or tea?"
Hawk Eyes smashed his hand at the desk.
"I don't need coffee! I need you!" Okay forget the almost, he was desperate.
"Okay I will help you, but you need to sit down!"
Relaxed he rose and pushed the other one down onto the visitor's chair, the other one let him do so, even though it would have been no problem for him to fight Cho's hands. Then he went back to his place, observing the Shichibukai for a moment. He looked worn-out, wild hair, eyes huge like he had taken in too much caffeine and his mouth was twitching slightly.
"Okay let's go back to the beginning. For what do you need my help?"
The eyes of his counterpart jumped forth and back in between his face and the newspaper.
"I want to know the truth about this!"
With one long finger he tipped forceful at the cover-story. Grimm the blonde nodded.
"This is the worst, I have already read it. A black day for the Navy and all of that just because of one single crew."
"Jirou. The article is more than fishy with all those lies and leaks. I want the truth! I want the files."
Confused he looked up.
"Hawky, what are you talking? You are a Shichibukai. You have all the authority you need to get those files."
"Not those. I want the real one!"
Cho swallowed. "Hey, Mihawk. You know I would do anything for you, but…"
"Please." The yellow-golden eyes looked at him grim.
The officer sighed. "It's because of that pirate, isn't it? The one, who died."
The pirate nodded.
Jiroushin covered his forehead in his hands, shaking his head.
"Gee! You are always on tour and then, when you are finally at home for once, even visiting me, all you care about are top secret information about some lousy pirate, who wanted to kill you."
"It's not like he had ever been something close to a real threat for my life."
"That's not what it's about. Why are you so interested in that? He's death, so what? He was a pirate. He had been caught, that's it."
Dracule shook his head.
"But what was written in the papers isn't the truth and I need to know the truth."
The officer wanted to reply, but interrupted himself, looking at his childhood-friend and then looking outside.
"Very well", he gave in, "I have to drive over today anyway. I'll do it. I get your files, the unaltered ones. But then you owe me big times!"
The black haired one suddenly became aware of his behavior, aware of his uncontrolled emotions. Angry at himself he leaned back and put up a relaxed, almost bored expression. How could one human being, he only met once in his life, be able to take him aback without even being present? He never lost his poise!
"Thank you. That would be highly appreciated."
The marine laughed softly. "Hopeless"
Their view met briefly.
"How long do you assume you will need?"
The man in suit shrugged his shoulders.
"If I hurry I should make it back by sunset."
"That long? Why are you spending so much time at the base?"
"That's none of your business. The base is my main workplace since I got promoted; I'm only here two times a week and only if I'm not traveling for the navy. So as a matter of course I have to go there today and do other stuff. In addition we have a state of emergency after the G-6 went down this night. And as you now, the transit takes two hours if all goes well. Fortune favors fools, you know. You're lucky I'm here today and that I will come back this evening just because of you. Show some dignity!"
Confused Dracule looked at his friend.
"What are you talking? You live here."
Cho shook his head. "No. You do know that I moved with Lirin to her parents at Sadao. I told you the last time you visited. Besides, that was the plan since we married, where you were at!"
"Oh did you tell me? I cannot recall any part of that conversation. Furthermore your wedding was here, ages ago, where your sitting hen of a mother could control everything. But Sadao? Why? You love your homeland."
"I do, but that's not the point. Lirin's parents live at Sadao. Plus there is ferry traveling to the base, taking only 20 minutes and, just for the record, I like it there. The people are nice and no one knows my past."
The older one grinned slightly, his facial muscles, not used to this expression, tugged a little bit.
"Oh dear. Everybody here respects you; after all you are one highly decorated navy officer."
"Yes and I'm the boy who shaved the mayor's beard while he was sleeping, who blew up the bakery's oven and who was responsible for flooding the market three Sundays in a row. And guess who was responsible for that, as well?"
They shared an evil gaze, before the Shichibukai became serious again and also the marine became thinking.
"I'm glad you are back, Hawky. I know the people of Sasaki aren't always the friendliest ones, but only because of your name and shelter they don't have to be afraid of pirates' attacks."
The black haired one looked away.
"We do not have to debate about that. I will fulfill my duty and you remember yours."
They stood up and walked to the door.
"But thank you for visiting this island regularly. In my opinion your constant presences calms the people more than my quarterly emersion."
Jiroushin padded his shoulder.
"See you this evening."
Then he closed the door.
He exhaled slowly, emotion still boiling under his skin, but the brief conversation with his old friend helped him to regain his control. Distracted him for a moment; helped him remember better times.
On the other hand he could already feel how he became angry again. But personal things had to wait until later; for now he had more important things to do. With steady steps he walked down the corridor until he reached a tall double door made out of light wood.
He knocked. A calm voice allowed him to enter. In front of him sat a young lady with pinned up, violet curls and a tight sheath dress. Her pen flew over papers on her desk in enormous speed. She looked up briefly, her unimpressed view faced him through her crescent glasses.
"Good morning. Please wait for a moment, the mayor will ask you to entry any second."
He nodded and folded his arms. Within a few heartbeats the unimpressive door to his right opened and he went in.
The mayor of Sasaki was a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver-grey hair and beard, braided like the Vikings did. His mint green suit with fitting shoes and bows, tying the braids. One silver brooch decorated his lapel. He offered his guest one suntanned hand, who took it politely.
"Dracule. How good to see you. Welcome at home."
He nodded softly. "Thanks, Mr. Koumyou. I am glad to be here. We should now discuss business."
The older gentleman smiled friendly.
"Sure. You have become quite a busy man. I just get the files. Seat yourself. Houran, please be so kind to bring some coffee."
The last minutes seemed to be long ago, as he sat down and listened to the dark voice of the mayor. The voice, which had raced him down the marketplace years ago. The voice, which had discussed with his parent over his pranks years ago. The voice, which predicted great things for him. The old Koumyou had been the only adult, who believed in him. Just like he had believed in that young man of the East Blue. But he had been wrong.
"And those are the reports. Well, let's see. Houran, where is the coffee?"
The mayor sat down at his desk, smiling big. Then he opened the first file and started talking over numbers and statistics. Yes, this world was a whole different one to the one only hours ago.
The Shichibukai could not keep himself from yawing while reading a summary of the last navy missions over the last months. Mainly unimportant trivia. The old man in front of him laughed.
"Oh Dracule. I am so sorry. I know, how all this paperwork must bore you, but after this we are done."
He kept his eyes on the pages.
"Is something wrong?" The mayor asked.
"When did you stop calling me Mihawk, Sir?"
The grey eyes widened a bit, he did not reply but closed the files.
"I think we are good for today. We talked over the most important topics and the left over can wait for another three months."
The mayor stood up, showing him the door. His secretary was still working in her incomparable speed. Both men shook hands again.
"It was really good to see you again, Dracule. And I'm looking forward to our next meeting."
He nodded politely.
"Do take care, Sir."
Then door closed in front of his nose and what was left were melancholy and memories of more innocent times.
"Mr. Mihawk" He turned around.
"Yes?"
The secretary offered him a piece of paper.
"Mss. Bosatsu had called and asked me to hand over this shopping list to you with the request to get those things."
He read the lines.
"She requested me to do so?"
An unseen smile lightened the strict features of the lady, making her look much younger.
"Well, I do believe it was meant as a respectful request and not as an order."
He shook his head. "By no means. But thank you for the list."
He bid farewell and left the room. When he passed the door of his friend's office, he noticed the missing light. Probably he was already on his way to the marine base of Suzuno. Hopefully he would get those files.
Outside he realized that noon was already gone and the little village had become quite busy. Dutiful he did what the list told him to, including the picking up of ordered goods and buying groceries. Everywhere he went conversation died and eyes followed him suspiciously.
It was true, this island was sheltered by his name, after his father had abandoned it and the navy had reacted to late several time even though a base was not far away. That was why the villagers respected him. But that was something else than accepting, not even talking about gratitude. Some of the elders still remembered his childhood and teenager time. He was not sure, what they thought about him. Maybe disgust and despise, maybe they just wanted to keep their distance because there was not much left he had in common with that boy he once was.
Potentially all the citizens were just awed by his name. After all it had been his great-great-grandfather Dracule Yakumo, who founded this village and protected those five islands. And now this island had become one of the most peacefully, wealthy ones in the whole world. Being close to the Red Line and the Sabaody Archipelago the island had gained power in politics end economy. This heritage was the reason he was involved into many organization objects, although it was mainly because of the mayor that he had not been kicked out of the councilor. Not that he really cared; he did not protect the island because of his heritage, there was nothing more unimportant to him.
Fully packed he went back to the mansion. The boxes rattled, bags hustled, and a bunch of flowers in his hands. Every step away from the village seemed heavier, not because of the things he was carrying, but because his own thoughts started to chase him again. He was mad that the death of some stupid pirate could stir him up that easily.
Cho had been right, he was a pirate, things like that happened and besides that kid had tried to kill him. But something about this boy had fascinated him and at some point he had started to rely on him. He had relied on that insignificant boy out of the East Blue becoming strong enough to take his title one day and carrying it on with the same veneration and bringing it more honors. This title was the last thing left to him and now the boy was dead.
The house was quiet when he entered, nobody greeted him and except for the fire in the living room, which crackled softly, it was peaceful. Through the windows in the kitchen he could see the first orange stripes covering the sky, the twilight would set soon. After he put all the purchase on the kitchen counter and put the necessary things into the fridge, he turned around.
Even though he had not eaten anything yet, he was not really hungry, so he returned to his bureau and continued his work from the morning. It did not surprise him, that the room looked polished. The forgotten breakfast was gone and all documents lay sorted on the table. One window was opened and fresh spring air filled the room. The warm daylight slowly turned into dark, while the pirate did what he had to and led some calls with navy officers. They all seemed emotionally unstable, some had breaking voices. The last night did cause a lot of sorrow for the navy. But for him it was more or less annoying to talk with unfocused people and having to repeat himself several times. This was so unprofessional. For a pirate he really had to do a lot of paper work as he realized once again.
Luckily he was almost done, when his transponder snail started ringing.
Grumbling he answered the call.
"Yes?" He asked coldly.
"Gee! Hawky, it's me. Just wanted to tell you, that I'm on my way to Sasaki. Should be at the city hall right after sunset."
They were silent.
"Do you have the…"
"Just shut up!" He was interrupted impolitely.
"See you tonight."
The rear admiral hung up. With a sigh he covered his tired face with his hands, leaning against his chair. He would learn the truth, at least that he could do. Of course he could not believe what the newspaper said.
This dishonorable behavior they wrote about did not fit the boy he had met that time and he wanted to believe, that the boy died the way he lived. That was the only thing he had left, the only thing that held some importance to him. And he hated himself for letting an insignificant little pirate touch him so deep. But he knew that it had begun long before the boy had died.
After he had defeated him and almost killed him, he had unconsciously started to pay more attention to information about him. Of course he would never have allowed himself something like this and he would never have admitted it. And in the beginning he did not even realize his behavior. Reading the newspaper a little bit more concentrated, asking a little more in his conversation with the navy, bringing the wanted poster to his old friend and cripple to find out more details.
Later he became aware of what he was becoming obsessed with, but it had been too late already. He had started collecting more information. Every time he was at marine base he used his title to get the files, where the reports of soldiers were kept, talking more truth than any article ever could.
But he had always known that those files did not tell the whole truth, because those secret files could only be reached by a few chosen one.
One of them was his childhood friend rear admiral Cho Jiroushin. Under normal circumstances he would never ask him to misuse his position. He was well aware about how important justice was for the blonde and how much he hated to go against orders. But those circumstances where everything else than normal, because the one he relied on, was death.
A knocking at the door made him look up, as the housekeeper entered. She smiled, like she did always, when she got flowers. Like when he used to bring her, when he was a little boy. She did not change much since then. Still full of passion and love. A strong conflict to her outer appearance. The chubby figure dressed with a modern darkblue dress. Covered by her favorite apron in light pink with brown embroideries. The black shoes clicked silent over the ground. Her raven-black hair was tied back in a stiff bun, not one hair lying at a wrong place. Her plump face showed little make-up and as always she was wearing those earrings his mother gave her once upon a time. He would never admit it, but this housekeeper had been something like a mother to him as well.
He turned his eyes back to his documents but she probably had noticed his staring. She carried a small tablet with some coffee.
"I am glad you are still here, my lord." She said softly.
He did not look up, while she poured him a coup.
"I am still awaiting some files. It will be later than expected."
"Of course." She muttered. "Maybe…"
Unwillingly he raised his head at her asking voice.
"Maybe it would be wise to wait with your departure until tomorrow. I could prepare an exquisite breakfast and then…"
"This will not be possible." He interrupted her, continuing to read his papers.
"Of course", she answered low-spirited and went to the door.
"Kanan" She stopped.
"I will leave for the village soon, to receive those files. AfterwardsI will have to pick up my belongings. Because I had no time yet to eat I would highly appreciate to be welcomed by an alible dinner."
Out of the corner of his eye he could see a soft smile crossing her face as she left the room.
Shortly afterwards he followed her downstairs.
The kitchen filled the complete house with the smell of cooking, just as well as the strong singing voice of the housekeeper. Headshaking he left the house.
It was already dark outside. Just a thin yellow-red stripe at the horizon told about the gone by day. Mihawk walked his way apace towards the village. He did not like being on Sasaki. In the best case hours of boredom and dull paperwork would steal his time. In the worst case it was like today; hours of boredom and dull paperwork stole his time, in addition the housekeeper and his friend tried to remind him of older times and on top of that he received that evil tidings, afflicting him more, than he would ever admit. No, he really did not like being on Sasaki.
Caught in thoughts he hurried over the streets, where lanterns and the warmth of restaurants lightened his way. Laughter and charivari filled the air, but never reached his mind as he went straight to the city hall. Not one window was enlightened. Of course all those office workers would not work longer than necessary. When he tried to open the front door, he realized it was locked. Scowling he starred that door down. It seemed like his great friend had more important things to do than meeting him in a surprisingly cold spring night.
"Hawky!"
Calling out for him louder than needed the just named friend ran up to him. The rear admiral stopped slipping, breathing heavily, and both hands on his knees.
"Gee, you are early." He gasped like a student being late for school.
"No, it is just you, who is late." The Shichibukai folded his arms. "Do you have what I came for?"
The green eyes looked up to him, before the suited man rose again, now being on the same eye level as he was. For a second they fought over their gazes, none of them willing to give in.
"Are you really sure, you want to do that?"
The Shichibukai did not even blink.
"Would I have asked you if not?"
Jiroushin sighed deeply, pulling a black bag from his shoulder, but before handing it over he hesitated.
"Mihawk."
It was seldom he used his front name, looking so tense; usually he was smiling like an idiot, always happy, never serious. The black haired one took the free hand of the marine.
"Jiroushin, listen to me. I am aware, that this could lead to your sentence of dismissal. I am aware that you could be penalized for this and I am well aware that it is the worst I could ask from you, even if no one will ever know of this. But I still asked you."
His friend met his view.
"You know, that I would do everything for you. Anything. I just want to know if he was worth it!"
The older one looked away, nodding softly.
"He would have been worthy. He was the only one, who would have been worthy to become my successor. I need to know the truth!"
With a fierce grip Dracule took the bag from his friend.
"I offer you my thanks, Jiroushin. I am indebted to you."
His friend laughed sadly and even though he did not love a good fight as much as the pirate he seemed to understand what moved the other one.
"Yes, remind me of that when my colleagues imprison me. Then I will have to count on you."
He grabbed the other ones forearm.
"And if I have to take down the head quarters."
Both of them smiled, remembering pleasant memories of a time long passed, but still alive in each of them.
"Very well. Then I'll be heading home."
"Send Lirin my regards."
"I will and hopefully it won't take another three months to hear something from you."
He nodded.
"And Hawky." Once again they became quite. "Keep going, hear me?"
Hawk Eyes gave him his second smile of the day. "I will. Next time we meet, make sure to bring Lirin along."
The rear admiral raised his hand in a greeting, going back the way he just came. He disappeared in the darkness, like he was just swallowed by the ocean.
The Shichibukai risked a quick glance into the bag, not able to see anything in the dark. So he threw it over his shoulder and made his way back as well. The people outside, talking, eating at the restaurants paid him no attention and his mind was already reading the files, building up his own thesis about what happened, hoping they were true.
His legs found their way on their own, working so fast that he was almost running. He had already passed the wealthy mansions of the outskirt long ago. In the darkness the forest could feel dangerous again, but for him it was the most peaceful place, calming his thoughts. As always he enjoyed the whispers of the trees, while his feet followed the twisted path.
He paused, as always, when he reached the frame of the glade. But this time everything was different.
There, at the other end of the glade, she was. Half hidden by the shadows of the trees laid a young girl. In the pale light of the almost full moon her skin seemed white and her hair silver. She looked like she was made of porcelain. For a moment, which seemed to last forever, the world stopped moving, he stopped breathing.
Suddenly the grass began to murmur upset, while the trees whispered ill-omened. The bag in his hand rustled indignant. His coat wanted to escape and his hat tried to tear him away. Just that girl was still, like the air was not touching her.
It was almost like back then…
And that thought broke the spell cast over the Shichibukai. Unnerved over this wished hallucination he closed his eyes. But when he opened them again, he realized that the girl was still laying there.
Well, so be it. Each to their own. It was none of his concern and he was no merciful Samaritan. He should just leave. He was not obligated to anyone.
He had already made two steps on his way onwards, but his eyes were still fixed upon that young child over there. It was cold. End even form the distance he could see, that she was wearing no shoes. Uncertain he stood there. What hindered him to go? He had killed dozens of people, no rather hundreds, so why did his conscience call out for him now?
He gritted his teeth. Of all things it had to be here, at this place. Silently cursing at himself he left his path and slowly approached the girl. He stopped in front of her. Even though he was tense, he was quite certain that this was not a trap. In deep thoughts he looked down to the child. Realizing she was not wearing a white little dress, but a far too large man's shirt. The upper buttons were open. Her chest raised and fell slowly; she was alive but obviously not conscious. Shaking his head he bowed down. After hesitating for another heartbeat he picked up the porcelain girl. She was light as a feather. The innocent face rested calmly at his chest. With a sigh he went back on his way, the girl in his arms and the bag over his shoulder.
Minutes later he reached the old mansion. The windows of the kitchen and the dining room were enlightened and even through the door the singing voice of the housekeeper was easy to hear. Circuitously he opened the door with his elbow. Inside he used his foot to shut it.
"You have returned, my lord." He was immediately greeted from the kitchen.
"Thank you for your impressive deduction." He murmured.
"What are you… oh, who is that?"
Surprised she stopped in the door frame of the kitchen, holding a saucepan.
"I have found her in the forest. She is not conscious. I will take her to the guest room. Would you be so kind to examine her of any injuries?"
"Of course," she nodded concerned, "I just turn of the fire and then I will come upstairs. The dinner can wait."
With boots, hat and coat the master of the house walked through the corridor and upstairs. The guest room was adverse of his bureau and of course it was clean and tidy, like the sheets had just been changed this morning. Carefully he put the girl down on the bad, before turning on the small bedside lamp.
Just now he noticed that her long softly curled hair, caressing her petite figure, was not silver, but green, like the grass she had laid on only minutes ago. She really seemed young, but she was not a child anymore. It appeared that she had just crossed the border of becoming a woman. For a moment he was just regarding her, when finally Kanan arrived, looking at the girl as well.
"Where did you find her, Sire? She is almost naked."
"At the glade."
He could feel her eyes on him, but he did not say more so she only nodded.
"It is good, you brought her here. Being outside this night she would have found only death. I will take care of her."
"Fine. I will be working in my bureau." He agreed, leaving the room.
In his office he took out two thick folders of files, but he did not dare to open them. What if they only confirmed what the newspaper had said? He shook his head. No, he owed it to the other one. At least he had to know the truth. Determined he opened the first fastener. The cramped folder burst open. So much truth could not fit into three pages of newspaper.
He had not even able to sort the chaos, when the guard of the home entered. Friable interested he looked up.
"So?"
"She is fine." She said thoughtful.
"But?" He asked further, knowing her worried expression just too well.
"It is strange." He let go of the papers in his hand and watched her, how she held her own arm distressed.
"What did you encounter, Kanan?"
Now she met his view. "This child does not have one injury!"
"And for what reason is that anything to be concerned of? I would judge it as something good."
She shook her head. "No, you do not understand, Sire! She has never been wounded. She has no scars, no scrape, no wrinkle, not even callused skin. She has the soft skin of a baby. I have never seen something like that. Even the shirt, she was wearing, was pearl white, like new, and except for that she was completely naked."
Surprised he followed her words. "How is that possible?"
"I have absolutely no idea. But it is not normal. A girl her age should have at least a pimple."
"How old do you assume is our guest?" He asked without reacting to her words.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Around sixteen?"
It was quiet.
"So what is your plan now, Sire? Will you depart?"
Denying he stood up, piling the folders.
"No, as you know this is not possible. This girl is now my responsibility." He answered plain, taking the folders and leaving the room. The housekeeper followed him.
"You should go to bed," he ordered softly, "I will stay up. I shall call you, when she awakes."
She nodded and disappeared in the deepest of the house.
Sighing he went to the guest room, putting the files at the little desk, and left.
He went downstairs to the kitchen, grabbed some wine and food, and returned.
The room was still quiet, when he came in. So he took the chair from the desk and pulled it next to the bed, leaving enough space. The food and the wine he placed on the night table, before pulling the curtain aside to let some moonlight enter the room.
He threw the folders on the ground next to the chair, but his eyes were caught by the ocean outside, he could see just perfectly from this room. Then he turned around, seating himself. Now he would find the truth. The truth why Roronoa Zoro had died.