Heyho everyone,
so here we go with the next chapter.
Thank you Anana16 and Mizuki hikari for your lovely comments and everybody else for favoring and following. I have to say that we will not meet the other strawhats until chapter 11, but don't worry, our two swordsmen will have enough to quarrel about;-P
See you
Sharry^^
Chapter 8 – Fairy Tale
-Miahwk-
"Faster!" He growled and kicked the other one down.
For the first time since they started training, his disciple was able to brace his fall with both hands and jumped up right away. The girl was breathing heavily, sweat running down the temples. But Roronoa was not complaining. For hours he had been jumping from one leg to the other, crossing the whole room. It looked ridiculous, Mihawk was well aware of that, but he needed to make those lame legs work.
Time and time the other one was too slow. Time and time he punished the youngster for that. Outward he acted unimpressed, almost disappointed. But the secret truth was that he was surprised by the other.
In his strategy he wanted to maltreat the other one, until he would complain unconscious. He wanted to show this newbie, that every day with him would be hell. However he expected the other one not to last longer than about two hours ago. Especially if he considered, the other one had been unable to walk the day before. But time and time the girl got back up. Time and time he corrected the false body position, hard and harsh, and time and time the other one continued. Sweat and blood already dripping down, the chest rising uneven, but Roronoa did not stop.
At some point he realized, that the other one would not give up. He would continue, probably until he collapsed death. That was unsatisfying. For one it was not helpful at all, if the other died while training to survive, and for the other it was not him, pushing the other one's limits.
Meanwhile the youngster started trembling; the face had been straining red but became sickly pale now.
He folded his arms.
"This is it for today. Go, take a shower and change your clothing, you are reeking of sweat."
The other one placed both feet on the ground, knees dangerously soft.
The pirate was breathing harshly, but no noise was passing his shivering lips.
"Do not dare to lose conscience or this may be your first and last lesson."
He turned around, after the other one did not answer but just stare back. Only after he reached the changing room he could hear a soft impact. With a grin he left. The body of his tomboy might be weak, but his will was anything else than ordinary. This was becoming interesting.
-Zoro-
He heard Hawk Eyes' voice from far away, his words hovering through his head, only slowly realizing what the they meant. His body was burning. He could not remember ever feeling so much pain due to simplest training. His unfocused view tried to locate the voice, while black dots were blocking most parts of his visual field, making him half blind. Then he could hear the door close.
His legs gave in and he fell to the ground. Hectic he breathed, but he was hardly gaining enough air. He lay on the ground, staring at the white ceiling. His view became slowly clearer, while blood transported needed oxygen in his body.
Dracule's words still filled his head. Showed him all his mistakes and weaknesses. It was true; most of those mistakes were not caused by this body, but by his fighting attitude.
But still you are unable to defeat him.
He felt so cold, while the blood rushed through his shaking body. Of course those silly tiffs with Dartbrow were nothing close to a real fight. But it shocked him, that this stupid lovecook should be more than equal to him, just because he was too slow.
He had always believed that in the end he would be the better warrior, the final victor in real duel. Slowly a grin crossed his face. He had a new goal. He had to overcome the blonde, only then he could overcome his own deficits.
Clumsily he turned on his stomach. His body hurt everywhere and every movement took all his strength. The small boobs pressed against his ribcage, making it even harder to breathe.
Slowly he was able to get back up, taking small, uneven steps into the changing room. As expected Hawk Eyes had left already. He secretly hoped that he had been able to impress him in any way. He did not want to be any more disappointing, after the Shichibukai spared his life. He wanted to prove, that it was the right decision, that he was no waste of time.
With trembling fingers he loosened his hair, just to put it back together, before taking of his clothes in careful motions and crawling to the showers.
The warm water was good, beating his shivering muscles gently. He simply leaned against the wall and watched the drops gliding down his unfamiliar soft skin. The next four weeks would be hell. But, and that thought made him actually quite happy, he could go further, could become better than he was right now. Since Thriller Bark he was eaten by the untamed craving to become stronger, but felt like he had not been moving forward and now he knew, that he had been stuck literally.
If he were in his own body, he would be glowing of excitement, but then he would probably have never degraded himself to ask the greatest swordsman in the world for help.
It took him ages to go back to the changing room and to put on some clothes. He was so tired, he did not even care about the black dress, he was putting on, just grateful for its soft, weightless fabric. It was really difficult to close those small sandals with his trembling fingers and afterwards he just sat there and calmed his breath.
Determined he followed the Shichubukai's shadow.
Who should be found in the kitchen, talking almost angrily with Kanan. Before Zoro even reached the door, he could hear her loud and his deep voice, discussing himself as a topic.
"She is a child! Your methods are too harsh on her!" The former nanny hissed frantic.
"My guest is neither a child nor wants to be treated like one. This person came to me, asked for my aid. If my way is too harsh than this pupil is not worthy of mine."
The master of the house seemed annoyed, his voice was clear but something dangerous within. Like the housekeeper's demand was highly inadequate in his opinion, even more speaking freely in front of him. But this woman was not done yet.
"Your anger over the death of that pirate clouds your perception. You vent your wrath on her, Sire. This is no proper behavior for a gentleman. She is a good person but you treat her like a criminal!"
Slowly the Shichibukai seemed to become furious.
"Like a criminal? I took this stranger in. I took over the responsibility, completely. I treat each living being like it deserves it. This child is no lady, but a swordfighter. This is none of your business and you should not interfere any further!"
Angrily a hand was smashed at the table.
"I shall very much! Every time you are close to this girl, she ends up crying. What did she do to deserve your anger? On the other hand you shelter her, like she is your possession. I hardly understand your motions. Ever since Sharak's and Taruchie's death I have not seen you as upset as the last days."
"Enough!" The voice of the Shichibkuai was more threatening than Zoro had ever heard it before. "You are pushing your limits! I do not want to hear any more of this. Do not doubt my decisions."
The pirate opened the door, when the Shichibukai ran almost against him. For another time he could feel this burning anger of the other one against his own person, as those yellow eyes starred down at him scornful. Then Hawk Eyes rushed behind him, upstairs.
"We are done for today!" Loudly the door to his bureau was slammed shut.
His eyes followed Dracule. It really seemed like the older one did hate him for disgracing both of them. He clenched his fists, but was already feeling the unwanted warm arms of the housekeeper.
"Are you alright, my child?" He simply nodded.
She could not understand, what moved Hawk Eyes. She thought he was upset over Zoro's death. He on the other hand knew exactly that Dracule was mad over his shaming weakness, over him bringing dishonor. He could understand him. He was well aware, that he deserved the other one's behavior and so he would not complain. The only possibility he had was to become stronger. Stronger to regain his honor. That was his only way.
"He's right." He whispered. "Don't be mad at him. I really don't want to be treated like a child or a lady."
The tall woman looked at him concerned.
"I just do not want to see you hurt."
He smiled weakly.
"It would hurt my pride, if he would not train me serious. It's okay like this. I want to become stronger."
Kanan nodded.
"If it is like this, I will accept it of course. But it is painful to watch you getting hurt. So come on. You need something good to eat and afterwards we will take care of your hair."
-Mihawk-
He closed the file with a big sigh. The letters became blurry in the fading twilight, but in his anger not so long ago, he had forgotten to turn the light on and now he was too lazy to get up. This Kanan knew him just too well. He did not like, how much she knew about him and how much right she gave herself to mettle in his business.
Secretly he was also worried about her. Her affection towards the cursed pirate could only lead to sorrow and deep inside he did not want to cause her more grief. After all she and Jirou were the only good things left of his childhood. Maybe he was also a little bit jealous of her caring so much for Roronoa, a person she did not know anything about.
He on the other side, had been quite harsh against the other one today, he was aware of that. Maybe he should… oh what was all this about? It was that pirate's fault.
Not again! Again his thoughts were hunted by that youngster. Since he arrived here, he was lingering in his mind day and night, like there was nothing else important for him to care about. What had he taken into this house?
Unsatisfied with himself he got up and left the room. It was already useless now to worry over paperwork. To his surprise the kitchen was dark and empty. Neither Kanan nor his guest were there. But the last one he found at least in the living room. The big light was turned on, shutting out the darkness of the night outside. His tomboy, in his little black dress, lay on the couch and had not noticed him yet. The child had placed a book on the armrest and seemed to read highly concentrated, his crossed shanks were bent and rocked rhythmless up and down. The loose hair spread like a lake over girl and sofa. It was such an innocent picture; it was hard to imagine that this child was the demon of the East Blue.
"You are reading?"
In slow movements he made his way behind the sofa and leaned against the old chimney. The green eyes looked up. Anew he realized how mature and wise they already seemed.
"Obviously." Then the other one continued reading.
"Quite rude." He teased him, but the boy just bit his lip and locked his view on the pages in front of him.
"What? Are you still mad over me pushing your limits? Or are you mad over me not treating you like a little lady?"
The other one was not reading any more, but still stared at his book. Why was he not fighting back? The evening before Roronoa would have screamed at him, or laughed. Mihawk had not been that mean to him, had he?
"What is wrong? No nasty reply? No degrading comment? Do not say, I already tamed the beast?"
"I got it, okay?" The other one said roughly without looking up. Slowly Mihawk folded his arms. It seemed he was missing some parts here.
"What did you get?"
The green head's eyes wandered through the room, not looking at him, his young face turned into a cold mask.
"Fine, if you wanna hear me saying it. I know, you want to scold me for my weakness, for my shamefully behavior." Surprised he looked at the other one. What was he talking about? But he continued.
"I can accept that. Be mad at me, be angry. I can endure that and I will retrieve your respect."
"My, what a naïve child you are!" He could not stop his laughter while the other one looked up confused.
"It is not all about you, Roronoa."
It was almost cute to see the other one like this. Defeated. He really thought that he knew him. But he did not understand anything at all.
"I accepted you request. I am neither mad nor angry. Unnecessary feelings are hindrances in combat and in training."
His tomboy looked away again, blushing.
"You are indeed a child." He grinned evil and went back to his familiar armchair. When he passed the other one, he let his hand brush swiftly over his hair. Immediately the other one sat up and slapped his fingers away. His movements were surprisingly fluent and quick. It seemed he was able to integrate what he learned in training into his daily life, interesting.
"Apparently you are not as exhausted from training as I expected."
"I recover quickly." The green head murmured.
"Very well, so we can continue tomorrow with the real training. I do not want to bore you, do I?"
The pirate met his view, unimpressed, pulling the little book to his lap.
"Fine with me." He growled and continued reading.
His behavior was confusing Mihawk. Not only did he pay almost no intention towards him, no additionally the pirate seemed to be more interested in one insignificant book than in him. Mihawk did not think of the other one as a man of vast reading.
"What are you reading?" He finally asked, after the pirate continued to ignore him. Was this his revenge for Mihawk teasing him?
"This." The other one murmured and lifted the book shortly without interrupting his reading.
Caught in unbelief he starred at that book. Was the other one making fun of him? It was the book, the pirate wanted to read while he was drunk.
"Excuse me?" He asked angrily.
"Didn't you say I should not only train my body? Well, here I am reading a book I have never read before. Aren't ya happy?"
Jerkily he leaned forward and pushed the book down, so the other one had to meet his view.
"You can read this?"
Mad the pirate slammed his hand away.
"I'm not as stupid as you think. Just because I'm not the child of rich parents doesn't mean I cannot read. Yesterday you weren't surprised."
He wanted to interrupt the other one, but he just continued talking. "My mother taught me a lot while I was young and of course she told me the famous stories of Hakuryuu. Like every child of the East Blue."
Now Mihawk was more than confused.
"Hakuryuu?"
It was scary, the way the girl started to smile, almost dreamily.
"Sure. Because of his tales I wanted to become a swordsman when I was still a little boy. You got all those great books here and never read them? And you're calling yourself a true swordsman?"
Seriously he grabbed the small wrist.
"You're able to read this?!"
Finally the other one seemed to realize the true meaning behind his words.
"You can't?"
"Of course not. No one can. The probably last three people were scientist from Ohara. But as you might know from Nico Robin, Ohara is long gone."
Unbelieving the green haired one stared at the book in his lab.
"How do you know this language?" Roronoa looked up again, not saying a word.
"Did your mother teach you?" He nodded slowly.
"You can speak this language?" Again he nodded.
"Amazing." Miahwk sat back down, folded his arms and observed the other one thoughtful. What had he taken into this house?
"I thought you are from the East Blue."
"I am." He looked away for a moment.
"But you were not born there, were you?" The pirate shrugged his shoulders.
"How am I supposed to know that, I was a baby?" He answered annoyed. "Doesn't matter."
"It does!" He disagreed silent, but without any anger. "Are you not aware that you might be the last human, who is capable of reading those books?"
Roronoa laughed softly.
"What are you talking about? My mom spoke this language. There will be many more, who talk it."
He shook his head.
"Do you even know the name of this language?"
Once again the other shrugged his shoulders.
"It was the language of my mom. She told me all those tales about the old heroes and about the swordsman Hakuryuu. That's all I know and all I cared for."
For a heartbeat they looked at each other.
"You are indeed a strange man. You are not even aware of the heritage you carry."
The other one shook his head, his forehead furrowed in deep thoughts.
"You mean to tell me that nobody knows of those stories?" He asked, pointing at the book in his lap.
He laughed. "And you are indeed slow on the uptake."
The green eyes regarded the anfractuous symbols like he was seeing them for the first time. Then he smiled softly.
"What is it?"
The youngster looked at him, shaking his head, but the smile stayed, he seemed happy.
After a second Mihawk got up and left the room in deep thoughts. Could it be a coincidence? A child of a warriorfolk? It would be well fitting, he had to admit.
When he returned with wine and glasses, the other one was already reading again. But he looked up, when Mihawk sat back down.
"Why do you have books, nobody can read?"
Now it was Mihawk, shrugging his shoulders, while filling their glasses.
"My father collected them on one of his many journeys. He said they were worth a fortune."
The green head nodded simply.
"And you do know those stories?"
"Barely. They are actually less tales, but teachings about the art of the sword. But my mom was no fighter; she hardly knew the basics, so she told me mainly the tale about Hakuryuu's life and about the other heroes."
"Tell me about it. Tell me about your hero."
The other one looked confused. "What hero?"
"Well, Hakuryuu or what his name was. The hero, who made you become a swordsman."
Roronoa shook his head. "Hakuryuu was no hero, like the others. He was the first true swordsman."
Slightly annoyed Mihawk took a sip of his wine.
"How am I supposed to know? Start talking!"
-Zoro-
He was confused. All those things.
This morning he learned where his friends were. Then the confrontation with his new teacher. The training had been almost too much for him and now he might had learned something about himself, about his past, he never knew anything about. Maybe his mother was less of a heartless beast, he thought of her.
Who would have thought, things could turn out like this?
"So, shall we begin?" The Shichibukai asked annoyed.
"I'm no good in telling stories."
The black haired sighed.
"Just start. If you bore me, I will tell you so."
Zoro grinned. "Only someone, who doesn't know Hakuryuu, could say something like that."
Slowly he took his glass, slewing it slightly, wiping a strand of hair behind his ear.
"My mother always began the story like this: Many centuries ago a wise and strong king ruled over the kingdom Alciel. Like his father before him and whose father before he lead his people with devotion and ironlike will. Over the generations the sons and daughters Alciel's grew to strong warriors, respected but also scarred by the whole world. A status none of the warriors disliked."
"So what about your anti-hero?" He was interrupted by a bored voice. "This tale about a warriorfolk is well-known. In this version or another, they are all the same."
"Might be. I only know this version."
Annoyed he drank his wine.
"Okay, just shut up now and listen."
The other nodded, raising an eyebrow.
"The king and his best warriors brought honor and glory to their folk over the years. But as time was passing by he had to realize, that he was no worthy leader of his people, for he could not give, what his people needed the most. An heir. While the king grew slowly older, the warrior became worried, because who else could lead their folk, if not one of royal blood?"
"But fate made it possible for the king to become a father, just in another way. In countless battles his people fought, among others a young woman died. Time has forgotten her name, so she was called Ni, meaning mother. The king heard that she left behind an infant. Nobody knew who the father could be, so the king decided to take the boy in as his own, to honor the sacrifice of Ni. He named the boy Hakuryuu in memory of the dragon."
"What dragon?" The other one asked.
"The dragon Hakuryuu. Legend says he molded the folk Alciels out of his own scales. The young prince developed splendid and his name was heard with pride by the other soldiers. But after a while euphoria about the new heir crumbled, turning into concern. After all Hakuryuu was not of royal blood. How could they know, if he was worthy of being their king?"
"Because blood is all that matters, is it?"
"One more time or so help me, I will stuff this book into your muzzle! Okay where was I? Yeah. The King was told by his most loyal friends and fellow warriors about the folk worrying and so they decided to find a solution, to make the prince worthy of being the heir. With a heavy heart the king called his son to him and explained him, why he had to prove himself. He asked his son, if he wanted to become king in the first place. After his son agreed honored, he was given his task."
"To become a worthy warrior, it was custom in Alciel, to take one of the thirteen ways. Those are thirteen different teachings in the art of fighting. Each more dangerously and more difficult than the other, but each of them was already enough to train a great warrior, who was capable to use almost any weapon. Only children of royal blood were allowed to take the thirteenth path, which needed especially a high degree of patience and endurance. But for Hakuryuu not being of royal blood, he had to prove even more how worthy he was. So it was decided that he should not only take one, but all thirteen ways to become the one perfect warrior. Only when he fulfilled all of those, the folk would acknowledge him as their new king. The young prince traveled to the wise men, to learn their art of fighting."
"The years went by and the king grew old. One day his chosen son returned, now a grown man. He carried the holy sword, forged out of the fang of the dragon. The weapon of a hero and the proof that his son did not only master all thirteen ways but also fulfill all thirteen heroic quests, his mentors demanded him to do. Proud and more than gratefully about his son's success the king crowned his son."
"The people celebrated their new hero, who should lead them into a new age. But soon Hakuryuu had to realize that he was indeed the greatest warrior in the world, but he should never have become king. There was no fight, he would not win. Now war, he would not conquer. In battle he was a God, but carrying the crown made him loose his mind. The folk, who loved him, could not reach him. He saw them, but all he saw, were people unlike him. Even his own father could not touch him. They were warrior, yes. But he, he was a swordsman. A servant of the dragon. Being a king he could not dull his craving for a fight."
"Hakuryuu became desperate under the burden of the crown, so it came that one night he took his sword and killed his father. Afterwards he wrapped his sword in the bloody coat of his father and left Alciel for good. Without a king and filled with leadless warriors the kingdom fell within short years. Other peoples decided to join an alliance to destroy any descendant left of Alciel. So the dragon's blood would be extinguished forever."
"The hero Hakuryuu became the traitor of his own folk."
"But nobody found Hakuryuu, who traveled through the world, searching for worthy humans. Over time he found thirteen disciples. Each of them he learned all twelve paths, but never the last one.
When he was of high age and tired of life, he demanded his pupils to bring him the best farrier in the world. He came and Hakuryuu asked him to take his hero sword and forge twelve swords out of it. The biggest and strongest one he gave his oldest disciple. At the end waited the youngest one. Except for him, all the other pupils were sent into the world, to teach the art of the sword. The youngest was angered, because his master did not think of him to be worthy enough to receive a sword or to become a teacher. But Hakuryuu took his last student with him to a secret place, where he taught him the thirteenth way. Only then the youngest pupil realized that it was not the weapon, but the fighter who mattered."
"Hakuryuu died and the world forgot about him and the kingdom Alciel. The twelve disciples with their swords, forged out of the hero swords, made history as the twelve first swordsmen. The youngest on the other side tried to give on the heritage of his mentor. But he could not find anyone to be worthy. Restless he traveled the world, while all of his comrades fell one by one during battles and their twelve swords were scattered all over the world. After time he was the last of all thirteen disciples, but he could still not find a worthy successor. So one day he sat down at the roof of the world and wrote everything down he was taught by his mentor. He wrote about the thirteen ways of fighting and he wrote about his master's battles. He wrote about his mentor's heroic quests and about the kingdom Alciel. After thirteen years and ten days he was done and came back down on earth. But the world had forgotten and so the youngest disciple died without time ever knowing his name.
This was the myth of swordsman Hakuryuu."
-Mihawk-
For a long time they were quiet, gazing at the little book in the pirate's lap.
"A good story." He murmured finally. "And it is written down in this book?"
The green eyes looked at him, nodding swiftly. In a fluent motion the girl got up and went over to the shelf.
"Your father was right, those books are valuable. The first book is only about the history of Alciel and Hakuryuu, but those other books are the key." The other one sounded awestruck.
"What do you mean by that? I thought it was only a fairy tale."
The green head laughed softly.
"I don't know, what's true about it or if Hakuryuu really existed, but I know that those are the books, the youngest disciple wrote down. They have to be it!"
Roronoa turned around, his hair filled with energy.
"In those books are the very first teachings of the sword written down! Everything we have been taught nowadays goes back to what is written in those books. The story about Hakuryuu might be fiction, but somebody took the time, to write it all down."
The girl's cheeks blushed slightly, the eyes big and filled with life.
Slowly he rose as well and made his way to the other one. Finally he was standing directly in front of the girl, observing the anfractuous symbols of the books in the shelf, which he could not read. He could almost see how the parts of the puzzle came together.
Then he looked down at the pirate, who met his view effortless.
What had he taken into this house?
Suddenly the door was burst open.
"Oh, there the both of you are. I was already worried."
The green haired one faced the housekeeper, but he did not even notice her. He still watched the girl. He did not know why Roronoa Zoro was here or how he made it to this place, but right now he was glad. Never before he had sensed this fire by another person. It was more than the love to fight. He had found this one person in the whole world, who was worthy of taking his title.
"Listen!" The girl looked up. "I expect you in the training room tomorrow at sunrise. We have no time to lose."
Grinning widely his tomboy nodded.
He would train him and he would be proud of him!
