Disclaimer: One Piece is the property of Eiichiro Oda. Many of the characters in this story are property of me. Do not use this story or its characters without my permission. Thank you.

"ORA!" Bard shouted as his fists moved furiously.

"HH-RAHH!!" Dean shouted back.

The blows were exchanged between them at speeds untraceable. Their arms and hands turned to blurry movements as they crossed and countered with the force of two runaway trains plowing through a mountainside. Neither one had a definite advantage as of yet. Bard was taking plenty of hits, but Dean was still weak from Bard's Soru kick. The hooks and crosses wouldn't stop and neither would take the mindfulness to block.

They both snapped their legs and pushed away from their conflict to catch their respective breath. Dean eyed the young man down to try and find some physical obviousness that he could exploit, like a bruise or an apparent fracture. This man didn't even look winded to him. Bard was breathing, surely, but not as hard as Dean was.

Suddenly, Bard disappeared. A puff of smoke replaced him, which quickly dissipated in the dying rain. Dean stopped breathing for a second and raised himself up. His head darted around, trying to follow his still untouched eyes, looking for a hint of his opponent. The fatigue he had worked up from the fight and staying standing was catching g up to him, as his mind continued to repeat the image of that puff of smoke no matter where he looked.

"You little bastard," he growled angrily, now spinning slightly in place. "Where are you!?" Dean shouted into the sky. The rain continued to splash in the puddles and off the metal roofs. A rumble of distant thunder was heard as Dean started punching down the walls of nearby houses. "WHERE ARE YOU!?"

Bard was at least two blocks away, standing in the middle of the street with one knee on the ground and on hand ready to push forward. He breathed out calmly and looked up. The distance wasn't that hard to cross the first time, so a subsequent dashing attack shouldn't be to hard. That was the theory, at least.

"If I miss," Bard mused quietly, "I don't get another chance…" He took an extra second to aim and wait for the perfect moment to move out and strike. Dean was still dancing around madly and flailing his arms, obviously a little damaged in the head from the rampant beating he had taken, in the distance. Bard kept calculating and calculating his trajectory and his power so he wouldn't miss, until Dean finally turned at him.

"Soru!" Bard blazed forward, almost invisibly, at an aware and screaming Dean. Their eyes where both white and their brows were both furrowed. Both men looked the same, but one was about to get hurt severely. Bard had his arm back and ready to hook, where as Dean, in his rage, pulled out a metal pipe from the torn-asunder wall of a nearby shanty. Bard saw the weapon, aimed dangerously at his stomach, and veered himself away at the last moment. Dean thought he had won, he thought he had avoided Bard's attack. Bard thought so too, but he refused to give up. Just before Bard was completely past his opponent, he extended his arm back and grabbed Dean with a tensed palm to his face.

"H-rmph!" was all Dean could grunt out before his body started screaming through the air with Bard. The buildings became hazy blurs and the rain pelted hard against Dean's exposed head. The pair started slowing down, which Dean took as an opportunity to try and disable Bard further by grabbing his extended arm and firmly planting his feet into the wooden street. The wood splintered violently beneath him as both men went tearing in tandem down the street in a blur.

Bard's feet, along with his whole body, were parallel to the ground, which was closing in on him and the ever more wounded Dean. The raindrops became like daggers as they sped along, with Bard kicking his legs to increase his speed. The end of the artificial island turf was nearly ended, and Bard prepared for his next step, which he just thought of. There were at least twenty ships directly in front of Bard, which meant that Bard would have to apologize to at least twenty pirate crews.

Bard raised Dean up and floated along for the last few meters and held him out as a shield. Then Dean's mind went blank as his head collided with the first of many main masts that were in the way. The wooden column was blown apart at the bottom and the two slowed down. Bard planted his feet and grabbed Dean's ruptured cage armor with his free hand and pressed hard in the direction of the next mast, plowing through both outer hulls of the ship he was on and the next.

This continued up until nearly the last ship, when Dean regained consciousness and proceeded to disable Bard with a swift, if underhanded, kick. Bard coughed and stopped his relentless offense to curl up and roll to the edge of the last ship dock in the harbor. Dean was barely alive as it was, but he still stood up and prepared himself to continue the fight. Something, however, plagued his mind, and he couldn't concentrate on keeping his blood and bones inside his body until he could get it out.

"Why, child?" Dean asked the still writhing Bard. "Why are you a pirate?" Bard perked himself up and jumped to his feet, seemingly over the pain.

"Because if I stayed a Marine, I wouldn't have near as many adventures!" Bard said excitedly as he caught his breath. "Plus," he continued, preparing himself to fight once again, "if you're a pirate you can fight with anyone and not get punished for it!"

"So, you want to become a strong man?" Dean asked as his breathing steadied. Bard caught his breath and positioned himself at the edge of the not-yet torn apart galleon.

"No, I'm already the strongest!" Bard declared triumphantly. He kicked furiously and vanished in an instant coming eye to eye with Dean. "I just have to prove it now!" The unwavered Dean received a swift and stern punch to the face and started drifting through the air yet again. Another sharp blow from behind changed his direction toward the mast, and a barely audible utterance of 'Soru' made his world go black yet again. Bard sailed through the air with the unconscious, bloody man in his hand and looked down at the swashing waters below. His hand went limp, releasing the heavy parcel of a man into the murky ocean as Bard's body gave out as well.

Dean sank down through the waters, his mind reflecting back to the old days when he had the same reckless ambition and tenacity as Bard. His childhood as the son of a great policeman, his first day on the force, his first major failure and horrible consequences of it. The demotion, the re-instatement, the title of Warden that he was honorably charged and discharged with; the first bounty head he caught, and now his life seemed to be over. It was a hollow feeling that seemed to overwhelm his paralyzed body as he sank, ironic in that his hollowness was forcing him even deeper to his death.

The last feeling that overcame the man was the chilling haze of the frigid wind and the warm grasp of someone's hand.

"You're way to cool to die here, old man!" Bard said as he hauled his opponent onto his back and proceeded to swim toward the docks. Bard was smiling widely and peddling hard, ecstatic over his own victory. "I know! I'll jump to the docks!" Bard prepped his legs and aimed himself up, tightening his grip on his limp opponent. "Soru!" Bard's unmeasured power made his Soru in the water become a 'Geppou' high into the sky. Bard's face became deadpan and his mouth widened across his jaw as he and the heavy Dean started slowly floating through the air.

"Get those cannons loaded!" a bounty hunter yelled. The inner hull of the evil warship was rousing with activity and motion. Bounty hunters scurrying about like rats, carrying heavy cannonballs and harpoons to be fired at the hapless little shantytown. One bounty hunter was staggering with the weight of a single cannon ball dragging on the floor. As the other hunters moved up to the next level of the ship, the weakling was just reaching an unloaded cannon.

"Oh please," the hunter whined, "no one help me!" He pushed the ball up along the side of the cannon with all his back and legs yet still struggled hopelessly. "I got this all on my own!" He shouted through gritted teeth. Suddenly, the weight dropped from the ball and he watched as a helpful hand slipped it into the cannon. The hunter slumped down and sighed with relief. "Oh, thanks man. I appreciate it." He turned around. A dagger sank quickly into his back.

"No problem, guy" Zan said smoothly as he let his victim's body fall limp to the floor. You're kidding he thought. He was analyzing the routine and organization, as well as the mechanics of the warship and its cannons since he boarded on the sub-basement level. Each cannon seemed to be operated by a remote detonator that was, mostly likely, held by the captain or commanding officer. This is an insult to my skills Zan continued as he turned the cannons upside-down and pointed them at the floor, as he had done below.

Such lackluster guarding and ridiculous order…what a farce of an attack. Once he was finished overturning every cannon on the floor, Zan proceeded to phase up through the ceiling and onto the next floor of the multi-layered ship. The bounty hunters were still rushing about, prepping weapons and cannons for the main assault as the ship started to slow itself down and raise its sails. Zan had gone unnoticed so far, and his lucky streak just might continue all the way until his mission was finished. Zan whispered a battle prayer to himself before phasing completely upward.

"Killing time!"