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==Chapter 25==
He had finally done it. At the tender age of eighteen, Juraquille Mihawk had finally earned the title of the world's greatest swordsman. It hadn't been easy, but, hey, when you got it in your head to devote your whole life to challenging Seidou Rackham, a subordinate of Gold Roger himself, did you really expect the finale to be a cakewalk?
After the battle, his body had been left in such bad condition that it was only through the most cutting-edge medical technology at the time (and months of bed rest) that he had managed to live at all. Apparently, Seidou was not at all a sore loser, and had asked the crew of the Jolly Roger Pirates to heal both of them after the battle. The pain that Mihawk was feeling all over his body by the end of the match (before he passed out) was nothing compared to the pain of having won, but still owing his life to his opponent.
Seidou, watching the young swordsman get up from his bed, grinned. "Leaving us so soon?"
Mihawk did not care to grace the taunt with a response, but grinned in turn.
"Y'know, if I really wanted you dead, I'd have lopped your head clean off the second we faced each other."
Mihawk rolled his eyes. Everybody from the villagers in his hometown to his fellow crew members said that he was way too serious for a boy of his age, but the way he saw it, the rest of the world was simply too carefree for him. Even the captain of his crew often teased him about scaring children and small animals away just by glaring at them.
"Where's Shuusui?" the young swordsman suddenly asked. The black blade had been his most trusted ally in his brief tenure as a pirate, and the very sword with which he beat Seidou.
Seidou reached onto a shelf and handed Mihawk the sword none too carefully. Mihawk threw a dirty look at the Jolly Roger pirate, who simply grinned some more.
"Don't give me that look! Considering the state that that things in, wouldn't it be smarter to sell it? Once word gets around of your new title, of course."
Mihawk was about to glare some more, but both swordsmen were suddenly interrupted by a bespectacled black-haired man bursting into the sick bay. His phyical appearance may have been wholly unimpressive, but Mihawk and Seidou paid attention to him. After all, when Silvers Rayleigh, the first mate of Gold Roger himself, injected himself into a conversation, it'd be in your best interest to listen.
"Yeah?"
"Emergency meeting. Dining room. NOW."
Rayleigh's tone made it clear that the meeting would involve Seidou, whether he liked it or not. Grumbling a bit, the blond pirate followed Rayleigh out of the sick bay. Mihawk, feeling that he had nothing better to do (it wasn't really in his spirit to just go out and brag; word of his accomplishment would get around fast enough without him), followed.
Rayleigh turned his head once or twice and peered at the young pirate, but made no comment. When the finally walked into the dining room of the Oro Jackson, even Mihawk had to whistle; it seemed bigger than his own captain's entire ship. An enormous table could be seen, on its side and placed against the wall (why it didn't capsize the ship was anyone's guess). The chairs were nowhere in sight.
Forming a circle around the room were the rest of Roger's crew (some of them clearly drunk off their asses and having been dragged into the meeting against their will). There was the charming gunner Peggy Read, the grouchy cook Samuel Newport, the always bickering cabin boys Buggy and Shanks, and a whole lot of other people that he couldn't be bothered to remember.
In the center of it all, however, was the most famous of them: the Pirate King himself, Gold Roger. The sheer power that radiated off of him would probably have blown lesser men and women across the Grand Line. Only when the young swordsman get closer did he realize that Roger was wearing a confused expression that nobody would have associated with him in a hundred years.
"Hello," he said, but without any of the booming confidence that Mihawk had heard from him when the two first men. The difference in tone was, to say the least, jarring. "Can the two of you tell me where I am?"
Mihawk blinked in confusion and simply stared at Roger for a few moments. Looking deep into the Pirate King's eyes, Mihawk realized that instead of confidence and fearlessness, there was only confusion and... fear?
"Some of you," Rayleigh said, snapping Mihawk out of his silent analysis. "May be unaware of how this state of affairs came to be, or even what's going on. To make a long story short, our beloved captain Roger-san has experienced memory loss."
A flurry of confused murmurs broke out amongst the Jolly Roger pirates. The most powerful man in the word losing his memory? Surely, it cannot be!
Rayleigh waited until the chatter began to die down before clearing his throat and continuing. "Naturally, with Vice-Admiral Garp pursuing us and whatnot, it's imperative that we restore his memory as soon as possible. Suggestions?"
"Wait a minute," Peggy stated, raising her hand. "How'd this happen in the first place?"
"That's not important right now," Rayleigh replied, though Mihawk couldn't help but notice that his averted eye contact when he said it. "What's important is curing it."
"Just go out and say it," Newport stated. "He got beaned in the head with a coconut."
Nearly every pirate's face arranged itself into a "you have got to be kidding" expression. The almighty Gold Roger, rendered helpless by a coconut?
"I've got a suggestion!" a tall, thin man with brown hair said, raising his hand high. "How's 'bout Peggy kissing him? If that doesn't jostle his brain, then he can't call himself a man!"
Peggy responded with a furiously blushing face and a "How 'bout you kiss him, jackass?!" Before anyone else could say anything, the sole female member of the Jolly Roger pirates pushed him right toward Roger, and you can probably guess what happened next...
SMOOCH!
There was a sound like a plunger being pulled out of a toilet, and the brown-haired man recoiled in disgust, placing as much distance between himself and Roger as possible. Roger, for his part, simply looked confused.
"Yuck! Gross! Peggy, that was low, even for you!"
"You started it, you-"
THWACK! WHAM!
"So," Rayleigh continued, ignoring the other Jolly Roger pirates' horrified looks at the sight of Peggy and the brown-haired man's unconscious bodies. "Any other suggestions?"
Shanks and Buggy, who had been the entire time muttering in a corner, entirely unnoticed by the Roger Pirates, emerged from the throng, much to the surprise of most of them.
"Yes?" Rayleigh said, a hint of surprise on his face.
"Well, me and Buggy were thinking..."
"The captain's always had a thing for booze..."
"So, why not..."
"Have him drink 'til he can remember?"
"That's your brilliant suggestion?!" Newport interjected with an incredulous look on his face. "Whoever heard of alcohol jogging memories?"
"Why not?" Seidou suddenly spoke up, startling Mihawk. "Unless anyone else has got a suggestion?"
The crowd around them shuffled their feet and began muttering again, but it was clear that none of them had anything better to suggest. Seeing nobody to counter his statement, Seidou grinned (perhaps a little more gleefully than he should have) and ran right out the door. Shanks and Buggy followed him.
Rayleigh crossed his arms and began muttering something about youngsters these days "having nothing to do besides getting drunk off their asses."
Ten minutes later, Seidou burst back into the dining room, Shanks and Buggy in tow. All three were carrying either crates or barrels, and Mihawk didn't need to ask to know what was in them.
Neither Shanks nor Buggy had mentioned a party, but within five minutes, one was in full swing. Mihawk sighed and pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. He had no love for alcohol to begin with, and he certainly wasn't going to stick around if he didn't want to wake up with a headache in the morning. The young swordsman turned to leave the dining room, but not before hearing a snippet of Seidou and Peggy's conversation.
"Seidou, what are you doing with that? You know that's the captain's private ale!"
"Keep yer nose outta this! I've been wanting to taste this for months!"
Mihawk contemplated alerting Rayleigh to this, but to do that, he had to find the bespectacled man first. He didn't have to look very hard - he found Rayleigh in a corner of the room, handing a bottle to the memory-deprived Roger. Not surprisingly, he and Newport were the only ones who seemed to remember Roger's condition.
Roger pressed the bottle to his lips and took several long gulps before swallowing. When he opened his eyes again, it was obvious that nothing had happened.
Rayleigh sighed and handed him another, slightly larger, bottle. Roger obediently drank this one too, but to apparently no better result. The first mate clapped a hand to his forehead and led Newport away, evidently to discuss another method. Roger, for his part, stood in the corner, as if awaiting instructions about what to do next.
His mind made up, the young swordsman began to take several steps toward Rayleigh, but before he could get within speaking range, sensed something hurtling toward him. Instinctively, he ducked, and his sharp eyes caught the sight of a wooden mug flying over his head...
... and toward a large, muscular pirate, who was juggling barrels as entertainment.
Mihawk covered his eyes. This could not end well.
CRASH!
"Oof!"
"Roger-san! Look ou-"
WHAM!!!
Mihawk opened a tiny gap between his index finger and middle finger, just wide enough to make out what had happened: Roger, the Pirate King and the strongest man in the world, had just been beaned by a wooden barrel, and not a very large one at that.
"Roger-san!"
"Are you alright?!"
"This is all your fault!"
"Me?!"
"You're the one who was juggling the barrels!"
"How 'bout you?! You threw that mug!"
"Uuuuuugghhh....."
"Roger-san!"
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"... does this mean I'm captain now?"
Roger, holding his temple, steadily got up. When the Pirate King finally opened his eyes, a chill ran through everybody in the room, including Mihawk. The fearless gleam in his eyes had returned.
"... what's are you all doing? You've started a party without me?! I oughta maroon all of you for this!"
Mihawk could discern a hint of jest in his booming voice, but he still sounded pretty convincing. His crewmates, however, were obviously used to him sounding like this, and thusly ran up to him, embracing him as if he had just recovered from a life-threatening injury.
"Roger-san!"
"You're back!"
"Back? Where'd I go?"
Somewhere behind him, Mihawk could hear Seidou cursing under his breath, saying something along the lines of "And he just had to wake up just when I was about to drink his ale..."
Either Roger had extremely sharp ears, or he just made a lucky move, because at that very moment, he suddenly locked eyes with Seidou. More precisely, what he was holding.
"SEIDOU!" he thundered, letting off a burst of Haki that nearly made Mihawk faint. "WHAT THE $#& ARE YOU DOING WITH MY ALE?!"
Even when he was fighting off unconsciousness, there was just something about Roger chasing Seidou around the dining room that made Mihawk almost want to laugh
==End of Chapter 25==
Well, it's been pretty damn long since my last update for this fic, so I made this chapter a bit longer.
As you can tell, this chapter takes place during the days when Gold Roger was still alive and sailing the high seas. There are probably a few continuity errors here and there (if I remember correctly, Roger was declared Pirate King pretty damn late into his career, so Buggy should have already eaten his Devil fruit, so he probably shouldn't be so chummy with Shanks), but one should never let that get in the way of a story.
"Seidou" means "bronze" in Japanese. If you've been paying attention to the Jolly Roger Pirates, you'll see why I named him that. The title of "strongest swordsman" was originally going to go to Rayleigh, but I figured that the guy already had enough titles.
And for those of you who think Mihawk becoming greatest swordsman at 18 is a stretch: Zoro's only a year older than he is in his fic, and he's trying to accomplish it!
And now for our "Trope Corner": Easy Amnesia is a stock plot, commonly seen in cartoons and sitcoms. A simple bump on the head will cause a character to completely lose their memories, yet retain the ability to think, speak, walk, etc.
In real life, bumps like the ones seen on TV (knocking the victim unconscious seems to be a requirement) would most likely cause a concussion, if not induce internal bleeding and a whole bunch of other shit that would basically kill you.
A blow to the head is also a convenient way to return the victim's memory, despite this being likely to make real-life amnesia worse instead of better. Amnesia generally takes time to heal, if it ever does.