Hello everybody,

I'm sorry for being so late, but I have been very sick and hadn't been able to work on my computer, sorry.

But here we go with the new chapter.

Thank you for so many comments, favors and followers^^

BlueBoltKatana: Okay, thank you, but I'm also a little bit scarred, as I know that the end is coming close o.o

Well yes, Zoro has found a way, but I won't say what it is, I don't like spoilers :-P

I hope you will enjoy the next chapter

Sharry

Chapter 30 – Plea

-Zoro-

Tired he rolled out of bed and toddled off towards the bathroom.

His reflection looked at him with the same grim face; the water did not help much.

Back in his room he realized that the chair, where Kanan usually put his clothes for the next day, was empty. The white dress of the last day was just lying there where he had taken it off.

With a sigh he pulled open some drawers of the commode. Even without Kanan he was capable to find something to wear and not run around naked. Not that he really cared but he kind of knew how his prude old friend would react.

Few minutes later he was dressed in ancient, wide trousers and a dusty, wine red pullover and walked down the stairs bare footed. His hair was untamable today but he did not care.

Downstairs he noted that nobody was there, the house was empty.

The kitchen was untouched, even the daily newspaper was nowhere to be found. This meant Kanan had not returned yet, but much stranger was that the Shichibukai was not downstairs yet. After all he had always been here when Zoro came in.

Surprised he went back upstairs and knocked at the other one's office.

No answer.

He opened the door, nobody was inside. All windows were closed the room was deserted.

With a strange feeling he closed the door again.

It would have been for the best to go downstairs, eating breakfast. Dracule had promised him an exhausting day. So why was he standing in front of the bedroom of the older one?
He really should not do it, he knew this could only be a mistake.

Silently he knocked against the dark door.

For another time he got no answer.

Hesitant he pushed down the knob an entered.

Never before he had been in this room. And why should he? Mihawk himself only went here to sleep and there was no reason for Zoro to bother his privacy.

The first thing he noticed was darkness.

This room was filled with coldness and loneliness, more than he had ever felt before. The barely furnished room was kept in dark colors and the only light was offered by the large windows. It was almost depressing to simply breathe this air.

Additionally the whole room smelled of stale booze and male sweat, almost like in a bar after a little bar fight, except for that cold, wooden scent which was unmistakably from the Shichibukai.

Together with the familiar smell of alcohol Zoro felt painfully homelike.

Then he noticed the legendary Black Sword, almost innocent in its holding on top of the dark commode.

Like it was magically alluring him he stepped closer, his hand reaching for it.

He could hear it hum, whisper.

His naked feet stepped on fabric and against glass, but all he noticed was this mighty weapon.

Almost humble he touched it, not at the handle, he would never dare to do that, but at the sharp blade, which once had marked his body.

"I wonder if you recognize me, even in this body?"
"Sure."

Surprised he turned around, pulling his hand back immediately.

In an adjoining doorframe leaned the Shichibukai.

He looked horrible.

In plain words.

His usually perfectly combed back hair stuck out into all directions. His beard was uncombed and it seemed rougher than usual. He had deep shadows under his usual piercing eyes and his cold face seemed paler and older through dark crinkles.

But something else told Zoro that the other man was still everything else than bad looking.

Dracule was wearing nothing but black, tight boxers, which enclosed the Shichibukai's loin region like a second skin. Apart from that he was completely naked, except for his cross pendant of course. Zoro wondered if the other one actually slept and bathed with it.

It swung slightly over the naked, well-trained chest, pointing down like an arrow, where a fine line of black hair vanished in the hemline of his briefs.

"What the hell has happened to you?" Zoro murmured and ignored his warm cheeks. He hated his female hormones.

"You look like you were eaten and puked out by a seacow."

The other one mumbled something under his breath and slowly swayed towards him.

"Are you dunk?"
"No…May…Yes."

With those - yes he could call it words - the swaying tower of a man was standing in front of him and looked down at him.

"What's wrong?" Never before he had seen the other one like this.

"Nothing." The other one answered unclear, reaching a hand for him and placing it on his delicate shoulders. Slowly the older one bent down. His wooden scent filled Zoro's nose and his heart skipped several beats when the face of the black-haired one came closer and closer.

And then they fell.

Zoro gasped surprised and Dracule grunted deeply as they lost their grip and dropped down between clattering, empty, glass bottles and torn clothes.

"Fuck!" Zoro gnarled, holding the back of his head where he had hit the edge of the commode. Black dots clouded his vision.

His legs und lower body felt unusual heavy and when he looked down he saw the Shichibukai lying on top of his lower half, while he was stuck in-between bed and commode.

"Hey." He murmured annoyed. "Get up. You're too heavy."

The other one did not react at all, but stayed like this.

"Hey!" He hissed louder and grabbed the older one's shoulder. "Get off, idiot!"
The other one continued to do nothing. Slightly angered Zoro threw his head back and hit unintentionally the commode again.

"Ugh! Fucking dammit! Hawk Eyes! Get up!"

"Mi…hawk." The drunken something mumbled, halfway muffled by Zoro's pullover.

"Like I care. Just get off of me!"
"No."

Helpless he looked down at the man in his lap, who looked like Zoro's lap was kind of comfy.

"What the hell!"

"No."
"My ass!"

With all his force he tried to lift up the other one, but failed miserable. Mihawk was as heavy as a dully gorged Luffy and because Zoro lay under the older one and was pinned against the commode it was almost impossible for him to move.

Sighing because of the struggle and because his limbs pulsed in pain he let go of the other one. This situation was pathetic, considering that he was usually capable of lifting whole houses.

"Get off!" He almost pleaded whiningly. "We wanted to train."
"Later." Was the muffled answer he got.

"Did you even sleep?"

"Nope."

"Are you drunk?"

"Yes."
"Why?"

…

"Because."
Zoro sighed annoyed and tried to turn the older ones head, without breaking his neck. After few seconds he had placed his teacher in a more comfortable position, where he would not suffocate on Zoro's pullover.

The older one faced him now with one halfway opened yellow eye, obviously too tired to move on his own.

"What the hell has happened to you?" Zoro asked, although he was not sure if he really wanted to know why the other one was in this pathetic condition. "Why did you get wasted last night?"

The one eye he could see widened a little before the Shichibukai slitted it.

"You." Was all he answered surprisingly sober. But his word confused Zoro only more.

What was wrong with the other one?
"Fine, for heaven's sake. It's my fault, again. Wanna talk about it and tell me what's your real problem?"
"No."
"Gosh dammit. Could you at least get up, please?"
"No."
"So what are you planning to do?"
…

"Nothing."
"Oh my, this is gonna be a long day."
"Yes."
"That wasn't a question."

With a sigh he watched the other one, who had closed his eyes by now. The short answers and the dirty look of the room actually told him the whole story of the last night. He simply did not understand why the other one had to drown himself in booze.

And now he was lying here, unable to move under his deadly drunken teacher.

What on earth did he do to deserve this?

"Zo…ro?"
Surprised he looked down. The older one rarely used his first name.
"What's wrong? Gotta puke?"

The other one tried to shook his head.

"No. Stay here."
Zoro laughed ruefully. "Not like I could leave. After all you're on top of me. But don't get any wrong ideas."

He imagined seeing a small smile on those thin lips.

"Good." Mihawk's voice was nothing but a low whisper.

Zoro closed his eyes and leaned back. He listened to the calm, even breathing of the other one. Did he fall asleep?

Slowly the first rays of sunlight lightened up the cold room, but none of them moved.

"So tell me." Zoro said after some time, without even knowing if the other one heard him. "You said your sword remembers me."

The older man on him grumbled in agreement.

"How do you know?"

Very slowly this one eye opened again and starred him down.

"We… talk."

Considering that he was barely able to talk his mind was actually quite sober.

"About me?"
The thin lips turned into an ugly grin.

"Yoru… likes your blood." The one eye closed again.

Zoro laughed softly.

He could still feel the force of the sword above his back. The power he felt was really impressive but it could not replace what he knew and missed from his own swords.

"It's so quiet." He mumbled.
"Hmm?" This eye opened up again.
"Yoru hums so quietly."
Agreeing the older one nodded faintly. But suddenly he lifted his head and stared at him with huge eyes.

"What's wrong?"

For another moment the other one stared at him astonished, those unusual hawk eyes widened in shock, but then he shook his head and lay back down.

Zoro laughed again.

"Josei is so much louder. It's gnarling like a mountain witch, always complaining. Reminds me of my Kitetsu, always wanting to fight and to taste blood. So different to…"

"Roronoa?"
"What?"

"Shut up."

He had no idea how long they lay there like this.

He, buried under the greatest swordsman in the world and his teacher, victim of his own deeds.

At some point he had placed his hand on the other one's head, his fingers striking through the soft, black hair, like the other one had done so often before with him.

It was such a surreal situation, here with this man. His unforgettable scent filled the air and his even breathing had something calming. Behind Zoro's back the greatest sword in the world hummed softly and he was in-between, listening to those soothing sounds, almost meditating.

Although his legs felt numb already and one drawer pinched his shoulder blade, this was not too bad. He had already experienced worse post-mornings.

Suddenly he could hear steps coming closer, but it was not like he could do much, so he waited for Kanan to show up and yell at him.

But he should be surprised.

Because the one, standing in the door frame, was rear admiral Cho Jiroushin.

The blonde's eyes grew big and his jaw dropped for a second, when he noted the half-naked Shichibukai on top of Zoro.
"What the…" The marine mumbled utterly confused and in slight horror, like he was watching his parents 'hobnobbing'.

"He's drunk." Zoro answered in a sad smile, before the other one's imagination went too far. He had no idea what the marine wanted here that early after the ball, but he did not care. This rear admiral was his savior right now.

"Geez! Are you alright?" The other one asked simply, much more collected than Zoro expected him to be.

"I think so. Don't know how much he had, actually. Yesterday he had been fine."
Half an hour later the Shichibukai was back in his bed and Zoro was freed.

By now he and Jiroushin were down in the kitchen, drinking some freshly brewed coffee by the marine.

"So because of yesterday." The blond mumbled. "I don't really want to get started in what a mess both of you got. I mean, I know that Hawky doesn't really care about authorities but I thought he would be more carefully if it comes to you."

Zoro laughed softly. "Don't worry. We'll be alright."

He enjoyed his hot drink after the long time on the cold floor.

"But tell me, Jiroushin what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home with your wife?"

Confused the other one looked at him, before nodding.

"Oh yeah right, because of your unexpected escape – by the way, why did you do that? – we had no time to talk." His voice was a little bit offended and proud at the same time. "So I got your stuff with me, but more importantly Hawky asked me for a favor."

Weary Zoro tilted his head. "Okay?"
"Loreen, starting today I'll be your teacher."

-Mihawk-

He woke up, a skunky taste in his mouth.

The ceiling above him spun around, the bed under him spun around and he himself spun around as well, or maybe not.

His gaze wandered through the room.

Light rays of sunlight entered through the wide open windows and warm breezes of summer greeted him.

The room was clean and tidy, the small desk under the windows was occupied by clean clothes.

His head was pounding like run over by a sea train.

What had happened?

Pieces of the last night filled his inner eye.

He had been at the ball.

He had taken Roronoa home.

He had undressed Roronoa.

He had drunken alcohol, much alcohol.

Roronoa had ruffled through his hair.

They had lied on the ground together.

Something was off…

Suddenly his memories came back and he jumped out of the bed.

Slightly dizzy he sat back down. His crapulous mind had mixed his memories up, almost giving him the totally wrong idea. He should pay more attention to his drinking habits, since this house was occupied by another cohabitant he was drinking much more than he should.

When he had been younger he had enjoyed those drinking nights on an almost daily matter, but maybe he was really getting old because he felt horrible.

Headshaking he got up. He had to pull himself together. Self-pity would not do any good, he had to function now.

After all he had a new training concept for his tomboy and he would need to explain it to that little frog. He was already looking forward to that discussion.

Not.

With unstable steps he went back into the cool bathroom, taking a shower and hoping that this would clear his head.

It had been foolish to drink that much at such a bad timing. Who knew what would await Roronoa and himself this morning after the ball.

His head pounded less when he left the shower but his limbs were still stiff. He dried himself and got dressed. From now on he had to be the one the other one expected him to be.

Determined he stroke his hair back and left the room.

But downstairs in the kitchen only the housekeeper welcomed him, reading the newspaper.

Actually he was welcomed by a huge picture of himself in red mask and black suit. In front of him kneeled the lady in white, one hand raised.

This picture said more about the last night than any article could.

"Good morning." He greeted his former nanny and reached for the coffee.

"Tze." That was all he got as an answer.

"Where is our guest?"
He was not in the mood for her games. He could kind of imagine what was bothering her.

"In the training room." She answered grim.

"Already? I have not even told anything about Jirou yet." Determined he continued to ignore her bad mood.

"He is with her." Slowly the newspaper was lowered and eyes ready to kill glared at him.

"Fine, then I will go as…"
"How dare you!" Mad she jumped up, throwing the newspaper on the table.

"Kanan, you should…"
"Bad-mannered boor!"
"You know exactly that those articles do not tell the truth." He replied cold to her angered voice.

"Oh I do! I wish they were true!" She clicked her knuckles against the papers.

"According to the newspaper yesterday night was a great evening with wonderful guests. Loreen and you have been the pair of the night and every picture is phenomenal."
"So why are you killing my patience?"
"Because Jiroushin told me the truth!" She hissed. "You broke the rules! You did not ask Loreen for the first dance! You fled from the ball, before it was ended, like a coward!"
"Are you quite done?" He asked bored.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to do so, because my guest wanted to do so."
Kanan's eyes grew wide.

"The ball officially ends after the last dance. We did not leave before, so we did nothing wrong. Up until yesterday no woman ever dared to ask a man for a dance, therefore it was not forbidden. We did do nothing against the rules. Considering all of this I miss the understanding why you scold me like that."

He chose every word cautiously, while her jaw dropped down.

"I will head for the training room now and afterwards I expect a meal for my guests and me."

He spun around on his heels, coffee in his hand, and left.

Not too bad for a man with a hangover, he had to admit. Although he had forgotten to take the newspaper with him as well.

When he reached the changing room he could already hear the clash of metal and familiar voices.

"That was already quite good."
"That was everything but good!"

Grinning he crossed the dressing room, this should be fun.

"If you don't take this serious, we can stop right away. I'm not here for playing games."

His mood lightened up as he entered the training room and watched both swordsmen facing each other.

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" The rear admiral seemed confused.

Roronoa on the other hand was furious.

He noted Mihawk, turned towards him and pointed his new sword towards the marine.

"This is your solution?" He asked indignant. "After the insane nanny you serve me that lame pacifist?"

Both older men looked surprised at the cursed woman.

"What happened to your respect for the peaceful warrior?" The Shichibukai asked smiling and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, up yours! This is useless."
Sighing he folded his arms and regarded his tomboy.

"You want to tell me again that you prefer training on your own, like last time you were wrong?"

"I tell you that I don't need a teacher who is satisfied with average and doesn't take me serious!"
His childhood friend stood between them and watched their discussion unimpressed.

Mihawk knew that impression. His friend was known for his happy, unconcerned behavior but he knew exactly when it was smart to listen. His strategic thinking was on a par with his own.

"So? Go ahead and kill him."
Surprised Roronoa took a step back.

"What?" He asked confused.

But the black-haired one stayed calm.

"If your opponent underestimates you because of you physical condition, use it in your favor. Although I do doubt that you will defeat him in any way. But if you think he does not fight you with all his might, go ahead and kill Jiroushin, if you are able to do so."
He hoped that his words had reached the other one clearly and spurred him enough.

His childhood friend on the other hand lowered his sword and looked at Mihawk dismissive.

"Don't you think that was a little bit too much, Hawky? To tell a young lady to…"
He interrupted himself as his eyes rushed to the side, before he turned around and blocked the sudden attack.

Roronoa had become agile. In the next moment he was already on the rear admiral's left, ducked and swung Josei forward.

The blond dodged, but the girl followed him right away.

"Loreen…" Jirou tried but was interrupted by the next attack of the pirate.

The Shichibukai leaned against the wall and watched them.
This fight was on a totally different level than the ridiculous intermezzo against the housekeeper. He could actually see how much the other one had improved in every single movement. It was impressive how fast the other one had grotten.

Of course he was still no real thread for Jiroushin, who used just the right amount of energy to dodge or block an attack, not more.

Actually Jiroushin was the perfect replacement for Mihawk. He was a competent teacher and also quite gifted in using a sword, although not half as perfect as with his rapier. He needed less than a second to recognize his pupil's skills and was fairly well in working on their weaknesses. He was probably the best teacher Mihawk could picture aside from himself.

Of course he was better than his friend, whom he had trained all those years ago. He also claimed to be better in teaching. Which was why he had only trained those he thought of being worthy. Roronoa was now his third disciple through all those years.

But he was the first one he could not teach without endangering him. Who would have known that a child from the East Blue could crumble his patience so easily?

This was why he had been looking for an acceptable replacement.

Unfortunately his dear friend Jirou had one obvious weakness, despite his annoying habit of avoiding a fight with words. The rear admiral was favoring women. He fought with them and respected them. But he never was as strict on them as he was with their male colleagues.

Secretly Mihawk hoped that not only his tomboy would learn something in those sessions.

"Enough!"

Suddenly the girl of a swordsman flew through the room and clashed against the opposing wall.

As Jirou had continued to dodge his attacks Roronoa had started to become more risky with obviously lacks in his defenses.

A dangerous tactic to reach a counterattack. Almost stupid if inferior in skills and strengths. But it had been successful.

"Oh no, Loreen!" The rear admiral yelled now in shock, because he certainly did not want to hurt the apparent woman.

The pirate got up. His hairband was gone and the green waves were almost flowing with electricity. His eyes sparkled with pugnacity and grinning widely the youngster whipped some blood from his lips.

"Just like that." The child whispered dangerously.

It was amusing to see that sweet, little girl turn into a predator.

But Jirou was shocked.

Smiling softly he padded his friend's shoulder.

"Like I said." He said low. "Exercises and theory are a waste of time with this student. You will only improve this child's abilities due real fights including real danger."

"I'm still here." Just said child said.

"I really don't see why you don't want to train her, Hawky."
"Like I said, as long as this child is not able to use Haki, it would be too dangerous."

"What? You're teaching her although she isn't even capable of using Haki?"
"I'm still here." The child repeated more angered.

"No, this is why you are here."
"What can I teach her in five days? That's not enough time!"
"Not all of us canter slowly, some of us are racing horses."

"You're more the dressage type but that's not the point. I need more time, let's say two weeks and I could…"
"Not happening."

Suddenly the girl with the bloody lip stood between the tall men.

"Five days is all you got." The cursed pirate had no problems to meet them on a par despite the height difference.
The blond looked down confused.

"For heaven's sake, Loreen. I don't recognize you, with all that fired up and…"
"Impudent?" The Shichibukai offered. "However I agree. We only have five days left before my guest will leave."
"What?"
"Yes and I agree furthermore that this training only has its use if you take it serious. Slack sessions are nothing but a waste of time."
For a moment the rear admiral looked at the girl and then at the Shichibukai, brooding over something.

"You should go now, Hawky." He decided calm.

"You exclude me from my own training room?"

"If you want me to take care of her training, then yes. I'm totally capable of bringing Loreen as far as you want, but according to my own rules. And I don't want your grim face to ruin my mood. So get out or do it yourself."