Chapter 8: Mihawk/Tashigi: Genderbend
The inherent eroticism of gothic swords.
Notes: For you zipcodeman!
Tashigi stood next to Smokoko, her superior chewing on her cigars more aggressively than usual. She frowned and pushed her red glasses up her nose a little farther. Cigarette smoke drifted overhead, mingling and disappearing with the flags flying above.
"Do we really need this many soldiers to greet them…I mean, aren't they our allies?" Tashigi's eyes flicked to her left, Hino-san's underlings, Janga and Fullbabe were whispering to each other. They didn't understand. They hadn't been at Alabasta… but they had been at the Paramount War.
"Hush! The Navy needs to look like a force to be reckoned with, especially after Blackbeard betrayed us, and with the loss of Gecko Moria, and… and Crocodile too! So shush!" she glared at the women, both of them looking at her sheepishly.
"Hino will discipline his own soldiers Tashigi-chan," Hino growled out of the corner of his mouth. His red suit was extra clean today, his long flowing pink hair up high off his neck in a traditional style. Tashigi flushed a little in embarrassment.
"She's not wrong though, a united front is all we got at the damn moment," Smokoko spat. Tashigi looked up at her, the sun glinting off her white hair. The brand new medal she'd received was pinned to her jacket still, thanks to Tashigi's efforts.
Trumpets sounded down the way, soldiers shuffling, shoulders straightening. Standing at attention, ready, waiting, perhaps a little threatening. "It's all fucking posturing, Doflamingo or Mihawk could kill half our numbers here without breaking a damn sweat." That's what Smokoko had said the night before through clenched teeth, at the bar across from Hino-san.
Those were the words that rang through Tashigi's head as the Shichibukai left their ships and began their long walk up towards New Marineford, shiny and fresh.
Doflamingo looked as she always did, her platinum blonde hair slicked back, her glimmering neon pink stilettos matching her feather cloak. Behind her a few paces was the Pirate Emperor, Hancock, his gorgeous blue eyes and chisled cheekbones sending stupid rippling sighs through the ranks. Smokoko bit down harder on her cigars. The man had broken her jitte less than a year prior in the war, letting Mugiwara escape her clutches once again.
And then-
Then he came.
Hawkeye Mihawk. With the most gorgeous sword Tashigi had ever seen on his back. Large, black, shining. A hilt and a blade like no other. Her hands itched and before she could stop herself, Tashigi moved. Just a single step forward.
One tiny movement in a wall of stillness.
His eyes zeroed in on her. Golden, sharp, piercing. The eyes of a predator, a monster, a devil. Inhuman and cold. Tashigi froze, heart suddenly pounding, blood roaring in her ears. Shigure hummed at her side, calling for the fight, the thrill of battle, of blood and victory! Smokoko stiffened next to her, the smell of ash and burning intensifying, ready to defend Tashigi, allies be damned.
Then he turned away, continuing towards Headquarters.
"Fucking Pirates," her superior growled around her cigars. Tashigi nodded numbly, staring after him still, the glint of Yoru burning into her mind long after he was gone.
Tashigi spun, Shigure gleaming in the moonlight, the smell of the ocean and blood harsh and crisp. She was only a dark shadow wielding the blade, through body after body. Spin, thrust, slice, jab. Smooth and flawless, there in the dark.
Something appeared ahead of her. A dark shape, blacker than the night. Like a vortex. But something glinted in its hand. An obsidian blade. Sharp enough to cut the world in twain. The edge was a red line of pain, of death, of beauty. The hilt of golden sunlight.
Tashigi's breath stopped in her lungs, the blade arced toward her as she brought up Shigure, inferior in make, in legend, in all ways to block. Two terrifying bestial yellow eyes bore into hers, swallowing her within their glaring depths!
She wasn't fast enough-
The blade-!
Tashigi awoke in a cold sweat, placing her hand over her chest where Yoru would have sliced into her very soul. Her fingers trembled as she breathed in and out, calming her heartbeat. Rain battered the porthole window outside her small quarters. It was barely dawn, the gray light smudging the shapes of the port, of the newly constructed towers of New Marineford.
Shigure leaned against her bed, a reassuring presence. She grasped the hilt, shifting the sheath down, her eyes reflecting in the blade, pupils blown wide. Tashigi slumped back against her pillows with a huff. Yoru was an incredible sword, deserved better than being in the hands of the… the Naval Hunter. She clenched her fist, bringing Shigure closer to her chest.
Tashigi had seen the skill with which he wielded the blade. Cutting the battlefield on Marineford into ribbons. A clash that at any other time, she would have found… beautiful.
She stayed in bed until the sun rose fully, thoughts filled with piercing golden eyes.
The Shichibukai were to remain at New Marineford for a time, being updated on the movements of the Emperors since the death of Whitebeard and whatever else was demanded of them. The entire base was on edge, Doflamingo stirring up trouble and pitting soldiers against one another for his amusement until Vice Admiral Tsuru would inevitably appear and chase him off.
Hancock would cause havoc wherever he went because well… "He was so handsome!". Hino-san seemed in particular to want to wring his neck, carefully keeping his crew of squealing women away from the Shichibukai's
Commander Smokoko was smoking three times as much as usual, filling Admiral's Fujitora's office with far too much smoke before being given little tasks to keep her busy until she and the others would be able to return to the G-5.
Of course, that meant Tashigi was dragged around with her, overseeing training drills and attending meetings (which Tashigi didn't mind!) where Smokoko-san would be more irate and rub the other commanders the wrong way (not unusual but worse). Then Tashigi would try to smooth things over and by the time midafternoon rolled around, she wanted to tear everyone's heads off.
"It would be good if you could stop irritating our Superiors, Smokoko-chan," Hino-san sighed as they ate lunch in his new permanent office on base. Smokoko glared at him, a huff of smoke erupting from the end of her cigars in the vague shape of a middle finger. Tashigi sighed. "Issho-san isn't as lenient as Kuzan-san, at the very least for Tashigi-chan's sake, be less of a hard headed idiot."
Oh boy, that was the wrong thing to say as her boss' hackles went up at the mere mention of former Admiral Aokiji. Now they were going to get into it. Tashigi closed her eyes, a pounding starting in the space between her eyes. Without saying anything, she excused herself from the now furiously bickering smokers and went in search of quiet. Or peace.
Or a space to practice.
She wandered between tall white stone buildings, away from training drills, away from the businesses that serviced the naval base. Peace and quiet at a major hub was always hard to find, but there were always places. A massive green space sat in the middle of Headquarters. Part garden, part forest, and though manicured to an exacting degree, it served the purpose.
In the forest amongst a stand of large bamboo, Tashigi found a quiet clearing. Green and alive, smelling of soil and perspiring grass. She pulled Shigure from her sheath, shifting into a relaxed but ready stance. Instantly, she began to feel her headache fade away. Her shoulders loosened as she began to move through kata after kata.
The weight of Shigure in her palm was calming, like a security blanket. Tashigi closed her eyes and let herself move with her blade, feet normally so clumsy now effortlessly following a timeless dance.
Wind blew gently through the bamboo, the sound of the long stalks rubbing against one another reedy and hitched.
Something whipped towards her!
Tashigi whirled around, wind whistling in her ears, sparks flying as she brought Shigure up just in time! Golden eyes bored down into hers, their blades locked, knuckles touching. There was nothing in those eyes, no rage, no heat, just a vast unreadable emptiness. Fear arced down her spine. She was alone with the strongest swordsman in the world.
Yoru was heavy against Shigure, a black oppressive weight. A beautiful construction of metal, true and unparalleled craftsmanship. If she were to die from this blade…then she would die with her back straight, as a swordswoman should!
She grit her teeth and pushed back against him, sweat dripping down her neck as she strained forward, desperate to turn his blade to the side, to avoid him cutting into her very soul. Something flickered in his eyes and with a flick of his wrist, knocked her back towards the earth. The breath left her lungs as Shigure was sent flying upward out of her hand.
He caught her blade with one hand, Yoru tip down in the earth. Her ears were ringing, heart beating wildly as she stared at him, glasses knocked into the brush somewhere behind her. Hawkeye ran his finger down her blade before gripping the hilt tightly and with a flash of bright light, the bamboo behind her split into a thousand pieces. But she was untouched, Shigure singing in his grip.
Heat suffused across Tashigi's face, humiliation burning in her stomach. This was worse than death, flaunting her sword's capabilities in front of her. But Tashigi would not cry, not in front of him. Even if he killed her.
"Are you done toying with me? At least kill me with honor!" she hissed. His piercing gaze shot to her face. Seconds like eternity passed before he moved. Long strides brought him looming above her, white shirt rippling in the breeze.
Yoru stayed in the earth behind him, only Shigure in his grip. He was going to kill her with her own sword. Fire tore through Tashigi's chest. A cleansing rage of hatred, of fury, of-
Hawkeyes Mihawk grabbed her wrist, tugging her up towards him as if she weighed nothing. Palm rough with callouses against her smooth skin, the smell of his aftershave like that of cedar, of wine, of metal filling her lungs.
He placed Shigure in Tashigi's hand, their fingers resting against one another. A melody like no other filled her ears, the blade pulsing through them both. Like a violin concerto, like the sky on a cloudy night, like a maelstrom in a bottle. Goosebumps raced up her arms.
"She's a good blade," he murmured into Tashigi's ear then stepped away.
Her knees crumpled as, without another glance, the Greatest Swordsman in the World left without looking back.
Notes: Yes so it was 2AM and I was stumped on this fic until I thought of Fullbody's genderswapped name being Fullbabe and then I was inspired. I am fucking OBSESSED with this ship now. The girl who wants to take swords from the unworthy, the worlds greatest swordsman?! A woman trying to show that she is equal to the men in her field? Yessssssss give me this. Give me AAAAAALLLLLL of this.