Jaded Lullaby

by Piccylo

Because of his disimpassioned demeanor and cold eyes, it's easy to forget that Hawkeye Mihawk had to struggle to become the world's greatest swordsman. Before he became a Shichibukai, he had a ship, nakama... and even a child.

Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda, who is not I. I don't know him, nor do I know anyone in Shonen Jump, or anyone in 4Kids (I wouldn't be friends with anyone from there, anyway), or Toei Animation. Rated for language, violence, and the occasional consumption of alcohol.

This fic is based on an interpretation of what Juraquille "Hawkeye" Mihawk's past could have been like before he became a Shichibukai. That being said, there are a lot of characters in this that are OCs, most notably, his former "nakama" (take this as a warning if you dislike OC-heavy stories). I'm attempting to convey this in the same manner as in Eiichiro Oda's storytelling when showing the stories of characters' pasts.

Ah, I almost forgot: This is my first One Piece fic. It's also a ONE SHOT (albeit a very very very long one shot).

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The Great Age of Piracy threatened to swallow up many islands and towns with the ripples that Gold Roger created… the ripples that grew into great crashing waves, bigger and more destructive than any tsunami. Because of this, towns like "Whiskey Peak" weren't too original; it was no longer unthinkable for a whole population to earn its bread as bounty hunters, and entire towns were built on the decapitated heads of pirates.

Even though it had only been three years since Gold Roger's execution, civilization itself had been turned upside-down. And people had to adjust to all of this. It seemed to be successful anymore, your town should at least have a pub for bounty hunters to go to and discuss their business, especially if you were in the Grand Line. Hunters scourged through the streets with as hungry looks as any pirate; bounty posters littered every landscape and fluttered around with each gust of wind. And, to top it off, the Marines and the World Government had gone almost totalitarian-based-insane while they scattered about, attempting in vain to weed out the Chaos that so defiantly grew between the cracks of their Order.

One bounty hunter among a dozen grunted and entered into a pub for his kind, puffing angrily at his cigarette in obvious dejection from his recent defeat. The "big one" just got away from him: a head that was worth 40 million beli. The bastard just slipped away from under his fingers, and he'd been fuming about it ever since he came to shore. He sat down on a stool and shook his head as he pulled the nub from his mouth and smashed the burning embers into a nearby ashtray.

The bartender didn't even look up from the glass he was cleaning. "So, you going to be staying in town a while this time, Vicky?"

The man wiped his forehead clear of any stray hairs and leaned into his hand with his elbow on the table. "Might as well. I'm having a bad week, anyway. Every bounty head I came across got away. I'm beginning to think that those weird devil-abilities are showing up more often now."

"And that's how this guy got away?"

"I had the guy in ropes, okay? And you know that I can at least tie a damn knot! But this guy somehow weaseled his way out of them and ran off before I even realized what was going on! I heard a lot of those people with abilities can change into smoke and stuff like that, so one of them could easily get out of ropes, right?"

"It seems to me that you're just trying to find something to blame your loss on."

The bounty hunter was about to respond, but a drink was placed before him, and he resolved to scowl while he drained the glass. After he slammed it back down on the counter, he looked up at the many "WANTED" posters that caked the walls. "You should take that one down," he muttered before he pushed the glass forward again.

"Huh? What was that?" The bartender said as he picked up the glass to refill it.

"You should take down the one for that woman, Bonney 'The Siren'. Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what? Someone actually take her bounty?"

"Nah. I doubt anyone could get past her captain for that. But she is dead."

"Really? How'd that happen? I heard she had a disease that only mermen and mermaids get."

"Yeah, I heard that too, but people've been sayin' that she's died in childbirth."

"Let me guess," he filled up the mug with another frothy beer and set it back down on the counter. "The father's the captain himself?"

"That's what everyone else seems to think. It's kind of scary, when you think about it: the offspring of that vicious mermaid pirate, Bonney 'The Siren', and one of the runners-up for greatest swordsmen in the world, 'Hawkeye' Mihawk."

"Yeah. That kid'll likely raise Hell on Earth. I bet Mihawk will feed it Sea Kings for breakfast and Marine corpses for lunch."

"Haha. He'll breed a little monster, surely."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mihawk looked on to the waves, hoping that the scene of endlessly moving water would calm him down. After the events of the past few days, he felt bewildered and tired. He didn't really get any rest, and he felt too nauseous to bring himself to eat. The weight of Bonney's death bore down on him, and with the air empty of her singing and her music, the silence just made it seem even heavier. He longed for the sound of water splashing in front of him to be drowned out by her sound.

Instead, it was drowned out by the scream of a crying baby. He groaned and entered the cabin and looked into the crib that his shipwright built. The wooden contraption swayed with each movement of the ship, and brightly painted figures of fish and stars dangled down before the child. The little imp squirmed under her blankets and continued to wail.

Juraquille leaned down and stared at the creature. "What do you want now, you little monster, eh? Can you not sleep again?"

It continued to cry.

"Of course, it's not like you can answer my words yet." He sighed and stood straight. "What was I thinking when I agreed to keep you here on the ship?"

"Ara ara…" The cook walked in from the kitchen. "Whelp's sobbing up a storm again. You didn't scare your own daughter with your face, did you Captain?"

"Joke all you want, Pompeius. It's not going to stop until we figure out what she wants."

"Hungry."

"What?"

"The brat's hungry; I'm a pirate chef, so I can tell that kind of yell, whether it be from an adult man, a baby girl, or an animal whatever. I'll heat up some milk for her. In the meantime, you should pick her up and try to calm her down. You've barely touched her since she was born. Maybe you can even bother yourself to think up a name for her."

Pompeius left the room, leaving the captain with his daughter. Mihawk at length slid his hands under the bundle and awkwardly brought her up to his breast. In response, she immediately calmed down, but she still sobbed and squirmed in her father's grasp.

"That's right. You don't have a name, you little thing," he muttered, "Bonney said that she was going to name you after she saw your face, but…"

Bonney slowly moved to face her newborn child, her whole face shining with her sweat. She smiled. "I'm glad… I survived the worst pain. Is it a girl?"

"Yes, Bonney-san…"

"Then… she'll be strong, too. Girls are always stronger than boys in the end. Hah… I'm glad… I'm… glad…"

"Hey, Captain!"

Mihawk blinked and looked down at his crewmember. "Ah, finished all ready? That was quick."

"No it wasn't quick at all; you just blanked out again. You've been doing that ever since Bonney… passed on. You really need to get some rest… and some food in your stomach!" He thrust the warm bottle into his hand. "Here. Feed her."

"What? Can't you do that?"

"No, because I'm going to go back into the kitchen and cook you up some food, too, so you don't starve to death. Besides, you're her father. You should be doing the bonding."

The door slammed again, and Mihawk sighed before placing the bottle to the child's lips. The child immediately took root and suckled from the rubber nipple. "I have no idea what Bonney would have wanted to name you… so I have to think up a name myself." He watched as the small supply of milk diminished to nothing, and he placed the empty bottle down onto a table. After an unsure moment of silence, he brought her to his shoulder and patted her back lightly when he remembered that it was what he was supposed to do.

He pulled the child from his shoulder and looked down at her. She cooed a little and squeezed her large eyes closed, going fast asleep with a small yawn. He replaced her into the rocking crib and stepped back. It seemed as though, all at once, his head had cleared, and his nausea subsided. And it struck him just as suddenly how hungry and tired he was. He followed his senses into the kitchen, from which a delicious smell was already wafting forth.

"Pompeius! What are you cooking up? Will it be done soon? Because I'm starving." He said with a smile before he sat down.

The chef looked up from his stove. "Ah, I'm making lamb and vegetables for you. It might sound a bit heavy, but it should sit well even after not eating for so long. It's almost finished."

"Ah, good. I want to eat quickly and get to bed."

"Ha! Really? Looks like your little brat finally taught you to keep living and not try to morn Bonney into your own death."

"She certainly did…" Mihawk sat in thought for a moment. "Monique."

"What was that?"

"I think I'll name her 'Monique.' Does that sound like a good name?"

"Oh! Heh, aye, it's a nice name. Sounds pretty and sophisticated. I'm sure she'll grow well into it."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Monique! Get back here you little brat!"

The little five-year-old easily dodged Pompeius' approach as the rain pounded down on them both, and she effortlessly climbed up the slippery mast to get out of his reach. When she made it to the masthead, she looked back at Pompeius, pulled down an eyelid lid, and stuck out her tongue. "Nyaa! Pompeius-ojisan is too old to catch meee!"

"Old!" Pompeius growled. "I'm not much older than your father!"

"Papa's old too!" She yelled down, still taunting him.

"Gah! What a mouth that reckless child has on her! You would dare say something like that about the captain?"

"You say it too! You said his voice sounds old and scary the other day!"

"I said that he had the voice of God himself!"

"I know that! But you're exact words were 'He surely has the voice of God… for only God could sound as ancient and frightening'!"

"…You certainly are Bonney's child…"

"What's the problem here?" The captain approached. The drizzle dripped down from his wide-rimmed hat and flattened the feather on it with the weight of water.

"You're blasted daughter wont sit still for her cooking lessons, and she climbed up the bloody main mast again!"

Mihawk scowled as he felt a drop of sweat run down his temple. "How does she keep climbing up there so fast, and during a storm at that? She's only five!"

"I tell ya', she's inherited more than her mommy's looks."

"Monique!" Mihawk turned his sights up past the sail and yelled. "Come down from there!"

"No way! I don't wanna learn to cook! I wanna learn to fight like you, Papa!"

"Monique, you're too young for that! Besides, you can learn to cook and fight as well. You know that Pompeius is an excellent fighter."

"I don't like cooking!"

He groaned. "You're being obstinate! You're a girl! You're going to grow up to be a woman! We need to make sure that you're prepared for that!"

"But we already have a cook!"

"You're not listening to me at all, are you?" He jumped and was in an instant standing beside his daughter on the tall pole. "That's not the point! You're my responsibility, and I have to make sure that you're prepared for when you leave this ship someday. Now, come on."

Instead of protesting anymore, Monique grew quiet, but she did not budge.

"Monique! I said 'come on'!"

She bit her lip. Tears began to fill up in her eyes, and her shoulders started to shake.

"…Monique?"

"Uuuwaahaahaaahhhh!" The little girl sobbed loudly.

Mihawk blinked in surprise and held his hands out almost defensively before him. "Ah! What did I say? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Do you not want to cook that badly?" He gripped his teeth and hunched up his shoulders in worry that he might have done something wrong.

"Papa…! Do you really not want me around anymore?" She balled up her fists and wiped her eyes with them. "Am I really that much of a burden?"

"…Huh? Where did you get that idea?"

"I heard you say before that it's difficult to have me around, and that I shouldn't be here, and that I should be on land, and that I'm not a pirate, and—"

"Wait! Slow down, Monique!"

"I don't want you to send me away, Papa!" She screamed out, and continued to bawl noisily.

He put a hand to his forehead and frowned as he watched his daughter cry. "Is that what this is about?" He came closer and settled his hands on her small shoulders. "Monique, you're the most precious thing I have in this world. Why on Earth would I want to send you away?"

"B-but, you were just—"

"Monique, I meant that I want to prepare for when you grow up and have to do things on your own. Right now, you have no choice but to stay on this ship. I promised your mother before she died that I would take care of you on this ship, because if I wasn't there to protect you, one of my or your mother's enemies might try and take you away for good. She couldn't stand the thought of that, and neither could I.

"But Monique… you don't have to be a criminal like me. One day, you'll be able to leave this ship onto land, and you'll never have to look back again. You don't have to be a pirate just because you were born and raised on a pirate ship."

"B-b-but I wanna be a pirate!" She choked out, still sniveling, but trying to regain her control. "I wanna be useful to you and not a burden! I wanna stay on this ship and be your nakama forever!"

"Monique…" He sighed, and he pulled his daughter into his arms and hugged her. "I want to be your nakama forever, too. And we will be."

"..H-huh?"

"You see, nakama are much closer than other friends or family, because as long as they call each other nakama, no matter if they split up, or if they quit sailing the seas, or even if they die, they're still nakama. Do you understand?"

"So… you won't send me away?"

"I'll never send you away if I can help it. But I won't force you to stay after you've grown old enough to leave, either. I want you to know that."

"…Okay…"

"Hey, Captain!" A yell came from below. It was his first mate, who had been roused outside the cabins by the child's blubbering along with every other crewman. "Since when were you the sentimental type, eh? The life of a parent has really gotten you soft!"

Mihawk half-sneered back at him. "Shut your mouth, Castor! I'll have you keelhauled one of these days!"

"Yeah, yeah…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The seagulls squawked and flew by on one of the few clear, sunny days one can experience while traveling on the Grand Line. This was taken as an opportunity by the crew to relax and fish, though they knew from experience that they should be ready to jump up and fight a storm at any moment.

Castor, however, couldn't manage to relax as he held the fishing rod before him. More and more his agitation grew, and he was certain that by this point, that frustration was resonating through his line and scaring away all of the fish.

"Could you buzz off all ready, kid?" He snapped.

Monique looked puzzled to his exclamation. "Am I bothering you, Castor-ojisan?"

The first mate grumbled and ran a hand through his silver hair. "Yes… No… Hell, I don't know…"

"Huh?"

"You're not bothering me intentionally, I know. But you have that same damn creepy stare that your father has. That along with his pale skin, black hair, and your mother's long lashes, it all equals out to one frightening little girl."

She tilted her head. "I don't understand… Are you saying that I look scary? Do I look like a monster?"

"…No, that's not what I'm saying. In fact, I'm sure you'll be a beautiful woman when you grow up. But Mihawk's got a scary face and attitude, and your mother, though she was a real fox when she was alive, was pretty intimidating too. You just inherited it, is all."

"But Papa doesn't look scary to me."

"Not to you, maybe. He doesn't keep that gloomy air around you. Even though we're nakama, we rarely get to see him act anything close to cheerful. You're the only one that gets to see that so often."

She took a moment to digest this and asked another question. "Why does Papa not act cheerful around anyone else?"

"I guess… your dad's had a pretty hard life, and it just settled into his personality like that. He's brought it on himself you could say, with his ambition to become the best swordsman, but it's really taken a toll on him." He stopped to ponder for a moment. "The only other person that he showed his cheerful side so often to… was your mother, Bonney."

"Hmmm… What was my hahaue like?"

"'Hahaue?' You speak so coolly of her in comparison to your father. Lets see… you're mother was a beautiful woman… and you inherited most of your looks from her. But, unlike you, her skin was dark… it was almost orange. And her hair was green. She was so uniquely bright… you also got her green eyes, even if you have your father's stare. And since she was a mermaid, she could change her legs into a tail freely, and breathe water like we breathe air. Oh, and she had sharp fangs, too. She used them for fishing apparently… it's a good thing you didn't inherit those, as well. You look close enough to little vampire as it stands.

"Add on top of that, she was a strong fighter. She was originally trained to be the 'protector of the sea', which I don't understand very well because she never explained it to us, and Mihawk never said anything if she told him. But because she joined with Mihawk and became a pirate, she was banished from the other mermen from coming back into their society."

Monique hummed and hugged her legs. "Papa said that she made nice music, and that she could sing really well."

"That's not even half of it. She was one of the best musicians in all the seas… that's why they called her 'the Siren.' She could play almost any instrument, and sing so sweetly along with it. In fact, it's been lonely without some music to float around the ship the past few years, but I guess for it to be replaced by your pitter-patter isn't half bad."

She swayed her head a bit. "Would everyone be happier if they heard music again?"

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know. I suppose so."

She stood back up and bounced off. "I'll leave you alone now, Castor-ojisan!"

His shoulders slumped. "Don't call me that! It makes me feel old!"

"But you are old, with your gray hair!" She called back.

After she'd left, he ran his hand through it his hair again. "Geez, she knows I'm not even thirty yet, and that I was born with this hair color… I think she just likes to give me grief."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Land, ho!" The yell came from above. In the distance, a mound of earth seemed to rise as the ship progressed down the waters. The cool air suggested the island's season type: autumn. If a crewman wasn't already close to the bow, waiting for the sight, he was rushing up to join the crowd in doing so. With their recent plunder, they were eager to convert their riches into cash and go out on the town. There was talk about buying booze, getting a meal at a restaurant, and getting new this-and-that since the old one was worn, or out of date, or the new ones have more features… etc etc.

The only ones that weren't participating in the joyous chatter were the ship's five-year-old daughter and her captain parent. Mihawk simply kept quiet out of habit, but Monique had no money to spend, and even if she did, no means to spend it. She was never taken onto land with the others. Instead, she was left behind on the ship with a guard, since they all agreed that it would be too risky to bring her onto wide, populated areas with so many bounty hunters and so many opportunities for past enemies to mask themselves in the masses.

The girl hummed a bit, then stood and made for the cabins. Before she could place her hand on the knob, her father called out to her. "Are you going to your mother's old room again?"

She looked back and nodded. "I wanna learn how to play her instruments so I can play music for you and everyone else."

"Really? Do you like music?"

Monique shrugged. "I dunno."

He gave a chuckle. "You shouldn't play it if you don't know how to appreciate it, Monique."

"But, everyone says—"

"Nevermind what everyone says. The music won't be good if the performer herself isn't enjoying it. The only songs that you know are the lullabies and children's songs that the rest of us can manage to remember."

"I know the songs everyone sings when they drink beer, too."

"…! Ah, Monique! You shouldn't learn those kinds of songs at your age. And you're supposed to be in bed by that time!"

"I can't help it. You all sing loud when you drink and it keeps me awake."

A light blush passed by on Juraquille's face and he coughed to cover his embarrassment. "…Definitely your mother's wit…"

When they docked the ship by some relatively deserted coastline of the island, there was a short discussion on who would stay behind first to guard the ship while others' went into town. After which, Mihawk took his daughter's hand before she could retreat into the cabins. "Come on. We're going on land."

The child looked back at him with a puzzled look. "Me too?"

"Yes. It'll be the first time you set your foot on earth instead of on a ship… or in the ocean." He tacked on the last thought hesitantly as Monique rarely went into the water either. Despite her mermaid parentage, she had trouble swimming, and she didn't seem to have formed anything reminiscent of a tail or gills… not even a single scale.

But she could walk and move freely on any floating mass, no matter how choppy or calm the waves were, and she often jumped from ship to ship if the crew engaged into sea battle (despite the multiple lectures from her shipmates to stay in the cabin). This being known, there was surprise among the men when the girl fumbled and swayed as soon as her shoe hit the dirt, tumbling down each time she stood up.

"Papa...!" She wined in a voice that wavered as much as her step. "I thought you said land was supposed to be more still than the ship, but it keeps rocking! I can't walk straight, and I feel dizzy…!"

He caught her before she could fall backwards again and supported her with his hand against her back. "It's not the land that's rocking, Monique. It's you."

"Huh?"

"Even if the seas seem very still and the anchor's down, the boat is always rocking whether you realize it or not, and you've grown used to that. Often, when someone's gotten used to the rocking, particularly if the seas have been really rough that day, they'll still 'feel' the rocking of the boat even hours after they've beached. And just like how some people fumble around when they get onto a boat from land, they might trip on the opposite."

"Yeah," Pompeius interjected from the side, "You've grown fine sea legs, lass, but you've never had a chance to get into a pair of land legs."

"Oh… I think I understand…" Monique said softly as she swallowed and grabbed onto her father's pant leg. He grunted an amused sound from his throat and departed into the town, immediately towards the town center.

As they went through the streets, the crew separated into the various markets and shops on its own, and Mihawk was soon left alone with his child. She stumbled and staggered while grasping at his side, trying with all of her concentration to not fall forward onto her face. She almost did when he came to a stop by one particular street corner.

He gestured to a loudly dressed street minstrel, who sang an epic tale of a legendary sea warrior as he strummed a guitar. His case held open before him to catch the money of passersby, and inside were a few assorted coins and some crumpled bills. "Watch him and listen." Mihawk said firmly.

After she regained her composure, she did as she was told. The man sang loudly, with his mouth wide open to pronounce the syllables, and he strummed lively on the stringed instrument in his lap, telling the tale of the great sailor's struggle with a sea king. As the song progressed, she began to understand and anticipate the notes, and by the end of it was humming along and quietly singing the chorus along with the performer. She looked up to her father wide eyes and bit her lip, wanting an explanation for what she just experienced.

He answered her unspoken question. "That's music, Monique."

"But it's really different from the drinking songs and the children's songs."

"That's because it's a lot more complex than either of those. You have to listen to a lot more music to understand any of it. There are many different kinds and styles of music."

"Really?"

"Mhm. And just like how no two swordsmen fight exactly the same way, no two musicians play the same way. Do you understand?"

"I… think so…"

"It's a lot to take in. I'm going to show you some even more complex music. This island's capital is quite proud of its opera house… I'm sure you'll enjoy whatever they might have playing tonight."

Mihawk of course told one of his crewmen that he saw during the day that he and Monique would not return until after nightfall, since the opera was an evening show. No hunters had bothered him yet, and he was able to lead his offspring through the city in peace. Monique, however, still tripped and stumbled even though several hours had already passed, but she was at least able to walk on her own by this point.

The pirate calmly bought two tickets and escorted his child through the dark theater to find a seat. He ran through his mind quickly where the best place to sit would be, taking in the consideration that they should be close to the exit in case trouble occurs, but enough out of the way so that they wouldn't gather any attention in the first place. And, of course, his daughter's first experience had to be a good one, so they must be near the stage. He quickly settled for a few seats in the west wing: almost right against the stage, in the shadows, and with an emergency escape not three meters away.

Monique was glad to finally be able to sit down, and she slid back while she felt her head rock like the waves, and she felt a lot better when the lights dimmed, so her surroundings didn't appear to spin as much. She felt like she could sleep in the cushioned chair, but before she could be allowed to doze off, sounds rose from the orchestra pit below, and people soon walked out onto the stage.

These people had brightly colored and very flamboyant costumes, which were so elaborate and frilled, they reminded her of the pirate DonQuixote DoFlamingo and his flashy style of dress. With this in mind, she had a hard time accepting the characters at first, feeling as if they would come and attack her and her father with strange powers. But she eventually grew comfortable, and as the story progressed, and the singers showed off their voices, she became mentally involved and enveloped herself with this stimulus.

"Papa," she said afterwards while Mihawk helped her up out of her chair, "That woman with the blue hair sounded like an angel. And there were a lot of instruments playing, but not playing the same thing. And they sounded really good together."

He nodded. "I told you that it'd be more complex. Did you enjoy it?"

"Mhm! A lot!"

"Good. Now, do you think you can walk by yourself now?" He let her hand go.

The girl swayed for a moment, but tapped her feet on the ground a bit and looked up at her father again. "I think so. Are we going back to the ship?"

"Yes. It's very late by now, and you need your rest."

As they walked out of the city, Mihawk snickered to himself as he saw his daughter still veer off to the side in her steps and knock into people and objects. If she had been an adult, she would've looked like a drunkard. But the people just assumed that the child had made herself dizzy through some game, and only smiled back at her when she fumbled into them.

Even after they left the denser city area towards the cleared coast, she managed to find someone to bump into. She stepped back a little and blinked several times, apologizing immediately to the man before she took a look at him. He wore a long, black coat on his shoulders, and a sheathed long sword could be seen sticking through the tufts of his red sash. She looked up at his face, and saw that the man had bright, red hair, and scars running over his left eye.

"Ah, that's okay, little lady," he chuckled as he scratched the scraggy beard that was forming on his chin. "You must be Monique. My, you've certainly grown!"

She tilted her head, "How do you know me?"

"Shanks," her father said coolly behind her, "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm just here by chance. I wasn't actually expecting to meet you here." He adjusted his straw hat a bit with his palm. "I see your daughter is doing well, despite the living conditions. She looks a quite bit like her mother."

Mihawk folded his arms. "She's more like Bonney than like me, I'm afraid. She's even becoming involved in music."

"Oh? Maybe we can knock back a few later, and she can play some drinking songs for us!"

"…Absolutely not."

"But father…" She tugged his pant leg. "I told you that I learned the drinking songs, too."

"W-what did I say to you earlier about being up when we're drinking, Monique!" Mihawk gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw.

"But I told you that you woke me up from the singing, so I couldn't help it."

Shanks laughed as Mihawk covered his face with his hand. "She even talks down to you and flusters you like her mom did!"

He groaned. "Aye, sometimes I wonder if Bonney's living on through her."

"You wonder? I would imagine that it's proof!" Shanks laughed again and suddenly unsheathed his sword. "Well! Now that we've exchanged common pleasantries, lets get down to business!"

Mihawk reached back and pulled out his Black Sword. "Monique. Go back to the ship."

"Huh?" She switched her eyes between the two men. "What's happening?"

"Just a little quarrel between rivals." Shanks swished his sword around a bit. "Ne, Mihawk?"

Mihawk gave a nod and went into a fighting position. "To the ship, Monique."

She continued to stand in place, still confused as to what was happening. To her surprise, she was quickly gathered up by Castor and taken onto the ship.

"Ah! Castor-ojisan! What are you doing? What's happening? Castor-ojisan!" She wailed aloud before he placed her onto the deck.

"Monique," Castor said with a voice thick with caution, "That man is Red-Haired Shanks. He's a very powerful man. He and your father are rivals in becoming the best swordsman in the world."

"Really? Is he very good?"

"Just watch." He pulled the girl close to him and set his eyes forward, past the rails of the ship.

Many meters away, Shanks and Mihawk continued to stand before one another, both waiting for the other to move first. Whoever could have twitched first was uncertain, but they both exploded immediately into battle when it happened. Their moves were quick, and the sheer strength they exhibited could be seen easily by the way all forms of matter seemed to run away as they clashed. Movement after movement was matched, and both men seemed to be putting their strength seriously into the fight.

Monique's eyes widened. "Sugoi…! Someone can actually match up to Papa…"

Castor nodded slowly. "Yeah… it's pretty frightening, isn't it?"

"Mmh… I've never seen anything like it before. He was always so quick with other fighters. No one in the Marines or any of the other pirates could even come close, but…"

"Remember, Monique: Even though we're in the Grand Line, there are many strong fighters all over world, and your father is only one example of the people close to being the greatest."

The scratching of the metals against each other finally came to a stop, and the two men seemed to have rigged each other up into stance. Each had their own blade at the others' throat; the fight was a draw.

"Waah! He's equal with Papa!" Monique exclaimed and pulled herself up onto the ship railing to get a better look.

"That's how their battles always end," Castor said, "They can never beat each other, and every time they meet, they battle in attempt to break that record."

Their weapons were lowered and put away. "It seems… that we still can't get past our curse of perpetual draws," Mihawk said.

Shanks shrugged. "Knowing our luck, one of us will lose his life or something of the like before we decide who's strongest."

"Indeed." Mihawk wiped his brow lightly and crossed his arms again. "Regardless, I'm not going to wait to defeat you before I go against Sinclair myself."

"I don't expect you to… buuuut as compensation…!" Shanks threw an arm around Mihawk's shoulders. "How you invite us to your ship for a drink, eh? Come on! Let's have a party and get wasted!"

"…Alcohol and parties are really all you live for, aren't they?"

"Of course, of course! Hey, you can't talk either, Juraquille! You drink yourself in a happy stupor every time you can get your hands on enough grog to put you under!"

"I at least wait until later in the evening…"

Mihawk expected to be dealing with a bouncing child full of wonder and intrigue after Monique got onto the ship, where she was able to move freely. But the events of the day exhausted the child, and he took this as a good sign. The kid was out cold, and probably would be for the rest of the night, so a drinking party might not be too unreasonable…

"Kanpai!" was screamed through the ship, and the men from either crew joined together in getting plastered on liquor as one of the men from Shanks' crew acted as the night's musician. Laughs and smoke of cigarettes drifted through the sea breeze that came into the coast.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" Shanks teased as Mihawk drank.

Mihawk slammed the barrel-shaped-mug onto the table before him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "At this rate, we'll all have hangovers tomorrow." He commented.

"Haha, so what? It's not like a normal man could beat you even if you partied a little too hard the night before, Hawkeye! …Or is it that you don't want to deal with a five-year-old in the morning like that?"

"Eh, she's usually pretty obedient, especially if I tack on 'captain's orders' on what I tell her, and she's not a loud kid, so that's always a plus. But whenever we engage in battle with another ship, her curiosity gets the best of her and she goes roaming through the enemy's cabins. Add onto that, she inherited her mother's cleverness, so when she does get rebellious, she uses logic to back her up. Can you imagine getting talked down to by a kid like that?"

"So, she's a handful in her own little way?"

"In short."

"Hmm… Hawkeye, I know it was Bonney's request that you keep her on the ship, but really, shouldn't you consider putting her on land? She's far too young to be out on the seas, especially for the Grand Line. Yasopp, my marksman, he loves his wife more than anything, and he had a son of his own, Usopp I think his name is, about three years ago, but he left them on a small island in East Blue. He intends to go back for a year or so later, but I doubt that he'll be present for the boy's seventh birthday, or any after that. Shouldn't you consider the same, Mihawk?"

"I've thought about it more than once. But when it comes down to it, it's impossible. I have no family or friends to entrust her to, and Bonney's relations are out of the question because of her banishment from the other mermen. If I put her in a small village in East Blue as well, she might be protected as far as obscurity, but I have no guarantee that she wouldn't be revealed by her caretakers and targeted for her association with Bonney and I."

"Is there not one person on your ship that has relations willing to take care of her?"

"When it comes down to it, they're all a bunch of loners with no family that acknowledges them."

"…Maybe Yasopp wouldn't mind bringing her to East Blue with him when he sees his son next. She can grow up as that Usopp's big sister."

Mihawk made a chuckle. "With Jinbei causing trouble in East Blue with his own merman crew, do you really think Yasopp would agree letting his son be so close to a target like her?"

"…You've got a point there. But what are you going to do with her? Keep her on board and hope she doesn't stick her neck out far enough to get it sliced?"

"I've decided recently… on her seventh birthday, she should be experienced enough to live on her own without the help of others. At least, that's what I suppose, considering how smart she is. At that time, I'll drop her off somewhere… and instruct her to keep her head low. I… might have to force her to leave. I don't want to send her away if I can help it; she's really grown on me, and on my crew. She really wants to be one of us."

"…This really is bothering you, isn't it, Hawkeye? I could never imagine you as a father before, but I guess I could see it now."

"Ha, Castor commented on her making me weaker. Are you agreeing with that?"

"Nah, but it makes you seem more human, and that's what weirds me out," he said between swigs, "But I look at that girl and see that she'll grow up to be a monster just like her parents, and in that aspect, I can't imagine you weak. Hell, I could never have that kind of patience with a kid. You're stronger than me in that dynamic, at least."

"Tsh. Sooner or later, I'll prove to be stronger with the sword as well."

"Just try for it!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The harpoon pierced through the water abruptly, and a second later was pulled back out with a half-meter-long fish pierced with the rod. The fisher pulled it up to examine as she stood steadily on the ship's railing. She looked over her shoulder. "Oi! Pompeius-ojisan! This is edible, right?"

Pompeius poked his head out the door. "Ah, yeah. That's a good catch, Monique. Do you think you could get more of them?"

"Mhm. There's a whole school swimming by under the ship."

"Then try to get as many as you can. I'll cook 'em up and make a nice meal for us tonight."

"Alright, Pompeius-ojisan." She threw the fish in a basket and returned her attention to the water.

One of the other crewmembers passed by as she thrust the weapon back into the water. "Ah, Monique-chan. You're getting very adept with your mother's old weapon… probably better than she was with it."

"Mmh. After all, since she's not around, I should do her fishing, and I can't do it the way she normally did since I can't swim as well and I don't have fangs to hold them with."

"Speaking of doing your mother's work, you've gotten pretty good with your music, too. You're already better than anyone we could hire, and you've only started playing two years ago."

"Thanks," she said coolly before throwing the harpoon again, "Oh, do you know why father has been acting so strangely the past week?"

"Hmm? No, not a clue."

She thought for a moment before throwing a third fish into the basket. "I was thinking that it might have to do with my birthday coming up in a few days. I'll be seven this year. He's said nothing?"

"Ahh…" The man grew pale. "He's… he's said nothing about it to me." He scurried off.

Monique watched him run for a few seconds before looking back at the waves. "They should really learn that I could tell when they're lying." She threw the javelin again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Castor leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms high. "That Monique… she's turning into a little boy rather than a little girl."

Mihawk didn't look up from the book before him. "What can you expect? She's only known men as she's grown up."

"Hmm… but doesn't that worry you at all? I mean, what if she ends up not being interested in boys because of it? You might not get any grandkids."

"She told me once that she wanted to have kids… in fact, her exact words were, 'I want to find a strong swordsman like Papa and have a lot of children to make up for Hahaue only having one.'"

"…Somehow that's not surprising. Does she really want to fulfill her mother's obligations like that?"

"I think it's more like she knows that when Bonney died, a lot of things went with her… and since she feels responsible for her death, she thinks it only matching to compensate for her absence."

"What a mentality for a little girl to have. And she's only reaching seven this week." A silence followed. "You're not really thinking about sending her off the ship, are you?"

"It really is for the best. We shouldn't have kept her for this long, but now that she's able to take care of her self, we can hide her without worry."

"Have you thought about how you're going to get her off this ship? She's a light sleeper usually, so moving her after she's gone to bed wouldn't work. I doubt you'd want to get her passed-out-drunk. And you know that there's no way that she'll agree to leaving, even if you tell her that they're 'captain's orders'."

"I'll just have to get her off the ship by force," Mihawk said nonchalantly.

"What! You can't be serious!"

"Am I the joking type, Castor?"

His first mate felt himself move away. "But… do you really think you can harm her physically and abandon her without regretting it later, even if it is for her own welfare?"

"No, I don't, but I'm not going to let that stop me. She can hate me for the rest of her life, but at least she would be in a safer position."

Castor was quiet for a full minute before he spoke again. "You know, the whole crew has been training Monique in combat."

"I'm aware of that."

"But she wants you to train her as well. She wants to be exactly like you and follow in your footsteps. You probably know that she watches you when you train at night as well."

"…Why are you bringing this up now?"

"She told me what she wanted the most for her birthday. She said, 'I want Papa to train me to use swords.' To her, that would be the best present you can give her. But you honestly intend on using that skill, not to train her and bring her closer to you, but to force her to get as far away from you as possible. What kind of father—!"

Mihawk slammed the table and looked sharply back at Castor. "I have no choice! I want to train her! I want to teach her everything that I know! I want her to become a swordsman and to surpass me! I want that more even than becoming the best swordsman myself! But if anything happened to her because of me, I couldn't live with that. I couldn't possibly live with that kind of shame!" Mihawk's fists were shaking, and he took a moment to calm down. When his voice returned, it was much quieter. "This might be bad timing, but… I'm also thinking… about leaving you as the captain, Castor."

"…What?"

"You're my first mate, after all, so it would only be logical for you to become the captain after I leave."

"Back up! What do you mean 'leave'?"

"I mean that I'll leave the ship and raise Monique myself on land. Do you understand?"

"Ah, but… but… what about Sinclair!"

"I just told you… Monique's more important to me than my own ambitions. Even if someone like Shanks were to get the title, if it meant being able to raise my daughter, I wouldn't mind."

"C-captain…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Oi oi oi oi oi!" Pompeius yelled out with his hands before him. "Monique! Quit swinging around your father's sword! It's dangerous!"

"I don't care! I want to show Papa that I can handle learning swordsmanship!" She growled before she swung Black Sword again, trying to imitate her father's own movements as best as she would.

"Blast it, child! Put that thing down! You're father's going to have a fit if he sees you playing with his favorite weapon!"

Monique paid no mind to the chef and swung it hard again. This time, however, the swing was too strong, and she wasn't able to control it. It ended up stuck in the wall of the cabin, with her dangling off the handle, looking bewildered.

Mihawk and Castor ran out. "What just happened?" Mihawk looked at his daughter as she hung humorously from his sword. "Monique! What's the meaning of this?"

She let go and landed lightly on her feet. "I was teaching myself how to swing Black Sword since you won't teach me yourself."

"I didn't give you permission to train with my sword, Monique!"

"I don't care! It's my seventh birthday today, and you haven't even talked to me once since morning! Why won't you train me, Papa?"

"Monique, you're still too young! You're not even big enough to keep control of the Black Sword, yet. Your weight can't distribute evenly."

"But just because I'm small doesn't mean that I'm weak! I've trained hard, and I can use smaller swords until I'm big enough to use Black Sword. Plus, I'm learning a lot of other weapons, too! I've learned to use every weapon on the ship!"

Mihawk closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again and looked straight at his daughter with his most intimidating stare. "Castor. Go subdue her. Don't hold back."

Castor nearly jumped. "Captain?"

"I said go!" He growled as he pulled his sword out of the wall and replaced it on his back. The very fact that she can swing this sword at all…

The first mate swallowed and pulled out his nunchaku, inwardly cursing his captain for giving him such an order. He charged to the little girl, and slammed forward. But it wasn't until after it hit the floor that he realized she had dodged. The girl ran and picked up a wooden sword that she had been practicing with earlier, and she went into stance, pointing it at him.

The nunchaku whirled, and Castor tried to go on the offensive again, but he was again sidestepped, and he felt the wooden sword come hard onto his back. "What… what the Hell…?"

"You taught me all of your moves, Castor-ojisan… so I can predict you pretty easily right now," she said solidly, "Don't underestimate me. Please be serious, or you'll lose."

He stood immediately and attacked again, and this time his nunchaku flew more wildly than before. But she continued to dodge his advances, from time to time parrying a blow. The chain of the nunchaku wrapped itself around the wooden sword, and Monique took this as a chance to pull him off his feet and throw him. "I'm sorry, Castor-ojisan." As soon as she made him hit the ground, she bludgeoned his head with the hilt of her weapon, knocking him unconscious.

There was a gasp of surprise that came from almost every man present. This child, who had only reached seven that day, had just defeated Castor the Hail Storm, with a bounty among the top twenty in sheer amount, and one of the strongest fighters on the ship besides the captain himself. "She's definitely the captain's daughter," someone said.

"I can take care of myself!" The child declared. "I'm able to protect myself! You don't need to worry about me! So train me, already! Please, Papa!"

Mihawk calmly walked up to her, not allowing his eyes to be seen or interpreted from the shadows the brim of his hat created. Then he briskly backhanded Monique, throwing her back a bit.

Monique held her cheek and looked back at her father in shock. He had never so much as raised a finger against her before this, and to have him do so now frightened her to her core. "…Papa?"

"You say that you can fight, but can you back that up? Why don't you try using that toy against me!"

The girl shook, not expecting her own father to challenge her like this. But she nodded anyway, and moved to attack him. But before she could close the distance, he appeared behind her and kicked her forward. Her face skidded on the deck of the ship and she shook her head as she pulled herself up again. She made another attack, but this time she was simply slapped backwards.

"Don't be so cocky!" He yelled. "What makes you think that you're strong enough to be a pirate, just because you beat one of your nakama in combat?"

"Shut up!" She screamed, and she lunged again. This time, she earned her father's knee in her gut. She fell down and held her stomach in pain.

"You're not ready for this life, Monique, and you're a hundred years too early to be any match to me!"

"I said shut up!" She stood and tried again, this time getting punched into the wall.

"Monique-chan!" Some of the crew yelled out. They were frozen otherwise; they couldn't believe that they were witnessing their captain actually beating a child.

Monique brought her hand up to her head, and a stream of blood trickled down from where she hit the wall. "Damn… I can't believe this…" She stood even again and set herself before her father. "Why are you being like this? Why won't you teach me to be a swordsman like you? Why! I want to be like you more than anything, Papa! I want to be by your side and help everyone out on the ship! That's why I learned music! That's why I wanna fight! I know that Castor-ojisan lost just now because he wasn't being serious, and because I already learned his moves. If I didn't know his moves, he would have beaten me easily! That's why I need training, Papa!"

Mihawk didn't seem interested in her speech and slapped her again. "Obstinate child!"

She pulled her face back towards him after the slap and clenched her teeth. She would not allow herself to move from her spot, no matter what. She didn't understand what her father was doing to her, but she felt that if she ran crying now, her father would never take her seriously again.

Regardless, no matter how hard she tried to hold them back, tears snuck past her clenched eyelids and tangling lashes, and they poured down her cheeks, mixing with the blood that fell from her forehead. "I-I-I…. I-I just want… I want…" The wooden sword dropped from her trembling hands, and she collapsed onto her knees. "I want… to be your nakama forever, Papa." She bit into her lip to keep herself from sniveling, and gripped her fists down on either side in attempt to keep her shoulders from convulsing. Even this was in vain; she crumbled completely onto the floor and sobbed loudly. "Papa and the crew are all that I have! I don't wanna lose them just because I'm too weak!"

To a child that never felt so vulnerable and alone in her life, the feeling of someone pulling her into their arms suddenly would be immediately followed by confusion. Her now red eyes opened to see that her father had picked her up and was now almost cradling her in an embrace.

"Does your head hurt much, Monique?" His voice sounded more distant than usual.

"Uh-uumm…" She pulled up a hand and wiped her face. "I donno. Not much, I guess."

"I'm sorry I didn't prepare for you a better birthday. You should go inside and lay down for a while. I'll start training you tomorrow."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Her eyes opened wide, and she looked up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah… so you need your rest tonight. Understood?"

Though her senses were still hazy and overwhelmed, she managed a nod.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Monique strummed on the guitar and sang lightly a ballad that her mother had written years ago. The bandage on her forehead didn't seem to detract at all from her joy that she expressed so overtly through her music. Mihawk smiled at her for a moment before returning inside.

There, Pompeius sat. "She's very happy today… that you agreed to train her."

"She is…" Mihawk thought a moment. "This has to be a mistake."

"Even if it is, you're happy too, Captain. You've been grinning all morning. You're glad to have an excuse to keep her around, aren't you?"

Hawkeye laughed. "I can't deny it. Seeing her so happy makes me happy in turn."

"Ah," Pompeius agreed. "You know, everyone was surprised that you went through with trying to force her off the ship at all. And we were all frightened that you might actually succeed."

"Rest assured, I'll never try such a thing again. To raise a hand against her like that, it felt a hundred times worse than any wound I ever obtained in battle." He took off his hat and leaned back. "I just hope that I don't regret this decision later."

"Captain." Pompeius smiled. "With having that girl grow up with us for her first seven years, not one of us wouldn't protect her with our lives. We'll make certain that you wont regret it."

"Oh, that reminds me. How's Castor?"

"The boy's alright… just been cursing all morning about letting himself get beaten by a little girl. Likely, he's going to challenge her later, and end up winning this time."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You're cuts aren't controlled enough!" Mihawk bellowed. "A sword is different from nunchaku or harpoons. You must learn to control your cut!"

Monique swung again and again, trying to move as she was being instructed to.

"Incorrect! Monique, you don't understand that there is more than one kind of cut to a sword. There are hundreds of ways to cut with a blade. Skill is not only learning all of these cuts, but also learning when and where these cuts are useful. You have to build up your instinct. You have to learn to hear everything around you breathe."

She dropped stance and looked up at him. "I don't understand."

"I know you don't, but you should contemplate on what I say, for one day you will understand it completely. These many cuts, Monique, have such vastly different purposes. A cut that can slice paper cleanly won't slice steel, and a cut that can slice steel might not be able to slice paper. Do you understand?"

"…Not at all."

"You're still young yet. Now, let see your overhand cut."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Castor laughed at the little girl as she grasped onto his leg to keep from tripping around on the dirt. "Having trouble there, Sea Legs-chan?"

"Grrr… don't call me that!" Monique huffed. "I can't help it!"

He chuckled again. "Alright, alright. You just want to go to the weapons store, right?"

"Mhm! I wanna get more weapons and learn how to use them! I wanna learn how to fight with anything!"

"But you're not going to slack on your father's training, are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Or on your music?"

"No!"

"How about swimming?"

She was silent for a moment. "Swimming can wait."

He laughed again. "Who ever heard of a mermaid child that couldn't swim! A mermaid pirate, at that!"

"I can swim! Just… not very well."

"Child, the ocean should be a second home to you, by now. What a pitiful half-breed!"

"Hey! As soon as I learn these new weapons, I'll beat you again, just like when I beat you on my seventh birthday!"

"You keep saying that, kid, but you've yet to succeed. You're always welcome to try again, if you like, though! Oh look, we're here. How much money did the Captain give you to buy with, again?"

"Four thousand beli."

"…And you're going to spend that all on weapons? No candy or sweets?"

"I'm going to spend it on instruments and music, too!"

"Ah… little overachiever… Children at your age should be buying toys."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mihawk felt his lips curl upwards in excitement. He was close, very close, to his goal. He could almost taste it. "Prepare my raft!"

In moments, his coffin-shaped raft was floating out beside the ship. Its single, black sail was tucked under the cross-shaped mast, and the candles on either side glowed green, as they always did. He jumped down onto the raft lightly, not letting even a ripple form under it to betray his movement. "I'm finally within sight of the end of my ambitions! Castor! Protect the ship while I'm gone! I'll be going alone."

"Aye, Captain. But I still wish we could go with you." Castor said. The now ten-year-old Monique nodded in agreement.

"You know that I've intended to meet Cold-Steel Sinclair alone all these years. I'm going to take that title of world's best swordsman right from his fists."

"That doesn't mean that we won't worry, Captain. After all: he is the best in the world."

"By sunset, that will become 'was'," He declared, and set off, followed by many cheers of good luck.

Hawkeye reached the island that Sinclair was said to have inhabited. He brought the raft up onto the sandy beach and immediately set his eyes to search around him. He could definitely tell that Sinclair had been there, and recently, but he wasn't there now.

He sat down and decided to wait, feeling certain that Sinclair would be back soon, and Mihawk would finally get the chance to challenge him. Mihawk worked his whole life for this, and he felt his limbs shake in excitement. Perhaps it was best that Sinclair wasn't there at the moment; it gave Mihawk a chance to calm down, and it would be uncharacteristic of him to appear before Sinclair trembling, whether it was from anticipation or otherwise.

But as time passed, he didn't calm down. Instead, his excitement was replaced with this deep feeling of dread that rose in his body. Something about the air seemed foul and sinister, but he couldn't quite place his finger on how. But it wasn't coming from the island; it was coming from the sea. The breeze from the sea seemed to have been carrying some sort of dark omen with it.

When he finally realized what this feeling was, it was like a stab to the chest. The sea was carrying in, though faintly, the sounds of his men screaming, and the smell of blood. He pushed the raft back into the water hurriedly and set back towards the ship. That ship was miles into the ocean, far from any sort of help. He had to move quickly. His nakama needed his help. Sinclair would have to wait.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You must be some kind of coward to attack Hawkeye Mihawk's ship without him in it!" Pompeius shouted, spitting. "You're battle's supposed to be with him, yet you're attacking his crew instead! Pitiful!"

"Oh I don't know…" Sinclair waved around his sword a bit, apparently inspecting the nails of his wielding hand. "I know for a fact that he's no match for me, but just beating him probably wouldn't have it sink in, and killing him off just doesn't seem fun at all. So, I figured, why not show him the futility by killing off his weak crew and his kid, first?"

"Don't underestimate us!" Pompeius growled and bared his teeth. Those teeth became a wide maw before their very eyes, and scales sprung up all around his body. "I'll show you my devil fruit powers!" He bellowed.

"I've heard about your Zoan power, Pompeius Rex. The Dino Dino fruit, model Tyrannosaurus. But do you really think that you can stand a chance against my sword with your teeth?"

"Enough of your boasting!" The creature roared before it brought its jaw crashing down to Sinclair. The swordsman easily dodged it, but his movements were immediately matched with the swish of Pompeius' tail. This motion should have knocked Sinclair clear off the boat as soon as the tail hit, but instead it was the tail, severed from its owner, that went careening off into the ocean. Pompeius howled in pain as blood splattered from the stub that was once his tail. Sinclair had effectively made Pompeius cut off his own tail, and it was only the beginning of their battle.

Sinclair smirked viciously as he lowered his blood-covered blade. "You should watch where you swing that thing if you want to keep it. I wonder if you can grow it back…" He put his long sword into another stance. "Too bad I'm not going to give you the time to find that out." It only took one more slash from him as Pompeius attempted again to capture the swordsman pirate into his jaws. The cook returned to his slightly robust human form, and fell over dead.

"Pompeius-ojisan!" Monique screamed in despair, with her hand extended past Castor, who held her back behind him.

"You bastard!" Castor cursed. He gripped his fists hard around the nunchaku he held before him. "How many are you going to kill before you're satisfied!"

Sinclair pulled one of his blond curls back out of his eyes and adjusted his ascot. "Well, I was thinking about killing all of you, but he might not get the point if I don't leave at least one person alive to tell him what happened, right?" He paced forward towards Castor. "Leaving the first mate alive sounds like the best option. Hand over the child, and I'll spare your life."

"Not for my life and all the money in the world would I give you this kid, baldy." Castor spat.

The name made Sinclair scowl and self-consciously reach up to cover his bald spot. "Fine! If that's the way you're going to be about it!" He pointed the tip of the sword towards Castor's throat.

"Castor-ojisan! Don't do this for me! Please!" Monique cried, "Please, Castor-ojisan!"

He didn't look back at her. Instead, he answered her softly and resolutely, "Monique. You've grown up these past ten years in our presence. Pretty soon, you'll be an adult as well, and not a single man on this ship would hesitate to give up his own life just so you can grow and become that adult. You might be Mihawk's daughter, but we all feel like you belong to us. And we all feel responsible for you."

"Castor-ojisan…"

The Hail Storm attacked, mentally betting his entire life on trying to kill this man. He pushed every muscle he could into his speed and his attacks, trying with all his effort to land a hit on this man. But this pummeling speed and strength of his, that was before so rarely matched, was laughed at by the fighter before him.

As if mocking him, Sinclair dodged left and right, commenting that he was too slow. Castor finally felt contact occur with the nunchaku… they had hit the handle of the blade. Half a second later, he realized that the blade itself was buried in his chest.

"I…failed…" He coughed out some blood with his last breath, and was thrown off the blade onto the side of the cabins. He slid down to the deck, leaving a trail of blood on the wooden wall.

"Castor-ojisan!" Monique ran to his side, tears pouring out by the plenty. "Castor-ojisan! Castor-ojisan! Please say something!" She shook his shoulders. "Please!"

"Are you going to cry over your nakama, little girl?" Sinclair said mockingly. He licked a bit of blood off of his blade. "Don't worry, you'll get to see them again in Hell pretty soon."

She bit her lip and picked up the wooden sword her father had been training her with, and stood before the advancing figure.

"Oh? How cute. You decided to follow their footsteps and greet your death. Ah, children are such naïve little fools."

"Stop!" A shout came from behind. "Don't you dare harm her!"

Sinclair slowly turned his head to the owner of the voice. "So you finally came. It took you long enough to figure out what was happening, Hawkeye Mihawk."

Juraquille looked over the bodies again. Each of his crewmembers was there, lying motionless on the deck. Even if a one were still alive, with these wounds, he wouldn't be for long. The only one still standing other than Sinclair was his Monique, who didn't seem to be harmed, but shook violently from what she had just witnessed.

"How dare you do something so cowardly as to attack my crew while I'm gone!" Acid dripped from Mihawk's voice, and his eyes pierced through the man they set on like a hot nail.

"I didn't attack them out of fear of you, little swordsman." Sinclair tucked another fallen curl behind his ear. "I attacked them to show how pointless it is to attack me. You are no match for me, and I'll teach you that in showing you how useless you are in protecting your own people."

"Don't joke with me!" Mihawk launched himself across to Sinclair, his Black Sword already ready for combat. Sinclair had to take a step back to parry the blow with his own sword.

Sinclair smirked as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "Don't be in such a rush for a fight! You haven't yet learned true hopelessness!" He pushed Mihawk back with a forward thrust and pulled the sword back again. "Let me show you what real power is like!" He made another slash, this time one that severed into the deck of the ship and past towards the boards under Mihawk's feet. The move itself wasn't all that amazing to Mihawk, but the controlled power that he saw in it made him wonder if the light from the setting sun was playing tricks on him.

This time, it was Sinclair on the offensive. He brought down strike after strike to Mihawk, but Mihawk was able to dodge them and block them well enough. Hawkeye's thoughts went to how to get his own slash in between Sinclair's attacks, but something didn't settle right. It seemed too easy to be able to block his attacks. Perhaps he was aiming for something else…?

Sinclair pulled back again and readied his stance for a strong overhand slice. This was a red flag to Mihawk; Sinclair was obviously feigning, but if that's so, how does he intend to strike? Is he opening himself on purpose to have Mihawk attack first? Or was there something else he was aiming for?

The twitch of Sinclair's ligaments underneath his right arm betrayed his intention, but perhaps too late. Mihawk lunged to stop the attack from reaching its target. "Monique! Run!"

The child barely heard the warning when the strike was brought down on her. The slash cut straight through her wooden sword, into the mast above her, and the deck below her. A second later, a slash of blood that mimicked the blade's own cut sprayed from the little girl's chest, and she crumbled to Sinclair's feet.

"Monique!" Mihawk screamed, still running towards her.

Sinclair looked back at Mihawk. "Gotcha'."

The boards of the ship all seemed to split at once, including the one's under Mihawk's step. Sinclair was aiming for the ship all along, using it as a tactic of confusion. As Mihawk fell downwards into the bow, Sinclair made his assault. Mihawk was in no position to parry or dodge, but his reflexes managed to kick in, and his arms shielded his face and body.

He landed roughly on what was once the bilge of the ship. He took no time in standing up again and picking up his sword, despite the shooting pain in his arms. The ship that he had sailed in for so many years was nothing more than a conglomeration of planks now, floating on top of the sea along with spots of corpses.

The sky had gotten dark by now with the onset of night, and any hope of moonlight was blocked by the formation of dark, stormy clouds. The famous Grand Line weather was changing again. A terrible storm was brewing, and a destroyed ship like this would have to be the worst place for a wounded man to be.

"Lucky, aren't we?" Sinclair said, floating atop some boards himself several meters away. "That you would be able to come out of that attack with your life. But don't be too cocky just because I've been underestimating you. With your arms like that, there's no way that you'll be able to handle my attacks now." He made another slash. Mihawk brought up his sword to block it, but the force strained his already wounded muscles. His arms shook. The slash after that threw him back into another group of boards.

The waves threw the boards underneath him and crashed over onto his body. But all he could hear was a heartbeat. He thought, at first, that he was hearing his own heartbeat, but he felt the pounding of his own blood in his head, and it wasn't nearly as fast or close to the same rhythm as this heartbeat. He looked around, trying to find the owner of the heartbeat, and saw his daughter, lying on a chunk of deck. She was at least ten meters away, so it shouldn't make sense to be able to hear her heartbeat. But it was hers, certainly. "Monique…you're still alive…"

He pulled himself upright, and moved his hand to his sword again. Sinclair at that moment returned into his senses. Something in his mind told him to dodge to the right, and he did, narrowly escaping another attack. What was happening? Why couldn't he focus on anything?

His perception became normal all at once, and he saw that the storm had already started. The wind billowed into his ears, and the rain obscured his vision, but at least he could see what was going on. Sinclair was in the distance… and he had discovered that the child was still alive, too. He held her high by the throat in one hand before tossing her into the churning sea.

Mihawk ran again, surprised that he was even still able to make his body do what he wanted it to. He went past Sinclair, faster than even Sinclair could perceive, and stopped at the edge of the deck section, holding his hand out to Monique. But the girl was already dragged out too far by the current to grab his hand, and he saw the waves envelop her.

"Shouldn't you be more focused on your fight with me?" Sinclair shouted. He meant to bring down another blow, but it was dodged. Effortlessly.

Hawkeye Mihawk stood by the side of Sinclair's blade. "How did I allow this fight to go so long?"

"What? Are you trying to be cool even now?" Sinclair sneered. "Haven't you learned yet that you're no match for me!"

Sinclair's next attack was not able to meet its mark. Instead, it left him open for Mihawk to knock his weapon out of his hands. The man with the title of world's greatest looked flabbergasted, but he set his teeth and pulled out a second sword. "No matter! I always have more than one sword to beat my opponent! Now die!" His next attack seemed only more pitiful. The sword met the Black Sword, and Sinclair found himself sliding past his opponent.

Instead of leaving his back open to Mihawk, Sinclair made a desperate vertical slice. But Mihawk was not there to receive it. Sinclair stood erect and looked around. "What?" It seemed as though Mihawk had disappeared.

Mihawk burst into view again before him, and Black Sword cut into the man's flesh. Sinclair fell back, his second sword also thrown off into the distance. The tip of Black Sword hovered not a centimeter above his throat.

"How did someone like you with no talent become known as the world's best? You're nothing!" Mihawk growled.

The situation dawned it its entirety to Sinclair, and he knew that the depths of despair that he had promised to show this man had been put upon him instead. "This power… where did you get this immense power? How are you so much more powerful now than when this fight began?"

"This power was always here," Mihawk stated, "but the illusion that it wasn't is gone. And so is the illusion that you ever had power."

Sinclair's eyes widened. "W-wait! Please, spare me! Please! I'll do anything! Just let me li—"

The last blood to be spilled that evening soaked into the torn remnants of the ship as Mihawk pulled his sword out of the late Sinclair's neck. He exhaled, and all of his pain and exhaustion came back to him. He had just reached his goal; his dream and ambition. But he didn't waste any time thinking about it. Black Sword clanged onto the boards and Mihawk jumped into the lawless sea. The only thing he thought of was finding Monique.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It all seemed tedious anymore. Mihawk collected on the bounty on Sinclair's head, and immediately his achievement was recognized by the world… and by the bounty posters. It now seemed like every hunter, marine, and second-rate swordsman was getting in his way.

Of course, when coming from his latest rampage of another island's villages, the merman pirate's sudden appearance didn't help. "What do you want, Jinbei? I've not been in a good mood for the past few months. You aren't here on some delusion of killing off any of Bonney's remaining ties, are you?"

The White Shark only laughed off the human's caustic words. "I'm not here to start a quarrel with you, Mihawk. I came here to ask you something… The World Government can't really handle the Pirate Age, and the Marines have their hands full from it. So, they decided that the best thing to do—"

"They decided to have government-sanctioned pirates, didn't they?" Mihawk finished. "I always expected it, since pirates are becoming an equal entity in regards to the World Government."

"…You really are the perceptive one, Hawkeye. They're putting the word out to the strongest pirates in the world… the ones with the highest bounties and the worst collateral damage, of their deal. The deal is your bounty gets called off, and the government does not interfere with your plundering as long as you keep your hands off World Government countries… and give them a piece of the action, of course. Sound like a good deal, eh?"

Mihawk didn't seem amused and wanted to get to the point. "They're considering me for this?"

"Well, why not? After all, you are now officially the world's strongest swordsman. They're not accepting any more than seven people, and they prefer them to be without their pirate crew when they join. So I left East Blue to Arlong and came here to the Grand Line to accept. But you are already alone; you're perfect for their plans. You should consider it… It would at least get a lot of people off your back while you do your little search for Bonney's daughter, right? They might even be willing to give up records if she shows up on any World Government shores."

Mihawk's eyes narrowed. "You know of that?"

"You've been asking if anyone had seen her at each island you've come to, haven't you? A little girl with dark hair and green eyes, right? This is another thing for you to consider, Hawkeye. If we're on the same side, I can also use my influence to keep any merman hatred towards her mother affecting her as well."

"To send you here of all people to give me such an offer… Fine, I will accept. But do not think under any pretense that we're allies, whether the World Government wants to put us in the same system or not."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It'd been over a year since he started the damn search, and he finally got sick of it. His position did indeed allow him access to any Marine intelligence, but they didn't enlighten him at all, leaving him to have to search through the "barbarian" countries that did not associate themselves with the World Government. But one last island of Xenophobes finally set him over the edge.

When the elder of their civilization announced to him that all bodies of outsiders, whether living or dead, man or child, were burned and their ashes scattered when they washed up on their shore, he felt sick. They justified it with their superstitions, saying that all outsiders were possessed by devils. He felt rage for a moment, thinking on the possibility that his Monique might have been burned alive on this island, but before he indulged the urge to genocidally massacre these people, reason stepped in. With Monique's wound and difficulty swimming, it was unlikely that she would have even come up on such a far shore alive in the Grand Line, not to mention how much more unlikely it would be for her to still be alive. Besides, he would have been no better than them.

When his anger subsided, he became aware that the children of the village, who were out of sight, were making a racket in doors. He could hear their struggling and screaming with the women inside trying to contain them and calm them down. He wondered on this aloud, and the elder promptly answered that the children shared the same viewpoint as their parents, and that they had to be restrained, lest they get themselves hurt. This answer disgusted Mihawk even more, that they would have corrupted their children with this nonsense as well, but he satisfied himself with killing that narrow-minded elder before gladly casting off from the island.

This series of events put Mihawk in an even worse mood than he already was. He might have been cleared of the minor annoyances of bounty hunters and the Marines, but his boredom would only be relieved shortly by a kid trying to make a name for himself every once in a while. Now, it seemed like every swordsman he met was unskilled and untalented in respect to his own sword. They all depended on strength and power alone. They were all preoccupied with making the edge cut their target as deeply as they could.

But he felt his spirits rise when he saw a familiar Jolly Roger fluttering on the mast of a large pirate ship: a skull with two swords crossed behind it and three red lines across its left eye socket. Mihawk smiled. Even though it had been six years, he could remember Shanks' skill clearly, and he couldn't imagine that Shanks would allow himself to get rusty.

As soon as his raft was in sights, the pirates that surrounded the ship started to scatter. Number one priority became to find their boss and tell him who was approaching. It gained the Red-Haired captain's attention soon enough, and the man was on the beach to greet Hawkeye, his black coat fluttering with the breeze. "Yo, Hawkeye. What brings you here?"

"I'm simply wasting time," Mihawk said nonchalantly, "It's not like this is the first time we met unexpectedly. Maybe now that Sinclair's dead, our curse of draws will be lifted." Something rang in Mihawk's memory; even though Shanks didn't change all that much in the past six years, something seemed terribly off. At first, he thought it was the missing straw hat that he always wore, but he realized that underneath that long coat, there was nothing underneath his left shoulder. "Your arm, its…"

"You noticed pretty quickly, Hawkeye." Shanks grinned wider. "You're always too quick, you know that? Well, it's not like we can't still fight."

"Don't give me that!" Mihawk growled. "You were always a left-handed swordsman! Your strength and skill has been diminished substantially from a loss like that."

"Yeah, you're right." Shanks shrugged. "But it's not like we didn't agree last time we met that something like this would happen, right? Hey, I also heard that after you killed Sinclair, the World Government got you to be one of their 'Shichibukai'. Is that right?"

"That is correct."

"Then let's go drink to celebrate, huh? Hey, there's no way you're going to get out of a party this time. You just said that you came here out of boredom!"

"…It's not even four o'clock."

"Don't worry about it! Geez, you can be such a damn stiff sometimes, Hawkeye!"

The pirates quickly took over the local bar and dried the joint up of all its sake and liquor. They all partied loudly as usual. Shanks was always too damn casual about everything.

"Hey, I've got a story for ya', Hawkeye!" The scarred pirate announced. "A couple of years ago, I went to this small village in East Blue as a base, right?"

"…East Blue? What were you doing there?"

"Ah, remember how I said Yasopp was going to live with his kid for a little while? We went over to pick him back up and decided to just stick around East Blue for a couple of years since it was nice and peaceful. Aaaanyway, we started hanging out at this place called 'Party's Bar', its owner was this girl Makino. And this snot-nosed kid kept coming in to eat meat and drink juice. His name was Monkey D. Luffy."

"'D', huh?"

"Yeah. He sure was an interesting kid. He kept doing these stupid and funny things, trying to convince us that he was ready for the pirate's life at his age. Get this: when trying to prove that he wasn't afraid of pain, he stood out on our figurehead and stabbed himself under the eye. He had to get stitches and got a nasty scar.

"Most of the things the kid did was harmless, but he did cause us some trouble. He accidentally ate a Gomu Gomu fruit we were going to sell and turned into a rubber man, so that cost us some money. Anyway, to the point, some bandits came in and tried to start trouble. The guy just ended up breaking some glass and spilling sake everywhere, but Luffy was upset because I didn't fight them and ended up getting himself in trouble by trying to stick up for me in front of these guys while I was off on the sea. Long story short, this bandit guy takes Luffy out to sea and kicks him in the water, then gets his own ass eaten by a big fish. The fish was going to eat Luffy, too, but I got there in time to save him. Lost this in the process, though." Shanks pointed at the stub of his left arm with a grin on his face.

"And this doesn't upset you?"

"Nah. It's just an arm, after all."

"…You would feel that way about it."

Shanks ignored the comment and continued with his story. "When I left, that crazy little kid declared that he was going to find One Piece and become King of the Pirates. So, I gave him my favorite hat and told him to give it back to me when he became a great pirate. Heh… that kid really has spirit. He'll really be something when he grows up."

"You almost seem happy that you lost your arm."

"Nutty, isn't it? I guess my luck doesn't help me all the time. You seem to have been doing well, though. You get the title of world's strongest swordsman, and the Marines off your back to boot."

Mihawk didn't respond for a few minutes and only drank, but suddenly he broke his silence with a loud, almost deranged laugh.

"Wha? Hawkeye, are you feeling okay?"

Juraquille put a hand on his forehead and calmed himself down. "I just realized how much I envy you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Several years passed. Many of the Shichibukai used their position in this time to pursue their own goals and gather their own forms of influence otherwise. Crocodile was well underway with his plans in Alabasta, and DonQuixote DoFlamingo was already gaining some dependable arms in his "new age" pirates, to name a few. But Mihawk didn't really seem to care anymore. He simply let the current take him and slept, from time to time raising Hell for his own amusement.

Today he decided to rest again, this time floating out closer to the opening end of the Grand Line. The days have really been lazy these past few months. Something was bound to stir up soon, but right now everything just seemed to be standing around waiting for that something. He dozed off with his hat pulled down over his eyes and his arms crossed, sitting back in the one seat of his raft.

Mihawk pulled the bundle away from his shoulder. "Damnit! She threw up all over my jacket!"

"That's why most people put a rag over their shoulder before they burp their kids, Captain," Castor said between chuckles.

"How the Hell should I have known that? Just hurry up and get me something to clean up this mess with!"

The waves made the raft lean a bit to the left.

"Safe travels, Shanks-ojisan!" She yelled out from the boat.

Shanks rubbed his forehead as the last leg of the hangover subsided. "Ah, don't call me something like that! It makes me feel old!"

"But you are old!"

"What! I'm only 23!"

"That's 18 years older than me!"

"What kind of logic is that! Your father is older than I am."

"Papa's old, too! He even sounds old!"

Mihawk groaned as Shanks now started to snigger. "Monique, you shouldn't act up in company."

"But Pompeius-ojisan said that you sound old, too!"

"What? Damnit, Pompeius!" Mihawk shot his glance over to the cook, Shanks now roaring in laughter. "Where do you get off? You're two full decades older than I am!"

The sound of a ship's sail ruffling in the wind came from the distance.

"Do you want to rest, Monique?" He looked down at his daughter as she panted and wiped the sweat pouring off from her brow.

"Nu-uh…" She shook her head and gulped. "I wanna keep going until I get the cut right…"

"You don't have to rush it. You have plenty of time to learn it."

"But I don't wanna put it off…" She gripped her practice sword hard and got back into stance.

"Very well, if that's what you wish. But don't try the Iron Door strike this time. Try a free strike."

Another sail's billowing can be heard, and two more after that. A lot of ships seem to coming together… An armada?

"It's always a lot more fun to drink when there's someone singing, right Boss?" Castor looked over with a wide grin.

Mihawk waved away the comment. "I guess it's okay since she's going to be up anyway."

"Shave his belly with a rusty razor, shave his belly with a rusty razor, shave his belly with a rusty razor earliy in the mornin'!" Monique sang loudly.

Pompeius laughed. "'Drunken Sailor' always was one of my favorites, and she sings it far better than any of us."

"Put 'im in the bed with the captain's daughter, put 'im in the bed with the captain's daughter, put 'im in the bed with the captain's daughter earliy in the mornin'!"

"Monique!" Mihawk's face turned a deep crimson. "Watch what you're singing!"

The galley exploded in guffaw. "Look! The captain's head's more red than a strawberry!"

"Yeah, you sure as Hell don't see that everyday!"

The approaching ships creaked under their own weight as they sailed.

"He's definitely at that island," Mihawk said as he walked up the plank onto the ship. "I'll finally have my chance to battle Cold-Steel Sinclair."

Castor stood. "So hoist anchor and set course?"

"Correct. We're going there immediately."

Pompeius shook his head and laughed. "I just want to wish you luck before you go, so that we'll still have a captain at the end of the day."

"Papa doesn't need luck, 'cause he's the best. He'll definitely win." Monique swung her legs around as she drank her juice. "Ne, Papa?"

The shadow of the first ship was passing over his raft.

"Oh my god! He really did kill the elder!"

"Don't worry. That bastard outsider is leaving. His boat has already set off."

"Yeah… it's a good thing that only the elder died."

A woman's howl of pain came from inside one of the dwellings, and a second later, a child sprinted out towards the coastline.

The men rushed inside. "What happened?"

The woman held her bloodied hand. "That demon possessed girl bit through my hand!"

"What? How could a child's teeth do that?" He took her hand to investigate the puncture wounds.

"Oh, its true! All outsiders are possessed by devils, even the children!" The woman wined. "The elder was trying to purify her, but that pirate's murdering him… it must have made that demon in her awaken."

The child reached the beach, blood and tears staining her face. "Take me off this horrible island! Please!"

A rough jar slammed Mihawk right out of his dreams. One of the ships passing by had hit his raft and interrupted his nap. Displeased, he looked up at the flag to try to identify that the ship belonged to, and recognized the Jolly Roger of Don Krieg. He skimmed through his hazy memory a bit and recalled that this pirate is worth 17 million in the East Blue and was known for his command over 50 ships.

He pulled Black Sword off of his back and thought for a moment aloud, "Well, since they decided to wake me up, I might as well amuse myself." He only needed to swing once, and the ship before him crumbled into pieces. Chaos broke out, and as the men scurried in attempt to figure out what was going on, he took out each ship, one by one. To add onto the confusion, the Grand Line's infamous weather began to change, and a storm came in.

The ships broke formation and scattered in attempt to get away from whatever was destroying them. Mihawk simply slashed the ones in his way into splinters, aiming for the giant galleon, the mother ship. As he came closer, he could see their faces, and they could see his. He recognized Don Krieg among them in his garish armor. The men just stared at him, mortified. They felt as if they were looking straight into the eyes of Death.

But, it seems that the storm ended up on Don Krieg's side and kept Mihawk just enough at bay to where it was able to run. But the swordsman didn't take this as a disappointment; he merely finished off any remaining ships and continued to trail that galleon.

"To think that they would actually be able to escape." Mihawk returned Black Sword to his back. "How interesting… Perhaps I'll follow them. Their luck might prove to be very entertaining."

---

Nakama – Partner/friend/comrade. A very close relationship that's hard to translate… and a very common word in One Piece.
-ojisan – "Uncle".
Hahaue – Mother (used in a very formal and almost archaic manner).
Sugoi! – "Amazing!"
Kanpai! – "Cheers!"

If Oda-san decides to do a background on Mihawk later on in the story, I won't take down or change this story, but I might do another one-shot in respect to it. I named Bonney after Anne Bonney, an actual female pirate. "Monique" simply seemed like a nice French name that sounded like something someone named "Juraquille" would name a kid. Sinclair is from Lupo Sinclair, a famous Italian rapier-fencing tutor today. And I was going to name Pompeius something else (Burgess), but then I found out that there's a character named Jesus Burgess.
The "voice of God" thing is an allusion to the fact that the Japanese seiyuu for Mihawk also played Kami-sama in DBZ, just in case you didn't know.
Arg! I realized after having this thing up for a while that I didn't have some of the time periods properly separated. If ffnet just had bloody paragraphs, I wouldn't have this problem!