Hey everybody,

so today we gonna join Mihawk on his journey and meet somebody from his past (and yes, I know you already know, who this is, just let me have my fun^^')

I hope you'll enjoy it ^^

See you friday ;-)


Chapter 41 - Names

-Mihawk-

"Good morning, your Lor... But please wait... You can't just..."

"Out of my way."

"I beg you, your Lordship, this is the..."

Mihawk opened the door. The nurses and soldiers who had tried to stop him, as well as the people within the room, all froze as he entered.

But his gaze was placed on the pale man, who sat in an equally white bed in a white robe. The once full raven-black hair was sparse and grey, the once carefully combed and twirled moustache was replaced by a rough multi-day beard, the once cool dark eyes were dull and yellowed, the once muscular and stiff body was haggard and gaunt.

So this was supposed to be the once-respected Vice Admiral, a defender of justice and a former contender for becoming the next Fleet Admiral? Well, such golden times had passed almost thirty years ago, before that man had lost wife and daughter, as well as pride and dignity.

Dracule Gat was a shadow of his former self and Mihawk had no regrets about not seeing him for years. It was below him to witness such a pitiful decline. This man was a disgrace to his mother's name.

"My son." Even his voice had nothing of the former authority, of the undisputed respect that this man had instilled on Mihawk in his childhood. It resented Mihawk that this man's blood flowed through his veins.

"Leave the room."

All those present, doctors, nurses, soldiers, bowed to Mihawk's order, leaving him and the man in bed alone. He showed an almost honest smile. At least Mihawk suspected that this was his real smile, but he could not be certain, after all, he only knew the false smile of his father, which he had too gladly shown his guests.

"So, you came. I had not dared to hope..."

"Your hope is in vain. I am just tired of you sending your dog after me."

With his arms folded, Mihawk walked through the room.

"Believe me, my son, would I be in a state of being able to travel, or if you were in a state of mind that I could have contacted you, I would not have had to burden Nataku with..."

"I did not come here to talk about this hound dog, just to tell you to stay out of my affairs."

"My son, I beg you, could we at least..."

"Just because your blood flows through my veins, it does not mean I am your son. I lack the time to waste for a conversation full of small talk and hypocritical courtesy, is that clear enough?"

Now he stood right in front of the old man's hospital bed, wondering if only the tons of alcohol were responsible or whether this man was the likeness of his own future. His father sighed heavily and leaned against the raised headboard.

"Yes, that was very clear," Gat replied, looking at him with his pathetic tired eyes, "but if this is to be the last conversation we are going to have, could you please at least sacrifice a few minutes?"

For a moment they both remained silent, then Mihawk clicked his tongue and raised both hands. With long steps he approached the visitor's chair and sat down, crossing his legs.

"Well. After wasting so many useless days I can probably waste few more minutes of insignificant exchange. What do you want to talk about?"

"Too kind," the old man muttered, laughing hollowly. Even the laughter was alien to Mihawk but reminded him of the false laughter when guests had visited. "It has been a long time since we talked to each other. How have you been, my son?"

"Better after I leave this base behind."

"Could you at least maintain the farce as if you were trying to have this conversation? Since you are unwilling to show me the respect I deserve as your father."

Simultaneously, they clicked their tongues, dissatisfied with the course of the conversation, and incomprehensible about the respective behavior.

"Nataku says you are dying, but for a dead man you are talking quite a lot in my opinion."

The old man laughed softly.

"And you speak quite unbridled for the education I have given you. I cannot remember ever condoning such disrespectful behavior."

"Oh, my dear Lord Father, you forfeited this respect long time ago and I am too relenting to forget."

Cold they looked at each other, then Gat raised a hand giving in.

"As you wish. Who am I to rebuke the rightful heir of the Dracule family?"

"Yes, who are you indeed?"

The old man's false smile froze for a fraction of a second, but he was too well-educated in political machinations to let it be noted for longer.

"Anyway, no, I am not dying, even if it may disappoint you. My body no longer works as it should, but it still works. Soon I will be better, and I will at least be able to resume my advisory and supervisory activities."

Mihawk did not respond.

"But you do not care, do you?"

"Why should I feel sorry for a fool who had the folly to ruin his own body like you did?"

"When I feel better," Gat continued, as if Mihawk's words did not bother him, "then I would love to meet Lady Loreen."

"And I will prevent this by all means."

Now for the first time, the old Vice Admiral openly showed an almost sadly surprised facial expression.

"Do you hate me that much?"

Mihawk smiled coolly. "Oh please, you are not significant enough for me to waste any kind of emotion on you. And while we are already at, I think I have wasted enough time on this pointless conversation. So, I will now come to the real reason for my visit."

He rose.

"As you wish," replied the old man, straightening his back, a faint reminder of his time as a simple cadet.

"I came here to make it clear that neither you nor Nataku have any say in my life, and if you send him after me again, I will take the liberty to make him pay."

"My son, is that not...?"

"None of you are welcome to me, have I made myself understandable? I have no interest in whether you live or die, and if that is supposed to cost me my legacy, so be it."

Gat just looked at him for a few seconds before nodding: "Although I deeply regret the development, we both know that I cannot withhold from you what is rightfully yours. I only married into this family, but you are a true Dracule. After Taruchie's and Sharak's death, the last one. I was just the official administrator of the islands until you turned twenty, since that day you are Lord of the islands and there is nothing, I could do about it."

"I have no interest in the islands. If you or Nataku want them, I do not care."

Now the old man shook his head.

"It is sad how little your name - your mother's name - means to you. Offering your heritage like an old horse. Ignoring our differences, I always thought you were proud to be a Dracule."

With his arms crossed, Mihawk turned to the window.

"Maybe I have come to realize that there are more important things than a few randomly arranged letters."

"That is hard for me to believe. Is your strange change of heart due to this Lady Loreen?"

He did not respond, but looked at the courtyard of the fortress, where several hundred cadets practiced swordfighting more badly than right. It hurt his eyes to see them waving the heavy metal lumps through the air like barbarians waving their clubs.

"I must confess that at the beginning, when I heard about this Lady Loreen, I feared that she was only interested in you because of your name and heritage."

"Like Nataku?" Mihawk commented disparagingly.

"Well, a nice girl that knows how to behave. I heard she works now with Rishou Eizen, while still being almost a child, and your social intelligence has always been somewhat lacking. There was every reason for me to be suspicious of her motives."

"Because it is so absurd that somebody could just value me for who I am, right?"

"Do not put words in my mouth, my son. Whether it suits you or not, you do not really try to be liked by others. But yes, I have to admit that I am slowly hoping that she will stay with you for your sake."

Now Mihawk was silent again.

"Because whether you believe it or not, even if you could not care less, I would very much like you to be happy, to settle down, and maybe even have children, and if this girl can show you this way, help you follow the right path, then I am deeply grateful to her."

With a smile, Mihawk turned away from the unfortunate attempts of fighting.

"You misunderstand the signs. I have no intend to follow the right path, more than ever I am ready to burst my chains when only the right time will come." He walked through the room but stopped. "Besides, I will never have children. Unlike you, I think it would be better for this world if not every idiot insisted on reproducing."

"You intent to let the House of Dracule die with you?"

He did not turn around.

"The House of Dracule has gone extinct a long time ago; when they became Celestial Dragons, they died out, and when Yakumo left them, he put the final nail in the coffin."

"What a sad excuse for a man of your status. Once again, I would like to oppose you. Despite all that has happened, despite all the mistakes I have made, I have never regretted being a father."

Mihawk laughed quietly, looked at the door in front of him.

"As if you had ever been a real father."

"I do not want to be offended by you any longer, instead I ask you for one answer before you will end this conversation."

With his eyebrow raised, Mihawk turned to the old man in bed.

"If I understand it correctly, you are about to give up your title as a Shichibukai and thus become a persecuted lawless again. At the same time, however, you offer this Lady Loreen home and protection. Do you even care what you would do to her with this decision?"

Mihawk could not stop a smile.

"Again, you misunderstand. My young companion is probably the reason why I am willing to change things."

For the first time, the man in bed actually reminded Mihawk of his father from his childhood. His dark, yellowed eyes were curious, almost glittering with interest and seriousness. Frowning he leaned forward so far he threatened to fall out of his bed.

"Then allow me to ask one last question to you as your father."

Mihawk remained silent and gave his silent consent.

"Are you happy with Lady Loreen by your side?"

This question surprised Mihawk. He had reckoned everything, every accusation, every request, every complaint, but everything in him was reluctant to confuse this question with honest interest.

"You need quite a long time to answer this simple question."

Shaking his head, Mihawk decided that nothing he would say to this man would be dangerous for him. Slowly he turned around and allowed himself to smile honestly for the first time.

"Tze, what a sentimental foolishness."

"Is that a yes?"

"It is what it is. I do not care for such mawkishness, but if you ask me if I am placing something above my own selfishness for the first time in my life, then yes, I do."

The man in bed smiled head-shaking before he clumsily got up, despite his emaciated condition he still stood tall and straight, was almost at eye level with Mihawk when he stood in front of him and put a bony hand on his shoulder.

"That makes me very happy, my son. It makes me very happy to know that you have found someone in this cruel and lonely world who takes you for who you are, for whom you want to act selflessly."

Apparently, men got soft in old age. Mihawk could not remember his father ever saying anything kind to him. It actually surpassed his ninth birthday when he and his father had attended a meeting on Mary Joa as the only non-world nobles, and when they had left his father had claimed that the two of them had been by far the smartest in the room.

"Do you know that I asked Sharak the same thing back then?"

He easily withstood these yellowed eyes, forgot the past, and did not allow any sentimental thought to take place.

"It also took her an unusually long time to answer, and if you smile like that, I can see her in you."

Mihawk brushed off his hand.

"I have wasted enough minutes; it is time for me to go."

"Thank you for coming."

He walked silently to the door, but there he stopped.

"I also do have a question for you," he said, looking back to the old man who was settling down on his bed again. "What does the name Roronoa tell you?"

Quietly, Gat laughed and shook his head.

"The name of an insignificant swordsman from the East Blue."

He coolly looked at the old man.

"But you probably did not mean that, did you?" His father folded his arms. "So, you combed through my library and found my records."

Mihawk did not respond. He did not know what his father was talking about, but apparently, he did have the right feeling. His father had always been a bookworm. Too wise for a Marine, too wealthy for a scholar. Since seeing the connection between Roronoa and the books, Mihawk had suspected that his father might know something, almost nothing more than a shot in the dark.

"Does it have anything to do with the true history? The void century?"

"Be no fool, my son. Any knowledge of that time is strictly forbidden and just trying to read the runes of the old times could cost your head. Did the fate of the devils of Ohara teach you nothing? As a man of the Marine and a defender of justice, I would never dare to oppose such an order."

"But you talked about your records. So..."

"I doubt it would be wise if you would try to decipher them. Some knowledge should be buried, trust me. It is better if the name Roronoa is nothing more than the name of an insignificant nobody from the East Blue."

That was answer enough for Mihawk to leave. At the door, however, the old man's words stopped him.

"I know what drives you, my son, but this knowledge is cursed. The name of this boy has been forgotten, and now that he is dead, your troubles would be in vain one way or another; nothing you may find out about his name will resurrect him, but it could cost your life."

"It is somewhat hypocritical for you to tell me this after you have made such records yourself."

"And then I discarded them and hid them in the depths of the walls of an abandoned property, where they would not do any harm. I warn you, I am well aware of why you are suddenly showing interest in that name. But it is better for everyone involved if this boy remains the only Roronoa you have ever known. Do you understand me?"

Mihawk remained silent.

"You are on thin ice, my son. This name means only mischief for you and this child. The last Roronoa is dead and that is how it should stay."

"One could almost think that you are as afraid of the name Roronoa as the World Aristocrats of the legendary D.," Mihawk said clearly, without turning around.

"You have no idea what you are talking about, my son. This knowledge could mean your death and the one of your girl. And beware of mentioning these cursed names in one sentence if you do not want to draw the World Aristocrats' attention to you or this girl in your home."

"Tze, you have always been an anxious man, but these fairy tales do not scare me."

"Yet they should. Believe me, let the past rest. Roronoa Zoro is dead and that is a good thing. If your girl turns out to be a Roronoa, she will be killed before she can fall into the hands of a D."

Now Mihawk became curious. But he knew he would not get any more answers here, not that it was necessary.

"I have nothing more to say to you. Farewell."

He left the base, leaving behind the guards and the man whose blood he shared. On board of his small ship, he reached for his old transponder snail.

"Good morning, Bosatsu here, house of..."

"Kanan", he roughly interrupted the housekeeper of his estate on Sasaki. "I need your help."

He drummed his fingers on his armrest with disbelief. In a few hours he would finally reach Kuraigana. The short detour over Sasaki had cost him more than a whole day, but the small bundle of his father's handwritten, faded notes had been worth it.

But he was not able to decipher most of it. Although he did not want to admit it, it was true that he could do little with the fully written pages, but honestly, his efforts were limited. Too impatiently, he was waiting to finally finish his journey. For too long he had not heard from Roronoa.

To his disapproval, Roronoa had not called once, and Mihawk himself had been too proud to be the first, knowing full well that such an act would bring him nothing but the ridicule of his best friend and his disciple.

But now he grew displeased. Of course, he trusted Jiroushin, trusted his abilities and judgment, trusted that he could keep any harm from Roronoa and himself. Of course, he also knew that his concern for Roronoa was purely emotional, and he was well aware that his little frog was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

He was annoyed by how irrational he felt, and at the same time he could never quite silence that concern as he tried to hide it and focused on the faded pages in front of him.

After his call, Kanan had taken a total of four days of tireless searching to find them. Eventually, she had moved a bookcase aside and broken through the wall behind it to get into the small cavity behind the fireplace. There she had torn down another wall – the remnants of a past castle on whose ruins the old Dracules had built the estate – only to find a hollow stone in the back wall of the fireplace room, in whose belly a small wooden box had been fixed with a mixture of straw and mortar.

Mihawk had to admit that it had been a shock to enter the fireplace room, even though Kanan had already spent several days working on restoring it to its original state. He also doubted that he himself would have found the wooden box in the first place. Presumably, he would have lost patience on the first evening and given up or torn the fireplace room apart.

His father had probably really tried to bury his records without destroying them directly. Ohara had undoubtedly taught him that even the most terrible testimonies of times should not be destroyed.

With a sigh, Mihawk recalled the visits to the doomed island, long ago, when he had been a child, and Ohara a place of teaching and knowledge. He remembered the day Ohara had fallen. It had been written over all newspapers, spoken of the devils and the danger that had been stopped by the World Government. His father had probably mourned for the lost knowledge, the thousands of unread words, and the genius people the world had lost that day.

Mihawk had betrayed the Marines around that time, perhaps one year or another earlier, he did not remember the exact day. He must have been around twenty, around Roronoa's age. It had barely interested him, but now he wondered what strange fate had been imposed on the child in his home.

If your girl turns out to be a Roronoa, she will be killed before she can fall into the hands of a D.

Roronoa had once told him that he had not planned to follow the Straw Hat, but things had turned out that way, and Mihawk remembered well that day in the East Blue, when he had fought Roronoa and the boy with the straw hat had also gotten in his way. Could it be a coincidence that a loner like Roronoa followed an idiot like the Straw Hat and within a few days of knowing each other was willing to sacrifice his life for him; was even willing to sacrifice his dream, which he had pursued for twenty years, only for this man?

Could it be a coincidence that the last devil of Ohara, Nico Robin, joined the same crew after they had even been enemies at first, if he remembered it correctly?

He looked at the pages in his hands.

Did Nico Robin know what the legendary D. was all about? Did she have any idea why the name Roronoa could not be mentioned in the same sentence?

Shaking his head, he rubbed his face. She had been a child when Ohara had been destroyed; it was highly unlikely that she had the answers he was currently looking for. If he was honest, Mihawk was not really interested in the well-known D., even less in the true history or, more generally, anything concerning the Celestial Dragons.

But when Roronoa had been able to read the books, the books that his father had collected on his countless journeys and that Ohara's researchers had supposedly not been able to decipher, Mihawk had feared that things would become bothersome.

And his father had only confirmed his worries. It had been nothing more than a clue. Too many coincidences had made him suspicious. The books with the unreadable script and Roronoa, who had risen from the dead and could read these books. A nameless past but a name associated with the forgotten history. To top it all off, it seemed that those who knew at least something about the true history would want to prevent a Roronoa from falling into the hands of a D.

So what did that mean for Roronoa and his captain, and why had this crew been allowed to go their way for so long? Why had no one during the riots in Alabasta already, no, why had the World Government not intervened when the name of the Demon of the East Blues had first appeared?

But the answer was obvious. Presumably only a handful of people knew about it, and if the World Government sent someone to kill an insignificant pirate hunter, it would probably have caught the attention of some enemies.

Moreover, it did not really suit the lazy nobles to act in a forward-looking manner, and the five elders did not believe in fairy tales and myths that predicted the demise of the Celestial Dragons. With a grin, Mihawk thought that the same arrogance would mean their downfall.

But he did not know if he was hoping for that to happen in his time. Of course, this would make this world interesting again, on the other hand, an overthrow of the powers sounded like much trouble.

On the horizon, the dark outlines of Kuraigana appeared, and something like relief spread through him. Soon he would be home, would see Roronoa's progress, and perhaps find out more about the forgotten history than he ever wanted to know.

But the closer he got, the more suspicious he became, and for good reason.

He could perceive Jiroushin as a light in the darkness, even though he had not even reached the island, almost making Mihawk smile. Although Kuraigana did not seem very welcoming, it seemed to lure its guest into feeling safe, so much so that they forgot to hide their own presence and look out for the presence of strangers. Skills that fighters of their quality mastered to such perfection that they used them automatically without even thinking about it; except apparently when being on Kuraigana. Accordingly, it was a little surprise to Mihawk that his childhood friend had forgotten to hide his presence. But why in God's name could he not perceive Roronoa?

Roronoa was still a beginner in the art of Haki, and to protect himself against such a developed Kenbunshoku Haki as Mihawk had mastered it, even the best found it difficult, not to mention the high degree of concentration and thinking that this skill required.

Of course, Mihawk did not worry that Jiroushin had killed Roronoa, but even as Loreen, Roronoa could not completely hide his presence, even though he was not so clearly perceived. Did he underestimate Roronoa again?

No, he certainly did not. Even if they had started to train this skill right after Mihawk's departure, Mihawk would have to perceive him at least if he consciously focused on it.

At last he was close enough to be able to bridge the distance to the mainland with a courageous jump, trusting that his boat would no longer need his lead for the last few meters. Quietly, he hurried through the familiar forest, able to hear Jiroushin's calm voice from afar, but not to understand his words. When he reached the edge of the trees and saw only the ruins in front of him, he froze.

"What in heaven's name...?"

Between the ruins stood Jiroushin, opposite to him was Roronoa, and by his eyes Mihawk immediately realized why he had not been able to feel his presence.

For there stood not Roronoa, but the demon.