Hey everyone,

uff, I'm almost running late, monday is almost over (at least where I live^^') Sorry for that. The last days have been rather busy, but in a good way. So for now I will go to bed and catch some dearly needed sleep, but I promise I will come back to read all your comments and to answer ;-)

Until then, have fun with this... let's say not as calm chapter ;-P

See you friday!


Chapter 43 - Memory

-Mihawk-

He opened his heavy eyes and glanced over to Roronoa, who only looked back with raised eyebrows and then dropped onto the opposite sofa.

"As shitty as you look, one would think I beat up you, not the other way around."

Mihawk watched his little frog as he pulled out one of the books Mihawk had given him with his bandaged hands from his far too big coat and began to read. He never understood why Roronoa, out of all the things Kanan had sent him to try on, had chosen this ugly, unfit green coat. Even in this form Roronoa was already looking like he was drowning in it, as Lady Loreen he seemed almost like a child who played with the parents' wardrobe.

"I am surprised you already came, especially in this form. Shouldn't you rest? I did not expect you to be able to transform already."

Now Roronoa looked up from his book at him with a questioning glance. After a second, he tilted his head, as if he were pondering about something.

"But you do know that I slept for more than four hours?"

Displeased Mihawk wondered what reasons Roronoa had to come up with such an obvious lie. He could not hope that such a simple lie would be enough to convince Mihawk to continue his training, acting like he already had recovered, could he?

"And I have already eaten; Perona saved me some leftovers, before she went to bed. By the way, she heard you yelling at Jiroushin and is now afraid that you, even more than... Why the hell do you keep looking at me like I'm...?"

"Oh, Roronoa. What kind of game are you playing with me? We have agreed that there is no need for lies. Tonight, we will not continue your training, even if you had slept for four hours, so..."

"Wait a second." Roronoa dropped his book and looked at him annoyed. "What kind of shit are you talking? I'm not lying. I do get that we won't continue tonight and whether you believe it or not, I'm pretty done for the day to be honest and would have gone straight back to bed if you hadn't said you wanted to talk to me."

Now Mihawk had to admit that he felt quite annoyed because Roronoa pretended to have misunderstood something. Shaking his head, he sat up a little straighter.

"But Roronoa, if that was true, it would be the middle of the night right now."

"It is," Roronoa confirmed, not as irritated as before, lowering his attention back to the book in his hands. "You're kind of out of it, you know that? It's almost two o'clock at night. So no, for once I don't want to train, at least not before the sun has risen again."

Thoughtful, Mihawk watched as Roronoa turned a page. Apparently his last conversation with Roronoa had happened more than six hours ago? Yet he had been certain that less than an hour had passed. Had the small confrontation with Jiroushin taken much more time than he had noticed, or had the few seconds in which he had closed his eyes perhaps been longer than a few heartbeats? What was going on with him?

"So?" Roronoa murmured, without even looking up. "You wanted to talk to me and here I am. What's the deal?"

Smiling, Mihawk decided to ignore the riddle of time for a moment and turned to his student.

"Actually, I just wanted to know how you have been the last few days."

Roronoa snorted quietly, flipping another page. It was a pleasant picture to watch him read, even if it surprised Mihawk that Roronoa could read and talk at the same time and if he were quite honest, it bothered him a bit.

"And because of something like that, I can't go to bed yet?" But Roronoa grinned awkwardly, obviously not being serious. "How I've been? I've already told you everything. I've learned the basics in..."

"For once, I was not talking about your progress."

Now Roronoa looked at him with big eyes.

"When I left you, Jiroushin was anything but friendly towards you and now he is all 'Zoro here and Zoro there'. I wonder what happened."

"Nothing happened," Roronoa muttered, turning back to his book, "we got along if you mean that. Jiroushin is okay, I think, and I can hardly blame him for not being able to stand me because of Senichi."

"Oh, I certainly can blame him for that."

Roronoa remained silent for a moment before continuing: "It was okay. Perona and Jiroushin got along, so she left me alone most of the time. I only had to help digging a few times, but Jiroushin and I combined that with training, so it was actually okay."

"Digging?" Mihawk asked suspiciously. He did not like any changes, especially concerning his home.

"Relax. Perona and Jiroushin just decided to revive the garden. Don't ask me why, I don't really care, but as I said, Jiroushin thought you wouldn't have a problem with it as long as Perona only changes things outside and leaves the castle as it is."

Mihawk could not really disagree with that, his childhood friend just knew him too well. He had chosen this castle as his home, but he was quite indifferent to the island itself.

"Oh, by the way, Eizen has written me a letter advising us to visit Mary Joa soon."

"And why should we do this?" Mihawk grumbled calmly. The politician's name alone was enough to remind him that Roronoa was probably keeping secrets about something that had to do with Eizen and could thus put Roronoa in danger.

"It's probably about appointing a new Shichibukai who has invited himself, or something. There also appears to be a proposal for another candidate. "

"So? Does Eizen really think that it would interest me in any way, which windy pirate is polluting this title? I do not have to tell you that I am going to leave the Shichibukais sooner rather than later."

"Just don't let Jiroushin hear that." Roronoa looked at him again. "But somehow you contradict yourself, don't you? On the one hand you say that you don't care for the title, on the other hand you don't want someone to pollute it. To be honest, I don't really get it."

Shrugging his shoulders, Mihawk got up.

"There is not much to understand, Roronoa. The Shichibukais are an important authority in the separation of powers. But of course, I oppose that some hound dogs run around carrying the same title I do. Do you think it is entertaining to sit at a table with a madman like Donquixote Doflamingo? His vain pomposity is anything but exciting and the pirate empress is in no less annoying."

"Seems to be a requirement for the title," Roronoa muttered in between.

"Please do not compare me to such commoners, Roronoa. In recent years, the cast has become more and more disappointing and believe me, I am just waiting for a reason to leave this stage. So no, if Eizen wants to be circling you, he has to come up with something better to lure me in."

"You're so annoying."

"And you are naive."

Roronoa laughed quietly: "I've never been called naive in my life."

"There is a first time for everything," Mihawk replied, leaving Roronoa back in the fireplace room.

When he came back in a few seconds later – now with his father's old bundle of documents – Roronoa sat unchanged on his sofa and read in the little booklet. Mihawk fervently hoped that he would translate this one as well soon.

"Tomorrow I will discuss with Jiroushin how long he will stay with us and then we should plan your further training." Roronoa nodded and slowly looked up to him. Mihawk settled on his armchair. "I actually wanted to discuss something completely different with you, Roronoa, even though I did not realize it was already that late."

He reached for the book that Roronoa read, and the youngster gave it to him without any objection. Lost in thoughts, Mihawk browse through a few pages – always careful not to let go of the page Roronoa was reading – and wondered again what mysteries and secrets those runes might contain.

"I have always wondered, if you can read these books here, you can read the poneglyphs as well, right?"

"No."

Surprised, Mihawk looked up.

"No? For me, these runes look identical, so why should you not be able read them?"

"They're the same characters, at least most of them, but I still can't read them. I recognize the signs, but they make no sense. They are almost randomly lined up at the poneglyphs. I've seen some of Robin's notes, but even with them I didn't understand a thing."

Roronoa shrugged his shoulders. But for Mihawk, this explained a lot.

"Of course. What would be a better encryption than to form a secret language from a dead language? Obviously, that makes so much more sense."

His little frog tilted his head.

"What are you talking about and why the hell should that be important?"

Sighing, Mihawk put the book aside and handed Roronoa his father's documents.

"Did it never occur to you, Roronoa? You can speak a dead language that was used more than 800 years ago to develop a secret language, so..."

"You're annoying," Roronoa interrupted him in his usual ruff, though non-hostile tone, "I've already told you that I don't care about this stuff."

Calmingly, Mihawk raised a hand and pleaded inwardly for patience.

"Please, listen to me. Do you know that my father tried to decipher these books once, but failed miserably? He disliked that so much that he took them to Ohara, so that those researchers could decipher them. But even they failed." Roronoa looked at him only mildly interested, while Mihawk continued: "Of course, it all makes sense now. They tried to draw conclusions from that secret language to this one you can speak. Perhaps they should have taken a completely new approach to understand it."

"And?" Apparently unimpressed, Roronoa loosened the thin thread that held the dry pages together and skimmed through them. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Well, it seemed conspicuously random to me that you can read that language, so I decided to find out what my father knows, because he has spent a lot more time with books than I will ever do."

Roronoa rose slowly and scanned the porous papers as he walked through the room.

"Roronoa, I think in these papers – those notes that my father put together over the years in painstaking legwork and then hid from the World Government – could be clues to your past, your ancestors, your heritage, and your... Roronoa!"

He jumped up and rushed over to the other, but he was too late. As if starving, the flames consumed the dry paper within an instant, crackling and bouncing.

Mihawk pushed Roronoa aside and wanted to reach for his father's records, but the fire had already turned them into ashes. He stood shocked by the blazing heat. Years of research, knowledge of passed scientists, countless thought processes of his father, all this was gone within a moment.

"What did you do?" Trembling, he turned to Roronoa, who looked at him uncaringly. "What the hell have you done?!"

He grabbed Roronoa by his shoulders, shook him as if he could retrieve the lost information this way.

"How dare you, you stupid child?! Those were the answers! Finally, you could have figured out what your name means, who your ancestors were, why you can speak this language, maybe even why you rose from the dead. Why? Why did you do something that stupid? Have you gone mad?! How shall we ever find out the truth behind your ability now? Didn't you want to know who you...?"

"Stop it." Roronoa sounded calm, almost peaceful. Quite different Mihawk, who wanted to hurl the younger one against the next best wall. "I don't care about any of this."

Coolly, Roronoa looked up to him, his face a mask of indifference.

"What are you talking about?" Mihawk whispered, hardly master of his wrath. At last he had found important clues. These pages could have contained the pieces of the puzzle that he still lacked to understand who Roronoa was, who he was in reality...

"This is not about me," Roronoa continued coldly, not even trying to break free from Mihawk's grip. "This is all about you, about what you want."

As if he had burned himself, he let go of his student.

"This is ridiculous," he said, "I know who I am, from whom I descend, whose blood flows through my veins. I bear the name of my family, the titles of my own deeds, and the heritage of my ancestors. You, on the other hand..."

"As I said, it's just about what you want." Almost in agreement, the flames flared up behind Mihawk. "This is all about you. All these things don't matter to me and you have a problem with that. You want to know all this nonsense about my past, you want to look for something meaningful in my meaningless story and it bothers you that I don't care."

Now Roronoa walked towards him, stopped a hand-width in front of him, and although Mihawk towered above him by more than one head, Roronoa seemed to look down on him.

"You are the one of us who cares more about names and titles than words and deeds, and because I want your title – and probably also because I am one of the few fucking people you kind of care for – you are obsessed with finding anything in my past that justifies that. You're looking for a shitty explanation so I'm worth being taught and respected by the oh so big Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk."

Suddenly Roronoa hit him slightly against the chest, with Mihawk not knowing whether that blow had been so weak intentionally.

"But I don't give a shit about this crap. I'm not going to defeat you because I'm some descendant of some great lost civilization, but because I overcome my limits every day and train relentlessly! I will not take your title because any blood of some noble ancestors flowing through my veins, but because I can and because I want to."

Rarely he had experienced the younger man so furiously.

"So, stop trying to explain my skills with things I can't influence. I do not accept that all the sacrifices and efforts of the past twenty years should be of less value than the blood of some dead person. Don't play down my effort and don't pretend this is about me."

Mihawk remained silent. Actually, he should be angry. Roronoa had destroyed his father's valuable documents. So why was it Roronoa who hissed at him like a wild animal? And why was it Mihawk who hardly dared to breathe?

Shaking his head, Roronoa turned away from him and walked through the room, taking the book from Mihawk's armchair and pointing it at him.

"I know exactly who I am, Mihawk, and unlike you, I do not define myself by any names and titles, but only by my deeds, whether I meet my own demands, whether I can proudly confront my reflection. But apparently that's not enough for you." Roronoa snorted loudly. "Apparently nothing I do matters as long as I'm not the descendant of some big name, right?"

"Roronoa, that..."

"Don't bother, I don't care. Go to your father and find out what you want to know, but don't think for a second, you'd get to know or understand me any better. Don't believe for one second that you're going to find out who I really am."

Almost powerless, Roronoa dropped the book back on Mihawk's armchair.

"You know, I've always been aware that you and I come from two completely different worlds and even if your overblown behavior sometimes really annoys me, that's part of you, too. I know I am too uneducated, uncultivated, and simpleminded for you, but I have always thought that you would still respect me for who I am. I've always thought you see who I really am. Tze, you think you know someone."

"Roronoa, please listen to me for a second..."

"No. I am tired. I don't want to listen to you anymore. Tomorrow morning, I will run my rounds and after that we will continue to train, and I will continue to bow to your will as my teacher." Roronoa walked to the door without even looking at him. "But as far as anything else is concerned, I don't give a fuck about your opinion."

Suddenly he looked up and this gaze scared the hell out of Mihawk. He knew exactly of what day this deep, wounded gaze reminded him. Something told him that he was about to lose Roronoa.

Then the door slammed shut behind the youngster, leaving Mihawk in the freezing fireplace room. He hardly understood what had happened, why Roronoa had lost his temper and then his trust in Mihawk, but this specific gaze, which for the first time had been meant for him, Mihawk, filled him with an unfamiliar horror.

"He is wrong," he whispered to the accusatory silence.

What was wrong with him wanting to find out more about Roronoa's past? What was wrong with trying to get to the bottom of the mystery of Roronoa's strange mother and dead language? What was wrong with him hoping to find clues about why Roronoa possessed this unique ability?

None of this had anything to do with Mihawk's respect for the younger one, and if he happened to find out that Roronoa was perhaps really a descendant of Alciel, if he were to find out why his father feared the name Roronoa so much, there was nothing more to it, right?

After all, this would not change who Roronoa was or was not. It would not change his outstanding abilities and his tireless devotion, if at all, it would only benefit him. So why did Roronoa behave as if Mihawk had betrayed him?

Why was Roronoa the one outraged? Was not he the one who had simply destroyed foreign property so irrevocably? Should not Mihawk be the one to rush furious through the castle, while Roronoa would have to apologize on his knees for his reckless behavior?

No, Mihawk would now explain to this impetuous brat who was mistaken here and who was not. After all, he had done nothing more than get some information. He had wanted to do Roronoa a favor, damn it! He had not acted out of selfishness, but completely selfless.

Of course, he had already wondered since that evening at Sasaki why Roronoa, of all people, could read these books, why Roronoa had risen from the dead, and why Roronoa, of all people, should one day defeat him. It had to be fate that Roronoa had ended up on Sasaki, that Mihawk's father had accumulated documents about these books, that he knew what the name Roronoa might mean.

If Roronoa would not act so coyly all the time and would not try to avoid every explanation Mihawk asked for, he would not have had to travel all the way to the G-2 to ask his father. No, Roronoa was fully responsible for this situation, he was the one to blame.

Why did Roronoa not tell him how he ended up being reborn in this foreign body? Why did Roronoa not tell him the true reason why he had decided to work with Eizen? Why did Roronoa decide to challenge his monster in Mihawk's absence?

He stomped furiously through the dark castle, needed only a few breaths until he stood at the youngster's room door and after another breath, he tore it open.

"Roronoa, you must apologize immediately for your..."

Despite his anger, Mihawk could not prevent from blushing when he saw the completely exposed Roronoa in front of him, who had probably just come out of the bath. Within a heartbeat, the younger man's surprised facial expression changed into cold rejection.

"What do you want? Get lost and leave me alone. I don't wanna talk to you anymore."

Mihawk urged himself to not look away, but rather to look directly at the other.

"But this discussion was not over yet, besides, this is my castle, and I can enter any room I wish."

Shaking his head, Roronoa bent down after some underpants lying on the floor.

"I thought this room is supposed to be mine and this castle is supposed be my home as well, or does this only count for the days when you are generous or for people who are worthy enough of you?" Sarcasm dripped from every word, and Mihawk grew angry again at the condescending way Roronoa spoke to him as he got dressed.

"Stop being ridiculous, Roronoa. But in a respectful argument, both sides have a right to be hear..."

"A respectful argument? Are fucking kidding me?!" Whatever garment Roronoa had just picked up, he carelessly threw it on the bed. "This is not an argument, a civilized discussion, no small dispute. You are the asshole, who messes with my past behind my back, although I have clearly said that I do not want to know about it! You are the asshole, who wants to reduce my whole life's work to the blood of some dead monarch, and when I tell you that I want to have some peace of mind, you follow me and dare to claim that I have to apologize! Who the hell of us is being disrespectful?"

Mihawk was not willing to be shamed by Roronoa that easily.

"So, first, you did not even give me the opportunity to speak, so how should I defend my point of view and appease you, except by following you? Moreover, you have not once forbidden any research concerning your past; you simply mentioned that you do not care for it. Furthermore, I have stated with no words that your achievements are less impressive just because you might descend from a special people. If anything, knowing your past could give you advantages. It could help you understand your powers and maybe you have a legacy that you must take on. That is why I think..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you just don't get it!"

Only now did Mihawk notice that Roronoa was breathing harder as he leaned against the bedpost.

„Roronoa? "

"Fuck off. I'd have to change a long time ago, that's it."

Angry, the younger one looked at him.

"Okay, so this time I will be the one to explain in very simple terms: You do not respect me. You think I'm a pretty capable swordsman and you kind of like me, but in the end, you don't respect me. I don't know if it's because I'm younger, or because I don't know how to behave, or just because I don't bow and scrape to you, but it seems to have something to do with the fact that I don't have the same background as you. You really want me to be special somehow, that I'm kind of..."

"That is not true, Roronoa," he interrupted the other, reluctantly, watching with concern how much Roronoa was sweating. "You are mistaken. There is hardly a person I respect as much as you."

"Oh, really?" Roronoa dropped on the bed, obviously he would have to transform soon, but he was too proud to do so. "So why didn't you just ask me? Why didn't you tell me beforehand that your father might know something that might be interesting? Why didn't you suggest that I come along and ask him myself? Maybe I would have told you then that I don't want to know any of this crap."

For a moment, Roronoa took a deep breath and rubbed the sweat off his forehead.

"But no, you just decided over my head to stir up my past. What did you think you would achieve this way? Did you want me to be grateful to you for poking around in things I don't want to know and don't care about? Did you want to be the shining hero who brings me the good news that I am the prodigal king's son of a lost dynasty?"

"Well, at least I had not expected to be lectured."

"You still treat me like a child who needs to be patronized by you, and that even though we've talked so many times about me making my own decisions, and I'm supposed to like that?"

Shaking his head, Mihawk folded his arms.

"I am not saying that I am acting rationally at all times, Roronoa, but you have said yourself that you can handle it, that you can endure me even if I am not the rational, controlled me, so..."

"That's not what it's all about..."

"But that is what it is all about! Maybe I should have asked you beforehand, but I could not have guessed that this subject is so sensitive for you. Maybe my intentions are not the purest, maybe I was too curious in areas that were private, but after you told so little about your past, I had no choices left. How can you believe that I could only appreciate you if you had a special origin? Do you really think so low of me?"

Now it seemed as if Roronoa was questioning his words for the first time when he remained silent for a moment, but that second passed quickly.

"What other choice did you leave me? What else should I think? You keep talking about how pathetic everyone else is. The World Aristocrats, the other Shichibukais, the politicians of your islands, other pirates, even your own family and friends; you always pretend that you are standing above them all, as if you were a damn god, better than anyone else, as if you were above every wrongdoing and had been implanted with wisdom and knowledge while still being in the womb."

Then Roronoa began to transform, but that could not stop him as he continued: "And every time we end up talking about those books, my past, or my mother, you always circled directly around my possible background. I know you fantasized that I could be a descendant of the last king of Alciel, why else would you have been so interested in my mother? You desperately wanted to believe that I am some mighty noble descendant who still might even be entitled to some gone kingdom, only for me to be worthy of you."

Mihawk turned his gaze away when Roronoa did not think about covering his bare chest.

"You are mistaken, Roronoa. Of course, all these almost arbitrary coincidences have aroused my curiosity, but regardless of what I would find in your past or not, it would not affect my view of you. It would not change who you are, not for me."

"Oh, bullshit." Graciously, Roronoa pulled a shirt far too big for his small figure over his head and then began to tighten his bandages. "Of course, it would affect you in some way. You grew up in this world of names and titles and still boast about it. If you really didn't care, you wouldn't try to figure everything out by hook or by crook."

Mihawk could not say much against that. Of course he could deny it, but if he was quite honest, the younger one was not completely wrong.

"And then I might have told you what I know."

These words made Mihawk listen. Roronoa looked at him almost sadly, no, rather resigned, the childish eyes were heavy and dull, the narrow lips little more than a thin line.

"What do you mean by that, Roronoa?"

"Do you remember what my mother called me?" The younger one replied with a counter-question.

"Of course, Ron, which means as much as child or descendant."

Roronoa nodded.

"And what did I call her?"

"Well, mother - Ni - if I remember correctly. Roronoa, what is your point?"

"I called her, Ro Ni, because..."

And then Mihawk suddenly understood.

"Because Ro is a respectful form of addressing," he muttered, wondering how he had missed it during their last conversation about Roronoa's mother.

"Roronoa is not a name at all," Mihawk whispered, looking at the other, "it is a title."

He ruffled through his hair and leaned with one hand against the wall behind him.

"It is a title for the highly well-born descendant of a... a what? What does the Oa in your name mean?"

Roronoa shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know," he simply said.

"No, I do not believe you. Tell me the truth, Roronoa. Now you can give me the full answer. What kind of descendant are you?"

"And that's exactly what I meant," murmured the other, "that's why I didn't want to tell you, because you're going to make a huge thing out of it now and..."

"But it is important, Roronoa! As I suspected, you are probably a descendant of Alciel and that means..."

"It means nothing!" Roronoa interrupted him again. "I won't allow myself to be influenced by some dead people. My heritage has nothing to do with me and it won't shape my future, because I will do that myself."

Roronoa's view was completely incomprehensible to him. So, he tried to bypass this point of discussion.

"Well, Roronoa, but what kind of origin are we talking about?"

"I told you, I don't know." The younger one dodged his gaze. "To be honest, I didn't notice it until we talked about my mother. I don't think often about her or my childhood and somehow, I never made the connection. But when we talked about it, you said such weird things and suddenly I realized it and all of a sudden so many of her words and actions made sense, suddenly the woman from my memory is quite different and actually I don't know who my mother was."

Mihawk remained silent. He wondered whether Roronoa's anger from before was perhaps solely due to the uncertainty that his new knowledge about his past had brought, or whether his accusation that Mihawk would value him only because of a name might not have been entirely unfounded.

"But why do you not want to find out who your mother was?" He asked simply. "Why do you not want to know as much about her as possible?"

"Because it doesn't matter," Roronoa replied firmly, "even if I looked under each stone, each book, and each poneglyph for information, it won't change the past. In the end, she will be none other than the proud woman in the patched dress who poisoned herself. And the same goes for any names, titles, or heritage. Even if I found out everything, it's all long gone, and I don't live my life to meet the demands of unknown ancestors. I have dedicated my life to my dream, my promise, and my oath, and no name, no title, and certainly no damn legacy will keep me from doing so."

For a long time, Mihawk looked at his student, tried to understand what Roronoa meant by this, and failed miserably. He did not understand what was so repulsive about the knowledge of one's own origin. He did not understand why Roronoa was so reluctant and so incensed. But then came a surprising realization.

"I have to admit," he said clearly, "that I cannot understand your motives in the least. But I realize that I might not have to. Whether I understand your views or not, I should at least accept them. I was so filled with my own desire to know more about your origins that I did not respect your decision to let it be, I apologize for that."

Roronoa stared at Mihawk with big eyes and an open mouth.

"However, I would like to stress that your reaction was far from appropriate as well. Burning my father's notes, I am very upset about this, and if you had told me the truth in the first place, I might have been more considerate." Now Roronoa raised an eyebrow in doubt. "After all, we agreed that we would be honest towards another."

After a second, Zoro nodded with a sigh.

"Yes, you're right. I am sorry that I did not tell you the truth and that I burned the papers. I shouldn't have done that, my bad."

"Besides, you were very rude towards me and have..."

"Don't stress it too much, will ya? You're an arrogant bastard and I'm not going to justify that."

"Tze, you will never change, will you, Roronoa?"

The youngster grinned.

"You wouldn't want that." Then he got serious again. "So that's it? I'm really damn tired and just want to sleep."

"Well, I should lie down, too. But I still have one question."

Roronoa just looked at him, but Mihawk did not know how to ask what bothered him. For a few breaths, he stared at Roronoa in silence until the other groaned unnerved. Appeasing, Mihawk raised both arms.

"We both said some things today that would have been better not said out loud and I wanted to... I just want to make sure that we..."

"So for my part, I've forgotten most of what you or I said already," Roronoa interrupted roughly. "Besides, it was just a respectful argument, wasn't it? So don't get your damn knickers in a twist."

Although Mihawk really did not want to approve the language, these words made it much easier for him.

"That means it would not be presumptuous if I asked you to be truly honest with me from now on? No more lies?"

"No idea," Roronoa grumbled, pulling the sheet over his legs, "but if it calms you down, fine with me. As long as I can go to sleep now."

Shaking his head, Mihawk said goodbye with a smile, hearing Roronoa turn off his bed light before closing the door. This evening was supposed to give him a lot to brood about, but the only thought that came to his mind was that there was probably no one who addressed Roronoa as respectfully as he did, first unconsciously and from now on consciously. He was amused that such a thought made him so happy, but when he reached his room the smile faded. The opposite door was open and Jiroushin leaned in the door frame.

"Tension in paradise?" He asked without any wit in his voice. "Have been arguing quite loudly."

"My apologies if we disturbed your night's sleep, Jiroushin. That was not our intention."

The blond waved it off.

"It's fine. If you want, I have a minute. "

This offer surprised Mihawk almost more than the general presence of the blond.

"Maybe another time, Jirou. Now I just long for my bed," he politely refused, opening his room door.

"You've really changed a lot, Mihawk, I hardly recognize you." Those words made Mihawk pause for a moment while Jiroushin continued: "You'd never argue with anyone like that before, and you'd never smiled at anyone like that before either."

"Jirou, I am too exhausted to filter out your motives between those lines, so please be brief."

"I'm just wondering, Hawky, are you really aware of what you feel for this boy? Because I don't think this liaison will end happy for both of you."

"Jiroushin, what are you talking about? Roronoa and I do not lead such a relationship, you should know."

Now the other looked at him seriously.

"Oh, don't worry, I know that and Zoro knows that, but the question is, are you aware of that?"

Clicking his tongue, Mihawk opened the door.

"What ridiculous thoughts, Jiroushin, the lack of sleep makes you delusional."

"I'm just worried about you, Hawky. No matter what I think of Zoro, I can't stand by and watch you walk your road to ruin. I do actually like him, you know, but if you don't take good care, he will mean your downfall and I can't and won't allow that."

It would be a great pity if, after Jimbei and Moria, the ranks of the Shichibukai were weakened by another member.

Now you've once again caught an innocent being and I'm not going to watch you destroy another life.

This name means only mischief for you and this child. The last Roronoa is dead and that is how it should stay.

However, I don't know if I can forgive you for having forced such a stigma on this child.

"Are you threatening me, Jiroushin?" Mihawk asked in a sinister way, recalling all the words of friend and foe that had already predicted his and Roronoa's demise.

"No, not at all. I just ask you to take care of yourself and maintain emotional distance from Zoro, as it should be between student and teacher."

With that, the Vice Admiral walked back into his room and left Mihawk behind.

Why did they all say that? Why did all the people in his life seem to agree on this?

Whether Eizen, Nataku, Gat, or Kanan, even Jiroushin! They all warned Mihawk, either that he would mean Roronoa's misery, or vice versa. Most of the words had been indifferent to him, but he just remembered every doubt he ever had, every dispute he had ever fought with Roronoa.

Could it be that Mihawk just made a serious mistake? Could it be that, for the first time in his life, he misjudged a situation? Could it be that Jiroushin was right? Did the road, he and Roronoa had chosen, lead them to ruins?

Mihawk did not know, but he remembered well that he had once, almost half a year ago, decided to keep his distance from Roronoa, and that he had failed miserably. He had once feared exactly what Jiroushin had suspected. So why did he just not want to give meaning to Jiroushin's words?

So, to make this clear once and for all, I can make my own decisions, no matter what you or some idiot says, and I won't let anyone take that right away. For all I care, you are my downfall or the incarnate misfortune. But do you know what? These are all your problems!

But then he understood, and the doubts faded as quickly as they had come.

You know, I'm strong and I have an even stronger will. I can manage you. Because I am strong and because I can take care of myself and make decisions for myself.

They all did not know Roronoa, not the way Mihawk knew him. They all underestimate him, as Mihawk had done so many times in the past and sometimes still did.

So, stop disrespecting my decisions. I am old enough to choose the people in my life. You're really annoying, but I can deal with you most of the time, so don't pretend I'm not responsible for all this here, as if you were to blame for anything. I am a Roronoa and a Roronoa does not let anyone make decisions for themselves.

Only Mihawk knew how strong Roronoa really was and now he understood why Roronoa had been so hurt. Mihawk knew who Roronoa really was, he could see it because Roronoa had shown him his true face over and over again, but for whatever reason, Mihawk had forgotten it, simply forgotten. He had cared too much about Roronoa and for a moment had forgotten to trust in him, to really perceive him.

Smiling quietly, Mihawk left the hallway.

Now he owed Jiroushin even more gratitude, without his warning he might have noticed far too late that he was threatening to stray from the right road.