Hey everybody,
I hope you're all doing well (as well as possible with what the hell is going on in this world...), my life is a little bit busy right now, but I hope it will slow down to the end of this year. Despite everything going on right now I'm extremely excited about next year, and I believe it will be a year of change and growth, even more than this one, especially in writing, so I look forward to post every single time to share a little bit with the world ;-)
I hope wherever you are and at whatever time you read it, this fic gives you a little bit peace of mind (or probably rather headaches... sorry I forgot, what idiots we were talking about ;-P have fun with them, they try to behave today)
See you monday!
Chapter 44 - Yoru
-Mihawk-
Breakfast was unusually stiff. Roronoa was still running his rounds – to Mihawk's horror, Perona had told him that despite the long night, his little frog had gotten up at the usual early hour to do his morning exercise – while Perona, under the suspicious eyes of the Human Drills, did not let herself be discouraged from fostering the farm garden, so that Jiroushin and Mihawk ate alone at the long dining table.
Normally, the Vice Admiral's loudly joking voice would fill the room, but he was silent, almost intentionally dodging Mihawk's gaze. Did he regret what he had told him the previous night? Would Jiroushin have preferred to lie to him and conceal his honest thoughts?
At the beginning of their meal, they had talked seriously about the past two weeks of training; had discussed what Jiroushin had taught Roronoa, what had worked well and what had caused difficulties. They had illuminated lengthily what methods Jiroushin had used and how Roronoa had been able to implement them. In general, Mihawk had made sure that they did not leave out anything that could be relevant. He had to know every detail.
But at some point everything had been said and even the twentieth demand had not revealed any more surprises, so that they had silently continued their meal, unable to maintain a conversation; for which Mihawk of course had no talent, which however usually did not cause any difficulties at all for Jiroushin.
Suddenly the door opened and Roronoa stumbled in; his long, wild hair barely tamed by a hairband, sweaty and dirty, but grinning, he held up hand towards Jiroushin with his index and middle finger stretched.
"Eighty rounds," he said proudly.
Mihawk had learned that the other two had agreed that Roronoa should increase his morning unit so that he would not fall further behind himself – an almost doomed undertaking that additionally took much time – and for this reason Roronoa now apparently trained three times as often in this form as in his true body.
"Very good," Jiroushin praised him far too enthusiastically for Mihawk's taste, "you quickly got better. Did you also apply Busoshoku Haki as I advised you?"
"Of course, I'm not stupid," Roronoa waved it off unimpressed.
"You should take a shower and change," Dulacre advised coolly as Roronoa was about to sit down at the table. "You are very sweaty."
"Urgh," the youngest murmured, but obeyed and turned around.
"I also want you to transform. We are not going to train you in this body today."
Now the two people present looked at him with great surprise.
"Not?" Jiroushin asked.
"Do you want to continue where we stopped last night?" Roronoa asked.
"Oh, Roronoa, do not be so naive. A glance tells me that your Haki has not recovered enough, especially after that short night. After yesterday's success, we will not risk anything today. I think after a day or two of rest we can take the next step without any worries."
"Without any worries?" Jiroushin repeated sarcastically.
"And why should I turn?" Roronoa reluctantly opposed. "Shouldn't I use this time to become stronger in this body?"
Mihawk could not prevent a smile.
"If you want to, we can do that, Roronoa. I just thought you would like to try something new today."
"And what?" Roronoa was extremely suspicious today.
"Well, after bamboo, spade, and axe, maybe you want to coat a real sword?"
Roronoa stared at him, but then an unusually broad grin crept over his otherwise serious face and he nodded only before rushing out of the room, looking almost like a little girl, who expected to find a new toy in the hallway.
"After yesterday, you already want to burden him with another challenge?" Jiroushin scolded him disapprovingly.
"I want to reward him, Jiroushin. Roronoa took his biggest hurdle yesterday and now he gets what he wants most."
"And that would be the coating of swords?"
"Maybe not that precisely, but after more than half a year Roronoa will soon be allowed to fight with his swords again, as soon as he masters the coating."
Now the blond looked up.
"You didn't let him train with his swords all this time?"
"Of course not. If he had destroyed them, it would have been my fault as his teacher. He was not ready yet, but soon he will be."
Jiroushin remained silent for a moment, probably thinking about his rapier, who was a far better friend to him than Mihawk ever wanted to be.
"You are a cruel man, Mihawk, especially towards the people you care about."
He did not respond. He did not want to agree to such a statement but could not deny it.
"Listen, Hawky. Because of last night, what I said... I think..."
"You obviously have every right to express your opinion, Jirou, and I should be grateful that such a good-natured person like you is worried about me."
Unwell, Jiroushin scratched his chin.
"Yes, that may be, but what I actually want to say is..."
"What you want to say is irrelevant, Jiroushin. You can express your opinion, but you must accept that I do not give it any value. It does not matter to me whether you or anyone else fears that Roronoa's and my relationship will cause disaster or not. As long as Roronoa does not reject me, I will not turn him away."
Shaking his head, Jiroushin stood up.
"And again, you're so selfish, Mihawk. I understand that you like him; he understands your love for swords like hardly anyone since Sharak, perhaps even more than even she ever could. But what you do will destroy him and therefore necessarily yourself. You overestimate Zoro. He is self-confident and does not hide his light under a bushel. That's why you two think he's strong enough. But he hardly knows you, not when you're really angry, not when you can't hold back. Zoro doesn't know what he's getting into and you willingly let him walk right into his misery; he doesn't know who you really are. He overestimates himself and because you believe him, you overestimate him too."
Elegantly, Mihawk also got up and walked towards Jiroushin, encountering his rational, serious gaze with a fleeting smile.
"You are mistaken, Jiroushin," he almost whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder before continuing, "I am probably the only one who does not underestimate Roronoa. I am probably the only one who really sees Roronoa for who he is."
He went to the fireplace and reached for one of the swords, but then thought differently and headed to the door.
"And you are wrong about another thing, my dear friend." He did not even stop. "It may be that Roronoa hardly knows me, hardly knows anything about my life, my past, and yet he knows exactly who I am. Who knows, maybe he understands me even better than you do. I feel like he is looking through my mask, whether I like it or not."
With these words he left Jiroushin behind, but his words echoed through the empty corridors like a final warning.
"Despite your sharp hawk eyes, you're blind, Hawky."
-Zoro-
Surprised, he noticed that only an unusually ill-tempered looking Jiroushin was waiting for him in the entrance hall.
"Where is Mihawk?" Zoro asked grumpily. Had that bastard changed his mind?
Jiroushin shrugged his shoulders, apparently far from happy.
"Say," the soldier muttered, folding his arms, "do you remember what we were talking about a few days ago? When we talked about your crew?"
Confused, Zoro recalled the strange - really awkward - conversation after their training four or five days ago. Jiroushin had been very curious and had asked him a lot about the others, especially Robin had apparently caught his eye. They had also talked about the lustful cook and Franky. But why did Jiroushin pick it up again?
The soldier had asked him odd questions and had repeatedly talked about some weird feelings, which in case of doubt could hinder any agreement, any plan, even any dream. It had sounded almost like a warning, but Zoro could not imagine that feelings – something indefinable that could neither be touched nor fully understood – should have such a power. He had told Jiroushin very clearly back then that he would not be distracted neither from his dream nor from protecting his crew, especially not by some useless feelings.
"I know you've made it pretty clear that you just want to focus on your dream and on protecting your crew and you don't care about all these other things."
"Hmm," Zoro grumbled, uncomfortable what the other would ask him now.
"But what if somebody of your crew felt differently? Would that change your mind?"
Zoro tilted his head.
"Why should it?" He said simply. "My opinion has nothing to do with the feelings of others. Why should I be influenced by this?"
"Because that attitude could hurt people who are important to you."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zoro coolly denied.
He didn't know what that was going on. He had been looking forward to an interesting lesson with the Shichibukai. At last, he would coat swords. But now Jiroushin talked about emotions? Such conversations annoyed him and were only pointless talk in his eyes; he was not interested in stuff like that.
"Well," Jiroushin explained, obviously trying to maintain a teacher's serene voice, "if you don't deviate from your decision even though you're aware of their feelings, doesn't that mean that you don't care about their feelings? That you don't value them enough to at least include their feelings in your consideration?"
Zoro was more than confused.
"But those are two completely different things," he said simply. "So, let's be clear. Of course, no one can influence what they feel; feelings are just there, whether we like it or not. But only an idiot would give in to their feelings without rhyme or reason, I certainly wouldn't. And no one from my crew would turn anything like this into an uprising. We really have more important things to worry about, so could we please concentrate on training?"
Jiroushin sighed heavily.
"You are just as bad as Mihawk when it comes to such things. It's naive to think that you never have to deal with the feelings of others. But if you don't know how such feelings feel and are not willing to value the feelings of others, what would you do if someone who is important to you is facing you with such feelings?"
This question surprised Zoro. He had never thought that far. He had to admit that before his conversations with Jiroushin and Mihawk, he had never thought much about anything aside of swordfighting.
The crew didn't really talk about feelings, empathy, consideration, and stuff like that. They were all just the way they were and all of them got along more or less. Yes, it was true that he had talked about this stuff once or twice because of Robin – of course, every time she had been the one, who had wanted to talk about it and he had just been too lazy to leave the room – and yes, Robin had often told him that people simply showed their feelings differently.
She had liked to compare Zoro to the cook to explain to him why the annoying cook showed his emotions so dissolute and bothersome; that idiot fell in love with every female being who crossed his path. According to Robin, the cook was already so attracted to a woman's physical attributes that he hardly could or wanted to fight his feelings.
Zoro, on the other hand, had a hard time understanding it. He saw whether a person was trained and strong or not, but he simply could not comprehend this attraction Robin had tried to make him understand. He had accepted these conversations rather unwillingly. What did he have to care about why the cook made a fool of himself every time Nami walked around in a bikini? What did he have to care when someone else couldn't keep their feelings in check?
He didn't need to think about it, and he didn't need annoying conversations about it, not with Robin, not with Mihawk, and certainly not with Jiroushin. But he apparently owed him an answer, an answer he didn't have. What should he answer? Another person's feelings didn't bother or interest him.
It didn't matter if the cook and Zoro didn't like each other and argued accordingly often, as long as the crew didn't suffer from it, and it was the other way around, too. As long as feelings didn't lead to problems within the crew, he didn't care who was feeling what and why. He simply did not understand what Jiroushin was trying to do, but he was still waiting for an answer with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised.
Fortunately, at that moment the door opened and the Shichibukai came in. On his back strapped the most powerful sword in the world and a barely visible smile on his narrow lips. He looked attentively at Zoro and then Jiroushin.
"I seem to interrupt an interesting conversation, am I?"
Jiroushin was silent, his arms still folded.
"Not really," Zoro disagreed. "Can we finally start training now?"
"Of course, even if your impatience is far from pleasant."
Zoro snorted only contemptuously.
"Well, let us begin."
"Wait a moment, Hawky," Jiroushin grumbled as they walked down the stairs and left the castle behind, "where do you have the practice swords? I'm not going to lend you mine."
"As if I were expecting you to," the Shichibukai replied only, then turned to Zoro. "You see, Roronoa, most students practice coating with simple blunt swords. Only when they can easily coat them in battle, they are allowed to approach real swords. A good student breaks only one or two practice swords before developing a sense for quantity and strength of the armor, a bad one might even need ten swords, right Jiroushin? What is the sad record from the cadet academy?"
The Vice Admiral snorted: "I don't know, but I remember a pretty simple guy a few years ago who took four whole weeks and certainly broke somewhat hundred swords. At some point, he was given a wooden club, because wood is much more flexible and forgives more than metal."
Mihawk laughed almost delighted, but said nothing until they reached the ruins, then he faced Zoro again.
"So if you were looking for a normal education, Roronoa, I would now give you a sword-shaped lump of steel. But since you want to be the best – and because you already manage cell coating – and you are taught by the best, I have a very special task for you." In a single elegant movement, the Shichibukai pulled the sword from his back and placed its tip precisely under Zoro's chin. "Coat Yoru!"
"What?"
"What?!"
Zoro was confused, Jiroushin frantic.
"What are you talking about, Hawky? Nobody would just offer their sword to a novice like..."
"But he is not a novice, Jirou, and Yoru is not a simple sword. It will show Roronoa how much Haki he needs without us having to do anything at all. I tell you, this will be the easiest lesson ever, at least for me."
Yoru at Zoro's neck hummed softly as so often, perhaps a little more vivid than usual; was it looking forward to its new task?
"Still! You've seen how easily he breaks the bamboo. Shall I show you the broken axe? Just because you're lazy and want to have an easy day after staying up too long, you can't just use Yoru..."
"The strongest sword in the world," Zoro whispered, as the Shichibukai swung it through the air and then offered him the handle, "strong enough to withstand Mihawk when he no longer controls himself and uses all his strength."
Then he looked at Jiroushin.
"I can't destroy it."
With big eyes, the blond remained silent while Zoro humbly weighed the powerful weapon in his hands. Of course, the Black Sword was much heavier than his katanas, but it surprised him how comfortable it felt under his skin, how comfortable it was to hold. This weapon was truly a masterpiece.
"Be not mistaken, Roronoa. Even Yoru is not indestructible, but it probably will not allow someone like you to even scratch it." What exactly the Shichibukai meant by this, probably only he knew. "Take a moment to get to know this new weapon, to feel it, and then I want you to harden your hands and forearms as you usual do with the bamboo, and then spread the armor evenly over the sword. Pay close attention to the thickness, think of each cell. The hardness is unimportant at first, start soft, understood?"
Zoro just nodded.
He found it difficult to concentrate on the words of the Shichibukai while Yoru spoke to him incessantly. It was as haunting as a thunderbolt, as pleasant as the pattering of the rain, as steady as the whisper of the forest, and as captivating as the sound of the sea. He closed his eyes, heard Yoru constantly humming quietly, felt the knowledge of countless fights tingling through his fingers, crawling up his forearms, wrapping him like the gentle embrace of a merciful death.
His heart pounded faster, this sword was powerful, not comparable to Josei, certainly not with his Kitetsu. He couldn't just master this sword, right now Yoru simply allowed him to lead it. Like the kindness of an experienced horse, the Black Sword did not take advantage of his ignorance, but let Zoro try himself out, but in every heartbeat, he felt the warning that even Yoru's patience was not infinite.
Slowly, he settled to the rhythm of Yoru's humming, had completely forgotten everything around him, and adjusted his breathing. Holding this sword alone was a challenge itself, he could hardly imagine even moving or fighting. Even now he could feel the deep connection to the Shichibukai, even though the other had walked away a few steps. Even now he knew that Yoru was watching over the Shichibukai and only allowed Zoro to hold it because it trusted Mihawk or maybe it was the other way around. Mihawk trusted the Black Sword, like an old dog that was known not to bite the annoying toddler, even if he pulled on its ears.
Zoro couldn't help but wonder how old this sword might be and how many masters it had served already. It radiated a wisdom and calmness that made even the Wado-Ichi-Monji look young and impulsive, and yet it did not seem tired or worn for a second.
Yoru wanted to fight, wanted to taste blood, but it bowed to the will of his master, who rarely fought. The question was, did Yoru bend because Mihawk had conquered and mastered it, or was their relationship completely different? The Black Sword didn't seem to be a sword that could be easily defeated, not even by the best swordsman in the world.
Inwardly, Zoro expressed his gratitude to the weapon in his hand, asking for patience and for forgiveness for his mistakes before he grabbed it harder and began with his coating. Almost immediately Yoru's hum became quieter and more thoughtful, as if it were listening, at the same time Zoro's breath became slower as he tried to follow the rhythm, almost feeling how this even hum relaxed him.
As the first drops of his Hakis glided over the handle of the sword, Yoru seemed to vibrate joyfully under his skin, almost welcoming him, inviting him to trust the Black Sword – the sword that had once marked and almost killed him – to entrust his life to it.
What an eccentric sword. When at the same time it warned him not to let too much Haki flow and squirmed slightly whenever Zoro became too rough. Grinning, Zoro rolled his head slightly from one shoulder to the other to release the tension in his neck. This unit would probably only be relaxing for his teacher.
-Mihawk-
With a broad grin, he watched Roronoa holding his sword. His eyes wide like a child who was allowed to hold the ship's steering wheel for the first time in his life.
The youngster barely listened to him as he gave him instructions, but that hardly surprised Mihawk. Yuro's voice was as powerful as that of an ancient creature, and Roronoa would not be able to escape this sound, even if he wanted to.
He had been impressed back then that Roronoa could hear Yoru. It was nothing unusual that people who could cut iron also heard the voices of their weapons. But the Black Sword did not speak to everyone and did not allow everyone to hear its voice. Much like Mihawk, Yoru seemed to like his little frog.
Jiroushin next to him snorted indignantly as Roronoa closed his eyes and Mihawk walked a few steps away to an overturned pillar and leaned against it. He decided to ignore his best friend. Of course, he understood Jiroushin's doubts and concerns, but he was indifferent. Yoru was willing to teach Roronoa and no one could teach how to coat a sword as well as the Black Sword, Mihawk knew well enough from his own experience.
It was also fascinating to watch Roronoa getting to know Yoru. He did not swing it around like some idiot, nor did he stare at it blindly. No, he had closed his eyes and listened, directed the tip towards the ground, but without touching the earth. He stood still, slightly swaying his head to the rhythm of the sword, a gentle if serious expression on his face. If Mihawk listened very carefully, he even thought Roronoa was humming quietly, truly fascinating.
"You're doing that because of last night, right?" Jiroushin interrupted his inspiring observations. "You're doing this to teach me a lesson. I tell you to keep him at distance and you urge Yoru in his hand. You pretend to reward him, but in truth you just want..."
"Could you be silent for just a moment?" He did not turn his gaze away from his disciple, who now grinned softly. "Yoru is the best teacher in this field. It will not allow Roronoa to make the coating too thick or fragile. Together with Yoru he will hardly need a day and that is a good thing; you know what Roronoa is about to face now that he has tamed his monster."
"Still, you would rarely allow another person to hold it and he may even train with it."
"Yoru agreed, otherwise I probably would not have dared to. But one has little to do with the other. I do not think much of your opinion and I dislike your behavior." Jiroushin wanted to disagree, but Mihawk continued to speak: "Unfortunately, I could not listen to what you were talking to Roronoa about, but I could tell from his facial expression that you were probably bothering him as well."
"You have no idea what bothering actually means."
"Whatever you do, stop it. You will not change my mind and I do not want you to make Roronoa uncomfortable with any far-fetched claims."
"Unless you ban me from this island, you will not be able to ban my mouth, Hawky."
Mihawk wanted to continue the dispute, but then Roronoa started with the coating and listening to Yoru's whispers he could hear how exciting it had to be. He raised a hand to silence Jiroushin and whispered: "But I would never let anything like this affect my teaching methods. Watch and learn."
Again, Jiroushin snorted annoyed, but he remained silent, thankfully.
Slowly, the black armor of Roronoa's hands spread across the cross-shaped handle, almost hesitantly licking over the night-black blade, but gradually Roronoa Zoro coated the best sword in the world.
It would only take a few hours before Roronoa could put an even, robust armor around Yoru that would actually be suitable for a fight.
Mihawk was delighted, as he had expected, Roronoa was not only extremely talented, but Yoru also the perfect teacher. Of course, Roronoa's quick success was only due to the thorough preparation to which Mihawk had forced him. Just because they had spent weeks and months for Roronoa to use Haki as natural as possible, Roronoa was now able to improve that quickly.
"Truly impressive," Jiroushin muttered beside him, inspecting the black blade in detail, while Mihawk threatened to burst by pride under the praise – which clearly was not meant for him. "I have rarely seen anyone successfully coat a sword so quickly. Remarkable."
Nodding, Mihawk left the Vice Admiral behind and approached Roronoa, who had focused his eyes on Yoru. His breath was evenly, as evenly as his armor covered Yoru, but he saw in Roronoa's face that Yoru clearly challenged him.
"Well, Roronoa, listen to me." His little frog nodded without looking up. "This state should become as ordinary for you as the general use of Haki."
Roronoa snorted quietly. "I don't think holding Yoru can ever feel ordinary."
With a smile, Mihawk had to agree.
"I am of course aware that Yoru dislikes even the slightest deviation in the density of your armor. That is, once Yoru no longer corrects you, you will be able to wrap even the most fragile good without letting it burst. Then at the latest you can also coat your own swords with complete peace of mind."
Now Roronoa looked at him, a mischievous grin on his thin lips.
"It hasn't stopped nagging even once since I've been coating it."
Shrugging, Mihawk raised both hands.
"Of course. Yoru is the strongest sword in the world, almost indestructible, but at the same time it is probably the most sensitive as well and suffers the rougher it is treated. The reason it lets me lead it, even if I sometimes fight quite uncontrolled, is that my Haki control is the finest in the world. I am the only one who is able to lead Yoru in such a way that it can enjoy a fight without suffering."
"In short," Roronoa grumbled, briefly stretching his neck, "it will never stop nagging."
"Exactly, unless you can lead it as finely as I can."
Jiroushin snorted in the background, but Mihawk was not impressed.
"And now that you produced a reasonable armor, the next step it is, Roronoa." He spread his arms wide. "Attack me."
To his surprise, Roronoa did not even hesitate. He had expected Roronoa to make a step back and evaluate that order, but no, he simply attacked.
"You cheeky brat." With ease, Mihawk parried his own sword with his coated arm. "To attack me without even thinking."
"I did think," Roronoa replied simply, holding Yoru as if he had never led another sword, "this exercise is like any other. First in peace, then in motion, and when I attack you, you can better observe how even my armor is."
This absolutely accurate statement surprised Mihawk almost more than the attack.
"Besides," Roronoa continued with a grin, pointing to Yoru, "you like to see me fighting with Yoru, don't you?"
"Tze, by no means," Mihawk denied this little sin, "and now continue to attack me before either me or Yoru lose patience."
Roronoa followed his order far too willingly and it turned into an entertaining evening, so pleasing that Mihawk almost forgot his best friend's mistrust, but of course he was too relentless.
In this way the upcoming units and days passed. A constant mixture of coating swords as Roronoa Zoro and also as Lady Loreen and in between they repeatedly got closer to Roronoa's inner monster.
But any caution seemed in vain, because now that Roronoa had broken the monster and became a demon himself, he seemed to be able to control this condition better and better, even if he seemed to be hardly aware of the effects, at least for now, although Mihawk was well aware that this would change at some point, but Roronoa would have to deal with them, like he had dealt with every challenge so far.
Mihawk enthusiastically followed the progress of his little frog, he really had not expected this development in less than a year. If it went on like this...
Soon Roronoa's real training could begin...
