Hello everybody,
as it is already quite late (and I should have gone to bed an hour ago) here's the chapter without any further talk. Thank you for your support and see you friday ;-)
Good night^^'
Chapter 52 - Flame
-Zoro-
"What the hell is the point of this?"
Suspiciously, he stared back and forth between Jiroushin and Mihawk. He was used to the Shichibukai looking at him condescending – his height did the rest – but the Vice Admiral's grin almost troubled him even more.
"Is that not obvious?" Mihawk said coolly. "Today Jiroushin will be your dance partner."
"What? I thought we wanted to fight."
"If you are able to lead, you may fight with Jiroushin as much as you want, but until then you will dance."
Angry, Zoro folded his arms. That was not what they had agreed on.
"Oh, come on, Zoro." Broadly grinning, Jiroushin went into position. "The faster you understand it, the faster we can fight again."
That was an argument that Zoro could not counter much. Quietly grumbling, he went into position and reached for the soldier's hand.
"Jiroushin is extremely good at being guided, far better than I am," the Shichibukai remarked as he walked around Zoro and made slight corrections to his posture, "and he also enjoyed an extensive dance education. So, he will be able to evaluate your leading qualities well."
Surprised, Zoro looked at the soldier. Only now did he notice. Jiroushin held himself totally different in relation to the Shichibukai, his entire posture reminded Zoro of what Kanan had tried to teach him, but even she had not seemed as elegant and self-confident as Jiroushin.
He leaned in Zoro's arm, his back bend that much that it almost reminded of a hollow-back, his knees bent, and grinned up to him. This position had to be incredibly uncomfortable and Zoro wondered how the other could keep his balance so naturally. Zoro doubted that he had bent his body so much when the Shichibukai had led him. He doubted that he actually could bend that much in the first place.
"Our dear Hawky here is not the only one from some good family, you know? And unlike him, I took the additional private lessons very seriously."
"And you think that is something to brag about?" Mihawk said behind him, unimpressed, before looking at Zoro again.
"You know the steps, Roronoa, so just dance." The Shichibukai stood behind the soldier and seemed to correct his shoulders. "Jiroushin knows the basic steps and the different figures, of course, but not the choreography that we have put together over the past few days. Your task will be to lead him neatly through the choreography, understood?"
Zoro nodded. He had done it countless times with Perona and wondered why the exercise should be different today. But he had agreed to take part in this crap, so he would not back out of it now.
After the first steps, he noticed the difference.
Jiroushin was light, it was as if Zoro did not have to pay attention to anyone. Perona had barely been more confident in dancing than himself and he had not even been able to move Mihawk, even if he had wanted to. He had felt that it would have been easier to move the Rivers Mountain by hand than the Shichibukai.
The soldier, on the other hand, seemed to react before Zoro even showed where he wanted to go, as if Jiroushin were reading his thoughts with the Kenbunshoku Haki. It was easy to guide Jiroushin through the steps, even though Zoro was far from confident, almost as if Jiroushin knew the choreography and did not need Zoro to show him. It was almost as if... They ended the circle one step too early; had Zoro miscounted? The next sequence of steps worked perfectly again and since the Shichibukai said nothing, it could just as well be that Zoro had imagined the misstep.
What he didn't imagine, however, was the soldier's mischievous grin in his arms and somehow it almost scared him and not even the Shichibukai could do that. Something was off.
The straight line of five parallel steps was more curved than he had anticipated, making the transition far too narrow for Zoro and he almost stumbled over his own feet.
The disapproving clicking of Mihawk's tongue echoed through the room, but otherwise he remained calm. Unusually calm, it didn't suit the older one that he didn't correct Zoro every two seconds. On the other hand, it was not the first time that Zoro was supposed to understand something on his own.
After the next sequence of steps, they would reach the bottom corner of the dance floor and run a strict diagonal back to the middle, but Zoro noticed something.
"You got it?"
Surprised, he looked down at the soldier in his arm, who was still grinning dangerously as he nodded into the corner that Zoro was supposed to reach within the next three steps, yet they were somehow almost at the other end of the dancefloor.
"You know, Zoro, Hawky told you to lead me through your choreography." Although they were not where they were supposed to be, Zoro went to the next element and moved Jiroushin into a standing position. "But no one said I would follow you."
The next moment, Zoro took a step backwards.
"What?" They should have held the standing position for at least a few seconds before they were to go into a spin. Zoro took two more steps back and then turned around his own axis.
"Dancing has very strict but easy rules," Jiroushin explained, looking up to him, "there is a sequence of steps through which the partner follows the leader. The leader determines the path and the partner adapts. The leader is the constant frame in which the partner can bloom."
They no longer danced the steps of the choreography and Zoro did not know where to pick them up again. They were dancing something totally else and if he wanted to continue the choreography where they had interrupted, the sequence of steps would lead them straight into the next wall. But he was far too insecure to simply improvise a new sequence of steps, and he didn't understand Jiroushin's words either.
"Without a leader, the partner cannot follow, that means, if the leader does not lead..." Suddenly they made a harsh turn to the left and Zoro lost his balance. "... the partner must take the lead to help the leader and to finish the dance."
Zoro stumbled and fell to the ground.
"But in a fight, there are no partners, but opponents." Surprised, he looked up to Jiroushin, who perched above him. "Zoro, I just defeated you."
-Mihawk-
"And again."
"Are you sure, Hawky? He's pretty much done."
"Not my problem. Again."
Roronoa rose clumsily. Sweat ran down his body and he obviously struggled to stand straight.
The task was incredibly simple. He was to defeat Jiroushin within three moves. Considering that Roronoa was superior to Jiroushin by now, one should actually believe that Roronoa should have a walk-over.
Of course, Roronoa had never fought Jiroushin while he used his precious rapier, but Roronoa should be able to defeat him quickly.
But that day and the three previous ones showed Roronoa could not. His ability was to steadily increase over the course of a longer fight until he surpassed his opponent, but he just did not get that time and Jiroushin knew thousands of attacking options and knew how not to fall into patterns.
One... Two... Roronoa was back on the ground.
"We should let it be for the day," Jiroushin remarked, but Mihawk did notice his grin.
"No." Roronoa rose with a heavy breath and scratched his scar. "We only have today and tomorrow. Until then, I have to get it done."
He was not wrong. Jiroushin had only planned to stay for a few days, now he had already spent almost three weeks supporting Roronoa with his training and obviously the homesickness after his wife and his child grew, besides, he could not have as much vacation time as he spent on Kuraigana.
Roronoa developed extremely slowly in the field of leading a fight. It had taken a long time before he had managed to fulfil his task as a leader in dance and when Jiroushin had decided to no longer take on the role of partner, but to compete with Roronoa for the leadership, the youngster had almost immediately fallen back into his old habits.
It was as Jiroushin had said, Roronoa had probably spent almost fifteen years of his life exercising this one fighting style and now Mihawk demanded that he change it within a few weeks. It certainly was not easy.
"I agree with Jiroushin, Roronoa, your attacks are gradually becoming one-sided and predictable. You have three more tries, otherwise we are done for today."
The younger one only nodded, went into combat position and on Mihawk's signal they attacked. Again Roronoa lay on the ground and Mihawk sighed loudly.
"You know," Jiroushin muttered to him, "somehow it's very satisfying that I can still defeat him so easily, even though he's so good now."
It was not surprising to Mihawk that Jiroushin had already noticed Roronoa's actual strength, but at the same time it also made it harder for him that he was about to nip Jiroushin's awakening will to fight in the bud.
He just nodded towards his friend and then walked to Roronoa, who was still kneeling on the ground and wiping the blood from a new wound. He squatted down next to his protégé.
"You still do not understand what the advantage of this fighting style is supposed to be, right?"
Roronoa looked at him from the side.
"I do, I have to control the fight so that I can finish it whenever I want and not unnecessarily..."
"You are just repeating mine and Jiroushin's words, but you do not understand what they mean, do you?"
He leaned forward and took the Kitetsu out of Roronoa's hand. It was an unruly spirit, neither to be broken nor controlled, just wished Mihawk death and misery, and yet Roronoa could lead it well. Mihawk's protégé was awfully contradictory.
"I want to remind you of your fight with Nataku." Mihawk knew the details from the files and from his conversations with Roronoa himself and the commander of the G-6, who had captured the straw hats, and he knew the fighting style of the cold blade of justice only too well. "How many attacks did he need to give you what he thought was a fatal injury? "
Roronoa turned his gaze away, seemed to be thinking.
"A total of seven," he muttered softly. "But actually less; the first three blows would have been enough. I noticed at the latest on the third attack that he was superior, he probably knew it after the first one."
"Of course, you were not even close to be a match to him at that time."
Roronoa looked at him.
"I got serious after the third attack," he admitted, probably not even aware that this was a confession, "and from then on he got serious as well and after three attacks he had me. It would have been less if it hadn't been for Luffy."
Mihawk pulled Roronoa to his feet.
"And if he had been serious from the beginning, if he had not underestimated you, the G-6 would probably still be standing today." He could see that Roronoa was thinking, trying to understand what Mihawk wanted to explain. "You have to approach every attack as if the lives of your crewmembers depend on it. Do not wait for the three strokes to happen, because these are the decisive ones."
He pointed with Roronoa's sword at Jiroushin, who slightly surprised raised his rapier.
"That is your opponent. He hardly needs three attacks to defeat you. Nataku used seven because he took too long to become serious. So, who will have to withstand the other four attacks? The chef? Nico Robin? The young doctor you like so much? Or your captain? After your opponent takes you down in three moves, he will take care of your crew."
Roronoa looked over to the Vice Admiral and took his sword again. His gaze had changed, there was this fighting spirit with which Roronoa had also looked at Mihawk at that time. Suddenly Mihawk understood why it had taken him so long to see Roronoa's weakness, because when Roronoa faced him, he had never held back, and now he looked at Jiroushin with exactly the same gaze, no, it was not exactly the same look, he seemed almost more intense, as if the destructive power of an entire forest fire was concentrated within a single flame. The control he had instilled in the youngster for the last few months would finally pay off. Mihawk could almost hear the crackling when he saw the fire in the eye of the other.
Grinning Mihawk continued: "So do not wait for your opponent to get serious. Attack him from the beginning with the will to defeat him as quickly as possible, because if you do not, he will, and who will protect your crew then?"
The younger one did not respond but went into a fighting position. Jiroushin threw a questioning glance at Mihawk, but also got ready. On Mihawk's signal, both attacked.
Harshly Jiroushin clashed to the ground, Roronoa's blades right at his throat.
"What the hell...?"
Slowly, Mihawk applauded as Roronoa loomed over the shocked Jiroushin. Sometimes his student was really easy to read; if he had only thought of challenging Roronoa's protector instinct earlier, they could have saved themselves some frustrating hours.
"Congratulations, Roronoa. This is the first time in your life that you have actually led a fight and won. You are now one of the best swordfighters in the world."
Apparently surprised, Roronoa stared at him.
"What?"
Mihawk could not hide a smile as he crossed his arms.
"You have just defeated Cho Jiroushin, the peaceful warrior and defender of the rapier, one of the five best swordfighters in the world."
Sluggish, Jiroushin straightened up in the background.
"Stop enjoying that," he murmured, stretching himself, "that was one victory. How many times have I beaten Zoro before?"
"Well," Mihawk was only too happy to pick that point up, "Roronoa, you said you wanted to defeat me at least a thousand times? Start with Jiroushin. No more than three attacks, understood? Prove that you are superior to him."
"Hey, you were my best man and you are my child's godfather. Could you at least pretend that the whole thing isn't a lot of fun for you?"
Mihawk wanted to reply, but then Roronoa finally spoke.
"This... fighting style… it feels different," he murmured, swallowing heavily. "Do I always have to fight like this?"
This question did not surprise Mihawk. He was well aware that this kind of fighting was less appealing than Roronoa's, at the same time it meant an immense pressure for the fighter. This style required much more concentration and control than Roronoa's previous, playful and frivolous, manner.
"Yes, at least for the time being." The younger one did not respond. "You have to learn to control yourself and the fight at any time and in any situation. Only if you succeed in doing so you can use riskier tactics and have fun again."
Roronoa sighed annoyed.
"How is this supposed to be possible? Jiroushin leaves tomorrow."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, use the time that remains, otherwise you will have a long year ahead of you."
For a moment, the younger one took a deep breath and rubbed his arm over his sweaty forehead. Then he took his sword back into his mouth and set Kitetsu on Jiroushin.
"Are you ready for a thousand defeats?"
The blond went into fighting position.
"You two are insane. What the hell did I get involved in?"
They probably fought all night. Mihawk could only guess, as he had retreated for a few hours of sleep, but when he came back, the two had probably not stopped for a minute.
While the first rays of sunshine broke through the gentle clouds of fog, both swordsmen knelt on the ground, breathing heavily, bloody, and dirty. Mihawk had been, of course, right. Now that Roronoa understood what it meant to lead a fight from the beginning and he was no longer holding back, his qualities were evident. Jiroushin had not been able to defeat him even once, despite his rapier and years of experience.
"Okay," Roronoa panted with a half-grin, dropping to the ground, "ready for another go?"
"Before that, I need a break," Jiroushin grumbled, huffing just as much, and rubbing a new cut on his upper arm.
"You both take a break. Roronoa you have to change when you transform, and you both should eat something. Jiroushin, when will you be picked up?"
By mutual agreement they went back to the castle and Mihawk sent the youngest to the bathroom, while he went to the fireplace room and read the newspaper in his favorite armchair. The Marine ship that was to pick up Jiroushin would arrive in the early evening; so there was still enough time for Roronoa to fight the Vice Admiral in his female form.
"Geez, I'm done." Wearing clean clothes, the blond also came into the fireplace room while rubbing his neck. "I'm just too old for this kind of lifestyle. Training all day is one thing, but then staying up all night... I don't know."
He fell on a chair near the fire. Mihawk watched him closely. He almost envied the other for being able to fight Roronoa all night.
"Really shocking how quickly Zoro got so good," Jiroushin muttered, looking over to Mihawk. "I mean, just over a year ago he didn't even stand a chance and today... well, the new generation is on the rise, there is no doubt about that."
The other was right. Just over a year ago, Roronoa had ended up on Sasaki, and a few days earlier Nataku had crushingly defeated him. But it had taken him only 11 months of hard training on Kuraigana to match – no, to surpass - Jiroushin.
"You know that I've won many practice fights against Nataku?" Jiroushin remarked thoughtfully, as if he had thought about exactly the same thing.
Mihawk nodded and flipped one page.
"Of course. After all you are the better swordsman."
"Stop making fun of me."
Now he looked up.
"Oh no, Jirou, you know, I do not favor jokes. Your control is far superior to Nataku's and, strategically as well as technically, you outrival him." He looked back at the news of the world again, four pages were dedicated to the new rookies who had probably recently reached the Sabaody Archipelago. "He is a little bit mentally steadier and physically stronger than you are, but he probably will not be able to keep that posture for much longer because of age as little as he trains, but you are not equal to him for just one reason."
"My will to fight," the blond sighed, before coming over to Mihawk and dropping on Roronoa's sofa. "Even in a real fight I'm not down to kill my opponent, Nataku on the other side..."
"Enough about him, Jiroushin. Yes, I am aware that Roronoa could probably defeat him by now, using all his might in a fierce battle that might even cost him his life. No, he is far from equal to me and no, you do not need to justify yourself for not being a natural warrior. Given your family situation, it may even be better that you have not fallen for the fight as I have."
The other did not respond, so Mihawk continued to read.
"I'm kind of shocked you say something like this. I always thought you didn't approve it," Jiroushin finally said after several minutes of silence. "I always thought you considered me weak because I don't like fighting as much as you do."
Mihawk did not even look up.
"What nonsense," he coolly remarked, "I never thought you were weak, Jiroushin. Your principles contradict mine and your good-naturedness often demands my patience, but to end a fight before it has even begun probably demands as much courage as to enter a fight, perhaps even more. It is probably easier to break someone's neck than to convince them of another opinion, at least in my own experience."
"You're a terrible person, Hawky."
"Tell me something I am not aware of. I still cannot believe you made me a role model for your child."
"You could have refused."
"And draw your eternal wrath upon me? Please..."
Jiroushin next to him laughed quietly and even Mihawk could not prevent a grin as he turned another page.
"To be honest," the Vice Admiral continued, "right now, with the training and all... I understand you."
Surprised, Mihawk looked at the other regarding his hands with a dry grin.
"Damn it, this pirate hunter..." He shook his head. "I shouldn't care that he surpassed me so quickly, but it actually does irk me."
Suddenly he looked over to Mihawk.
"If Zoro grins at you like that, you just want to fight, right? I don't understand how you can withstand this urge to fight him. My fingers are still tingling, and I can't wait to cross blades with him again."
Smiling quietly, Mihawk folded his newspaper.
"So that is why you have stayed here for so long. I was surprised you could leave your wife and child alone for such a long time."
"Yes, mock me even more," Jiroushin laughed, turning onto his belly to have a better look at Mihawk. Once again he looked like a young lad and not like a grown man. "I'm so done and my whole body hurts, but all this time I'm just thinking about how I could optimize my workout. Muscle training, of course, but I also need to improve my stamina if I want to keep up with Zoro. I have to be more determined and also risk hurting my counterpart, but..."
Suddenly the blond was silent.
"What am I actually doing here? I have a family, a steady job. The time of wild fights is long gone. I..." Shaking his head, he got up. "I almost envy you, Hawky."
Jiroushin looked down at him.
"Do you always feel like this, in his presence? Does he awaken this fire within you? Did you spare him because of that back then?"
Slowly, Mihawk got up as well and put the newspaper on the table.
"Be careful, Jiroushin. These flames devour everything that stands in their way."
Then he went to the door, which was just opened by Roronoa, now in his female form, an unnaturally wide grin on his lips.
"Come on, Jiroushin. Let's fight."
Given that Roronoa had been up the whole night – and was basically more of a silent type of person – he just showed very clearly how much he wanted to fight. Yes, it was contagious.
Nodding at each other, they followed the youngster.
Now the difference between Roronoa's two figures became even clearer. While Jiroushin had hardly stood a chance against Roronoa Zoro, he could easily hold his own against Lady Loreen.
Mihawk watched attentively probably the two most important people in his life.
I don't understand how you can withstand this urge to fight him.
Jiroushin had unintentionally rubbed salt into his wounds. Mihawk wanted to fight, wanted to fight properly. For the last few years, he had almost forgotten his constant hunger, it had been nothing more than a dull throbbing in the back of his mind, but the better Roronoa got, the more Mihawk yearned for him.
But he knew full well that he would regret giving up his patience. Fortunately, he was still master of his decisions, and even though he was craving to put Roronoa down in battle, he wanted to fight him more than once. He did not want to lose him! And for so many reasonable and unreasonable reasons.
Mihawk rose and strode forward. Surprised, the two opponents interrupted their fight and looked at him.
"Hawky, what is it?"
"Roronoa, give me your sword," he ordered coolly, without looking at the younger one.
"What? What for?"
As always as Loreen, Roronoa fought with Josei, which he reluctantly handed him.
"Step aside, not that you get hurt."
"What? What are you talking about?" His little frog grumbled dissatisfied and did not move an inch. With his arms folded, he looked up to Mihawk. "We only have a few hours left before Jiroushin leaves and I haven't beaten him yet."
"Beaten?" Jiroushin repeated with a dry laugh. "Seriously, I'm not that weak."
"You will not defeat him today, Roronoa, and you have fought enough; your movements have become sluggish."
"But..."
"Silence and step aside."
With his arm outstretched, Mihawk underlined his determination.
"Jiroushin, how do you feel? Do you think you are good for another round?"
He looked over to his best friend, who briefly tilted his head and looked at him thoughtfully, then sighed and went into combat position with a slight grin.
"Don't be too harsh to me, will you?"
"What?" Apparently confused, Roronoa looked back and forth between them. "What does this mean?"
"Today, Roronoa, I will show you how I fight." He saw how those childishly big eyes grew even a little more and Roronoa took a step back. "You always wanted to see me in action, here is your chance."
A grin crept on his lips as Roronoa walked several steps away wordlessly.
"Of course, I will not be able to show you all my skills. Neither this island nor my opponent would survive that..."
"Thank you, too kind," Jiroushin noted grumpily.
"... but maybe it will be a good preparation for you."
"A preparation? For what?" Roronoa asked.
But instead of answering, Mihawk weighed Josei in his hands for a moment; the last time he had fought with it had been long ago, somewhat thirty years probably.
I am no longer the little boy of that time, Josei, so do not dare to think I would let you be the one in control.
As he exhaled deeply, the heat of the blade disappeared, and Josei bowed to his will. Then Mihawk straightened up, leveled the blade in his right hand to the ground, and awaited Jiroushin with open arms.
"Well, Jirou. Let us give the youngster a show."
"As you wish."
The next moment, the blond attacked him.
Ah, there it was. Mihawk had not been wrong, and a glance from the corner of his eyes revealed that Roronoa had noticed it as well. Jiroushin fought differently!
With ease, Mihawk dodged the other and attacked him at the same time. Jiroushin parried his attack and slipped back a few steps, rushing forward again without shyness. Several times, Mihawk averted the sword and pushed Jiroushin back. But he was unimpressed, jumping over Mihawk and taking advantage of the split second Mihawk needed to turn around to jump to the side and attack him. Only a lunge allowed Mihawk to escape the rapier, but by doing so he had to open his cover and Jiroushin took advantage of this mercilessly.
"Come on, Hawky. Even a novice would see that you're playing with me. I thought we wanted to give your little frog a show."
Did Jiroushin himself notice it? He fought much more freely than usual, much less thoughtful, as if he really enjoyed it. The past few weeks in which he had been supposed to help and prevent that Roronoa was leading a fight, he had obviously rediscovered his own leading qualities. Could it be that Jiroushin was finally about to understand?
And then they offered Roronoa a show. For Mihawk, it was unusual to be so considerate of his opponent and at the same time forcing him so close to his limits. But he knew Jiroushin well, could see how far Mihawk could go without endangering him, and despite all the fun, Jiroushin could not jeopardize Mihawk's control.
After several hours, Mihawk ended the fight with a clear victory when he realized that Jiroushin was about to spend his last reserves. To his surprise, Roronoa was very calm afterwards, unlike the good-humoured Jiroushin, who complained about his aching bones and sweaty body.
Mihawk himself had to admit that he was in a better mood than before. If Jiroushin could fight like that, he almost enjoyed playing with him and a bit of physical activity was healthy for mind and body.
After showering and putting on clean clothes – and Jiroushin bringing his belongings to the entrance hall – they enjoyed a dinner with Perona before the Vice Admiral had to leave.
Late during the evening, Mihawk, Roronoa, and Perona were still at the fireplace before she finally left for the night's rest.
From the corner of his eye, he observed the younger one. Roronoa was even more silent than usual. Had it been a mistake to show him what was awaiting him?
No, if Roronoa would have allowed himself to be broken by something like that, he would never have made it this far. Still, Mihawk was concerned that he had not lost a single word about the fight.
Mihawk closed the book in his lap and looked at his little frog in a blatant way. In the glow of the bright candlelight, his gaze seemed even more fiery than during a fight, even though he calmly regarded the pages in front of him.
They had been training together for almost a year by now and his heart became heavy knowing that he had barely the same amount of time left with Roronoa. Jiroushin was right, it was cruel, but he preferred this pain. As Roronoa always said so aptly, pain showed that he was still alive.
By now, Mihawk had found peace with his feelings. He would never be able to show them openly, he would never be able to openly admit to Roronoa, but when they sat here in the candlelight after such a fulfilling day, he was happy, so unimaginably happy. He never thought he could feel that way, and if he could feel that happiness for another year, he was willing to pay the price.
"Is something wrong?" Roronoa looked up, his cheeks appeared reddened in the light of the flames. "You keep staring at me."
"You are even more silent than usually, Roronoa, and I am concerned whether it might be because of my fight against Jiroushin," Mihawk cleverly concealed his true motives.
The younger one looked away for a moment, then he closed his book as well and nodded slowly.
"I am thinking about it," he confessed softly, "I wonder why you showed it to me."
Anticipation rose within Mihawk, he got up and walked over to the chessboard on which their current game was laid out. On his wave, Roronoa followed him.
"An excellent question," he praised, looking at the other. "So? Why do you think I did?"
The younger man looked at their chessboard – Mihawk was waiting for Roronoa's next move for almost two weeks now - and folded his arms.
"I don't really know. I know you want to fight, but you can't fight Jiroushin properly, not the way you like to do it, right? You have to be careful when fighting him." Now Roronoa looked at him. "You could have fought him every day for the past few weeks, but you didn't. Why now? Why today? Was it just because of Jiroushin? I don't think so, to be honest. Yes, he was much better in the fight against you than against me, as if you had spurred him on. But you didn't do it because of him. No, but because of me."
Curiously, Mihawk listened to his little frog saying his thoughts out loud.
"At first I thought you might want to intimidate me. So that I don't get all high and mighty just because I've defeated Jiroushin now, but that's not it. You know I'm not impressed by something like that. On the contrary, I still don't feel like I've improved that much and that's why I think... I think you wanted to show me how good I have become because I could see it. Because I could see the difference between the both of you."
Loudly Mihawk exhaled, relieved that Roronoa had not only noticed, but also understood.
"Right, Roronoa. I think you still have not understood how much you have evolved. I believe you still think that you are hardly different from your former self from a year ago, right?"
Roronoa shrugged and nodded slowly.
"Do you think you could defeat Nataku by now?"
Apparently surprised by this question, the younger one turned his gaze away.
"No idea. I couldn't judge him at the time. I knew he was superior to me, but by how much..." Again, he shrugged his shoulders.
"Then let me give you an answer, Roronoa." The other looked at him. "Before your first year on Kuraigana will have passed, you will have surpassed him, too."
"What? But that's only a few days left."
"I know. You have come really far during the last few months, much further than I would have expected at the beginning, but believe me, you have not even passed half the way to be able to take me on. But of course you saw that today."
He watched Roronoa taking a pawn – the bishop - and repositioning it.
"Yes, I have," he muttered quietly, "and you want to tell me that what I saw today is already Homura's limit?"
Mihawk just nodded.
"Why? Do you think I would seek revenge the moment I have surpassed him?"
"Oh, please no," he raised a hand appeasingly. "I know you do not favor revenge and such feelings."
"Why then? Why did you show me today how you fight? What should I prepare for? What does this have to do with Nataku and Jiroushin?"
"It is very simple, Roronoa. Jiroushin does not really matter, his skills should only show you how far you have come. Nataku, on the other hand, is superior to Jiroushin's mental and physical strength and that is relevant for you."
"Why?"
Now Mihawk grinned and he looked down on his protégé.
"Once you are strong enough to defeat Nataku, you will be ready." Roronoa's eyes grew large. "From then on, Roronoa, I will teach you what the difference is between people like us and them, and if you survive that, if you really get good enough before the end of this year, I will fight you and hopefully not kill you by accident."
"What?"
Rolling his shoulders, Mihawk walked back to his armchair.
"I showed you today how I can fight so that you can prepare for it. Because if you thought the past year was exhausting, you have no idea what to expect. As soon as you are strong enough, I will mold you into a true master of the sword, as the world has yet to see. You will face death more often in the upcoming months than in your whole life. I will show you why the gap between the other swordfighters and me is so unbridgeable. I will show you how to push the boundaries of what is humanly possible, because only in this way can you become equal to me."
"But..." Roronoa followed him and looked at him almost hesitantly. "Not that I want to complain or anything like that, but you always said that you would definitely not fight me until I was strong enough to defeat you. Because you could kill me by accident if you lose control, you just said that yourself. And now you want to do it? Why?"
Mihawk leaned forward.
"Because I get impatient. I thought five years was a manageable, realistic period, but after today... Roronoa, you will not defeat me until the end of your stay here, but if you leave Kuraigana there will be no swordfighter next to me, who could still defeat you, I promise."
He watched Roronoa's reaction as he looked thoughtfully from Mihawk to the chessboard, then to the fire, to the book next to him, his hands, and then back to Mihawk. He had expected something different, mischievous liveliness or unimpressed indifference, but once again Roronoa did not respond to his expectations.
"I want to defeat you," he finally said.
"If you leave this island in a year's time, you will only lack one trait to defeat me, but since I cannot teach you this one trait, you will have to obtain it yourself, and after that you will come back and defeat me."
"All right." Roronoa got up. "Then let's start tomorrow with the ultimate training."
Surprised, he looked up.
"Roronoa, I just said..."
"I heard you. But you're not the only one getting impatient. I mastered Haki, I became my own monster, learned to lead a fight, and perfected my body. I'm ready. I am ready to leave my human boundaries behind and defeat you."
The heat within Mihawk was almost unbearable. Again, Roronoa took this one step more.
He rose with a grin, but then he became master of his feelings.
"Then off to bed with you, Roronoa. You will need sleep, who knows when you will get another chance."
