Hey everybody,

today was a pretty productive day for me, so productive (and busy^^') that I almost forgot to post the new chapter, but here I am and time is flying by, so I'll be really quick here ;-)
Thank you all for your support and see you next monday


Chapter 53 - Home

-Mihawk-

A distressing cry echoed through the cold castle.

"Please close the door," he grumbled as the ghost girl came in.

She quickly followed his request, not succeeding in shutting out the whining completely. She looked terrible; her swollen eyes testified to the tears she had wept.

"Can't you do something?" She whispered. "I can't stand it anymore."

"He is in pain," he replied coolly. "I have no medical education, there is nothing I could do."

"But... but what if he dies?"

"Then he was not ready."

The conversation was over. He opened his newspaper and lowered his concentration on the printed lines while Perona started the fire in the fireplace.

They had returned the previous night. Roronoa had endured a month with him on the old mountains in the North of the island, now Mihawk had brought him back, because the wounds needed reasonable care and Roronoa's body needed a break.

His ultimate training - as Roronoa had so aptly called it - was far from over, but if Mihawk had not interrupted, Roronoa would probably really die and he could not allow that.

Of course, he had expected it to be difficult for the youngster, but what they both had probably underestimated was Lady Loreen's influence. Roronoa may have been able to endure Mihawk's challenges in his true form, but as Lady Loreen he was far from doing so, Roronoa barely managed to maintain his true figure for 40 hours, he had to transform sooner or later.

As Loreen, Roronoa could hardly keep up with his normal training, it had to be expected that he would not be able to withstand these extraordinary demands in this state. Nevertheless, he had not wanted to stop, and his iron ambition had now put him in this situation. Mihawk had been willing to take into account Roronoa's curse, but Roronoa himself had not been willing to do so, and so he had overdone it.

For the first time, Roronoa seemed to have really reached his mental and physical limits – not that it surprised Mihawk – and, as might have been expected, it had almost killed him.

But even worse, Roronoa had sent him away. Although Mihawk would have preferred to take care of him, Roronoa had almost ordered him to leave his room with a painful voice. That was why he was sitting here and pretended that the crying and groaning would not bother him at all.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to let Roronoa take this step so early. On the other hand, he had been more than ready to go on. It was, as Roronoa said, he had mastered all the prerequisites and was, especially considering his young age, an outstanding swordsman. Already now, there were few people in the world, whether swordfighters or not, whom Roronoa had to be wary of. But given which crew he was a member of, probably still enough.

For this reason, it was necessary that Roronoa was one of the handful of people who left their human limits behind, only this way could he really reach the top and finally defeat Mihawk. Since the great war, Mihawk was certain that the Straw Hat would also surpass these limits, especially since the Dark King wanted to teach him, if Roronoa wanted to continue to protect him, he had to become just as strong.

But he still wondered what Rayleigh had in mind; two years were very little time for both Roronoa and the Straw Hat to not only learn the basics like Haki, but also to grow beyond their own limits.

Roronoa had progressed superbly in the past year, significantly better than Mihawk had expected, but still, the one year they had left was hardly enough time, even for someone like Roronoa. How could that old man expect that the Straw Hat – who did not seem nearly as disciplined and goal-oriented as Mihawk's protégé – would become strong enough in two years to be able to oppose someone like Sakazuki?

With a sigh, Mihawk closed his newspaper. Such questions would not take him any further and the skill of the Straw Hat occupied him only to the extent that Roronoa was concerned. He hoped that Rayleigh would train this boy well enough, so that for once he would be able to protect Roronoa and not just the other way around.

Shanks had prophesied that he would be surpassed by the Straw Hat, just as Mihawk knew that Roronoa would surpass him one day. So he had no choice but to believe that his former favorite rival would be right. Not because Mihawk was worried about the annoying rubber boy, but he wanted to prevent Roronoa from always having to take the fall as soon as the Straw Hat would seek out another opponent he could not withstand.

But doubts remained whether Shank's prophecy could be realized within just two years. He admitted that Straw Hat was not bad – at least not entirely incompetent, given what Mihawk had seen during the great battle – but the only thing superhuman about him had been his talent to be able to find allies and friends even in such a situation. His strength however had been far from exceptional, and Mihawk did not want to rely on this boy to become the captain in two years' time, whom Shanks saw in him and Mihawk needed for his protégé.

But that was probably beyond his control, whether Rayleigh had deliberately chosen this period or not, did not matter to him. He had promised to mold Roronoa into a true master of the sword, and by now he had probably succeeded. Now he would help Roronoa become exceptional.

But for this Roronoa had to recover enough to be able to stand on his own two feet again. When Mihawk got up, he noticed that Perona was still sitting on her armchair near the fire, a book about flowers in her lap. Surprised, she looked up when she noticed his gaze.

"Uhm, I think it's too early for breakfast, isn't it?"

Why did she think he was concerned about something trivial as that?

"I am not hungry and Roronoa will probably not be able to eat anything, so you do not have to take our needs into account for today."

"But... but wait." She followed him to the door. "Zoro may not be able to, but at least you have to eat something. For over a month you've been hiding up there in the mountains, are you eating anything at all?"

Astonished, he looked down at her. She was actually worried, what a naive child.

"Perona, Roronoa and I are pirates. It is true that I have never lived on the street, but please do not underestimate my qualities to survive even in hostile circumstances. A few months away from civilization will certainly not kill me."

As soon as he opened the door, his presumption was confirmed, the painful cries had fallen silent. Quiet steps led him into Roronoa's room. Knowing that the other did not want him there, he stepped in.

Smiling, he realized that his little frog had indeed turned back into his male form. Mihawk did not know whether that should impress him. Of course, it was wise of Roronoa to transform himself into this form as soon as he could, as his self-healing powers and pain limit were much better in this body than in his other form. Nevertheless, Mihawk knew from numerous observations that the transformation from Lady Loreen to Roronoa Zoro could be from very unpleasant to even painful for his little frog.

In a situation in which Roronoa could hardly think straight because of the unimaginable agony, exposing himself to even further pain seemed almost like madness. Satisfied, Mihawk settled in his chair. So Roronoa was really about to leave his physical limits behind.

For a long time, he regarded the child in bed in front of him. But it was probably wrong to still call Roronoa a child. He had indeed changed a lot since their first encounter, not only externally, not only physically. Roronoa had not been a child for a long time, probably longer than Mihawk knew him, but as long as Mihawk pretended that Roronoa was still a child, it was easier for him.

Because he too had changed, he had become soft, emotional, but that seemed to be just an annoying aftertaste and not what really occupied him. The world had bored him, his life had drained him, nothing had really interested him and even less had been meaningful for him.

Now, however, he was no longer this tired, desolate Shichibukai. In just one year, Mihawk had changed, Roronoa had changed him. He had accepted his feelings for the youngster and their effects on him long ago. He knew that he was no longer the man who could watch the world's events and fell asleep unbothered. Because by now he had something - someone - that he cared for.

Of course, Roronoa would never be allowed to hear about these feelings. Purely for selfish reasons, of course. For even regarding Roronoa, Mihawk did not act selflessly, of course not. Mihawk had by now realized that his happiness and satisfaction depended on Roronoa. He was also aware that this dependence did not necessarily speak for him, but it was not like he cared about that. Thanks to Roronoa, Mihawk had found a meaning in life again, the world had lost its monotony, and Mihawk wanted it to remain this colorful.

For decades, Mihawk had not known how fulfilling life could be, but now that he had come to know these powerful feelings, now he did not want to lose them again, and since his feelings, his happiness, depended on Roronoa, he simply did not want to lose him. It was pure selfishness, he wanted Roronoa to be happy so that he too could be happy, no matter what that happiness would cost.

But if Roronoa knew his selfish feelings, he would probably turn away from Mihawk, or worse, pity him, and Mihawk did not want that. He did not want Roronoa to walk on eggshells around him.

You're the only one who doesn't treat me any different.

Mihawk buried his face in one hand.

Even this conversation here, I don't think anyone else would talk to me like that.

It was Roronoa who just did not understand. Despite all these months, he still did not understand that it was not Mihawk, not Roronoa's crew, or anyone else.

Did you even make a decision? Did you even choose anything here? Did you choose me over your crew?

So why, Roronoa? Why did you go with me when it was not for becoming a man again?

Mihawk knew why these questions had been so important to him back then, because he had developed feelings for Roronoa and had not wanted to dare to hope. Because he knew that Roronoa would hurt him sooner or later.

But Roronoa did not understand.

Because you were right. Because I finally understand it. And because you see me.

No, it was not that Mihawk was the one man on this earth who was able to see Roronoa for the person he truly was, not at all. It was the other way around. For whatever godforsaken reason, Roronoa had chosen Mihawk among all the people in his life to show him his true self. Mihawk could see Roronoa because Roronoa put off his mask only in front of him, and this knowledge filled Mihawk with an irrational pride, with a secret happiness.

But at the same time, this also meant that once Roronoa knew how Mihawk really felt, he probably would not take off his mask anymore. For Roronoa always took everybody into consideration, either because he wanted to protect them or to protect himself, only towards Mihawk he was honest despite the consequences.

Perhaps because Mihawk himself was strong, because Roronoa did not have to protect him, perhaps also because Mihawk could not control himself very well around Roronoa and treated him more honest than most. Perhaps also because Mihawk had demanded Roronoa's trust.

In the end, he did not know; but for whatever reason, he did not want to jeopardize this seemingly unique relationship, which only he was allowed to maintain with Roronoa, especially not by something as ridiculous as his own feelings.

A cough made Mihawk listen up. He had slipped down in his chair, obviously had fallen asleep, although he had not been very tired.

"Hey…"

He opened his eyes and looked over at Roronoa, who was breathing heavily and leaned against the head of his bed, his unsevered eye only halfway open and looking at him.

"Roronoa, you are awake?"

"Mhm... captain obvious..." His eyelids fluttered, he seemed to be in significant pain – in addition, Mihawk had given him an anti-inflammatory sleeping pill, contrary to his orders, which certainly did not make it easier to stay awake – and yet Roronoa no longer seemed to want to give in to sleep.

"You should rest. You are severely wounded. How long have you been awake?"

A faint grin slid over the pale features of his little frog, who nodded towards the window.

"For some… time..."

Mihawk followed his gaze and realized that reddish fog announced the end of a long day. Knowing that he had visited Roronoa's room during the early hours of the morning, he must have slept through the whole day.

"Seemed pretty tired," Roronoa remarked with a hoarse whisper as if he had guessed Mihawk's thoughts.

"My apologies," Mihawk muttered, rubbing his face, dismissing the thoughts he had been dealing with until now. "It does not speak for me that I just fall asleep during my watch."

Roronoa shook his head slightly. "No... maybe it was better... was pretty mad when I saw you..."

"Because I was here against your words?"

The younger one nodded.

"Have tried... to wake you up... but..." He shrugged his shoulders. Obviously, his voice was barely loud enough to be confused with a whisper, and of course he could not move much.

"And now you are not mad anymore?"

Again, Roronoa slightly shrugged his shoulders.

"Is' okay."

"You should sleep, Roronoa. The sooner you are feeling better, the sooner we can continue training."

"Can't," Roronoa said with a raised eyebrow. "will change soon."

"All the more reason to gather as much strength as possible beforehand. If you want, I will get you some medicine and maybe we should..."

"Mihawk... wait."

He had already gotten up to rush over to the small container with bandage material and the like, but Roronoa's weak objection made him pause as the other tried to sit up.

"Don't move, Roronoa." He rushed back to bed.

The younger had fainted in his female form on the mountain less than a day ago, succumbing to his injuries, and due to the high blood loss, Mihawk had been worried whether he would make it. He had lost more blood than any human being should, and yet he seemed to be doing much better – after all, he was alive and, beyond that, awake and talking.

"I... I have to tell you something," Roronoa whispered.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me later. You are feverish."

He reached for the little bowl of water and cloth, which undoubtedly was from Perona, and cleaned sweat from the younger man's forehead, cheeks, and neck.

"No... listen." Roronoa actually leaned forward and winced in pain.

Mihawk let go of the cloth and held Roronoa upright by the shoulder, knowing that he could only force this stubborn fool to lay down by actually pushing him down.

"I know what you want to say, Roronoa," he said calmly, looking at the other seriously. "It annoys you that you are now back in bed instead of training. You do not like waking up to me at your bedside like watching a sick or even moribund person. You hate being helpless, I know."

For a second, the younger one did not react at all, but simply met his gaze, as if he were highly concentrated on not simply collapsing. Then a quiet, throaty laugh rang out from the younger man's throat, obviously causing him pain, because directly he gasped for air.

"That's right," he whispered, closing his eye for a moment too long, "but I didn't mean that... I want to say..."

"Roronoa, sleep now. Tomorrow morning..."

"No!"

Mihawk was shocked when Roronoa grabbed him by the arm with his eyes wide open.

"No..." Breathing heavily due to the strain, Roronoa let himself sink back and closed his scarred eye again, while the other heavily stared at him. "Tomorrow... I won't ... tell you..."

What a strange statement, but even more shocking to Mihawk was that Roronoa could still move, he was still not done after all that had happened, at least in this form. A few months ago, Mihawk had refused to train Roronoa because of his eye-injury, and now he was already...

"Why? Why would you not tell me tomorrow anymore?" Mihawk asked, instead of pondering whether he had urged Roronoa to take a forced break du to his own feeling of guilt, or whether Roronoa had simply developed incredibly quickly.

"Because of... the fever..." A crooked grin crept over Roronoa's face. "Tomorrow... I will be fine..."

"Roronoa, no matter what it is. If you would not tell me with a clear mind, you should not tell me in a feverish state and under the influence of medication."

"But... otherwise I will... never say."

Although Mihawk knew it could not be related to the subject he had worried about until a few minutes ago, he could not prevent his heart from beating faster. It was impossible, and yet he waited anxiously for Roronoa's next words, as if he hoped that it was exactly what it was not allowed to be.

"Thank you."

Relief spread through him, relief, and a deep agony.

"You know... I have been thinking a lot… during the last days and… I realized that you had no... no reason to help me and... and yet you did." Heavily Roronoa panted and closed his unharmed eye. "When you said back then... that this room here would be mine..." He laughed quietly, obviously profoundly exhausted. "Had no idea what you meant... thought it was just some stupid saying. I... I never had... my own room... a home..."

Mihawk watched the younger man slowly slide down on his pillow, barely conscious.

"Always... always wondered how it had been for... the others. Nami, Usopp, even ... stupid cook... but had no idea... Tze... But now... it does hurt... to leave... some day... childish, right? But... like being here... is like... like my home..."

He did not respond when Roronoa slipped into a fevered sleep and muttered incomprehensible words on his pillow.

Mihawk was happy, incredibly happy, but it also hurt, unspeakably hurt.

He would never have dreamed that Roronoa would ever say something like this – as Roronoa had said, the fever was probably responsible for it – but it made him happy.

Home – a place to come home to - was a promise. Roronoa would return, at least to this island, at least to Kuraigana, at some point.

Slowly, Mihawk rose and began to pace through the room, he had offered Roronoa a year ago as his, a hand pressed over his trembling lips.

It does hurt... to leave...

He did not want to read too much between the lines, but maybe – just maybe – Roronoa meant not only the island, maybe he also meant Mihawk. Perhaps Roronoa also regarded the inevitable farewell with nostalgia.

Mihawk was certainly not a good person, for this thought gave him hope that he should not have.

At the same time, these words also gave him the assurance that he was never allowed to admit his feelings openly, because this was the home to which Roronoa could return. Mihawk was the one person Roronoa could truly open up to and all this would break if Mihawk revealed his feelings to him.

"You are pathetic, Mihawk. When did you become such a coward?" He whispered to himself, looking from the end of the room to the oversized bed. "Soon he will not need you anymore and then what? You will lose him even though he was never yours."

"And stop!"

"Oh Jirou, just a little bit..."

"I said No."

"Jiroushin, he's right. That was barely two minutes..."

"And I said stop. So, to make this clear, I'm the referee here, my word is law, otherwise I'll leave, but don't come back later bawling."

"Oh, Jirou, get off your high horse and..."

"Go into your corner and cool your mind, Hawky. Otherwise, you'll be done for today."

Gruff, Mihawk rolled his eyes and turned away with a condescending hand movement as he walked over to the pillar on which he had placed his shirt and vest. Next to it stood a small barrel with water.

Jiroushin was extremely annoying, and Mihawk wondered what the hell had gotten into him to let this useless pacifist visit the island. He knew that the coward would never let him fight for good, a weakling like him could not understand what a real fight was.

Roronoa was not as frail as when he had arrived at Kuraigana, and what would happen if Mihawk accidentally hit him more firmly? Roronoa would be able to tolerate one or two broken ribs. Besides, this uneducated brat always wanted Mihawk to fight him and to get serious, so he would also be able to bear the consequences.

It was not like Mihawk would kill him directly, he was just putting a little more force into his punches, just holding back a little less. After all, they did not even fight with swords, how bad could the injuries he would inflict on Roronoa be?

"Don't you think you're overstressing?" He heard the youngster mutter behind him. "He didn't seem any different to me."

Mihawk quietly agreed with his protégé. Of course, Jiroushin exaggerated excessively in his concern, as if Mihawk would just end up killing Roronoa, as if his mental state were so weak that he could not even control his attacks.

"Believe me, Zoro, that's it. Though I confess that he is losing his temper really quickly if it comes to you. Scary."

Mihawk was on the verge of turning around when his best friend called him out directly: "The bucket is not a decoration! Take a dive, Shichibukai!"

"You are pretty bossy today, you know that?" Mihawk growled but did what Jiroushin ordered and shoved his head into the cold water.

He deeply exhaled under water as he opened his eyes. It did not help much, and yet his mind cleared a little. It was not elegant to cool down in this way, but Jiroushin was right, Mihawk had just been about to lose control and seriously attack Roronoa. The youngster was probably able to survive an attack by now, but Mihawk did not want to give it a try and that was exactly why Jiroushin was present.

Three weeks ago, Mihawk and Roronoa had completed their ultimate training and had returned to the castle. Afterwards they had done nothing at all for a total of eight days and for the first time Roronoa had not complained about resting. Those days had been very pleasant, and they had used the free time to sleep half the day and laze around the other half, something they both seemed to be very good at.

At Perona's request, they had also planted several trees, which had been indeed a lot of fun for Mihawk – even if he would not admit it openly – and for a few days they had lived in consensual peace.

After that, Eizen's letter had come and peace was gone. As if the letter had reminded Roronoa that he was about to leave, he had insisted again that they would continue their training, and as if the letter had reminded Mihawk that Roronoa would soon leave, his mood had abruptly fallen.

Eizen had invited Lady Loreen to an important meeting in Mary Joa the upcoming week, exactly one week before Roronoa had wanted to travel to the Sabaody Archipelago one way or another, because the two years were almost over.

So Roronoa had wanted to train again – did this boy never get tired of it? - but the one thing Roronoa still had to learn, Mihawk could not teach him. It was the one thing Roronoa had to teach himself.

But since Roronoa learned more quickly in a direct fight, this discussion had come up shortly after the letter had arrived. Roronoa's arguments were also well-founded. Within two years Roronoa had become a serious opponent, Mihawk was of course still superior to him, but the gap between them was now moderate – finally moderate.

In recent months, Roronoa had mastered every challenge Mihawk had presented him with. Weeks in complete darkness; sleep deprivation, which almost resembled torture; pain that even Roronoa had not experienced before. Mihawk had driven Roronoa into madness, and Roronoa had survived, and was truly a master of the art of the sword and, beyond that, a true warrior.

After some back and forth, Mihawk had realized that they could really make the most use of the little time left by a direct confrontation, but since he still did not want to endanger Roronoa, he had considered a trick to prevent him from losing his control and to prevent Roronoa from being seriously injured or even mutilated three weeks before his fateful reunion with his crew.

This trick was Jiroushin. No one knew Mihawk as well as his best friend, and no one had seen him lose control as many times as Jiroushin. His former vice captain knew when Mihawk began to really fight mostly before Mihawk even noticed it, and he was one of the few, perhaps even the only one, Mihawk would listen to in such a situation. For no matter how determined and bossy Jiroushin could sound, neither his voice nor his posture showed aggression or combativeness.

Although Mihawk did not like it, Jiroushin was currently his only way to fight Roronoa, even without swords. On the other hand, Jiroushin was now the weakest one between the three of them and Mihawk did not want to risk something accidentally happening to him just because he was playing referee between Mihawk and Roronoa.

Mihawk also quietly admitted that he liked to see his best friend again as regularly as he had during the last two years. Since Mihawk had disbanded the crew and Jiroushin had become a respectable Marine, they had perhaps met once every six months when Mihawk had visited Sasaki quarterly and Jiroushin had also been present by chance, but even then they had usually little more time than for a brief chat.

Since Roronoa had stepped into Mihawk's life and Jjiroushin had helped teaching the youngster, they had seen each other almost more often than when they had still been employed by the Marine together. Mihawk and Roronoa had even interrupted their training a few months ago to attend Jiroushin's baptism, not his baptism, of course, but that of his brat, and Mihawk was now officially a godfather, another title of which he should be proud according to society.

To his surprise, Jiroushin had seemed to have almost waited for his call. Only a few days later the Vice Admiral had already arrived and now he was overseeing their small battles and stopped Mihawk from accidentally killing his little frog.

Sighing, he lifted his head out of the barrel.

"Oh, and I thought he was ending up drowning."

"Hawky can hold his breath for a very long time. Great when a devil fruit user is drowning. Totally annoying when the ship goes down and you think you've lost the captain because he comes up with the idea of attacking the enemy ship from the keel."

"Are you still upset about that?" Mihawk rubbed his face and hair with a towel, laid it aside, and joined the other two. "That was years ago. Besides, you did not actually think that I would step down that easily. "

He brushed back the wet strands of hair that were now hanging in his face. He could feel Roronoa's sharp gaze. The youngster had crossed his arms and tapped a steady rhythm against his upper arm with the index finger of his left hand. But it was his facial expression that almost made Mihawk blush; he thought he knew Roronoa's evil grin, but he had never seen the youngster look at him the way he did right now.

"What are you staring at, Roronoa?" He asked and brushed through his hair again.

"Oh nothing." But that dirty grin remained. "It just doesn't fit the all high and mighty Hawk Eyes to cool down in a damn bucket of water. Somehow pathetic."

"Hey," Jiroushin growled, raising a finger, "I don't condone such a tone here. Why are you suddenly so disrespectful towards Mihawk?"

Mihawk waved it off with a smile.

"Calm down, Jirou, he is always that disrespectful towards me. Have you not noticed that by now?"

"Only if I am right," replied the youngest one. "But let's be honest, you can't call this a fight if Jiroushin interrupts us every two minutes."

"You're aware that we're only doing this for you, because Hawky would kill you otherwise?"

"Oh, come on!" Roronoa threw both hands in the air and approached Mihawk directly. "Mihawk, come on, this isn't fun. You know how strong I am now. In a few months I will challenge you one way or the other, so why this dry practice?"

Now it was Mihawk who folded his arms and smiled down at his little frog.

"Roronoa, you should not be this cocky. Jiroushin is right. Indeed, you have become a skillful fighter, I admit that, but you have not experienced me when I..."

"And that's why we should do it!"

Mihawk clicked his tongue in disapproval as Roronoa interrupted him and slightly hit his shoulder.

"We both know that I've never really seen you fight, and it wouldn't have mattered before because I wouldn't have noticed how good you really are. But things have changed, I'm good, not just good, really, really good. I want to see how strong you are, I just want to see once how strong you are, so..."

"Roronoa." He raised both hands appeasingly. "As always, I welcome your enthusiasm, but..."

"Hawky is right, Zoro. If he kills you by mistake, I will have to listen to it until the end of his life."

"The end of my life? You assume that I will die before you?"

"You feed on scrambled eggs and wine, whiskey on tough days. You either don't sleep for days or 20 hours at once. You cross the open sea on a lifeboat and get into a fight with anyone who crosses your path. You're a walking life risk, Hawky, accept it."

"Could we please stay on the subject?" Roronoa was still standing right in front of Mihawk and looked up to him seriously. "You also want to know how much is really still between us, right? I promise you, I'm not going to die."

He shook his head slightly.

"Even if, I could seriously hurt you, Roronoa. No matter what, the risk remains..."

"which I'm willing to take... Please."

Helplessly, Mihawk looked down to his little frog. Rarely did Roronoa actually ask him for something, and Mihawk realized that it was hard for him to refuse, which of course did not surprise him, after all, he wanted this fight too and Roronoa had wrapped him around his finger a long time ago.

"What do you think, Jirou?" He muttered, without interrupting eye contact with Roronoa. "Do you think you could intervene quickly enough before I would seriously wound him?"

The blond sighed loudly.

"Oh, seriously? We both know that I would never be fast enough to stop one of your attacks. The question is if you will listen to me when I tell you to stop."

"And?" Now Mihawk looked up. "Do you think I would listen to you?"

It was a question he could not answer himself. Rather, he could only guess, and his guess would probably be 'no'. Taking a deep breath his best friend started pacing.

"You're both absolutely insane! Crazy! Two of a kind." He rubbed his face. "If this goes south, it's my fault because I haven't stopped you addicts."

"I challenge him, Jiroushin, so it's my fault if I end up dead," Roronoa directly contradicted, "it's my decision."

"Yes, of course. But we all know that I cannot stop Mihawk in doubt. To hell, what happens when the island blows up? Zoro, you have no idea what you're doing here! It's one thing to get him to reason before he turns around, but when he crosses the line…, you haven't seen anything like it."

Mihawk felt a little bit patronized when Jiroushin spoke of him, but he had given up his vanity at least since the barrel.

"I know," Roronoa muttered, turning to Jiroushin, "I have no idea what it means if Mihawk gets serious. But..." Suddenly the younger one looked at him again. "... if I want to defeat you, I need to know how far I still have to go, right?"

And that look was enough for Mihawk. He felt it in his limbs, in his blood, felt the fire electrify every single nerve in his body.

"Hawky?"

"Let's go to the mountain," he decided, and walked away. "Jiroushin, just have your rapier close to take me out in case of doubt. Roronoa, fight from the first second with everything you have and more. Release all your accumulated Haki, otherwise the last two years have been nothing more than a waste of time."