CHAPTER 15
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Diary of Dracule Mihawk, #986:
Caught Roronoa staring at Perona today over lunch. I asked him about it when she left the room and he denied it in an unnaturally vehement manner. He called me a "delusional old man" too.
I have decided that tomorrow's training will consist of hauling water from the river – three buckets at a time.
… … …
It took a few more days before Perona recovered sufficiently to resume her usual activities around the castle. But when she rejoined the men for breakfast, Zoro wished that she wasn't well enough for it. He found it uncomfortable to be in the same room as Dracule Mihawk and Perona after having read that page of that idiotic love story she had been writing. He could barely even look Mihawk in the eye after that and having Perona in the same room only made it worse.
Everything they did seemed to take on new dimensions. When Perona asked Mihawk to pass the salt, Zoro wondered if that was an excuse to speak to him. When Perona came out to watch the training, he suspected it was just a cover for her to spend more time with Mihawk. When Mihawk remarked on a particular hat of hers, Zoro took it as a sign that Mihawk was noticing things. When Perona braided her hair three days in a row, he suspected that perhaps Mihawk favoured braids. When Mihawk dropped a dry one-liner… Perona laughed. She laughed. That laugh had flirty overtones to his ears. Usopp had once said that women love guys who can make them laugh.
It was all simply disgusting. And irritating. Mihawk was supposed to be training him, not flirting with Perona!
He began to feel a great desire to complete his training as quickly as possible so he could leave Kuraigana. Being a third wheel did not suit him. And besides, if he managed to get back to Sabaody first, he could hold it over everyone else's heads – especially Dartboard-eyebrow.
So he worked harder than ever. Ran twice as many rounds, pushed himself to lift heavier weights, practiced his stances twice as frequently.
But he had to admit that even if Mihawk was carrying on some romance with Perona, he was not letting it affect his fighting methods. If anything, he was even better than before. That was maddening.
The situation was not only disgusting and irritating, it was also frustrating.
"Raw power alone will not win you all fights, Roronoa," said Mihawk during one sparring session. "You seem to be more energetic lately. But your recklessness is coming back. I thought you'd finally gotten some semblance of finesse into your style. Try again."
Zoro advanced on Mihawk at a run, both swords flashing as they caught the sunlight (for it was an unusually clear day in Kuraigana). But the attempt to catch Mihawk with two rapid slashes one after the other failed – a well-placed swing of Yoru redirected Shusui's point into the ground; and a quick turn of the wrist met the second blow from Sandai Kitetsu, bringing it to a sudden halt.
They stood there, locked in position. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zoro knew he should let go. He should relax and move back instead of trying to push against Mihawk's clearly superior hold and strength in the moment. But… But he really didn't want to lose to Mihawk and letting go seemed to him like giving up. He tried to press forward instead.
Pain shot through the arm that held Kitetsu against Yoru. That wasn't a good sign.
Then Mihawk withdrew his sword. The sudden loss of counter pressure caused Zoro to stumble forward. Kitetsu fell from his hand with a dull thump and he grimaced, his left hand going limp.
"You kept your grip on your sword too tight and for too long," Mihawk said. "Why did you insist on pushing back? Acknowledge your limits and find a new way around them. If you stubbornly persist in a losing move, it won't get you anywhere."
Zoro merely stared at his left hand, attempting to wiggle his fingers and rotate his wrist. He winced involuntarily. Oh, that was not good. It even looked like his wrist was beginning to swell.
"We're done for today. And tomorrow as well, I think."
Zoro opposed this. "I can go on! I'll just use one hand!"
"No. That's not going to heal overnight. Get Ghost Girl to patch you up first then rest tomorrow. We'll see after that." Mihawk sheathed his sword.
That was not to at all to Zoro's liking. "I can still train," he protested.
"If you insist on it, Roronoa, do some running tomorrow. Around the castle grounds only, please. But no exerting that hand unless you wish to make it worse."
Sulkily, Zoro trudged back to the castle behind Mihawk.
Perona greeted them by poking her astral form through the ceiling. A hollow followed her and hooted in Zoro's face as he mounted the stairs. Zoro growled at it. It giggled.
"You two are back early," Perona said.
Mihawk pointed at Zoro. "Roronoa's injured his wrist. Time for you to do your duty."
"Another injury?"
"I'm fine," said Zoro.
"I don't believe that," said Perona at the same time that Mihawk said in an aggravatingly sarcastic tone, "I'm sure she'll believe that, Roronoa."
Zoro flinched at their synchronicity. Were they even reading each other's minds now?
"I'll be right down," sighed Perona, and she floated away.
… … …
Perona came down to the dining room with the first aid kit and several hollows in tow. To her surprise, only Mihawk was there, helping himself to some wine.
"Where's Zoro?"
"Probably in his room. Or in the kitchen. Or the old library. With his sense of direction, who knows?" Mihawk sniffed the wine in the glass, glanced at it, and gave it an approving nod.
"Why'd he go to his room?"
"I haven't the faintest idea. Why don't you ask him? He's been behaving a little peculiarly on the whole."
She thought about that. It was quite true. "He has been a bit… Weird. Like he doesn't want to look at you when you talk to him? He gets a strange look on his face too sometimes." Plus, he's been avoiding me again.
"So you've noticed too. Good." Mihawk leaned back in his chair and picked up a book. "Go find out what's wrong with him."
"What? Why me? You're his teacher – why don't you ask him?" Two of the hollows floating around her head nodded as if in agreement with her.
"There are things that students don't tell teachers. Some things are reserved for – friends."
Perona noticed the tiny pause before the word "friends" and frowned uneasily. Mihawk had been about to say something else. What was it?
She shrugged as nonchalantly as possible and said, "Whatever. I'll go dig him out and see about that wrist."
Zoro was indeed in his bedroom. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his left hand upturned and resting on his knee. He glanced up when she opened the door and scowled.
"I'm fine." He turned towards the window on the other side of the room.
Perona rolled her eyes and shook her head. She waved away her hollows. He didn't like them much even when he was in a normal mood, and he appeared to be extra grumpy right then. She walked over to him, set the first aid kit on the floor and held out her hand. "Let me see."
"I'm fine, I tell you. Just leave the pain ointment stuff and then you can go do whatever."
"What? Don't be silly." She plopped herself down on the bed in front of Zoro and reached for the injured hand. "Don't fight me – you'll only make it harder."
He muttered something under his breath. She decided not to ask him to repeat what he'd said. It would probably be something aggravating.
Perona raised his swollen wrist carefully. She inspected the hand and the forearm. Nothing seemed to be broken; it was only the wrist that was hurt. Maybe some arm muscle was slightly strained too, judging by how his eyelids twitched when she pressed her fingers to parts of the forearm.
She observed wryly to herself that first she'd sprained her ankle and now Zoro had sprained his wrist and arm. What a parallel. I was a much less grouchy patient though.
"Okay," she said, "I'm going to put something on this and then wrap it up. It looks like a pretty bad sprain."
"Just get it over with."
The brusque way in which he spoke startled Perona. He was usually taciturn and gruff, but there was a dismissive, hard edge to his manner of speaking now that she hadn't heard in a long time. And he wasn't even looking at her!
"I'm trying to help here," she said, trying to mask the rising annoyance and hurt. She dabbed some cooling pain relief salve onto his wrist and then started to unroll the necessary bandages.
"Yeah, well, the sooner you're done, the sooner you can get back to – whatever other stupid things you usually do. Fussing over Mihawk or whatever."
Perona jerked her head up. He was still staring resolutely out the window. She felt anger bubble up and over.
"What is wrong with you, Roronoa Zoro?"
He turned his head slightly and gave her a sidelong look.
"I am trying to help you here, you twit!" Her voice rose in pitch as she got angrier. She waved the roll of bandages at him. "Why do you have to be so rude these days? You were like this at the start, but you haven't been this – this mean since then!"
Something that resembled emotion flickered across his face.
"And what do you mean by 'fussing over Mihawk'? When have I ever fussed over Mihawk? I don't 'fuss' over anyone except Kumashi and Kumashi isn't here!" The memory of her beloved zombie bear suddenly made her want to cry.
Zoro suddenly spoke again. "I'm not blind. I can see what's going on around me!"
"Huh? I don't even know what you're talking about anymore. You sound like a – like some stupid jealous boyfriend!"
Her hollows popped into existence all around her and they glared at Zoro.
"I do not!" exclaimed Zoro, eyeing her hollows warily. "Why would I be jealous?" He looked disgusted by the idea.
The expression on his face nettled her further. "I'm not saying that you are! That's just what you sound like."
I wish you were jealous…
"That's stupid."
"Forget it." Perona pulled his hand forward – a little harder than she'd meant to – and proceeded to wrap his wrist tightly with the bandages. When she was done, she gathered the first aid things and left the room without another word.
She went to the dining hall and flung the door open. Mihawk looked up at her.
"Make your own dinner today," she said. "Or make that stupid ass upstairs do it. I don't care. I'm not going to."
She didn't wait for a reply. She went straight back to her own room, dropped the first aid kit on the floor, and threw herself on the bed. She buried her face in a pillow and screamed into it.
What was it that people always said? Love is blind? If that was true then she couldn't possibly really have any feelings for that idiot. Yet she knew that his behaviour grated on her so because she did rather like him. Oh, for the days when she lived in blissful ignorance of what it was to have a crush on someone…
… … …
Zoro considered not going down to dinner at all. But then his stomach began to rumble and he finally gave in and went to the dining hall. To his surprise, Mihawk sat there alone with a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread, and some fried fish on a plate.
"Hungry at last, Roronoa?"
Zoro nodded as he sat down. Where was Perona? She clearly hadn't made the dinner – the soup, bread, and fried fish were Mihawk's version of a quick meal. He resisted the desire to ask where she was. He didn't care where she was anyway. It was just surprising that she wasn't there with Mihawk.
He scooped out some soup from the large bowl into a smaller one that Mihawk handed to him. He helped himself to several slices of bread and one of the two fried fish.
"How's your wrist?" asked Mihawk.
"It's fine."
"What did Ghost Girl say about it?"
"Didn't she tell you?" Zoro felt sure that Perona had already given Mihawk her opinion on his injury. Why should he bother repeating himself? He dipped a piece of bread into the soup and ate it.
"She may have called you a few names, but she didn't tell me anything otherwise."
"She – what?"
"What did you do this time to drive her into such an angry mood, Roronoa?
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"Do you not?"
Mihawk moved the remaining fish to his own plate and began cutting it up into smaller pieces.
Zoro tried to picture what would happen if he threw his bowl of soup at Mihawk. The worst case scenario would be that Mihawk would kick him out and quit teaching him. The latter part was bad, but being kicked out almost sounded good to him. At least he wouldn't have to watch Mihawk and Perona making eyes at each other.
The rest of the meal passed in silence. Zoro ate as fast as he could, not wanting to stay long in case Perona decided to show up. Just as he finished the last scrap of fish, Mihawk said, "Perhaps you owe her an apology."
"I owe her an apology? What for?"
"From experience, it's usually something you've done that riles her up to that extent."
"I didn't do anything! I just said –" Zoro stopped short. He couldn't tell Mihawk what he'd said. It would just make things even more awkward. Mihawk might demand an explanation which would need him to talk about that disgustingly sappy love story.
"So you did say something to her. Presumably something offensive."
"Hey, she gets mad over every little thing!"
"She does get irritated a good deal. But you must admit that she doesn't often get very, very angry."
"You wouldn't think she's twenty-three," muttered Zoro. Writing stupid love stories about herself and saying I'm acting like a jealous boyfriend. Gah. Can't believe I bothered to read to her. He rolled his eyes at his now-empty plate.
"And I sometimes don't think you're nineteen – or twenty," countered Mihawk. "You two really are a pair."
"What are you talking about? You two are the pair, if anything!"
Mihawk gave him a curious look. Zoro didn't like that.
"'You two are the pair'? I am not certain I fully understand your meaning."
Oh crap.
Zoro reached out for his glass of water, wishing he could take Mihawk's wine instead. "Never mind," he said.
"By 'you two', were you referring to the Ghost Girl and myself?"
Not answering seemed like the best option. Dracule Mihawk appeared disturbingly telepathic at times. Zoro tipped the water down his throat.
"Hmm. Are you jealous, Roronoa?"
Zoro choked, sputtered, and coughed. "Jealous?"
Mihawk smiled slowly, smugly. Zoro got the sense that his reaction had been exactly what Mihawk wanted.
"You sounded like you were."
"I am not. What would I be jealous of?"
"Under normal circumstances, I would say: my skill, my looks, or" – he pointed to something behind Zoro – "my title."
Zoro turned and for the first time, he noticed a shiny golden plaque on the wall. It was emblazoned with the words Mr. Seven Warlords: Dracule Mihawk. Where had that come from? He wanted to chop it into tiny pieces.
"But," continued Mihawk, "in this circumstance, my guess would be that you are jealous of what you assume to be Perona's preference for me."
Never mind the plaque. Chopping Mihawk into tiny pieces would feel more satisfactory.
Zoro scoffed at the idea. "Your guess is wrong. She can prefer whoever she wants. I don't care." He pushed his chair back and got up.
"Wash your own plate and things, Roronoa. I'm not doing them for you."
He gathered his plate, bowl, fork and spoon with a clatter, kicked the door open and marched down the stairs.
That Mihawk was getting dumb ideas. Just like Perona. What was with the sudden mentions of jealousy and stuff? Where did they get such ideas anyway?
He opened the door and walked… Into the courtyard.
This isn't the kitchen.
… … …
Mihawk took a small cloth out of a drawer and wiped a smudge off his plaque (which was a gift from the Coo News Agency). Poking fun at his protégé was entertaining. He was certain that Zoro had developed the notion that there was an attachment between Perona and himself. It had dawned on him when Zoro had blurted out the line "You two are the pair!" Where or how Zoro had conceived that idea Mihawk didn't know, but he hadn't been able to resist needling Zoro.
Did that boy really have no self-awareness? Zoro was either unaware of his feelings or else he truly did not care for Perona. The latter didn't seem logical, given his behaviour. He had even been spending more time than usual sitting in her room. (Mihawk had looked in once and found them both asleep – Perona in her bed and Zoro on a chair nearby. That had been an odd sight.) The third option was that Zoro knew how he felt, but was trying very hard to suppress it for some reason. That did not quite fit with Zoro's personality, so Mihawk discarded the idea. Lack of awareness was the most likely. Roronoa Zoro was jealous, and didn't know he was jealous.
Mihawk stepped back, observed the shine on the plaque with satisfaction, and put the cloth away.
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A/N: I'm beginning to run into massive writer's block again (partly due to real life). It's the irritating sort of block wherein I know what I want to happen in general but when I try to write it out in detail, it just doesn't seem to work. Sigh. Fortunately, namibean is there to help when I need feedback or when I need to bounce ideas off someone!
Anyway, hope you're all still interested in the story ^^ Thank you for reading!
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