"Sanji, please!" the raven haired man insisted with a clap of his hand. "I need your phone, I still need to contact Zoro, you know he gets lost easily!"

The blond expelled a weighty sigh, replied, "Okay, fine, I don't know if he's still blocking my number though."

Zeff's car had been parked in the nearby parking lot, in front of the bar that Mihawk was in, and the two men were engaged in a hushed argument about whether Sanji's phone would be useful or not. Sanji was nervous to be calling Zoro, imagined the swordsman's disgusted face at seeing his name as his caller ID.

But even so, he wouldn't, couldn't, allow his friend, that damn marimo, to miss this chance.

"Here," he handed Ace his phone.

Ace scrolled down the list of friends, went all the way down to "Z" and quickly pressed the call button next to Zoro's name.

"Come on buddy, pick up your damn phone," he mumbled mindlessly.

He noticed that his lips went dry, as quickly as the stillness of the atmosphere surrounding him. In a stunted silence, he stood motionlessly, felt his heart pound and build into an even rhythm, until the phone began to ring once more with the name "Sanji" stretched out in front, then the rhythm hastened like fast beats from a metronome.

Zoro pressed the cold surface against his cheek. "Hello?" he answered, his voice resembling an animated mouse.

A relieved sigh came from the other end. "Zoro, thank god." Before the swordsman could intervene, the man on the other line continued to speak, "Thank god you picked up, I thought I would've had to knock down Mihawk for you."

"Ace?" He felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

The man on the line hastily spoke, all in a rush, "I called to tell you to use your GPS and get here fast, alright? Tonight is not the time for you to be stubborn." There was the sound of a mechanical beep then the click of Ace's tongue. "Shit, this phone is dying too." He paused, perhaps to summarize his subsequent words. "Zoro, hurry the hell up, today's the long-awaited chance." The swordsman could almost hear the smirk from the other line.

"I kno-"

The other line was cut off, which interrupted his reply.

Shit.

He wanted to ask why Ace had Sanji's phone, whether that dumb ass cook was there with him and why.

As he stomped his way over to his black vehicle, he noticed dark clouds rolling in from the East overhead, creeping in to overlap the clear blue sky and the white clouds, to blacken the picturesque scene with its grotesque darkness.

There was a wooden chair nailed to the pizza shop next to the bar, and Sanji and Ace, in an exhausted silence, both completely immersed in their own thoughts, sat on it with their heads hanging low.

Sanji's day had been split into multiple parts, one after the other, each crazier than the last, relentlessly pushing him to be active, unforeseen events occurring as though Luffy was following him around everywhere. Although he was weary, he wasn't so sad or anxious anymore, rather his skin was humming with release as though he had missed this, but his eyelids were still drooping because of the heavy bags beneath his eyes. He buried his face into his hands, and in that darkness he heard the buzzing noise of drunken old men laughing, cheering from the bar, the shuffling sounds and Italian men speaking in heavy accents from the pizza shop behind him, the rustling noise of lined up trees around the parking lot, and... an earsplitting screech made by tires?

"Ah, Kuina," Ace said, active and alert, as he jumped to his feet at the sight of a car model similar to Zoro's, which parked sloppily in front of them.

When she stepped out, black hair giving her a devious look, her white sword strapped to her waist, baggy clothes but her curves still accentuated, Sanji gulped with perhaps intimidation but also admiration.

"Ace!" she greeted the man who had stepped in front of Sanji, then hugged him, a quick touch, not long enough for it to be intimate and scandalous.

Then, upon the familiar greeting, Ace stepped aside, and her heavy gaze fell upon the blond. "Sanji," she breathed out in a faint surprise. He had expected a negative reaction, like an I-can't-believe-you-kissed-my-boyfriend reaction, not a tight hug that pulled them together. "I haven't seen you in so long," she murmured next to his ear, a sigh of relief that breathed down his neck.

Then he understood that she knew nothing of what had occurred between him and Zoro, the kiss nor the confession.

When she released him and stepped back, Sanji scratched his head and responded with, "Sorry I've been busy with finding a new job and all," the same old bull shit he used on Zeff.

Ace looked around, behind her, inside the car, asked, "So... where's Zoro?"

Kuina answered, "I got a little head start, he's coming soon." Then with excitement brimming in her eyes, she asked the two, "Where is Mihawk?"

Simultaneously, both of the men pointed to the bar with their index fingers.

An elongated curve of her lips made her mischievous, bad, almost like Nami after she takes stacks of wallets from sorry ass men around the club. "Let's get this shit started," Kuina smirked as she gripped the white handle of her sword.

As stimulating as this all was, Sanji could not help but to release a yawn that watered his eyes.

When they entered, the doorbell rang, and the bartender welcomed them as they stepped inside; and although, Sanji noted, that Dracule Mihawk was sitting among them with a giant sword stretched across his back, and his drinking partner, a red haired man with three scars gashed across his eye, also had a sword around his hip, no one in the bar seemed too bothered by it, so not one single fuck was given when Kuina walked in, as well.

"God," she gasped, her eyes widening.

Ace lightly pushed her back with the palm of his hand, urged, "Go before he gets too drunk."

Kuina nodded, at Ace, at Sanji, at Mihawk who sat in the midst of these noisy drunken men.

At the approach of the table, the red haired man glanced at them and grinned, "Hey, hey, hey, kids." And although his drinking partner acknowledged their presence, the swordsman, with the cup of ruby wine in his hand, did not even bother to glance their way.

"Let me guess, a mediocre swordsman asking for a challenge."

The red haired man tilted his head, "Well... it's not a man, it's a fine lady."

The woman slammed her fist on the grimy wooden surface of the table, growled, "Accept my challenge, Mihawk, I came here to win." She was audacious, Sanji gave her that, because he would've flinched even at the sight of those golden eyes directed at him.

The man sighed, bore his eyes into hers, before speaking in a monotone of voice, "It is quite rare that a woman challenges me, but it has been done before." He paused, "Women have to work harder than men because their strength lacks from birth; and they may have dexterity and grace but those skills are useless when there is a direct confrontation where strength is inevitably a part of swordsmanship. I cannot accept your challenge because I do not feast upon weaklings, I have no expectations on those that are bound to fail."

Sanji gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.

How dare he make a fool out of her?

But Kuina was fuming, she breathed heavily and her expression was contorted with infuriated rage, "You won't accept my challenge because I'm a woman?" Her voice rang with hurt, contempt dripping with the last word.

"If you were strong enough you would understand that your sword cannot defeat mine, yet you can't because you're hopelessly blind to the vastness of the world," he snapped, and although the gold in his eyes reminded Sanji of the rising of the sun, it was not warm but cold, sending down shivers down his spine.

The blond winced, he could only imagine how Kuina felt.

"Aw, come on, Hawky, give her a chance, she looks pitiable," the red haired man insisted as he nudged Mihawk's cheek with his forefinger, poking the hair on his upper lip.

Ace puffed his cheeks to stifle his laughter before his eyes widened. "Hey, I know you from somewhere, right?" He directed his question towards the red haired man, who narrowed his eyes at the sight of the raven haired man.

"Aren't ya Luffy's brother?" he asked.

Ace's face broke out into a grin, "Shanks! I haven't seen you in years!"

Though the men reminiscing the past lightened the situation a bit, the tenseness between Kuina and Mihawk remained steady. She was persistent on convincing him, almost pleading with him, "This is my ambition, if you won't accept my challenge how would I ever achieve that?"

Sanji chest thudded, the tenacious behavior of hers reminded him of Zoro, and he realized that the two were exactly alike in the way they pursued their dreams, always looking forward to it without making some bullshit excuse about the impossibility around it; and if he hadn't fallen in love with that dumb ass marimo first, he probably would've fallen hard for this beautiful woman standing before him.

The swordsman sighed when he saw those determined, unwavering gaze from the woman who refused to turn away at a simple 'no'.

"This better not be a waste of my time," he said, which caused the group to gape with surprise. "As an early notice, my choice of weapon will not be this one," he pointed at the sword across his back.

"Thank you," Kuina expressed, so genuinely that it bloated the blond with pride. "Thank you," she repeated.

Mihawk appeared grim, a frown pulling at his lip, "Do not thank me, child. This is a gamble of your life, you will die if you lose."

She easily encountered that with a bold smirk, her arms crossed, "I should have never picked up a sword if I had not been prepared for death. I'd rather die trying to achieve my dream, with no regret, than miss this chance, and if I die tonight then... so be it."

For the first time tonight, Mihawk's stoic expression cracked as he laughed, a sort of "wahahaha" and "kukukuku" sounds bubbling with mirth and amusement, it scared Sanji at first but it really lifted the mood.

"So... where are you guys going to fight?" the man named Shanks interrupted, cutting the flow of the conversation.

The sword dangling by his hip was swinging and knocking against Sanji's calves, and the cook wondered why there were so many swordsman he knew when he lived in the 21st century. He wondered whether he had been knocked up to a parallel universe where carrying swords was a typical accessory that everybody carried around. It wouldn't be the craziest thought tonight.

Ace responded, "Well, since fights are illegal, especially with anything involving weapons, the fight should be away from the prying public eye, so away from this bar and somewhere vacated."

"It really does not matter as long as we are not caught..." Kuina paused, contemplative expression on her delicate features, a finger lightly pressing against her plump lips. "But... what better place than an actual dojo itself?" she grinned.

There had been many strange events in her life, like the first time she realized that there was an attraction for the competitive boy she used to loathe, that stupid green haired boy who decided that more swords meant more strength when he first came around the dojo, but not even that, as weird it initially was, could possibly compare to the situation at hand at the moment. She gripped the wheel and twisted it as her nerves danced around her fingers, practically feeling Mihawk's gaze on the back of her head.

The two of them were alone in her vehicle because Shanks had decided to take Sanji's car and Ace decided to stay behind to wait for Zoro.

Her chest tightened at the thought of Zoro, whom she kissed fervently right before her leave. She knew that that was a spur-of-the-moment sort of impulse. Zoro felt the rekindle of their relationship for that split second, perhaps convinced himself that she was all that was good in the world, but she knew that as soon as he sees the cook, she would be flushed out of his thoughts. She was an obstruction in their relationship, an obstacle in their story, the antagonist that prevented them from pursuing happiness, but... she loved him so much, and it hurt like a bitch that the boy who came around and liked her back did not feel the same about her anymore.

She pulled into the driveway, felt the bumps of rocks she drove over, and when she stopped the engine she realized that her father was standing in front of the house in his gray yukata.

Admittedly, she gulped in fear. Her father was terrifying at times, with that friendly glint in his eyes and that soft smile. If he had been a murderer, that would be the last expression any victim would see before falling to their death, it was frightening enough to knock people to their deaths. That was the expression he had waiting for them.

Kuina was afraid that he would tell her to stop, that she was a woman and she had no chance, if anyone could knock Mihawk off his high stool it would be Zoro.

She bit her lips, felt cruel for thinking of them as such.

Sanji parked his next to hers, meticulously placed it parallel to her vehicle, and he stepped out to greet Koshiro before she could, shook his hands with a charming smile.

Her father had this weird twinkle in his eye, it was evident that he liked the blond, "Ah, glad to see you again, Sanji."

"Koshiro, it's great to see you again," Sanji replied.

Then her father, with his back straight and his expression stern, walked over to Dracule Mihawk, stretched his arm out to shake his hand. "Koshiro," he introduced himself.

"Mihawk," Hawkeye responded with a shake of the older man's hand.

They stared at each other, neither side blinking, silent as though communication with another method, and it made her uncomfortable, made her skin crawl with anxiety. "I challenged him to a duel, dad, it would be nice if I could get some support," she was still biting her lips nervously. Support, but rather acceptance, confidence in her abilities, belief that she, not Zoro, can earn the title as the best swordsman as a woman, that's what she wanted from her father.

Koshiro turned to look at her, released Hawkeye's hand, and unexpectedly smiled, "It's your life to lead, your decision, Kuina, if you won't regret it then I won't stop you."

Relief washed over Kuina, tears welled up in her eyes and dribbled down her cheeks with a rosy hue, streaked their way into her mouth until she could taste its salty flavor. She stepped forward to hug him, to wrap her arms around his thin body, forgotten how he smelled like. How skinny her father actually was, she realized.

Their last hug was at her mother's funeral, when he had wrapped them closer to hide his tears, she felt how he had trembled as he wept from despair, how broken her father was.

Kuina led the way to the dojo room, the rest followed in silence, Koshiro stayed behind.

The blue mats were spread messily around, clothes were on top of them, and she realized that her and Zoro forgot to clean up this morning, or any mornings. She groaned, felt repentant on feeling lazy earlier.

Kuina cleared her throat in embarrassment, "We should fight outside instead."

"But, my love, it's dark outside," Sanji pointed out.

The concern was sweet but she didn't need to be babied, "Well, neither Mihawk or I will have an advantage then."

She recalled her father telling her that a true swordsman can wield his sword without the need of seeing, he can rather feel his surroundings by connecting with them; and sure enough, with meditation and training, Kuina indeed felt her surroundings rather than seeing them, allowed her sixth sense to take over instead.

Kuina stepped outside, felt the frigid air nipping at her skin, and behind her the swordsman, his partner, and the cook followed, all breathing out warm air in contrast to the cold.

Mihawk laughed, "Kukuku, I admit, I'm curious what you can do." Though his words were flattering, when he plucked the cross from his neck and revealed a small dagger, Kuina fumed with anger and humiliation.

"Are you mocking me?" she snapped.

How dare he think that that mere toy can defeat me.

"I'm sorry-" he paused, tracing his fingers across the dagger to the pointed tip. "-that I don't have a smaller blade than this." He smirked, mockingly, as he held the dagger in front of him.

Kuina reddened with rage, felt her body move upon impulse before her thoughts could process how stupid it was to act before thinking, especially against someone like Mihawk. She unsheathed Wado and swung, to slice the cold air where Mihawk's neck was, but Hawkeye stopped the attack as easily as he would've flipped a page of a novel, with a flick of his wrist his dagger halted all movements by Kuina. He appeared bored, disappointed, so she hastened her swings, used her best moves against him, twisted and turned and struck, aimed for the vital organs, but Hawkeye retaliated with light swings of his arm, hardly moving at all from his spot.

Anything, Kuina thought. Why won't they hit?

She was sure at least one of her techniques would break through, because what were all those years for if she could not prove them? But the loss of composure made her attacks repetitive and easier to block, she knew this yet she continued because at the moment losing meant death and she'd rather live with the title as the best swordsman than die here.

A slicing sound was made as the two metal surfaces met, scraping against each other after the harsh impact, and though Kuina put all her strength into the attack she was the first to step back— well, pushed back— as Mihawk stood in place, his dagger at hand; he neither dodged or went on the offensive, which infuriated her to the core, but the worst was that bored expression lingering on his face.

That bastard-

Her movements were beginning to slug from the excess exertion, her arms were getting tired from swinging at empty air and getting parried by the small dagger, such a small instrument of weapon yet enough to ward Kuina off.

Was it this far all along? she silently wondered in her misery.

She sought to win— no, needed to win— yet it was so far, Hawkeye, the title, the will to win, it was all so far.

A sense of doubt shivered down her spine and there was an opening, the slightest hesitation that was her greatest mistake. Mihawk took the chance to ripple through her shoulder with the dagger, dislocate her collarbones as it dug deep into her flesh, and open them up like he was cutting through a stick of butter. Her knees shook, trembled along with her body, but she refused to fall. Kuina gave a weak smile to those confused set of golden eyes. Her hand instinctively rose to squeeze the man's hand, which was wrapped around the hilt of the dagger, and she dug her nails into his skin, a weak attempt at fighting back.

Faintly, there was the blond's voice calling out her name.

Ah, why are you here?

In a situation like this shouldn't Zoro be the one here instead?

"Why aren't you stepping back?" Mihawk asked, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

With the crimson blood streaking down from the corners of her curved mouth, she spoke, heavy pants in between her words, "Because... if I back away now, I would lose this battle and all the promises I made... cough... I cannot betray those who believe in my strength... I refuse to step back." It was more than that, all that pain and suffering had been building up to this point, she believed that perhaps she deserved to win because wasn't there a point to all this? Her resolution was clear, she carried dreams and hopes from her childhood, the will of a little girl who wanted to be free.

Mihawk pulled the dagger out and Kuina voiced a painful cry, with sharp intakes of cold air into her lungs.

"I see, you have a spirit that earns my attention." He cleaned the blade of the dagger and sheathed it, back into a necklace that he placed around his neck once more; then, he withdrew the long black crucifix-like sword from it's scabbard. "This blade is named Kokutou Yoru, it is the sharpest blade in the world, and it will be your last opponent."

The mighty sight of the black cross sword made her mouth go dry.

I can't die here...

Mihawk disappeared, as quick as light itself, from her sight.

Where?

She swallowed her saliva, felt her throat clog up in fear. I can't die here. She closed her eyes since they weren't much reliable anymore, focused on her other senses to guide her, like the slightest shift of a pebble or the breath of Mihawk's sword, anything like... a stick breaking under a heavy boot.

Kuina jerked her katana above her head to block the massive sword from coming down on her, held up the brutal weight grinding against Wado, making her muscles scream with agony. She saw the popping blue veins across her arm, bulging as if about to explode, and she felt the streaking drops of sweat dribbling down her face, dangling from her eyelashes.

"Impressive," Hawkeye commented before vanishing again.

Hah... hah...

Her vision began to blur, presumably from blood loss, but she remained alert. It was probably her last remaining will because she was somehow able to impede those vicious attacks from the swordsman. She wondered about Sanji subconsciously, or consciously, she couldn't tell anymore, why he hadn't disrupted the battle yet, she hardly doubted that he was honoring her or anything, it was probably because that red haired man was holding him back.

Then she heard it before she felt it, the blade crushing her bones and piercing her chest, it all happened so quick that she did not notice what had occurred until she saw Mihawk in front of her once more, with that bored look of his.

Bastard-

She fell to her knees, grabbed the blade with her hand because it was too uncomfortable, the iron piercing her body. She did not feel the pain itself, probably the adrenaline that kicked in, but she felt like she couldn't breath any longer. The oxygen was stuck in her lungs and her body was crying out in anguish. She pleaded with her eyes, met those cold golden eyes, until Mihawk withdrew the blade out from her body.

Kuina saw the blood that carpeted the ground beneath her, the ruby-like color that was surrounding her vision.

Was it this far all along?

She clenched the blood and dirt altogether, cried out in fury, and punched the ground.

How could it be so far away?

"I lost," she croaked as she collapsed, Wado resting in the pool of blood next to her.

A clear voice rang, echoed to her subconsciousness, before her vision faded away, before she saw a curtain of blond hair in front of her, "If you live, explore the world and improve, I will be there at the end of your journey, waiting for you until my last breath."

Then she was left with a strange sound of heartbeats.

Bathump…Bathump…Bathump

.~.~.~.~.

"Wake up, Kuina!

Her eyelids flew open. For some hell of a reason, she had expected a vision of red surrounding her but there weren't any (of course there weren't any), only silky white sheets rumpled around her, polished clean, not a speck of dirt or blood in sight.

Now what was she doing again?

"We have to go," the same voice urged.

Oh, yeah.

She slid off her bed, called out, "Sorry, I'll be there in a minute, dad!" She dressed in an over-sized T-shirt and jeans, as she always did, straightened her scuffled hair with her fingers before meeting up with her father and an annoying boy named Zoro.

"Hurry up," the boy demanded, ill-mannered when he was younger than her, though she had to say that he was beginning to beat her in height and weight.

Kuina rolled her eyes, "Shut up before I hit you with the bamboo sword again."

Zoro's dark features reddened, embarrassed that he had lost last night, as well as every other nights. "I'll beat you soon, you'll see, I'll be the greatest swordsman someday."

She chuckled, "Come on, dumb ass, we're both going to be late."

The pair ran out the door, with Koshiro behind them waving his hands, and the whole way they chit chatted about swords and stuff, the things that were important to them. Zoro was still an annoying brat but ever since he entered middle school he had been more insightful and patient, probably the meditation he did every night; therefore, mornings were usually the highlight of her days and the evenings when they engage in honorable battles.

Of course school was her least favorite part. If it was possible, she would drop school to train all day.

Damn, I'm late.

Obnoxiously, everyone turned to stare at her when she walked into class.

"Kuina, please take a seat immediately," the old witch snapped at her.

God, I wanna get out of here.

She recalled a conversation with her father the night before when he told her that she had to be more feminine. It disgusted her, the word feminine, such a negative connotation behind it. It had an undertone of fragility and dependence while the word masculine had strength and dominance. How dare her father treat her like a girl, isolate her from his teachings and expect her to focus on studies, it was fucking preposterous. He could not do such a thing, disregard his daughter from swordsmanship, how could he be so damn sexist?

During times like those, the only one by her side was infuriatingly Zoro.

It was strange how he was more mad at Koshiro than herself, he told her father how formidable she was compared to other boys, even adults, that he would not have any competent opponents if he prevented her from practicing swordsmanship.

The bell rang and it interrupted her train of thoughts, the teacher told them to pack up their stuff and enjoy their days, in that demanding tone of voice she always has. After leaving the classroom, she was greeted by the green haired boy, who wedged into her line of vision as soon as she pushed the door open.

"Hey," he greeted.

Admittedly, they were two loners in the school, they only hung out with each other and alone if the other wasn't there, it was because other kids did not understand the importance behind swordsmanship or training or meditating. They were different, they were leading a different lifestyle than other children who were all consumed by technology and the media.

They were weird. They sat alone in lunch, no one wanted to converse with them, they were too different. What are they eating? they whispered aloud when Zoro pulled out his rice balls from a plastic container. Ew, it reeks, some obnoxious kid commented.

Of course Zoro ignored them, ate it without a care in the world, and Kuina did the same.

"I'll go get napkins for us," she offered since the sticky rice pieces were clinging to her fingers. As she sprinted across the cafeteria, a bulky kid purposely stood in front of her so she would run into him, and her rice ball stuck to his chest.

"Watch where you're fucking going."

Kuina glared at the boy, irritated by the ill-manner he was displaying, but she had learned from her father that some opponents were too low of a specie to even bother with so she murmured "sorry" under her breath.

"Gross, dude, look at that shit on your chest," his underling commented.

"Ah," the bulky kid yelped like some dog shit was on him. "Fucking disgusting."

The cafeteria became silent, as they all anticipated some blood to be drawn, by Kuina or by those kids, but they were probably rooting for the two assholes since most of them were sneering in her direction. She knew she could take these losers on any day, but not in school, probably at some parking lot during midnight, but not where the teachers were. Speaking of which, weren't they supposed to be stopping him?

"Ya ugly little mutt," he said as he took the tray his underling was holding and dumped its content on her, smearing tomato sauce to drip down her face. "You look better with red hair," he snorted, snickering like he had pulled the cleverest joke in the history of jokes.

There were gasps and giggled from behind her.

She was enraged, nostrils flaring, fists clenching, teeth gritting, the type of anger that could kill someone. She took a dangerous step forward.

"Oho," he mused. "You're mad, aren't ya, ugly bitch."

She retracted her arm, put all her strength into it, and imagined the kid's teeth being knocked out and nose being broken.

Then a figure intercepted them, jumped on the bulky boy before she could herself.

"Zoro!"

"Get the hell off me," the older boy flailed and squirmed beneath Zoro's body, whose legs were strapped onto his plump waist, caging him to the floor.

Zoro smirked, a sick, malicious, blood-thirsty smirk she had seen on him plenty of times. He drew back his fist and punched the kid experimentally, and probably felt good because his mouth tugged in amusement, then he punched repetitively, dug into the kid's cheekbones until they were bruised purple and his lips were cleaved in the middle.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" the whole cafeteria chanted.

The security pulled the two boys away, with a level of difficulty with Zoro, the infamous troublemaker. Even she had to be dragged along to the principal's office, where the three of them had to sit there in an awkward silence. The principal called them in one by one, Kuina was the first.

The man in charge sat in front of the window, leaned on his elbows and his chin rested on his palms. "Hey," Aokiji, the principal of the school greeted. "You were involved in the fight?" He didn't appear to be the principal, or anyone who should be in power, with the way he leisurely sat back and with that blue eye mask on his forehead. He appeared too lazy, bored, she wondered how the school was running properly.

"No," she replied.

He nodded, jotted something down into his notebook. "Alright, you're free to go, you can go home," he told her with a wave of his hand and a yawn.

Kuina furrowed her brows, "Wha- Just like that?" That was too easy.

"Just like that," he confirmed. "Send the next person in before you leave."

Though she could have left, she waited until Zoro was finished conversing with the principal, as well, which took a helluva lot longer than when she had been in there. When he finally came out, he appeared as confused as she initially felt. "What happened?" she asked, curious whether he got suspended or not. He tucked in his hands inside his pockets as he began to walk down the hallway.

"What happened?" she asked again.

"Same old shit, he suspended us for a week, blahblahblah."

When the two of them exited the building, they saw a streak of lightening then heard a deafening sound of thunder roaring above them.

"A storm."

"Pretty soon," he said.

Tiny droplets began to wash down from the gray sky, plopping against the ground and wetting their clothes, washing away any remainders of tomato sauce from Kuina's hair. The sprinkles became a shower, enlarging with every drop, then it eventually poured down like a fucking waterfall. It felt great.

"Did you see how fucked up he was?" Zoro smirked at her, shouting over the sound of rain.

Kuina chuckled, "Yeah, he bluffed a lot even though he was so weak." The raindrops were soaking her skin to the bone, it dropped down on her skin like bullets. "They say the weakest are the ones who brag the most, in hopes that they can knock down their enemies with words instead of action." In a playful manner, because under the heavy sky she felt like she was floating, she grabbed Zoro's hands and spun around, and he did not resist but rather danced along with her.

"Let's dance," she shouted over the deafening noise of rain bullets thudding against the ground.

"No way," he shouted back, his eyebrows slanted but amusement playing out.

She guided his hand around her waist, pulled away from him then twirled in circles back, until their faces were at close proximity, until she didn't have to shout for him to hear her anymore. "No one can see us through the rain."

It was totally one sided at first, it was all Kuina doing the work, throwing her head back and circling around and doing jazz squares, shit like that, but Zoro joined in, acting like a fool with her. There was no specific rhythm or beat, only the music of rain crashing onto the hard surface of the earth, but the sounds of their chuckles and laughter were easy enough of a melody to follow.

Bathump…Bathump…Bathump

God, the sky had changed colors so fast; it was as though someone had ripped the sheet of blue wallpaper to reveal a gaping black hole. The rain came down in hard pallets, washed away the blood and soaked it into the ground of dirt.

Sanji held Kuina in his arms, who was motionless and so beautiful, sleeping like Snow White, tattered like a soldier after a war.

He had felt helpless watching her fall, felt sick with the bile rising up his throat, frightened that she had fallen for good, angry that he had not tried to help her and intervened during the battle before it was too late. He was so useless. Even now, with the woman bleeding into his shirt, he could not do anything.

The rain continued to beat against him and Kuina, like a sick rhythm that pounded into her body.

The blond lifted her, ran full speed to Zeff's car, because he needed to save her, just like his mother, he needed to save her for her dream, for Zoro, for their dream. He couldn't let her die, he needed to save her. He saw an outline of a dark figure standing in the midst of the pouring rain, completely adjusted to the pouring nature around him, a melancholy expression but a smile on his visage, holding out his arm so he could take his daughter into his own hands.

The cook walked a few paces behind Koshiro so the man could mourn over his beloved daughter in peace.

AN: Revised~

There were some parallel events that occurred in the fight between Kuina versus Mihawk and Zoro versus Mihawk, because as Sanji assumed, they are about the same person. Sorry for the whole focus on Kuina, partially it's because a major event is going to happen and she is one of the main characters. She's very important to the plot.

I do like to build up on the past between Zoro and Kuina (reason behind the dream) because I want you guys to know why he simply couldn't take Sanji up on the offer and just make out with him (as easy as that would make this whole damn story), it just wouldn't have built up as much as I wanted it to. Anyways, trust me on this, the next final chapters will all be focused on ZoSan, that's what we're here for, am I right ladies?

Again, thank you for reading this, I'm grateful to every one of you guys! Sorry if this chapter was depressing.