Shanks
"Mihawk, up for some drinks?" Shanks greeted Mihawk with a wide grin and a laugh. His hand wrapped around a bottle of sake loosely.
The swordsman rolled his eyes. "Why are you drunk every time I see you?" He sat next to Shanks at the bar without complaint though. Carefully, he pressed his leg up against Shanks' under the counter.
Shanks laughed, his cheeks burning from more than the sake now. "Because it's fun!" As he raised his drink, his crew burst into laughter and joined him. He took a large swallow from the bottle and gave Mihawk a sly look. "Unless you'd have more fun in private?"
Mihawk's lip twitched and he turned away. "If your crew can spare you, maybe."
Shanks stood unsteadily, and stumbled as he felt the room spin, but Mihawk's hand gripped his elbow. Shanks led them outside, but paused by Ben briefly. "I'll be back later." Probably not until morning, but he knew Ben would guess that.
Ben smiled and shook his head, waving Shanks away. Laughter broke out behind them.
Shanks led Mihawk outside, but the dark-haired man grabbed his arm and steered him towards the edge of town before Shanks could react. Stumbling occasionally, Mihawk never released his grip. Shanks shot him an occasional grin as they walked. Once in the trees, Shanks grabbed Mihawk and kissed him hard.
There was a sigh and Mihawk pushed him away gently. "Not when you stink this bad of beer." He shook his head, but he looked mildly amused.
"You love it." Shanks grinned and leaned forward, but stumbled again and fell against Mihawk's chest. His face burned, but he just chuckled as Mihawk took his arm again.
"Must you always drink half the bar?" Mihawk asked, making them sit against a broad tree.
Shanks leaned against him, smiling when Mihawk's arm encircled him. "Hey, it's not half the bar!" He laughed, laying his head on Mihawk's shoulder. "Almost that much is barely enough to get me drunk anymore, so more like the entire bar."
Mihawk chuckled softly. "So what are you doing in the South Blue?"
Shanks frowned, trying to think through the haze in his head. "I think we were looking for someone." That didn't sound right. "Oh right, we were looking for a new island to stay on for a while." His words were slurred a bit.
"Tired of traveling?" Mihawk asked, raising an eyebrow.
Shanks shook his head. "No, but wanted to enjoy some sights for a few months." He grinned and placed his hand on Mihawk's chest. "Though the sight right here is enough for now." As usual, Mihawk wore his shirt partially buttoned, exposing his bare chest. His crucifix blade hung midway down.
Mihawk tipped Shank's face up and kissed him, but all too soon let him go. "Hm, maybe somewhere a bit more comfortable would be better for that."
Shanks grinned, but then he caught sight of a small scar along Mihawk's neck. "What's that from?" As far as he knew, Mihawk never let anyone but Shanks touch him, let alone hurt him. And even then, they only met up occasionally for their liaisons. Shanks wished it was more, but he understood Mihawk was a busy man.
Mihawk frowned. "Nothing. Just a spar with some Navy." His eyes hardened and Shanks knew it was a blow to his pride.
"Navy? Did they pick a fight with you?" Shanks knew his friend had joined the Warlords, pirates in an alliance with the Navy, some years ago, but he rarely did anything with them. He struggled to think through the drunken stupor of his mind; it had been, what, six years now? No. Four. Four years, and many sporadic visits since the start of their relationship.
Mihawk shrugged. "No. They just called me in to help train some of their recruits."
"And one got lucky?" Shanks was impressed. He traced a finger over the small scar. Whoever they were, they were good. Not that big, but he could tell it was deep. That meant they got close enough to land a powerful blow. But what kind of weapon caused this?
Mihawk shivered under his touch and grabbed Shanks' hand gently. "A devil fruit user." He smirked. "If it was a swordsman, I would no longer be affiliated with the Navy as I would've killed him then."
Shanks shook his head slowly, trying to think. "But you can best most of the Navy. They couldn't be part of the Navy if they were good enough to nick you." Not a swordsman? He looked at the mark but his vision wavered enough he couldn't focus enough on it. He laid his head back against Mihawk's shoulder.
There was a tense silence. Then Mihawk sighed and laid his head on Shanks'. "Because it's you, I'll tell you a bit. They weren't Navy, but World Government."
Not Navy, but World Government? Shanks wasn't aware of every group under them, but he knew most of them were above the Navy. He rubbed his thumb over Mihawk's slowly.
"Some upstart clouded leopard." Those words caused Shanks to freeze, and Mihawk gave him a strange look. "What? Do you know them?"
Shanks nodded slowly and sat up. "Yes. Remember the day we met?"
"How could I forget?" Mihawk muttered, though he gave Shanks a small smirk.
"The leopard I fought? That was a man named Osa. I heard about him a few years ago moving to the rank of captain." All his drunkenness gone now, Shanks stared at Mihawk's hand in his. "I guess that was a ruse, or he got better than I thought." He frowned and thought about the news article; he still had the picture, stuck in a book in his cabin.
Mihawk's gaze bore into Shanks. "I remember that. The day I came back to you after you kissed me, something was bothering you. It was him, wasn't it?"
Shanks nodded, his face burning gently from the memory of that day.
"Were you friends?" There was an undercurrent in Mihawk's voice, but Shanks ignored it for the moment.
"I…don't think so. He was the one who warned me the Navy was looking for Roger's crew, but we'd only met one other time before that," Shanks said with a shrug. Weaving a little, he placed a hand on Mihawk's leg to steady himself.
Mihawk was quiet for several minutes, but before Shanks could worry, he spoke. "He must mean something to you if you haven't forgotten him after all these years."
Shanks grinned, tightening his grip. "Are you jealous?" He looked at Mihawk, who wouldn't meet his gaze.
Mihawk finally turned, chuckling, and kissed him. "Not in the least, but if there's something bothering you, I want to know." His gaze softened.
Without warning, Shanks positioned himself on Mihawk's lap, straddling him. "I think you are."
Mihawk's face went red for a moment. "And I think you're still drunk."
Shanks leaned down and kissed Mihawk's neck lightly. "Maybe. But I can tell you're jealous."
Mihawk looked away, but Shanks couldn't help but enjoy this moment of discomfort. It was so unlike the usually stoic swordsman. Shanks felt him shudder softly and grinned.
"Want me to show you that you don't need to be?" Gently, he pulled Mihawk's face to his. Mihawk didn't resist and Shanks' grin grew wider.
But he couldn't put what Mihawk had said out of his mind. Osa was World Government now? Shanks ignored the trickle of fear he felt down his spine. Not for him, but for Osa. He had never quite shaken the thought that Osa wasn't happy as Navy, though he was never sure why.
Why couldn't he forget him? And as he and Mihawk began undressing, a dark thought entered his mind. What would this mean if he and Osa met? As World Government, Osa could be asked to attack specific pirates. To attack Shanks.
Osa
With a growl, Osa swiped his claws at the teenager before him. "Back off Lucci!" His tail lashed, his ears shoved forward, and he bared his fangs.
Nine years his junior, Rob Lucci wasn't at all threatened by him. He just sneered and jabbed again.
Osa barely protected himself with his haki in time, but he still groaned as he was shoved back several feet by the finger pistol straight to his chest. Despite his armament, he could tell it would bruise.
Lucci cracked what could barely be described as a smirk and shot forward, using shave to increase his speed.
Osa tensed as a deep voice sounded from the entrance of the large training room. "Lucci, knock it off." Osa knocked the teen away as a tall man in dark clothes came in. Osa didn't take his eyes off Lucci, but he knew that everyone else had stopped to watch the newcomer approach. Osa glanced to the side as the superior stood between them. "Osa, I have orders for you."
Osa stood straight as the man handed him a piece of paper. He ignored Lucci's glare burning into his head and unfolded the small piece of paper. Neat, tiny handwriting was scrawled across it.
"You're to report immediately to Vice Admiral Garp's crew," the man told him.
Lucci growled. "Why does he get a mission?" His eyes hadn't left Osa, blazing darkly.
"Because I'm not some brat who can't control his temper." Osa shot at him, lashing his tail once.
Lucci yelled out, but Osa was expecting this. Without a sound, he swung out and his fist connected with Lucci's stomach in a powerful backhand. Osa didn't even bother shifting. His lip curled in a silent snarl. Lucci still couldn't take an insult with grace…
Lucci fell with a quiet groan as Osa's arm lost its black coating. The room stayed silent as he walked out, but he knew Lucci would give him hell for that the moment he could. No matter, the brat still wasn't to his level.
He quickly made his way to the protected dock and saw the familiar dog figurehead, then Garp's ship came fully into view. Marines were scrambling all over, while a few on the dock carried crates. The bright afternoon sky was clear of clouds, but a brisk wind made the flag atop the mast snap loudly.
Garp was waiting for him. "Took you long enough." The older man had aged since Osa last saw him, just before he joined the Navy, but he still radiated a terrifying amount of strength. His sharp gaze flicked over Osa as he approached.
Osa shrugged. "I was training. They had to wait for us to stop." He found it hard to talk more formally to Garp, but not much. But he had to remind himself that Garp, while technically his superior, wasn't directly over him. Not anymore.
Garp turned and led him onto the ship. "We have reason to believe powerful pirates are in the South Blue and you're being attached to a Navy base on Fesru Island." His hands were clasped behind his back as they walked.
Osa nodded. Fesru Island wasn't particularly large, but they were known for their wealth. Rarely, a Celestial Dragon would vacation there. The streets were said to be paved with silver gilded bricks, and a large Navy base watched over the town. But outside of the base and town's limit, it was a wild forest that was a good hunting ground. The Celestial Dragons loved to catch local specimens for their personal zoos.
Osa resisted making a face at that.
"You'll be there for a year, maybe two." Garp explained without looking back. "You will be considered part of their crew, so you may occasionally go out to sea."
Around them, marines were rushing about in their duties. They all avoided Osa, dodging around him and never quite looking in his direction, but he was used to this by now. Their fear stung his nose, even as a human.
"Do they understand I'm involved?" Osa knew Garp would hear the real question.
Garp led him into the captain's cabin, Garp's personal room, and motioned for him to sit. "No. The current understanding is that they will be adding a captain to the Navy personnel stationed there, likely as an additional security measure in case any Celestial Dragons wish to visit. The captain there knows that you are there separately from the others, but not that you are above him."
Osa leaned back in the chair and looked at his hands. A habit. He never liked meeting the gaze of his superiors when getting a mission briefing. Many of them got unnerved and their fear usually made his hackles rise, sometimes visibly.
"I'm not surprised they picked you." Garp's words made him look up. Garp rarely looked anything but annoyed or angry, but Osa was surprised at the small amount of pride on the Vice Admiral's face. "When Roger brought you to me all those years ago, I questioned why he would bring a kid to the Navy."
Osa waited as Garp continued.
"Oh yes, you had devil fruit powers, but that means nothing. I think Roger recognized some kind of talent in you." Garp met Osa's gaze evenly, but there was no superiority in it like when any other of Osa's superiors met his eyes.
"But he could've kept me as a pirate then." Osa had questioned that a few times himself, but never had any answers.
Garp nodded. "Aye, he could've, but maybe he thought you'd be better off with the Navy."
Osa said nothing, only blinked.
Standing up, Garp walked to the window backing the ship. "Questions about your mission?"
"Do I have a target?" Osa felt strange the moment he asked. His mind went to the folded poster tucked in his boot currently, but he dismissed the thought immediately. At twenty-three, Shanks had a bounty of 1,040,000,000. Osa doubted they would send a recruit from Cipher Pol, even one who was about to officially complete his training, to tangle with someone like that.
He still wondered at what Shanks had done to earn that, but never asked anyone. He tried to avoid thinking about when he could… He gave a mental snort. As if that were possible.
"You have no specific target." Garp's answer came as a slight surprise. "Just keep an eye out for the town and any pirates that stop there. If you have a chance to take any bounties, take them without revealing yourself as CP8." Garp didn't turn around as he spoke, but Osa had no issue hearing him.
But he did understand he had been officially accepted into CP8. He was…he was what? Glad? He expected to feel happy, or accomplished, but he felt nothing at this revelation. He pushed the thought away and tried to pay attention.
"When the two years are up, what will I be doing?" Osa couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved that he didn't a specific target. While it still meant attacking Shanks if he showed up, Osa now had a perfect excuse to avoid him: Shanks' bounty was too high, and Osa didn't think he could take down someone worth that much with serious injury or worse.
Garp turned around. "You'll return here, to my knowledge. If you are given another task, I do not know of it." There was a slight pause, then Garp sat down. "Just to warn you, there are some high bounties in the area as of now, but not only can that change, I ask that you not put yourself in unnecessary danger."
"Anyone in particular?" Osa asked. His heartbeat sped up, but he forced his breathing to stay even.
Garp raised an eyebrow. "Red-Haired Shanks was seen entering the South Blue a few months ago, but not many Navy, and even fewer outside of them, could tangle with him. Aside from him, there's no one else I don't believe you wouldn't be able to handle."
Good, so he could avoid Shanks. He felt a twinge at that, but ignored it.
"If there's nothing else, you are dismissed. You have a private cabin below due to your rank, but you'll be expected to help the crew starting tomorrow. Join the morning watch." Garp said, waving his hand.
Osa nodded and left quickly. It wasn't difficult to find his cabin, and once inside, he immediately undressed and pulled out the Wanted poster he had acquired. Pulling his hair from the short ponytail he now sported, he looked at the poster.
Grinning, Shanks' face stared out at him. Osa stared at it for a while, then carefully folded it up and stuck it back inside his boot.
"You won't find him, Osa, so forget it." The words felt hollow. He couldn't explain this…emptiness. He felt it every time he thought about the red-haired man lately. They hadn't seen each other in years, but no matter what Osa did, Shanks preyed on his mind. "He's probably forgotten about you. And even if you did see him, what would you do? You can't attack him."
It wasn't even a matter of strength. Osa wasn't sure why, but he couldn't bring himself to even think about attacking Shanks. He knew he wouldn't be able to, even if the entire World Government forced him. Laying back, Osa closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind.
But the fear stayed no matter how hard he tried to erase it.