Hello everybody,
so here comes (finally) the next extra chapter. It really takes me longer to translate these scenes (given that some of them are quite long I guess I should have expected it...) but I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you will enjoy it as well.
Best wishes!
Unexpected visitors
After Part 2, Chapter 53
Kuraigana – during the break from ultimate training after Zoro collapsed
A few days later
-Zoro–
Yawning, he slouched through the corridors of the castle. The previous evening, he had argued forever with Mihawk – discussed as the Shichibukai would call it, although it had clearly been an argument – and agreed in the end that they would finally resume training the next day.
It had taken long enough, but Zoro's wounds had almost completely healed and as always, he slowly became restless when he was not allowed to train for so long. He hadn't even been allowed to run his morning laps, not even as Loreen, rarely had Mihawk been so strict with him and rarely had Zoro found him so hard to crack.
In the end, Zoro had caved in, had spent the days sleeping and reading a lot – he hadn't even been allowed to practice Kenbunshoku Haki, Mihawk had insisted that he should fully recover before they would continue training – and could hardly wait to finally climb that mountain again.
It was really tough to wait; he had never experienced such training. Mihawk certainly pushed him to his limits and far beyond, and yes, there were moments when he thought he was going to die, but damn it, what fun it was.
Maybe that's why he was even more restless than usual, because he didn't just want to train, but because he wanted to train like that, and tomorrow he would. Therefore, he should prepare himself well today. Maybe he was lucky and Perona had kept him some leftovers from breakfast.
Tired, he pushed open the door to the fireplace room.
"Morning," he yawned again and froze.
His counterpart also froze and then pointed at him with his arm outstretched.
"Aaah!... Aaaah!" he said, still pointing at Zoro with extensive movements as he stared at Mihawk, who was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper unimpressed.
"Words, Redhair, try it for once."
"Roronoa Zoro!"
"Getting there."
"This is Roronoa Zoro!" Now Shanks stared at him, and Zoro was no less astonished. After all, nobody else but Redhaired Shanks, the man who had saved his captain's life, stood right in front of him.
"That is correct," the Shichibukai replied, still indifferent.
Zoro felt the tension building up within his body, but before he could move, before he could say what he had to say, Shanks had already rushed towards him and threw his arm around Zoro's shoulders.
"What a coincidence!" he laughed out loud and dragged Zoro into the room. "I really wanted to meet you at some point, was curious what kind of person you would be. You were the first to join Luffy's crew, weren't you? And you also have..."
Suddenly, the pirate paused in his babbling and looked at Zoro sternly from the side.
"I thought you were dead," he murmured in a tone that made Zoro shudder. How could he go from laughing, babbling to one of the Four Emperors so quickly? "You fell with the G-6, didn't you?"
Then he whirled around, let go of Zoro and stalked towards the Shichibukai.
"Was this your work? Were you responsible for the...?"
"Spare me with false assumptions," Mihawk interrupted him coolly, without even looking up. "I had nothing to do with the fall of the G-6. Why should I waste my time with such trifles?"
"But how...?" Now Shanks looked at him again with wide eyes, while Zoro had no idea what was going on. He had prepared himself for a quiet day and suddenly Redhaired Shanks stood in front of him.
"He is one of those reborns."
Zoro turned around, behind him, next to the door, stood a tall man smoking a cigarillo. Then he winked briefly at Zoro. "Got good eyes, you see?" he explained with a grin.
"Oh, really?" Now Shanks stood next to Zoro again and examined him insistently, obviously knowing exactly what the other was talking about. "Before or since Senichi?"
"From his shadow, I would guess since," it came again from Ben Beckman, vice-captain of the Redhaired Pirates.
Zoro didn't like someone else speaking for him and casually exposing his secret. At the same time, he was very aware of how relaxed – even though obviously unnerved – Mihawk was for the presence of strangers. Of course, Zoro knew the stories surrounding the Redhaired Shanks, his crew, and his fights against Mihawk. The Shichibukai himself had also dropped one or the other word about the other. He didn't seem to approve of the Emperor's presence, but he didn't seem to care that Beckman had just revealed Zoro's secret.
"Oh, is that so?" Shanks still looked at him so intensely. Zoro met this gaze, wondering what this man was thinking.
"Yes, I'm Lady Loreen," he grumbled, unwilling that the man close to the wall would speak for him again.
"Oh!" Now Shanks took another step towards him so that no hand could fit between them and looked down at him with his head slightly tilted.
"Shanks, don't pester him like that, you'll end up scaring him," Beckman warned behind Zoro.
"Oh, I would not worry about that," the Shichibukai remarked from his cheap seat. "Roronoa is not someone who is intimidated by other people."
"Well, someone seems to have faith in you," Shanks grinned and looked down at Zoro. "Is Hawk Eyes right? Does today's youth no longer have any respect?"
"I do respect you," Zoro replied directly, keeping an eye on the other. "But there is no reason for me to be intimidated or even afraid of you. After all, you're only human."
For a moment, no one said anything, but Zoro hadn't lied; he meant every word as he had said it. Of course, he was aware of who the other was and that he probably could not even begin to grasp his power. Shanks had to be as strong as Mihawk if they had fought so many times without there being a clear winner. But that also meant that if Zoro wanted to defeat Mihawk one day, he couldn't shy away from opponents like the Redhaired Shanks.
Suddenly, Shanks laughed out loud and patted his shoulder so hard Zoro's knees gave way.
"Oh, I like you!" he announced with a loud laugh. "Knew that the newspaper was faked, would not suit the snotty brat to leave a crewmember in the lurch. Luffy really got someone good! Right, Ben?"
In the next moment, a shockwave slid through Zoro's body and gravity seemed to increase tenfold. In the same breath, that moment was over.
"At least he doesn't seem to be a weakling," Beckman grumbled, watching him, but there was no sign of his grin, he seemed to be seriously judging Zoro right now, "and he must have nerves of steel if he voluntarily lives with Dracule."
"Could you please stop using my home as your playground," said the same with a soft groan, "and I would prefer you to stop harassing my student."
"Oh!" came it unanimously from captain and vice, who exchanged a meaningful glance.
"So that's why the rumors about Lady Loreen," Shanks said. "I did wonder if there would actually be someone who could endure your bad mood day in and day out."
Mihawk wanted to reply, but Beckman was faster.
"And that's why you left so quickly when the war was over," he remarked, earning an astonished sound from his captain. "So I wasn't mistaken that your fighting style seemed oddly restless. You wanted to get home quickly."
"In fact, yes," Mihawk growled, slamming his newspaper shut, a soft pink glow on the bridge of his nose, "this war was so tiring that I could not wait to get out of there and spend my time doing something meaningful."
"Wait," Shanks murmured, putting a finger to his temple while he was brooding about something, somehow a familiar image, even if Zoro didn't really know why, "I'm missing something here. Why are you even here?" he then mumbled and pointed at Zoro, but before he could even answer, Shanks continued: "And then as a student? As if you would ever be willing to stoop low enough from your high horse to actually teach someone. Something doesn't fit here at all, you would never..."
"He was the boy Dracule spared in the East Blue," Beckman added, putting out his cigarillo, only to light a new one right away. "You brought us Luffy's wanted poster because of him, didn't you? Not because you wanted information about Luffy, but about him."
Zoro was well aware that he was the boy, and it wasn't the first conversation of this kind he listened to, and yet it was different, the energy in the room was very different. There was a tension, like in the middle of a fight, he could feel how this monster inside of him became restless, which was perhaps also due to the past days without training.
"That, too, is correct," Mihawk confirmed without hesitation.
"You train him so he can defeat you one day," Beckman noted.
"Indeed."
Grinning, Beckman snorted.
"You've always been a cruel man, Dracule, but that's dark even for you."
"If you say so." Mihawk didn't seem impressed in the least as he laid the newspaper on the table and then roughly pushed Shanks aside to turn to Zoro.
"I am sorry, Roronoa, I had not expected those... visitors, nor that they would behave like spoiled brats in a zoo. If you want to have your peace of mind, I would advise you to have breakfast in the kitchen."
"What?" Instantly, Shank's bearded chin slid onto Mihawk's shoulder. "You want to keep him from us? That's pretty mean of you."
"Stop this!" hissed the Shichibukai, pushing the other away. "I would prefer you to leave immediately. Why are you here at all? I have nothing to talk to you."
"Oh, are you so sure?" Shanks grinned, but then his gaze slid from Mihawk to Zoro. "But you're right. What I want to discuss with you can wait."
Then he pushed surprisingly nimbly past Mihawk and put his hand on Zoro's shoulder.
"Zoro, fight with me!"
"What?"
"Okay!"
"Roronoa!" Then Mihawk grabbed Shank's shoulder and pulled him around. "No, Redhair, he will not fight you!"
A painful wave of melancholy gripped Zoro as he saw Shanks grinning mischievously at the other. When he grinned like that, he somehow reminded Zoro of his captain, he seemed so familiar.
"But he has already agreed, and the honor of a swordfighter says..."
"I do not care, but you will not..."
"I want to fight him," Zoro intervened and secured the attention of everyone in the room, but he only looked at Mihawk.
For a moment the Shichibukai's eyes widened, then he squinted them and stepped towards Zoro when he understood what Zoro meant. He didn't know if Shanks and Beckman knew about Mihawk's lack of control — probably — but he didn't need to say it out loud for his teacher to understand.
"I will not allow it," he emphasized coldly.
"Well, not like I asked for your permission," Zoro replied, unimpressed.
In the background, Shanks gasped silently and looked at Zoro over Mihawk's shoulder with raised eyebrows. But Zoro withstood the harsh gaze of his teacher.
"You're not going to fight me until I'm good enough. Shouldn't I take the opportunity to fight someone who can keep up with you and voluntarily challenges me? Wouldn't it be pretty stupid to miss such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"
For a long moment, the Shichibukai just looked at him with a chilling expression.
"You are such a stubborn brat, I should break both your arms," he squeezed out between clenched teeth.
"Not like that would stop me," Zoro objected, crossing his arms, staring back, no one said anything for seconds.
Mihawk groaned loudly, then walked past Zoro towards the door. "For all I care, do what you must. But you will not fight with your swords, and that is non-negotiable."
"What? Why?" Furious, Zoro whirled around. If he wanted even the slightest chance of keeping up with Shanks for more than two seconds, he would definitely need his swords.
"If you cannot even understand that I, as your teacher, should forbid you to fight him," growled the other.
"No, if I don't understand something, then you, as my teacher, should explain it to me," Zoro contradicted frustrated and followed the other, but then stopped when Mihawk loudly slammed the door shut behind him. "Bastard."
"Well, look at that," Shanks murmured quietly behind Zoro, but he had no idea what the other meant, and he didn't care. Because now Beckman had started moving and came towards him.
"I guess it's because of your Haki," he remarked softly and stopped in front of Zoro, giving him half a smile before crossing his arms. "Am I right in assuming that you only learned to use it during your time under Dracule's wing?"
Zoro nodded.
"Yes, then I can only agree with him. You're obviously still a newbie to hardening, but in a fight against Shanks, you won't have the time to focus on an even armor. That is, you wouldn't be able to reach your full potential, and if you weakened for just a moment, your swords would pay for it, they would break, even if Shanks wouldn't use Haki. After all, his sword is strong enough to withstand the sharpest sword in the world." Beckman blew blue smoke into the room. "To eliminate this danger and allow you to focus on combat, you need a sword that can bear your current weaknesses. A Supreme Blade should be able to withstand Shank's power and Gryphon's hardness, even if you can't protect it. That's why he'll probably get you one, after all, this sword fanatic owns several."
"I see," Zoro murmured, then looked at the older man. "You're good at explaining. Mihawk always complicates everything unnecessarily."
Now Beckman laughed for the first time.
"You're pretty direct," he said with a grin, "no wonder Dracule is so irritated. But I can explain that to you, too. He prefers to surround himself with people who can keep up with his intellect and is not willing to adapt his choice of words to the audience."
"In other words," Shanks interjected, throwing his arm over Zoro's shoulder, "he's an arrogant snob, disguised as a pirate, who isn't able to talk normally because he doesn't want to be lumped together with simple minds like us."
Now his face was so close to Zoro that the tips of their noses almost touched, while Shanks leaned against him from above.
"But there's something about you," he said with that unnaturally wide grin that reminded Zoro too much of Luffy, "you seem to be able to stand up to him pretty well."
"I'm honest," Zoro replied simply, "I don't think much of pretending, and if he can't handle it, that's his problem."
Then he realized again who was hanging on his shoulder.
"But what I wanted to say..."
"Nah, don't bother," Shanks continued to grin at him. "But we can go to your usual sparring ground; I really want to see you in action."
"Where is the rest of your crew?" murmured Zoro, looking back and forth between Shanks and Beckman.
"They stayed on board," Beckman noted.
"Hawk Eyes doesn't like it when we just come to visit," Shanks said. "Since some small celebration a few years ago, he has forbidden me to take anyone off board. I ignored it once and he almost sank our ship, I won't do it again, his bouts of rage are not funny. Nobody is allowed ashore anymore; they just have to wait."
"Nobody?" repeated Zoro, eyeing Beckman, who didn't really seem like nobody.
"Well, he can stand me," grinned the addressee. "We even play chess from time to time. However, we never made it beyond the first game."
"Why?" asked Zoro, not really interested, but maybe Beckman would tell him a trick that might help him understand Mihawk's strategic thinking.
"None of us has been willing to make the first move."
"Boring!" Shanks drowned the dangerous smile of his vice, as he pushed Zoro towards the door. "Come on, show us the way, then we can warm up a bit until Hawk Eyes stops sulking."
"Who is sulking?" The door was thrown open again and Mihawk stormed in. "Besides, I would not trust Roronoa to find his way to the ruins. He regularly gets lost on the way to the bathroom."
"Oh, just shut..."
"But what about his weapon?", Shanks simply ignored Zoro's objection as they left the fireplace room and regarded Mihawk. "You'll have to give him some sword, Hawk Eyes. Letting a swordfighter fight without a sword is really nasty even by your standards."
Unimpressed, Mihawk looked down at Shanks, even though he seemed a touch taller.
"Do you have no eyes in your head?" he said and pulled open the big gate, pointing with one hand to Yoru, which he had strapped to his back as usual.
"Yoru?" repeated Shanks and Beckman in unison with astonishment, exchanging a puzzled look that reminded Zoro of Jiroushin's reaction.
"You're letting someone else fight with your sword?" asked Beckman puzzledly.
"You let someone else carry your sword?" asked Shanks loudly. "I wasn't even allowed to touch it," he complained like a spoiled kid.
"Because you are sloppy," Mihawk judged coolly, "sloppy with your own things, with others' things, even with your own body. I would not even trust you with a wine glass, let alone one of my swords."
Shanks stuck out his tongue yet said nothing more, but now his gaze was even more curious on Zoro than before.
When they reached the ruins, Mihawk put some distance between them and the two Red Hair pirates.
"All right, Roronoa, listen to me," he said insistently. "The reason you will fight with Yoru is..."
"I know," Zoro interrupted. "Beckman explained it to me."
"Oh, did he now?" answered the Shichibukai slightly sourly. "Well, then we can get down to business. I do not want you to worry about Yoru's armor, but you will have to protect yourself when in doubt, understood?"
Zoro nodded.
"I think it is wise for you not use your special skills today, concentrate on fighting, that will challenge you enough." Surprisingly, it was the same as always. At first, Mihawk had resisted, but now that he had accepted Zoro's decision, he acted almost as if it had been his plan all along. "I want you to think of Redhair as a combination of my and Jiroushin's assets."
"Not easy," Zoro murmured, not even joking, "after all, I still don't have a clear idea of how strong you really are or how you really fight."
Then he looked over at Shanks, who was doing some ridiculous stretching exercises, with Beckman watching him with a half-regretful, half-amused look that Zoro could understand only too well.
"That means he's as strong as you but can adapt perfectly to his opponent like Jiroushin?" he asked. "Like Jiroushin, he can adapt to my skills within seconds and completely change his fighting technique at any time."
"Correct," Mihawk agreed, "he may not be a real swordfighter, but for your level it should be enough."
Zoro looked up at him doubtfully, not sure if Mihawk was trying to offend one of them or even both at the same time, or if Zoro just didn't understand him.
"However, he resembles me in one more thing. Unlike Jiroushin, Shanks has no problem punishing you harshly for your mistakes. Soldiers train a lot in practice fights, pirates do not have that luxury, so every fight is a real one for them."
Zoro just nodded. He could work with a statement, after all, this also applied to him.
"Well, he also has the play instinct of a puppy, so you do not have to worry about him wanting to kill you. It is more about having fun for him and you will just do for him."
"Why didn't you want me to fight him?" asked Zoro, his gaze fixed on Shanks again.
Mihawk sighed, "Well, that is because..."
"So, can we finally get started?" Out of nowhere, Shanks suddenly stood next to Mihawk again, resting his chin on Mihawk's shoulder, even though Zoro hadn't let him out of his sight for even a second.
"Stop doing that," Mihawk hissed, pushing the other off his shoulder. "Well, let us put this fiasco behind us. Roronoa, remember what I told you and do not let yourself get distracted."
Again, Zoro just nodded before his teacher took Yoru off his back and offered it to him in an elegant motion.
Now even the Redhaired Shanks was silent as Zoro took a deep breath and finally received the mightiest sword in the world.
For a moment, Zoro closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel Yoru in its full power, asking the old sword for patience and forgiveness and to assist him in this fight, even if he was not yet worthy of it. As always, Yoru's response was gentle and engaging, but Zoro imagined his fingertips tingling, perhaps Yoru was looking forward to this battle against a blade it had fought with so many times before, many, many years ago.
"In a real fight, I wouldn't give you that long to get to know your weapon, you know that?" came it surprisingly cool from Shanks somewhere in front of Zoro.
"Then attack me," Zoro replied calmly, noticing his heart slowly finding Yoru's rhythm.
The next moment, he jumped to the side and pulled Yoru up, just in time to block a hard blow. Zoro ducked to the side and escaped a kick by a hair's breadth before steel hit steel again.
Shanks was fast, not like that was surprising. Attacking was out of the question, Zoro hardly managed to dodge in time and had to fend off sword blows or kicks with Yoru far too often. Each time Zoro's bones shook, and he knew he had to avoid them, but he didn't know how. Shanks was everywhere.
At the same time, Zoro was anything but holding back. He might not be able to compete with the Emperor, but he wouldn't be Roronoa Zoro if he didn't at least try, and Yoru's calmness gave him strength and confidence. Zoro had fun!
"For a novice, you're not bad at leading Yoru," Shanks remarked, but the next moment his grin disappeared, and his blade hit the handle, "but you're not Hawk Eyes!"
An unexpected pain slipped through Zoro's finger as his opponent tried to knock the sword out of his hands. Bones cracked, but he wouldn't let go, wouldn't let go under any circumstances.
Shanks applied even more pressure, leaning forward, his upper body over the crossed blades, while Zoro could do nothing to escape this force. He couldn't dodge without letting go of Yoru, so he had to endure it.
"Tell me," Shanks murmured, his face way too close to Zoro's, far too serious, nothing left of the previous mischievousness, "why do you think I wanted to fight you?"
Zoro grunted under the pressure but couldn't bring his teeth far enough apart to answer.
"Because I want to do Hawk Eyes a favor? So that he can see how far you really have come, even though he can't fight you himself? Or because I want to see how strong Luffy's first crewmember really is? Both wrong." Suddenly, it was no longer mere physical strength, Haki seemed to seep out of his pores, so heavy made it the air, while Shank's face seemed to come closer and closer to him, so powerful was his aura. Zoro felt like breathing his energy in every breath, it was impressive and fascinating, incredibly strong. "I want to understand. How can it be that Hawk Eyes no longer fights me, even though he yearns every second of his life for a fight, but he willingly trains you, even though you are far from playing at our level?"
Shanks leaned forward even more. Somewhere in the background, Zoro could hear his teacher and Beckman say something, but all his concentration was on his opponent.
"I think I have a right to know whether you are a worthy successor, whether you can become good enough to satisfy Hawk Eye's greed."
"Do what you want," Zoro finally said between clenched teeth, absolutely unable to dodge this overwhelming force. "I want to fight you because you fought him. I don't care about your motives."
But he could attack!
Shanks jumped back, faint surprise in his gaze, then he grinned dangerously.
"Not bad, not bad at all."
Zoro rubbed the blood from his forehead, while his opponent didn't even have a scratch. Then he went back into fighting position and lifted Yoru. Not a second too soon. Dodging a kick, he had to block the blade. Two kicks in a row, one hit him on the shoulder. But he would not let go, would never let go of Yoru, because then he had already lost.
The earth under their feet trembled with every collision, did not come to rest at all. He jumped to the side, ducked, threw up his sword, but Zoro was no longer satisfied with defense, yet his attacks would not breach.
Shanks dodged him with an ease that made Zoro jealous; he moved much more playfully than Jiroushin or himself. Reminded him somewhat of the Cook or of Luffy. That was obviously the difference between a swordfighter and someone fighting with a sword. Was that what Mihawk meant?
His movements were unusual for a swordfighter, and although his cover had obvious gaps and weaknesses, Zoro could not take advantage of them as if Shanks were deliberately presenting them. Maybe they weren't weaknesses, maybe in a swordfighter, but maybe not in someone who only fought with a sword.
"Urgh!"
"No daydreaming, please," Shanks laughed as he dug his elbow into Zoro's shoulder. He had been too slow! Once again, he had been too slow!
He hit the ground hard, caught himself less than more, came back on his feet panting. Then he jumped back again, narrowly escaping the enemy's blade, the next moment Zoro attacked. Shanks did not follow any pattern in his fighting style and his weaknesses were no weaknesses. Nothing Zoro had learned so far was any longer valid in this fight. All his experiences were worth nothing at that moment. He couldn't foresee how Shanks would fight, unquestionably inferior to his Kenbunshoku Haki, but even aside from that he couldn't rely on his experience. This opponent was different.
Shanks fended off his attack with ease.
"Have we warmed up by now?" he asked with a playful grin. "Then we can start, right?"
"What?"
The next moment, Zoro hit the ground again, rolled to the side, pushed himself off with one hand before it got kicked away. At the same time, he raised his sword just in time to stop Shanks from splitting his face in half.
He was too slow! He did not manage to get Yoru into position in time, had to resort far too often to clumsy self-defense movements. Each time his sword cried out under Zoro's mistakes, but accepted it, took it for him.
Breathing heavily, he put a few feet distance between himself and Shanks.
What was he doing? Did he want to be such a swordfighter? Who made his weapon suffer just because he was too bad? If it weren't for Yoru, the sword in his hand would have been broken long ago.
Every scratch on the blade of your sword is a sign of shame, a sign that your sword had to pay for you not being good enough.
Mihawk was right, every cry Yoru made was a testament to Zoro's incompetence. The best swordfighter in the world had entrusted Zoro with his sword, the best sword in the world, for this fight, and what did Zoro do? He embarrassed them both with his inability.
But no matter what he did, he couldn't even dream of keeping up with Shanks. Yoru in his hand urged him to more speed, harder attacks, ignored Zoro's lack of skill, demanded that he be good enough for Yoru to fight, demanded that Zoro be good enough to at least not hinder his weapon in battle, if he could not fight as well as the actual leader of this weapon.
Shanks attacked, Zoro dodged, like this almost every exchange of blows between them took place. But he could only block so many attacks before his bones would break. He could only attack and neglect his cover so many times before his Busoshoku Haki would break. Dodging was currently the most practical alternative to hold out as long as possible.
But it was no alternative to winning a fight, and Yoru wanted to win, Zoro wanted to win. But he didn't know how, didn't know how to keep up with such an overpowering opponent who playfully chased him through the ruins, but his grin was gone. It was only a matter of time before Shanks would get bored if Zoro wouldn't come up with something quickly.
The blades collided hard; air cut open his upper arms. He had tried to dodge, but hadn't been fast enough, and then given in to Yoru's voice and stopped the attack with one of his own. This time, Yoru hadn't screamed.
Slowly Zoro understood. He would not be able to adapt to Shanks, not like he had done with his previous opponents, not like he had done with Jiroushin, not because Shanks fought so unusually for a swordfighter, but because Zoro could not yet begin to grasp his skills. And he wouldn't last long enough to change that. He would probably have to cross blades with his opponent for weeks and realistically speaking, Zoro could perhaps keep up with this insane pace for a few more hours, should the other not turn up or lose interest at some point.
But even if Zoro couldn't keep up with Shanks, his weapon was very capable of doing so. Yoru was able to deal with Gryphon's attacks, stop them, oppose them. Zoro was the weak point; he could not lead Yoru well enough to hold its own against Shanks and his weapon Gryphon. They were the worse team, although Zoro's weapon might even be superior just because his weakness was so cruelly obvious.
But the moment he understood that they were inferior due to the imbalance of power between him and his weapon, he also knew how simple the solution was. If he wanted them to win, he had to wield his sword so that it could use all its strength. Of course, Zoro knew he had to lead a Zanbato like Yoru differently than his katana, but that wasn't the point here.
The most important weapon is not the one you wield, but yourself.
Again, Zoro put distance between himself and his enemy, he needed some more time, but Shanks did not give it to him. Didn't allow him to calm his breath, catch Yoru's rhythm.
Mihawk may have meant it in a different context at the time, but it was the truth, nonetheless. Not only Yoru was a weapon and if Zoro as a swordfighter was not yet good enough to lead Yoru as he had to, then he had to become a weapon himself, become a tool. Only in this way could he give Yoru the freedom it needed to stop Gryphon, and only if Yoru could stop Gryphon could Zoro stand any chance against Shanks.
Give me two seconds, he asked his weapon and Yoru listened.
"Ui!" Shanks jumped back when Yoru's shock wave almost caught him.
The unexpectedly strong attack with which Yoru had blocked Shanks hardly slowed down the Emperor's speed, but still enough.
Exhaling deeply, Zoro went back into the starting position and closed his eye. His mistake had been to adapt to an unknown quantity like Shanks, even though Yoru's power was so much more familiar to him, after all, they had been training together for weeks.
Zoro allowed the walls of his mind to fall, allowed Yoru's voice to flood his body, to make him the weapon Yoru needed to fight freely.
"Don't fall asleep, Zo...!"
Their blades collided hard; Zoro's hands had moved before he had even opened his eye. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shank's surprised expression, but Zoro was already next to him, above him, behind him. Yoru kept clashing on Gryphon, but finally Zoro took the initiative.
It was as if time was passing slower than before. While Shanks had just moved inhumanly fast, Zoro could now see his movements almost as clearly as if he were using Kenbunshoku Haki. No, even better, Shanks had become slow, or Zoro simply insanely fast. He didn't know and he couldn't think about it, he just had to listen to Yoru, let himself be guided by this powerful voice. But suddenly he could almost keep up with Shanks.
The Emperor said something with a loud laugh, but it did not reach Zoro's ears, while he only heard Yoru's voice, but the next attack of his opponent caused the earth to burst beneath them. At the same time, it was almost easy for Zoro to stop him. He felt the pain in his muscles, in his joints, but that was far away, barely reached his senses.
All he perceived was Yoru. All he heard was Yoru's voice. Its humming one with Zoro's heartbeat, a connection he had never felt before with a weapon. Suddenly, the world before Zoro seemed to blossom in new colors. Zoro felt his Haki open in a form he hadn't known before. Suddenly, it was easy to use his Kenbunshoku Haki while the energy streams around him became visible without it surprising him. Zoro hardly knew what he was doing, but he understood. Yoru spoke to him so clearly and calmly, reaching into the deepest corners of his mind and no matter what Shanks did, Zoro knew what he had to do.
Finally, the hunt became a fight, the flight became an attack. Now his opponent finally grinned again, obviously had fun, as did Zoro. He was aware that he still couldn't keep up with Shanks, but the gap was narrowing. If Zoro could hold out a little longer, if he could give Yoru just a little more.
The colors around him became more and more intense and he seemed to be able to move faster and faster in time, as if the laws of nature no longer applied to him and his body. His vision could hardly keep up with the speed, but that wasn't an issue, Zoro's body moved without him having to see more than this vortex of colors. All he had to do was listen to Yoru and become the leader it needed to fight freely.
"Stop!"
Yoru fell silent and suddenly the world was empty, as if there was nothing left, no air, no gravity, no light, nothing.
"Let go of him."
Zoro stood lost in nothingness, absolutely disoriented, could not feel his own body, could not feel Yoru. There was no balance, and his knees gave way, but Zoro barely felt his body, as if his senses were suddenly dulled after this intensity.
Somewhere in the distance he could hear voices, strange voices, but not the one voice that had just filled and amplified his senses.
"Roronoa, let go," came a gentle command that Zoro didn't understand, "let go of Yoru."
He didn't understand what that meant.
But then there was a feeling, a sense. Zoro felt something stroking the back of his hand, something warm, body heat.
"The fight is over. You did well."
Relief slipped through his body; he had been good enough. He had done it, finally.
"Exactly, you can let go of Yoru now and rest a bit."
Rest... Yes, Zoro should rest a bit. Slowly this world became dark, and then he saw a shadow above him, felt the broken ground beneath him, the pain in his body.
"Well done, Roronoa. You should sleep for now, so let go of Yoru."
-Mihawk-
With one last shiver, Roronoa's eyelid finally fell shut and finally – finally! – his fingers also loosened barely noticeably around Yoru's grip, allowing Mihawk to unwind the weapon from his student without resorting to force.
"Oh, burned his candle on both ends, huh? Kind of started to be fun. I really didn't think he'd be this..."
"Be silent!" He could not stop his voice from shaking, almost breaking, and when he stood up with Roronoa in his arms and looked at his former rival, his smile faded, not that Mihawk could care any less.
"Hawk Eyes, what is...?"
"That is why I hate working with amateurs." His voice was only a whisper, so much did anger take his breath away. Then he threw his sword over his back and made his way home, ignoring the unwanted visitor.
"Mihawk!"
He stopped, rarely did Shanks call him by name and rarely did he sound so serious.
"What happened? I don't understand your anger. He did splendidly, much better than I expected. He needed some time, but then he adapted perfectly to my fighting style. He even seems to understand how to control a fight without leading. So I..."
"You fool." Slowly, Mihawk turned to the other. "Did you misjudge his abilities that much? He has not adapted to you; he is not even able to do that yet."
"But..."
"He adapted to Yoru."
"What?" The other's eyes widened. "He submitted to his weapon?"
"That is why I say you are an amateur; a true swordfighter would have recognized it." Shaking his head, Mihawk then went his way, ignoring the steps that followed him.
Actually, it was his fault. He had thought that Shanks could impossibly not have noticed, so he had assumed that the other would end the fight before Roronoa would exceed his physical limits. But Shanks had not, and even Mihawk had hesitated a moment too long, succumbed to his weakness for a second when he had seen the potential that still slumbered in Roronoa.
This fight had made it obvious. Roronoa was a true master of the sword, his technique of the highest quality, but he could not yet savor it, because his body could not yet keep up with his true skills. Today's fight had shown how good Roronoa could be if his physique would no longer hold him back.
For a second, Mihawk closed his eyes and slid his tongue along his tooth crowns, feeling the sweet pain as the edges cut into the flesh. Had Shanks wanted to do him a favor? Had he wanted to give him what Mihawk himself could not do without risking Roronoa's life? If so, he had succeeded despite the disastrous ending. Mihawk's greed was harder to control than it had been for a long time.
But it had revealed something much worse. Shanks was no longer enough, as Mihawk had always feared. Now that he had seen Roronoa's true potential, someone who fought with the sword but was not a swordfighter could no longer satisfy him, even if it was the Redhaired Shanks.
Breathing heavily, he laid Roronoa down on the sofa and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"So that's how good he is." Shanks stood on the other side of the sofa, regarding Mihawk determinedly. Beckman, as usual, showed more sensitivity than his captain and had not come into the fireplace room. "I can't remember the last time I've seen you like that."
Mihawk groaned softly and then let himself sink to the ground next to Roronoa.
"You are clearly the real monster among us, Redhair. How can you do this to me? It will take him months – maybe even years – to reach the level he showed today. How am I supposed to endure so long? I feel like I am losing my mind."
Shanks awkwardly rested his elbow on the backrest and then rested his bearded chin on his hand.
"So you've chosen a worthy successor," he grumbled, but his voice sounded unusually cool. "Almost makes me jealous. You've never talked about me like that."
"No, I did not," Mihawk agreed.
"So I shot myself in the foot, huh? After today, there's no chance you'll fight me again, right?"
"You fed this chance to a sea king over a decade ago; do not blame Roronoa."
"A swordfighter who bows to his weapon just to win a fight. Odd kid you found there. Don't swordsmen always want to control a fight at all costs?"
"He did not bow, Shanks. That is what is so special about him. Roronoa is an incredibly proud swordfighter and yet he feels no shame in following as long as he considers it the right way. He realized that he was the weak point in this fight and allowed Yoru to take control to compensate for this weakness. In a life-and-death battle, pride would get in the way of most swordsmen, and they would die." He looked at Roronoa's battered face. "He, on the other hand, has decided to follow his weapon, the only way that would give him the slightest chance of victory in a fight against someone like you."
"Then why are you so angry?"
Slowly he looked up, met the gaze of his former rival. Such conversations had always been rare between them, those moments when Mihawk almost liked him.
"Because the price was too high, and you should have noticed. Yoru does not settle for a smidgen. It demanded of him to be as good as I am, and his body cannot give that yet. If I had not intervened, this battle would have destroyed Roronoa without you having to defeat him. His body would simply not have been able to withstand the strain at some point. The consequences are already disastrous."
The other's eyes followed his, Shanks made a thoughtful sound.
"Funny, you're right, his Haki flow is surprisingly – almost dangerously - unsteady. I really didn't notice it in battle... no, I could swear that it had been good, even impressively fluent. I would have noticed if he..."
"That is why I say you are an amateur, Redhair." Mihawk rolled his eyes. "Of course, his Haki flow in combat was as good as it can be. The capacities of this boy are impressive for his current abilities and his concentration is almost perfect during a fight and of course Yoru needs a perfect Haki flow for a reasonable fight."
"The how did you notice? I mean, I also noticed that he put a lot of pressure on his body, but I thought he would..."
"Roronoa has an unpleasant habit of ignoring his own limits. Like a certain other someone I know." They exchanged a quick glance. "That is why I paid extra attention to his physical condition."
"But you didn't intervene before? Why? I was already convinced, and you had seen what you wanted to see. Why didn't you stop him sooner?"
He stayed silent.
"Could it be...? Were you so fascinated by our little skirmish for a moment that you... Hawky, were you distracted? Don't tell me, is he the one?" Now Shanks leaned forward grinning mischievously. "Are you telling me he's the one you've been waiting for all along? The perfect...?"
"No." Mihawk looked at Roronoa's face again, now the exertions showed, his cheeks had already sunken in slightly. He would probably need a few days before they could continue their training. "I doubt Roronoa will ever achieve the perfection I desire. Nevertheless, today I was able to take a glance into the future, and what I have seen far exceeds my expectations. So yes, I was distracted for a moment, I admit. Once again, I underestimated him."
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, feeling almost exhausted, even though he had not done nothing.
"Towards the end he tried to satisfy Yoru completely, but only I can do that, so he had lost his own fighting style and had slipped more and more into mine, so I knew that he had already given up too much. No matter how much you open up to your sword, you must never let your sword force you to copy the fighting style of the previous leader." Then he looked at Shanks. "Forgive me for my rough words. But your fight was very much riveting for me and I was worried about his health, had been annoyed by my negligence. It was not fair to expect you to notice these subtleties when you do not know Roronoa or Yoru as well as I do."
He lowered his gaze back to Roronoa, who was breathing steadily.
"Would you not mind if we postponed whatever you have to discuss until tomorrow? I do not feel like letting the impressions of this unexpected prophecy fade away by trivial everyday problems."
"As you wish." Shanks walked across the room, but not to the door, but around the sofa, and then, to Mihawk's surprise, sank down next to him. His gaze had a seriousness that Mihawk was not used to. Since the fight had been over, the other behaved in a manner that Mihawk found quite pleasant, and that made him alert. There could only be one reason for this, Shanks was analyzing him.
"Are you aware that you just apologized to me for something for the very first time since we met?" Shank's eyes seemed to look for something within him and then they grew big, stunned he looked at Roronoa and then Mihawk again.
Mihawk replied nothing, did not hide, did not deny himself. Shanks liked to be a dumb pinhead and extremely annoying, but his social streak was much better developed than Mihawk's own, and he displayed an emotional intelligence that had always been incomprehensible to Mihawk. He did not know what information helped Shanks draw his conclusions, but Mihawk knew when a fight was pointless.
"You love him," Shanks stated with a clarity, as if he knew Mihawk's feelings better than he did. "Am I right, Mihawk? Does your cold heart beat for this boy?"
Something about the other's voice made him hesitate, as if this possibility were something unimaginable for the man who liked to make the impossible possible. But Mihawk did not know what it was, and whatever it was, it would not change the truth, so he nodded.
"Does he know?"
He laughed softly. "Do you really think I would admit such a disgrace to him? Fortunately, his social skills are... weak. Jiroushin claims he would not even understand, even if I told him and I have to admit that he is probably right."
"Shall I tell him? I know ways and means that he would get it."
Without looking up, he once slapped the back of the other's head with full force.
"Just kidding, just kidding." But there was still that strange tone in Shank's voice that bothered Mihawk. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, not even Ben."
"I would ask you for that."
"You ask?!" Unimpressed, he met the almost frightened look of the other. "Damn, you're really scaring me. Didn't think I'd ever see you so tame."
"I have no other choice. We both know that you would not have believed me if I had denied my feelings, and then you would have told everyone just to annoy me. But I have no interest in killing you, because then I would be expected to take care of the events of this world; that is clearly too annoying for me. Additionally, everyone knows that you are too simpleminded to be blackmailed. So, all I can do is ask if I want to prevent these words from ever leaving this room."
"That's right," Shanks nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the sofa. "Well, if in doubt, this conversation will die with me. But Mihawk..."
Now the other looked at him far too seriously.
"If it ever comes to a wedding, I want an invitation and I want to say the toast."
In fact, this bad joke made him smile.
"For all I care, Redhair, if this is your condition, then I can safely take it."
"Oh, can you?" It seemed as if Shanks wanted to say something else, but at that moment the door opened and Beckman came in, followed by Perona, who brought dinner along.
-Zoro-
Yoru!
He sat up in bed... or rather on the sofa, as he discovered after a moment of disorientation.
His whole body hurt. It wasn't like his monster had taken control, no, they pain reminded him of Kuma, and the past weeks of training. Everything burned, everything hurt, the bones almost breaking, the muscles about to tear, partly torn. But he could move, and it was his body, still his body.
What had happened?
But then he remembered, and the tension slipped out of his body, giving the pain even more space and he felt nauseous. He had fought against Shanks, for a few breaths he had actually fought Shanks.
Slowly he looked down at his battered hands, fingers and palms covered with already healing blisters, partly oozing, partly bloody.
The nausea increased and the world in front of him began to turn.
Was that...? The way Yoru had made him fight, was that...? Could it be...?
"You woke up, that is good. I was already slightly worried."
He looked up when his dizziness suddenly subsided. Mihawk stood at the window and looked out into the foggy night.
"How long was I out?" asked Zoro.
"A little longer than a day. Redhair was quite disappointed; he would have liked to talk to you."
"They left? When?"
"This morning. Beckman, as always, has a tight schedule. Tze, sometimes you could easily forget who the captain of this crew is." Then the other sighed. "But that does not matter anymore. Tell me how you are feeling. I assume you do not want to continue your training today?"
Zoro knew that the other was teasing him – after all, talking alone hurt so much that he wanted to cry out – but he couldn't help it.
"Yes," he murmured, "at sunrise I want to continue."
"That is what I feared."
Surprised, he looked at the other's back. Mihawk didn't even try to talk him out of it?
"So, you understand what happened, Roronoa?"
Although the other didn't look at him, Zoro just nodded, unable to say it out loud. There were no words to express what he was feeling.
"Good." Now, for the first time, Mihawk's voice sounded different, deeper. "Then we will leave at sunrise and finally adapt your physique to your ability."
"Was that... was that really me?" whispered Zoro, although he knew the answer, for once he knew the answer. "It wasn't Yoru, was it? That was...?"
"Of course, it was you," the other snorted softly, immediately sounding condescending again. "Please, what a naïve question. Yoru may have demanded it, but what does not exist cannot be given."
For a moment, Zoro remembered that feeling, his senses, his body, Yoru at that moment. But then he looked at the other, who still had his back turned towards him.
"Are you angry?" he asked. "Because I have once again ignored my limits?"
Mihawk sighed.
"A little," he admitted. "However, it was the only option you had against Shanks. In fact, I am rather impressed. Not many swordsmen are willing to let their weapon take the lead, but it fits your previous behavior."
Zoro thought about these words for a moment, but Mihawk continued: "Nevertheless, as a sword master, you should never obey your sword, Roronoa. Most swords are greedy and obsessed with battle, the weakness of a human body is the same to them. Once you let yourself be controlled by your sword, you will never..."
"Yoru didn't control me."
"What? What are you talking about? I saw it with my own eyes, how you..."
"I adapted to Yoru, I followed Yoru. But I voluntarily let it into my mind."
Very slowly, Mihawk turned to him, his eyes wide open like Zoro had never seen before.
"You want to tell me you were aware of what happened, and you willingly accepted it?"
Zoro shook his head.
"No, I didn't accept it, Yoru didn't demand it. I asked Yoru to take the lead."
"What?" Mihawk crossed his arms doubtfully.
"Yes, of course. I just couldn't keep up with Shanks, but Yoru could keep up with his sword, so I had to get better, and Yoru knew how, so I decided to let Yoru take the lead."
Mihawk slowly walked towards him, his forehead furrowed.
"At the beginning, perhaps, but towards the end you lost yourself, didn't you? I could see clearly that you..."
"I tried to imitate your fighting style," Zoro interrupted, "because I knew Yoru needed your fighting style to fight as freely as possible."
Shaking his head, Mihawk stopped on the other side of the sofa and looked down at Zoro.
"You want to tell me that you followed Yoru but kept control even when Yoru took the lead?"
Zoro nodded, not understanding why Mihawk apparently didn't understand him.
"You want to tell me that even at the end of the fight you could have banished Yoru from your mind at any time, even though you were almost delirious?"
Zoro nodded again.
"But then why were you so absentminded? To me, you seemed as if Yoru had clouded your mind?"
"Do you have any idea how freaking much my body hurt?" grumbled Zoro with a shrug, only to find out that his body was still hurting like shit. "Yoru helped me block out the pain so I could focus on the fight. Of course, my mind was clouded, but I hadn't lost myself in Yoru, I did it on purpose to be able to endure the pain so I could concentrate."
Mihawk just looked at him.
"When I realized the opportunity Yoru offered me, I wanted to enjoy it, I wanted to put up a good fight. I wanted..." He hesitated, looked down at his hands again. "I wanted to prove that I was worth the wait. I may not be there yet, but I'm not a waste of time."
Then Zoro looked decisively at his teacher.
"I may still need Yoru to overcome my physical limits, but I promise that I will become an opponent that even Shank's wasn't to you."
Now the other's eyes widened, then he lowered his gaze and a soft smile glided over his hard features.
"You always manage to surprise me, Roronoa. So, you understood?" Mihawk crouched down and rested his arms on the backrest of the sofa so that they were almost at eye level. Zoro was surprised at how gently the other looked at him. "I am patient, Roronoa, because believe me, I did not need this fight to know that it will be worth the wait."
Abruptly, the other then rose again.
"However, I confess that I did not expect this interesting twist." Slowly he walked around the sofa and sat down on the side table opposite of Zoro. "You know, you are not the first swordfighter to let his sword lead. They are rare, but there are swordsmen who do not want to take the lead at any cost. In fact, Jirou always lets his rapier lead in a life-and-blood battle."
"What?", Zoro looked at the other in surprise.
"Of course, why do you think he is a master of the rapier? The special thing about his weapon Gars is that this rapier has a very reserved disposition. It takes the lead, when needed, but never takes control. They go very well together; a more aggressive sword would take advantage of Jirou's gentleness very quickly." Mihawk sighed. "All right, but Jiroushin is not relevant right now; the partnership with Gars is unique in a way. Because he is probably the only swordfighter whose weapon does not want to control him when he gives up the lead. That is why I warned you, Roronoa. For most swordsmen, relinquishing leadership also means giving up control, and sooner or later their downfall."
These words didn't really surprise Zoro. He knew the stories of warriors who had become will-less puppets of their weapons, was familiar with the quiet and loud greed of his Kitetsu. Back when he had been allowed to take Wado-Ichi-Monji, his teacher had explained to him how powerful the will of swords could be and that few weapons were as peace-loving as the one in Zoro's hands.
All these things had never frightened Zoro, never intimidated, not compared to his own monster, to this absolute loss of control. But maybe that was exactly why he would never have allowed a weapon – even if it were Yoru – to control him.
He noticed Mihawk examining him as if he were following Zoro's thoughts.
"You are indeed an odd man, Roronoa." Then he rose. "You should get some sleep so we can resume your training soon."
"You're in a strange mood," Zoro grumbled. "Did anything happen? Normally, you'd be totally against me starting again so soon and..."
"I said I would patient, Roronoa, but not that patient." Mihawk turned to him, and Zoro could see the burning in those eyes. "It is hard enough for me to see you fight like that and not be able to compete against you myself. But now... to wield a sword without having to fight for control... Did you know that even I could not just do it, but had to learn it? Did you know that hardly any swordfighter can learn this successfully? I do not know any active swordfighter next to me who has not failed in this attempt. And you... you just did it as a matter of course, and with Yoru on top of that."
Shaking his head, Mihawk shrugged his shoulders and showed a rare honest smile before turning back to leave with a wink.
"You may not even realize how impressive your deed was, but Roronoa, believe me, Jiroushin was wrong; your talent is unique." But then he stopped without looking at Zoro. "Although unique is probably not true. After all, my sister could do it, too. Well, who knows, maybe Shanks was right after all."
"Wait, what do you mean...?"
But the other had left the room, leaving Zoro with these words, and maybe it should shake Zoro, scare him or whatever. But Zoro didn't care. Mihawk had seemed very satisfied, and Zoro was damn tired. About control, leading, swords, Sharak, and Shanks he could brood at some other point. Now he should sleep, because at sunrise he would begin to make this fleeting moment of the future become reality.