Hey everybody,

here's a little something I hope you will enjoy.

Have a great weekend!

All is fair in love and war

At some time after the last chapter

-Mihawk-

"Where are we going?" grumbled Roronoa as he plodded beside Mihawk and crossed his arms. He suppressed a yawn, but could not hide the many scrapes and bandages, yet he did not seem to have suffered worse injuries from the last disaster his crew had caused.

"I thought of a restaurant on Groove 43. It is not far away and they have an excellent selection of wine and sake," he explained, rather surprised that Roronoa asked at all.

"So this is... some kind of date?" Roronoa sounded as if Mihawk had suggested that he should exchange friendship bracelets with the Chef.

"If you want to call it that," he replied with a raised eyebrow and slightly insulted. "We wanted to meet here for a few hours before you leave, something like that is usually called a rendezvous, indeed."

"All right, all right," Roronoa grumbled, raising a hand defensively. "I'm just surprised you like this cheesy stuff."

Mihawk sighed. Was he mistaken or was his companion slightly irritated? Albeit there was no reason for it, Roronoa had only recently been able to fight, the weather was nice, and Mihawk had not yet argued with his crew. But well, Mihawk knew from years of experience how to deal with a bad-tempered Roronoa, even if this conciliatory tone always strained him a bit.

"Roronoa, I like to spend my time in your presence, and I like to enjoy good wine, if this is already cheesy for you, I cannot change it. If it is too terrible for you, we can do something else."

"I didn't say anything," Roronoa murmured with a slight shake of his head before sighing and looking up at Mihawk. "Wine and sake sound good, so let's go to this restaurant."

He nodded and they continued their way.

"Is there a reason for your bad mood?" he asked.

"I'm just tired," Roronoa blocked directly.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Mihawk gave in and decided to address less problematic issues: "How long do you have time? You wanted to leave this evening, correct?"

"If the coating is finished by then," Roronoa agreed with another yawn.

"You should be more careful," warned Mihawk, not being too seriously, "if I had not arrived in time, the craftsmen would have shortchanged you."

"Nami had everything under control," the other said before eyeing him suspiciously. "I didn't know you even owned the shipyards here."

"I do not own them, Roronoa. I merely hold 30% of the shares in them and am therefore the main investor."

"And what percentage do I hold?" came from Roronoa, and although he addressed it in his usual bored tone, Mihawk noted both the joke and the warning.

"Five percent currently, and once your capital recovers, more will probably be invested. Due to the friendship treaty with the Fishman island, the shipyards are fully utilized as coaters of the tourist ships and..." He stopped when he noticed that Roronoa was no longer following him. Slowly he turned around, could see the twitching eyebrow of the other. "Do not get upset again, please. We only have a few hours, and I would appreciate if we would not spend them arguing."

Roronoa sighed but nodded.

"I just don't like it when you do stuff like that behind my back," he explained, averting his eyes. "You shouldn't decide such things for me, invest money for me or whatever, and then without talking to me about it first. You know I don't like it."

"I did not mean to upset you, Roronoa. To the best of my knowledge and belief, I have..."

"I know," Roronoa groaned and looked at him. "I know you're a filthy rich bastard, who probably panics at the thought that I have no savings for the future, but..."

"You do not even have any savings for the present, Roronoa," he reminded him. "But no, I am not uncomfortable with the thought that you are not making provisions for your future, after all, I do."

Roronoa groaned again and rubbed the bridge of his nose, like a father who did not want to get upset about the lovingly engraved line drawing in the expensive marble by the beloved toddler.

"Okay," he grumbled, though Mihawk still had a hard time understanding his mood. He had done nothing he should have to justify himself for. There was nothing wrong with him making provision for Roronoa precisely because he did not care for such things, and Roronoa was neither burdened nor obliged to do anything by these acts. Nevertheless, Roronoa was upset about Mihawk's actions, but apparently he did not intend to argue. Because he groaned softly again and then rubbed his hair as if this situation were a cumbersome task for him. "Alright, let's go to this restaurant, have a drink, and stop talking about it, okay?"

He started walking, but Mihawk did not follow him.

"Roronoa." He hesitated. "I... I do not understand why you are so upset, but I... I did not intend..."

"Uuuugh!" Groaning loudly, Roronoa stopped. His shoulders lifted, so deeply did he breathe in as he rubbed his forehead and eyes and slowly turned to Mihawk. Seldom had the other looked at him so exasperated, as if Mihawk were acting rather stupid, although this role between the two of them was never incumbent on Mihawk. Again Roronoa took a deep breath, really like a desperate godfather who tried not to get angry at the ignorant brat – child! – who had broken a one of a kind vase. Then he stomped towards Mihawk and stopped so close to him that Mihawk felt the urge to take a step back, which of course he did not.

With a soft snort, Roronoa let out his deep breath.

"Could you please stop shitting your pants just because your annoying behavior annoys me?" And how could this statement reassure him in the least? Roronoa snorted again and continued to stare him down. "Okay, to be clear, I know why you're doing such crap and that you mean well, so I don't make a big deal out of it. But I'm not going to pretend it doesn't annoy me. I don't like that you think you have to invest money for me, but I get it, so you could stop having an existential crisis so we can finally go for a drink?"

Again Roronoa whirled around and stomped his way, but Mihawk still did not follow him. Roronoa's words made it obvious that he did not understand Mihawk's uncertainty.

"Hnn? What's taking you so long?" With a pulsating vein on his forehead, Roronoa turned back over his shoulder, obviously unnerved, perhaps even more unnerved than before. He was in a really bad mood.

Now it was Mihawk's turn to sigh. He knew that Roronoa could hardly understand his train of thought unless he expressed it clearly, however uncomfortable it would be for him.

"Okay, what's going on?" asked Roronoa and came back. Slowly, his expression changed from unnerved to wary, which was always a sign of danger.

"I am sorry." Mihawk examined the younger. "But unfortunately, I cannot let the topic rest so easily."

"What? Why?" growled Roronoa, immediately irritated again. "I said that I..."

"I did not mean your dislike of my financial plans for you," he explained calmly, though desperately searching for the right words.

Roronoa, on the other hand, tilted his head. "Then what?" he grumbled with undisguised confusion that made it clear that he was unaware that they had scratched a much more fundamental problem in that conversation than a disagreement over investments.

Mihawk swallowed, knowing he had to say it out loud for Roronoa to understand, but that did not necessarily make it any easier for him. But to his surprise, Roronoa seemed to notice his hesitation, for he exhaled softly and crossed his arms before walking a few feet away and leaning against one of the mangroves.

"So, what's wrong, spit it out." He sounded calmer than before, almost civilized, grown-up. "You seem to be racking your brain over some crap again."

With a slow nod, Mihawk followed him into the shade of the huge tree, and for a moment he examined his partner, who looked at him coolly, a look Mihawk did not know how to interpret.

"I am sorry," he repeated, "but your rejection does make me feel insecure and I cannot just dismiss it like you expect me to."

"Huh?" came from Roronoa. "What are you talking about? When the hell did I reject...?" He interrupted himself when Mihawk raised a hand placatingly.

"I am aware that the way I show my… – oh, I should just call it what it is – affection is not necessarily similar to what you would have in mind, and of course it is your right to say so, and if it really is such an imposing inconvenience for you, I will endeavor to refrain from such plans in the future. But..."

"I said, everything's fine, even if it annoys me," Roronoa interjected.

"But it is not easy for me, if you reject me this insistently, do you understand?" concluded Mihawk.

Again Roronoa tilted his head to the side.

"No, not at all," he muttered. "I don't even know when I have apparently rejected you. All I'm saying is that it annoys me when you do anything behind my back, even if it's well-intentioned."

"But that is exactly what I mean," Mihawk explained. "For you, it may just be an action that you reject, but for me it feels... sometimes as if you reject my affection as such, even me as your partner."

Roronoa's scarred eyelid moved upwards as he stared at Mihawk with his eye squinted, his mouth slightly open; he almost looked like he had a cramp. For several seconds there was silence between them, while Roronoa stared at him with that tense expression and Mihawk had to expose himself in such an embarrassing way.

"Okay...", Roronoa murmured as the thought wheels snapped into place behind his forehead, before closing his eye for a moment and running a hand through his hair. "So, that doesn't really make much sense to me now, but in summary, just because it pisses me off that you're doing some crap behind my back, you immediately think I'd brush you off?"

"I would not say it that way, but yes, something like that," Mihawk admitted.

"But that's just plain stupid," Roronoa grumbled. "Why would you believe that? You're not some wimp who panics just because something happens, or someone can't stand you. I've told you so many times..."

"I do not think you are aware of how unfamiliar this situation is to me," Mihawk interrupted him gently, and Roronoa let him. "Of course, I am confident, proud, vain, and all those adjectives that describe an impressive personality."

"Arrogant," Roronoa interjected directly, "puffed up."

"There is certainly little that can unsettle me. It is a matter of course that things go the way I want them to, that I can get my way, no matter what it is." He sighed softly again and lowered his gaze. "But you, Roronoa, I never want to and can never take you for granted, because I cannot and will not impose my will on you and that unsettles me deeply. I feel like I can never be sure of you, and it is unusual for me to be so vulnerable that another person's actions affect my emotions so much. I am aware that my insecurity may seem nonsensical to you, but the fact is that I fear your rejection like hardly anything else."

Again it was quiet between them for a long time and he wondered what the other was thinking, how he received and processed these words. He could not predict what Roronoa's reaction would be, another reason for his uncertainty, this constant unpredictability.

"And what do we do now?" came the unexpected question from Roronoa, who snorted discontentedly. "Well, I don't feel like buttering you up just because you're panicking. Way too bothersome."

"You have a very direct way of expressing your dislike, Roronoa, that does not always make it easy for me," he remarked.

"Yes, I have a very direct way of addressing things that annoy me and I would also have a very direct way of showing my dislike. It's not my fault if you're always looking between the lines for something that's not there."

Mihawk sighed softly and rubbed his face, somewhat perplexed.

"I am well aware of that," he agreed. "It is my insecurity and I envy that you do not doubt your feelings or mine in any way, but have accepted them as God-given, while a long sigh on your part already discourages me. It is truly uncomfortable how important your acceptance is to me and how easily I worry about it."

"God-given?" Roronoa grumbled with a roll of his eye before finally nodding. "Okay, I get what's going on, but I don't know what you want from me now. I can't help it if you doubt me every other second. But honestly, when one of us messes up, the other has always addressed it – and most of the time not in the sensitive way – and we're still here. So there's no reason for you to panic just because I don't sugarcoat anything."

"But it is difficult," Mihawk gently objected. "Of course you are right, false consideration on your part is noting we both want, and I appreciate your undisguised honesty, even if I do not always welcome the choice of words. So I do not want you to refrain from doing so, just..."

He hesitated when he tried to grasp his emotions, which was certainly not easy for him.

"What do you want then?" asked Roronoa.

"I think... some kind of security," he surmised. "Something that confirms to me that you do not reject me, no matter what. Even if you reject my actions, especially if they are out of affection."

Again, Roronoa seemed to think about these words.

"And what would such security look like?" he asked, and that was the problem.

"I do not know," Mihawk admitted quietly. "I know that conversations like this should be enough. But the truth is, in such moments it is not enough for me." He observed Roronoa thoughtfully, who met his gaze expressionlessly. "I feel like I always have to... seek... or demand your feelings for me. As if you do not want to show them to me voluntarily, and that unsettles me. Do you understand that?"

Now it was Roronoa who looked at him before he nodded barely noticeably.

"I see," he said slowly. "I'm not good at this crap, but it's actually like sword fighting, right? You want me to challenge you to a fight on my own and not always wait for you to challenge me."

"You put that surprisingly well into words," Mihawk noted, truly impressed by this metaphor, which was unusual for Roronoa. "Certainly, if I am the only one who always challenges you, I begin to wonder whether you crave this fight as much as I do, or if you are just enduring my attitude. And the same goes for this relationship. I know that kitsch and romance do not suit you – neither me, by the way – but if you never show me that you return my feelings, it quickly unsettles me as soon as I experience rejection."

Mihawk shuddered at his own words, at this pathetic dependency that the other caused in him and now demanded of him to admit openly.

"Mhm," Roronoa said, putting a hand to his chin and looking thoughtfully at Mihawk's boots, without really seeing them. "In theory I understand, but what does it mean in practice?"

Mihawk was still surprised that Roronoa not only understood the metaphor of a challenge to fight so perfectly but had even devised it himself. For a moment he thought about this question.

"Well, I think there is no one-size-fits-all solution, but rather individual preferences," he surmised. "Just as some bow and politely ask, but others bar your way and boldly demand the fight."

"Meaning?" Now Roronoa's gaze was on him again.

"It means we both have a way of challenging the other preferentially and a way of being challenged preferentially. I like the polite request but appreciate enthusiasm. You are of a more direct nature and even if the choice of words does not matter to you, you clearly reject manipulation." He waited until Roronoa nodded before continuing to speak. "And it is the same in a relationship. Each of us has his own signs, gestures, and actions to... to express affection, but sometimes we do not succeed, we misunderstand each other. An example of this would be me managing your capital. It was well-intentioned, but it misses the point if you do not like it."

Roronoa nodded slowly, still with his hand on his chin but his cheeks slightly reddened, to Mihawk's surprise. "Okay, so to put it bluntly, I should show with gestures and whatever that I can still stand you, no matter what."

Even now, he did not say it explicitly, did not call their relationship by name, as if he was embarrassed, and yet... no matter what.

"Exactly," Mihawk confirmed patiently, but also with warm cheeks, "and I would like these gestures and whatever to be clear and different from your behavior towards your friends - just as your challenge to a fight would be different from your quarrels with the Chef - but please not too vulgar. Because as unfamiliar as this relationship is to you, it is also to me, and physical affection is something I do not like to show in public. Quite different from your crewmembers, some of whom seem to love to cling to you like limpets."

"Sure, anything else? Poems and flowers?" Roronoa grumbled directly. "And don't tell me on top you're jealous now."

"Always, but no, I understand that this is often a sign of their fear, and they habitually hide behind stronger crewmembers. "

"Oh, shut up," Roronoa growled, rolling his eye, but then his gaze lingered on his own hand before looking up. The next moment he held it out to Mihawk, as if to show him that it was empty. He watched the gesture and did not understand.

"And what is this supposed to be?"

"My challenge to a fight. It's direct, nothing I would normally do, and not too..."

And then Mihawk understood, and he blushed even more instantly.

"Is this already to... vulgar?" Now Roronoa showed his ugly grin, which Mihawk liked so much.

"Actually, yes. I cannot recall having ever done anything like that," he answered breathlessly before closing his eyes for a moment and tensing his shoulders. "However, my partner is a pirate, so I should get at least somewhat used to bold manners."

"You're a pirate, too," Roronoa grumbled as Mihawk took a deep breath and then grabbed his rough hand. His heart was beating unusually fast, and his face became very hot, whereupon Roronoa only grinned mischievously.

"Oh gosh, you'd think we'd be doing who knows what right now, the way you're looking." The next moment he pushed himself off the tree and walked on, almost pulling Mihawk along. For one step he stumbled, then he found Roronoa's rhythm and frugally they finally continued their way.

"Is that... is that really okay with you?" murmured Mihawk quietly. "I did not think you..."

"It's the only thing I could come up with this quick and it's easy to do." Roronoa shrugged his shoulders and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's not exactly my thing, but it's okay. If it takes that, so that you don't panic when I call you out, then I can live with it."

"I prefer appropriate criticism."

"Don't worry, you'll get that, too."

For a few seconds they walked side by side in silence, Mihawk lowered his warm head, looked at their hands again and again, could not remember the last time he had held someone else's hand in this way; perhaps with his sister before he had started school. He thought he could feel the gazes of passers-by on him and of course he imagined that it had to be because of that, although it was absolutely not unusual for him to attract attention.

"Maybe we should think of something else in the long term," he suggested rather meekly, pulling his hat deeper into his face.

"To bold?" Roronoa grinned mischievously at him, as if deliberately making fun of Mihawk, before sighing. "I don't care, but I can't really think of anything that would meet all your requirements; You're really a handful."

"You could simply tell me that you have feelings for me beyond acceptance and endurance, just as couples usually express their love for each other. By now, you have become quite capable of expressing yourself according to etiquette, if you want to."

"Yeah, you can forget that," Roronoa grumbled with a determined shake of his head. "There's no way I'm going to start reciting poems or do any of that stuff."

"That way," Mihawk remarked, as Roronoa habitually took the wrong direction. "I do not expect grand gestures, no impressive speeches – I am well aware that you do not like that – but... is even one word of affection too much to ask? The simple confirmation that you still love me, is that too much to ask?"

Roronoa was silent for a few steps.

"I'm not going to politely ask for a fight just because some etiquette dictates it," he grumbled thoughtfully. "When I challenge you, I want to be serious. But how can I be serious if I don't take this etiquette you're talking about seriously? That doesn't make sense to me."

"Would you like to explain this train of thought to me?" asked Mihawk.

Roronoa sighed softly, as so often that day.

"For you, words are important, meaningful and whatever, but for me they are just words, nothing more. The only meaning they have for me is that I stand by them and measure my actions against them." Then he shrugged his shoulders. "And some words are just empty shells. For you the word love has a great meaning, for me it doesn't, so how should I be able to stand by it? Why should I tell you empty words that mean nothing to me? That makes no sense to me; almost hypocritical."

Mihawk wanted to say something but was distracted when he suddenly saw the Sniper of the Straw Hats in the distance, who also noticed them and waved at them as he hurried towards them. Like a magnet, their hands seemed to attract the dark eyes of the other and Mihawk felt his cheeks get hot again.

"Hey Zoro, there you are!" came from the Sniper, who obviously had to force himself to look his crewmember in the face. Mihawk, on the other hand, was already afraid that the crew was about to leave before he and Roronoa had been able to enjoy a decent wine and had wasted their time together on such annoying topics.

"What's wrong?" replied Roronoa, quite relaxed since the Sniper seemed neither panicked nor uncertain.

"Just wanted to tell you we decided to stay overnight."

"Why?" grumbled Roronoa directly. "Luffy wanted to get going as soon as the coating was done."

"The festival," Mihawk remarked with a soft grin and nodded over to the Ferris wheel, which could partly be seen above the treetops of the mangroves.

"What festival?"

"Exactly," the Sniper confirmed Mihawk's assumption. "Apparently, tomorrow is a huge festival and Luffy really wants to go there. So we'll probably stay another day or two."

"Okay," came from Roronoa with a shrug. "But you didn't have to look for me just to tell me that."

"Oh, no problem," laughed the Sniper and rubbed the back of his neck. "Was already on my way anyway, well and... you know..." Blushing, he gesticulated in the direction of Mihawk and Roronoa. "Robin said you'd like to know. Besides, we all want to meet at Shakky's tonight. Okay, I'll get going then, see you later!" And already he ran away, as if he had suddenly seen a ghost and feared that Mihawk would want to rip his throat out.

"You have bizarre crewmembers," Mihawk murmured and looked after him.

"Whatever, it means we have more time to drink," Roronoa said simply, "so come on."

"This way, Roronoa." He pointed with his free hand in the opposite direction to the one Roronoa wanted to pull him to.

They went on in silence. Mihawk did not know whether he should take up the issue again. As so often, Roronoa had been quite clear in his words and that should actually be enough for Mihawk. He knew what Roronoa was like, that he was willingly having these conversations with Mihawk, that he took his worries seriously, that he was here right now, all that should be enough for him. For Roronoa, all this was already a very clear language, but not as clear as the spoken word for Mihawk.

Roronoa stayed silent and so they reached the restaurant chosen by Mihawk without another word.

"Um... This one?" Roronoa looked at him doubtful.

"Stop acting like that, you have been to similar locations before." Mihawk was well aware that this was more true for Lady Loreen and Roronoa would otherwise avoid such restaurants, if only for financial reasons, although with his tattered shirt and all the scratches and bandages he would usually be denied entry anyway.

As they entered, the staff bowed, took off Mihawk's coat and hat, and tried not to stare at Roronoa too much, and led them into a discrete area with curtains for some privacy.

"I have taken the liberty of choosing a sake for you. But of course, you can take a look at the menu yourself," Mihawk remarked, putting Yoru aside and sitting down.

Roronoa eyed the waiter for a moment, who bowed deeply and closed the curtains, then he also dropped onto the round sofa opposite of Mihawk.

"Are you sure it's okay for us to be seen here together?"

"I do not care what others think, Roronoa, now that you do not need to hide anymore. I want to spend time with you and this restaurant here is one of the few that meet my expectations. However, if it is too uncomfortable for you, then..."

"I don't really care where I drink," Roronoa interrupted with a shrug. "As long as these peacocks leave us alone and you don't expect me to tie a tie."

"A bow tie would probably be more appropriate," Mihawk remarked with a grin.

Shortly afterwards the waiter came with the requested drinks and finally the mood between them relaxed as they talked about alcohol, swords, and past fights. Roronoa seemed dissatisfied with his last one – which at least explained his bad mood – and together they worked through the mistakes he had made.

Roronoa praised Mihawk's choice of drinks – as if he had not consciously chosen something to Roronoa's liking and as if Roronoa was particularly picky – and they joked about whether they really wanted to visit the festival the next day, as if it was already decided that they would spend time together the following day, which Mihawk had not taken for granted.

At the thought of the evening party in Shakuyak's bar, Mihawk's mood dropped slightly, but Roronoa did not care about his excuses that neither she nor Roronoa's crew could stand him and thus Mihawk accepted his fate of having to spend a noisy evening in the presence of the Straw Hats. Maybe it was only fair, after all, Roronoa was currently trying to do the same for him, while he naturally stood out from the usual guests with his bandages, his simple clothing, and his language.

But Roronoa did not mind, and neither did Mihawk, in fact he was quite pleased despite everything. Although he was uncomfortable having to expose himself so unpleasantly to Roronoa every time and his weaknesses were embarrassing to him, Roronoa was indifferent to such trifle. He accepted Mihawk's word, spoke his mind, looked for a simple solution, and then concluded with the topic, truly a special gift.

When the waiter arrived, Mihawk took care of the financial obligation, while Roronoa poured the last drops of sake into his masu, looking highly concentrated as if it were a complex task.

"Taking a bath," Roronoa suddenly murmured into his sake as the curtains closed. "Although, not like the crew isn't sharing the bathroom all the time. Besides, I don't really like bathing... but if it's a good onsen and they have sake there..."

"What are you talking about, Roronoa?" Confused, Mihawk stared at him, whereupon Roronoa just shrugged his shoulders and drank his sake.

"In this kitschy novel from the Cook, that one guy always asked to take a bath together and... oh come on, how did you ever get into bed with someone?"

With hot cheeks, Mihawk had lowered his eyes. "Just keep making fun of me."

"So?"

He looked up in surprise. "So what?"

Roronoa still gave him that mean grin. "I like onsen, I like good sake, and I like your face just thinking about it."

Mihawk sighed submissively: "By all means, today I chose our activity, next time I will leave the choice to you. I do not mind if the choice is an onsen, but please one with private areas."

"That shy?"

"Oh, I certainly do not have to hide, Roronoa, but I prefer intimate togetherness to a family bathroom, especially for a..."

"A date?" Roronoa did not sound nearly as annoyed as the last time he had uttered that word. Amazing what a good sake and a conversation about sword fighting could do. "Although training or a practice fight would also be quite right for me."

"Well, we have a relationship, so we should go on dates from time to time, as it is usual for couples."

Snorting softly, Roronoa emptied his sake. "Your weird etiquette again? We never did this crap on Kuraigana and that was much easier."

"Well, the easy days are over," Mihawk remarked, avoiding pointing out that they had not been in a relationship at that time, "and while we are at it, even though I would like to avoid it, I think your crew might be waiting for you by now."

Shortly afterwards they left the restaurant and set off for Grove 13 in the light of the setting sun. Mihawk was already preparing for the fact that all their future moments would look like this, and in his mind he saw himself and Roronoa enjoying the hot springs in mutual silence, before suddenly the door would slam open and the uncouth mob of the Straw Hats would storm in.

Sighing, he admitted to himself that he had always been bad at sharing.

His gaze fell on Roronoa. This time they did not hold hands and Mihawk did not know whether he liked it or not. He was still unsure about the conversation about their relationship. He knew he did not want to push Roronoa and he could not just expect certain things from him, but Roronoa almost never showed his feelings. Nevertheless, perhaps Mihawk should take a risk rather than expect security from his partner, because one thing he was at least very aware of on this strange day.

"Roronoa."

"Hmm?" Questioningly, the other looked up at him and stopped a step later as well.

"I love you."

Roronoa looked at him for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and took a deep breath. "I know," he said, almost with a sigh.

For a moment he examined this reaction, which for whatever reason did not even surprise him.

"Do you not like it when I say that?" he asked, without resenting Roronoa's reaction, who apparently thought about it for a second before rubbing his neck and shaking his head.

"No, that's not it. It's just... not necessary."

"You think it's not necessary for me to confess my love to you?" asked Mihawk, almost amused. Truly a strange man.

Roronoa nodded. "Well, it's not the first time, is it? Besides, as I said, this word doesn't really mean anything to me. I know that you think it is important, so it must have some meaning, but you've already told me, so these repetitions are unnecessary. I mean, you also don't keep telling me that you live on Kuraigana, right?"

"But... But this is something else."

"Is it? Really?"

"Yes, of course! With my words, I assure you that my feelings persist and therefore they are important!"

"No, that's why they're unnecessary. It's a fact you don't need to keep repeating," Roronoa snorted.

"You misunderstand," Mihawk objected. "It is not about something set in stone, but..."

He fell silent as Roronoa stared him down coolly. Then he sighed deeply and rolled his eye. The next moment, Roronoa took two steps backwards and bowed as deeply as Mihawk had never seen before, pressing one hand on his chest and the other on his back as if he were at the court of a king. "My most honored Lord Mihawk, although you have sworn to me so many times that you wish to fight me, I must ask you if you continue to look forward to me challenging you again one day?"

Stunned, Mihawk stood there for a moment, then he had to press a hand to his twitching mouth, averting his gaze, almost embarrassed by Roronoa's behavior. Mihawk was used to Roronoa trying to use better phrasing as Lady Loreen, but his true figure did not fit this choice of words, tone, or body language, and he seemed more like a talentless court jester.

Still in that deep bow, Roronoa looked up at him with raised eyebrows and a condescending grin. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Indeed," he chuckled. "I have rarely heard you say something so embarrassing. You are making a fool of yourself."

"And that's what it sounds like to me." Roronoa straightened up again and crossed his arms. "For me, it's absolutely unnecessary, but if you want to say it, go ahead. I have no problem if you make a fool of yourself, you're pretty good at that anyway."

Mihawk sighed and decided that if Roronoa could make a fool of himself, so could he.

"I wish one day you would see the meaning behind those words, but until then, I am willing to make a fool of myself for you." Then he held out his hand to Roronoa. "Your friends are waiting."

To his surprise, Roronoa grabbed it without the slightest hesitation and together they continued on their way. Oh yes, how much he loved this strange man.

A little later, he repeated this thought like a mantra while trying to ignore the loud and energetic crew along with friends and allies in Shakuyak's small bar.

But that was much easier said than done, while Silvers Rayleigh imposed himself on him again and again and the Chef in the background confessed his love to every female being present in the most intrusive and picturesque way, which reminded Mihawk of the past conversation with Roronoa, although he did not want to think about it at the moment, did not want to be reminded of his miserable insecurity.

For a few pleasant minutes he had talked to Jinbei – one of the few present whose presence was not an insult to Mihawk – but then he had been called by his captain and now Mihawk was only trying to reject the Dark King, who wanted to challenge him to a deck of cards, laughing slightly. But Mihawk saw through him. The old man's drunkenness was just an act, the challenge just an excuse, but he had no interest in being reminded by Rayleigh of past conversations.

Oh, he should just leave. The only one he was interested in was showing the crew's Sniper how to open a beer barrel with nothing more than a wine cork and a fork. There were moments when Mihawk doubted his sanity.

"I fell in love with a fool," he admitted quietly and sipped his wine, which could not even begin to compete with his choice of the afternoon.

"Did it really take you that long to notice?" Nico Robin had just placed her empty cup at the counter and now took Jinbei's place opposite him, giving him that smile that made him alert; apart from the Straw Hat and Roronoa, she was clearly the most dangerous member of this crew, even if she knew how to hide it well.

"What can I do for you, Nico Robin?" he immediately clarified the fronts.

"Who says you should do something for me?" she replied playfully. "Maybe I'm just enjoying your presence."

"Oh please," he laughed in amusement. "I expected you to be a little more ingenuous in your lies."

"Who says it's a lie?" Then she leaned forward. "But you are right. I need your help."

With raised eyebrows, he watched as she unfolded a sheet of paper and spread it out on the table in front of him. It featured an article about a recently deceased author. Now Nico Robin pointed to the picture of the author, who posed in front of a wall with exhibited books.

"Hono Kaku," Mihawk recognized her directly. "One of the few outstanding scholars of our time."

"You are aware that her works consisted only of novels?" But Nico Robin was no longer smiling, she was absolutely serious as she asked her trick question.

"Absolutely," Mihawk remarked, looking at her challengingly, "But now she is dead, so what do you want from me?"

He could see her hesitating for a moment, obviously not trusting him – and rightly so – before her greed for knowledge prevailed.

"Do you see this book in the background?" She tapped the picture.

He examined the inconspicuous book, read the title, written in rather angular characters: "Words of an old woman – it seems to be an autobiography. Why are you interested in this book?"

"There is no book with this title," Nico Robin explained seriously. "I searched through all the book directories – both official and unofficial. Hono Kaku never wrote an autobiography, and there is no other work with this title."

"So what? There are countless books that aren't listed. Why should this one be special?" Again he saw her hesitation and decided for once to show his non-existent good nature. "If you want my help, you will at least have to tell me the truth, Nico Robin. I do not like being manipulated. So either you talk or join your friends."

Slowly she looked up and the slightest hint of a smile played around her lips, but what she thought remained her secret.

"It's impressive that you know about her scholarly status, after all, she is known to the world as an imaginative novelist who stayed out of all political, ideological, or social discussions and simply wanted to provide light yet captivating entertainment." She looked at him seriously. "But that's only half the story. Hono Kaku was the grandchild and daughter of scholars of Ohara. Her parents left long before she was born, almost 50 years before the Buster Call, which they haven't lived to see."

Now she pulled out a magnifying glass and several sheets of paper.

"She arranged for this obituary with this picture to be published after her death, two weeks after a compilation of her chosen collection of books was auctioned off for charity. "

"And am I right in assuming that the book we are talking about was part of that."

"That's right, and I noticed something about this title." The next moment, she began to fold the sheet so that parts of the title were folded away.

"The ancient script of the Poneglyphs," Mihawk murmured, leaning forward curiously as Nico Robin placed the magnifying glass over the folded sheet.

"It reads the old truth." She looked at him seriously. "Shortly after the auction, the whereabouts of the book could no longer be traced. I assume it was sold on the black market for who knows how much."

Slowly, Mihawk leaned back and crossed his arms.

"I understand your interest in this book, Nico Robin, but I do not yet understand why I should help you; we are not friends, not even like-minded people."

It seemed as if she had been waiting for exactly this statement, because suddenly she showed a dangerous grin, like a predator that had cornered its prey. Oh, he might be careful, otherwise one day he would actually end up liking her.

"Do you see these ornaments?" She unfolded the sheet again and moved the magnifying glass to the side. The book cover appeared to be framed with hallmarked leather, a highly unusual choice of decoration. But on closer inspection through the magnifying glass, he realized that the hallmarking was uneven, or rather, of different depths, making the leather look slightly darker in some parts, which could simply be dismissed as a sign of aging. "They are also characters but taken apart. I carefully put them back together."

She turned one of the sheets of paper over and it showed two lines of characters that Mihawk could not read.

"What does it mean?" he asked, mildly interested.

"I don't know."

He looked up in surprise.

"I recognize the characters, but they don't make sense, even though I'm absolutely sure I've solved the encryption correctly." She smiled softly as his pulse rose. "That's right, and that's why I think you'll be willing to help me get this book."

"What does Roronoa say?" he asked. "Did he refuse to translate it for you?"

"Oh no." She shook her head. "It's just... quite difficult to convince him. As you know, subtle manipulation usually requires a lot of patience with him and therefore..."

"Oh, what a rookie mistake."

Surprised, she opened her eyes, but Mihawk had already turned away and waved to his companion.

"Roronoa, would you have a moment," he asked through the tumult, actually securing Roronoa's attention, who was emptying the fourth beer barrel, the Sniper had failed to properly open.

With a loud grunt, he rose and came over.

"What?" he grumbled, while Nico Robin looked at Mihawk with barely concealed surprise and almost panic. But he was not intimidated.

"Nico Robin suggested I get this book and I think it could be quite interesting."

"And?" Roronoa looked back and forth between them, unimpressed.

"There are coded characters of Alciel on the cover." He met Roronoa's motionless gaze. "And I wanted to ask you to translate it to us."

For a long moment there seemed to be no oxygen left in the room, such tension lay between them. Then Roronoa sighed and leaned over the table, reaching for the paper.

"It says legends of a forgotten time and underneath it says... well, that doesn't make sense, there must be a mistake." He tilted his head slightly. "I think it should say something like for our Posterity or for our Children or something. You see, this sign here is called Ron, but the conjunction is wrong, as..."

"As if written by someone who is not a native speaker?" helped Mihawk, and Roronoa just nodded. "But you are sure that this is the meaning."

Roronoa put the paper back on the table and nodded again.

"Good." Mihawk enjoyed Nico Robin's amazement for a moment before turning back to Roronoa, who met his gaze seriously. "Do you have any objections to me intending to get this book?"

They were distracted for a moment when the Chef again confessed his love to the navigator and she then slapped him against the next best wall. Mihawk shared Roronoa's somewhat disgusted expression. Slowly he understood why Roronoa could not attach importance to the concept of love when someone like the Chef threw this word around like counterfeit money. His behavior was almost offensive to Mihawk's serious feelings for Roronoa.

"So?" he asked again, bringing the conversation back to the actual topic.

Roronoa examined his crewmember for a moment before he finally looked at Nico Robin and then Mihawk and then rubbed his face.

"Do what you have to," he grumbled. "But leave me out of it."

"Would you still help us, if we need your linguistic knowledge?"

For a moment, Roronoa's jaw tensed, and Nico Robin raised a hand, in a desperate attempt at appeasement, when he growled, "whatever, for all I care."

Game, set, and match!

Mihawk was about to celebrate his superiority when he noticed that Roronoa continued to stare at him in a way he did not like at all.

"Mihawk?", Roronoa growled, still as dangerously as if Mihawk had done something truly wrong.

"Hmm?" he reacted innocently.

"I thought about earlier."

Unsure of what was to come, Mihawk looked at the younger one, who stared at him absolutely coldly, as if Mihawk had made him angry. Well, maybe he had miscalculated.

"So," he grumbled so deeply that Mihawk's hackles rose, "just to be clear: I'm the only one you challenge to a fight, understood?"

With that he just walked away, blurted out those words, and then turned around and left, accompanied by Nico Robin's quiet giggle. Heading to the bar to indulge in new alcohol, leaving Mihawk behind with this obvious threat.

"He cannot be serious," he grumbled, though he knew better.

"Oh, who knows," came directly from Nico Robin. "We both know how seriously he takes sword fighting."

She visibly enjoyed the fact that Roronoa had undermined his victory and Mihawk struggled for his composure, but after all, his voice did not betray him.

"You really think he meant sword fighting?"

"Why not?" She tilted her head. "But maybe not only. Apparently, he starts taking a liking to the ambiguity of words."

Perhaps it was a good thing that Roronoa was not a man of many words, Mihawk thought, blushing more and more. He did not know how many of these confessions his poor heart could bear. Especially not in her presence.

Then she took her papers off the table and held out the newspaper clipping to Mihawk.

"So?" she asked.

Nodding, he accepted it. "I will get you this book."

Now she grinned surprisingly broadly. "Then this marks my victory."

"Not at all, Nico Robin. Obviously, I won."

Out of nowhere, one of her many hands appeared with a second wine glass and a wine bottle of better quality. Then she placed an elbow on the table and laid an index finger on her chin as her hands filled their glasses.

"The weakness of every great warrior," she whispered seductively, "so eager to win your own battle that you lose sight of the war."

He also leaned forward and folded his hands. "Then let us clarify once and for all who is fighting the better wars. "

She smiled. "So chess? Or do we play a round of Mahjong like the adults?"

He recognized her trick and decided to play along.

"Well, if we are going to war, we should play Go, shouldn't we?"

She tilted her head slightly and it only took a blink of an eye for her hands to appear with the necessary utensils.

"It will be my pleasure to inflict a crushing defeat on you, Mihawk."

"The pleasure will be mine, Nico Robin."

She raised her glass. "Well then, let's toast to a fight."

"Didn't you mean to a fair fight?" He also raised his glass.

"Oh, no, I don't intend to play fair, after all, everything is fair in love and war."

They toasted while he thought for a moment about her words. Then he followed her gaze with quiet horror.

At the other end of the bar sat Roronoa and stared at him motionless over his broken beer barrel, his expression inexplicable, as so often. Then his captain called him over and he poured the beer down his throat, got up, and followed the loudly laughing Straw Hat into the back room of the small pub, without turning back to Mihawk even once.

"Oh, you are truly a devil," he laughed softly.

"I know, why do you think I enjoy to play with monsters."