Hey everybody,

today is somewhat special. As you can see there are two new chapters. It's the same scene but from two different peprspective, because, why not^^'
I'll be honest with you, when I first wrote those chapters, I felt so insecure about them, wasn't even sure, I should post them. But while translating I actually started to feel a little bit proud and now I really like them, so I hope you will as well!
You can chose whatever order suits you (I arranged in it alphabetical order)

Have fun

The first time

-Mihawk-

He exhaled deeply. An inner peace filled his body and mind that was so contradictory to all the thoughts in his head, that was so contradictory to all the energy in his body.

He had waited so long for this moment, could feel how unstoppable the greed was within him. As soon as he would give in, he would no longer be able to contain it, he knew that. He didn't want to trust too much in this silent hope that his painful training with the Red Shanks had really brought him back his absolute control. He had tested it many times and yet only the near future would show whether Mihawk had really been able to regain what he had lost over 30 years ago.

But none of that mattered in the end. Whether he would be able to control himself or not, today he would give in to his greed for the first time in so many years, and he was looking forward to it, by God, what was he awaiting the coming hours! It took so much energy and tension not to give in to this anticipation, this desire, but he couldn't just yet. He had to pull himself together!

Because if he didn't, then... he closed his eyes for a moment, ran his tongue along his teeth, but the sweet pain when the crowns of the teeth cut into the flesh was not enough this time.

It was in vain, no matter what Mihawk feared, he knew he would not be able to restrain himself; he did not want to restrain himself. As a swordsman and simply as himself, he wanted to fight the coming battle with all his strength, all his cruelty, all his being, no matter the price, no matter what it would cost. For too long he had been forced to wait, for far too long he had waited, waited for nothing else but this fight. Too often he had had to bury his greed over the past few years, denying himself the joy of fighting.

Mihawk had reached the end of his patience and today, when he would finally get the opportunity to fight in a way, he had not been able to do for decades – perhaps never before – and he would not be able to hold back, would not want to hold back. Today his mask would finally fall, no, not fall, unintentionally crashing on the ground. He would take it off, throw it to the ground, crush it. Today, after such a long time, Mihawk was finally allowed to show who he was, what he was, because finally there was someone who challenged him and who would hopefully also be a challenge.

He looked up.

Roronoa approached him with slow steps. His whole body pulsated under an energy that sent goosebumps down Mihawk's spine, and yet his gaze was absolutely calm.

"There you are at last, Roronoa," he greeted his challenger, who looked at him so incredibly calmly for a moment before he finally gave Mihawk that nasty grin he liked so much.

"Have I kept you waiting for long?" he asked with audacity as he stretched his head from side to side until bones cracked. Everything about him radiated strength and self-confidence, yet he seemed anything but arrogant. Everything about him was... perfect, he was the perfect challenger.

"Far too long," Mihawk replied quietly, feeling how hard it was for him to hold back, he finally wanted to fight, "I have been waiting for this day for over 20 years."

Now Roronoa almost laughed: "Well, it didn't take me that long to get ready."

For a moment they just looked at each other calmly, then Mihawk pushed away from his stone and bowed his head slightly. The greed within him was so great, they had to start the fight soon, he could not wait any longer.

"I would prefer if we could fight truly at once and just skip the playful banter," he said, but as much as he looked forward to this fight, longed for it like hardly anything else, he also feared what it would bring.

"I couldn't agree more, let's get serious right away!" Roronoa sounded almost like a little boy who was going to fight his very first fight. Well, in a way, that was true. It would be the first time Roronoa would fight such a fight and... perhaps that was also true for Mihawk.

While Roronoa simply tore off his ugly green coat and threw it to the ground, Mihawk took his time to put his things on the stone behind him in an orderly manner. It was a strange feeling, on the one hand he expected this fight like nothing before, but on the other hand he also feared what the consequences would be.

He was afraid of what would happen if Roronoa really saw him for all he was, his true self for once. Of course, Jiroushin was right, Roronoa was strong, he was brave, and if anyone could see Mihawk without fearing him, it was probably Roronoa. But what if even he was afraid of Mihawk?

The answer was quite simple. In such a case, he would have to learn to live with the fact that his companion would fear and perhaps even abandon him. Perhaps he was lucky and Roronoa would at least seek another fight with him – if he survived this fight – but even if not, all Mihawk had ever expected from Roronoa was honesty; honesty and that one fight that Roronoa had challenged him to years ago, when he had been nothing more than a weak boy from the East Blue.

It was true that Mihawk was afraid Roronoa would learn to fear him if he saw his true self, but at the same time he knew that even this fear could not stop him. He was a swordsman, it nurtured his blood, shaped his body, filled his soul.

No matter how much he loved Roronoa and how little he could lose him, this fear would not paralyze him, could not even influence him, let alone stop him. Because that, too, demanded his love and respect for Roronoa as a partner and as a swordsman. But he also demanded the same from himself for himself. If Mihawk would hold back, wouldn't take this fight seriously, wouldn't show his true self, what kind of swordsman would he be?

He wanted to fight Roronoa, he wanted to defeat him, no matter what the consequences would be, even if it meant Roronoa's death, and he knew Roronoa understood those feelings, after all, they were both swordsmen.

And yet... he feared life afterwards, after this battle, after this moment, when Roronoa would see his true self. But maybe he longed for it a bit, while he put his hat on his shirt and his greed begged him to finally break the chains. No matter what would happen after this fight, after so many years, he was finally allowed to fight properly once more.

"Mihawk?" Roronoa sounded serious, but he also had something warning in his voice, as if he could perceive Mihawk's inner struggle.

"Yes?" He concentrated on his hat, which he was still pressing on his shirt, but out of the corner of his eye he could see the haki vibrating with energy around his former student; He was ready.

"You know what you promised me?" Roronoa reminded him with a growl as he tied his bandana around his head with the utmost precision. "No restraint, no pretending, no mask."

Mihawk froze for a moment. So now it would begin. Once again, Roronoa challenged him to more than just a fight. So many times, he had urged Mihawk to stop pretending, to be honest, to not hold back, and at last, at last, Mihawk was able to comply with this desire. He only hoped that Roronoa was up to this challenge, that he could enjoy this desire, that he would not regret this demand.

"As you wish."

Mihawk closed his eyes and allowed the chains to burst.

It was as if a thousand-year-old weight fell from his shoulders and finally he was able to breathe freely again, move his body properly. As if he had emerged from the depths of the ocean, he could hear the world again as clearly as he had not known for years when he finally allowed himself to fully unleash his power.

And then he looked at Roronoa.

He did not know what he was expecting — even though he knew exactly what he feared — but once again, he could not read Roronoa's piercing gaze, which felt as if the other was staring right into his soul. But then there was a tension that ran through Roronoa's body when he realized it, when he finally saw Mihawk's true being.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked him, and it was a question he actually asked himself.

Roronoa had always wanted it, always demanded it of him, had always wanted to see behind Mihawk's mask. And sometimes he had succeeded, for moments when Mihawk had been careless or when he had underestimated Roronoa. But now he was no longer hiding and oh, what a tension. Was this what Roronoa had expected? Was it more? Was he more? Was it too much? Was he too much? How much could Roronoa withstand? How much could he endure? How much of Mihawk did he want?

His challenger drew his swords and got into position. It was impressive. To the ignorant spectator, it might seem as if Roronoa was in exactly the same position as when he first had challenged Mihawk. But Mihawk had corrected his weaknesses, incorporated all these subtleties into that posture, and by now Roronoa had perfected it; there was simply no gap in his defense.

Mihawk did the same, allowing his strength to flow freely while pulling Yoru and pointing it to the ground. Like this he stood there and welcomed Roronoa into the world of swordfighters.

But Roronoa just stared at him as if he was speechless. Had he gotten scared after all? Well then, then it should probably be like this. Mihawk only hoped that he would at least give him an interesting fight, and he hoped that he could leave his beloved little frog alive. It was all right, at least he could finally throw off his shackles, at least for that moment, Roronoa had already given him more than he had ever dared to hope for.

If only he would finally open the fight.

"What is the matter, Roronoa? Do you not want to attack me? Or are you really waiting for me to make the first move?" Maybe it had to be like this, maybe it had to be like this between them, that Mihawk was always the first to speak when Roronoa would or could not. That was fine, it was okay, at least now he would finally be able to fight.

"Mihawk."

"Yes?"

Would he now retread from the fight? No, even if he were to be afraid, this was Roronoa's grand dream, he would not back down, even if he were filled with fear. But maybe he could not offer more, could not offer him more than this fight. This fight, which Mihawk looked forward to more than anything. No matter what happened, Mihawk was happy, even if it was only this once.

For this fight, he was ready to lose everything, even Roronoa.

"I love you."

…

Oh.

This had to be a mis... No, Roronoa was serious. He simply looked at Mihawk the way he always looked at him as the energies pulsated around him. Now, of all times, he said such words, which for him had no meaning at all. Oh, he... he now understood the meaning. The meaning of these three words, so simple.

Mihawk closed his eyes and bowed his head.

He had feared, almost expected, that even Roronoa would shy away from him – would ultimately fear him – if he saw Mihawk's true nature. And now, of all times, now...

Almost trembling, he took a breath, then looked at Roronoa again, his Roronoa, his pursuer, his former student, his rival, his friend, his challenger, his companion, his opponent.

The blood burned in his veins like fire, as if Roronoa's words – three words so simple – had burst the walls of the castle courtyard and finally, at last, Mihawk was truly free.

Very slowly, he nodded.

And Roronoa attacked.