The end of an era

-Zoro–

"Argh…"

He grabbed his left forearm as skin and muscles ripped apart, blood and flesh splashed to the ground, pressing his elbow against the aching side. Fuck, his body hurt like hell. Grinning, he rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, tried in vain to wipe off the blood, but just spread it.

Then he tightened his grip around Wado-Ichi-Monji. What a fight!

Behind him, he could hear a heavy grunt. Damn, so it still wasn't enough? This bastard still didn't have enough?

That had been Zoro's best attack. He had no more strength left, his haki reserves were exhausted, he had only one sword left, the others were somewhere behind him. He had put everything that was left in him into this last attack and yet it was not enough? Still not enough?

So why was he grinning like that? Why did he enjoy it so much, even though it meant he still wasn't ready? That in spite of everything, he was still not enough? He had been so sure that he...

Breathing heavily, Zoro spat blood to the ground and tilted his head slightly. He would still be able to withstand one attack, maybe two, he hoped. It had been a gamble from the beginning, and no one could have known in advance how it would end. Moreover, the battle was not over, Zoro was still standing, he still had a weapon, and if he concentrated, if he acted wisely, if he was fast enough and used his remaining haki correctly, then he would still be able to direct the coming attack against his opponent. Well, that were quite a few ifs, but that wouldn't stop him. It had never stopped him, because no matter what happened, he couldn't stop grinning.

It hurt to raise his head, his shoulders were cramped, but held the correct position. Slowly, he turned around. Seven or eight steps away stood Mihawk, the pale skin of his spotless back almost blinding Zoro in the bright light of the midday sun. There was blood at his feet as well, and his shoulders also rose and fell with exertion. But he was still standing, still holding Yoru.

If Zoro could, he would take advantage of this moment, but his legs were about to fail him, his feet already struggling for balance. He closed his eyes for a breath, calmed his heartbeat, sharpened his senses. He had to be prepared for the next attack. His opponent was also exhausted, had to be close to his limits and therefore his next attack would probably be...

Mihawk turned presumptuously elegantly, his chin slightly raised, sweat and blood sliding down his temple, and his sharp gaze was on Zoro. He was breathing heavily, and every movement seemed deliberate, yet he showed a demonic grin that Zoro had never seen before this fight, and he wanted to see it again so many times. He wanted Mihawk to look at him like this as often as possible. But more than that, Zoro wanted to finally defeat him, even if this really seemed an impossibility. Damn bastard!

Said bastard observed him. Just as Zoro had done with him, he seemed to be estimating how much Zoro could still take, and the truth was, not much. But Zoro didn't have to show that to his opponent, just as Mihawk didn't want to show him any weakness, still hardly showed any weakness. Slowly, he lifted Yoru in front of the blood-soaked chest and Zoro braced himself. How could this bastard even stand after this attack?

Zoro tensed his muscles, bent his knees a little as Mihawk took a step towards him, and almost surprised, they both paused. Yoru rattled to the ground, had simply slipped out of his hands. They looked at each other for another second and then Mihawk also fell, tipped over backwards, and even that with such elegance that Zoro wanted to throw up.

Was it a feint? Even now, did he still have the energy to fool Zoro?

He could hear the blood pulsating in his ears as he took a few steps forward, exerting his last strength. Reaching Yoru, he considered kicking it away, but his legs quickly made it clear to him that this would be a bad idea.

At last, he stood next to the best swordsman in the world, who lay there breathing heavily, his eyes, narrowed into slits with exertion, meeting his gaze. Zoro could see him trying to tighten his muscles to straighten up, but he couldn't, and then Mihawk's breathing calmed, a soft smile playing around his cracked lips.

Zoro stood over him and raised his sword, his whole body tense, cramped, just waiting for the other to attack him. But he didn't. Not even when Zoro's weapon came down, he didn't move a bit, didn't even flinch, and then Wado-Ichi-Monji dug into the bloody earth, to Mihawk's right, and a second later those piercing eyes fell shut.

He waited, waited for the moment, for the hidden attack, the secret tactic, but nothing happened. Mihawk lay there on the ground, his eyes closed, breathing calmly, and not moving, and very slowly it dawned on Zoro.

It had not been like when Mihawk had defeated him in one fell swoop, no big words, no significant gestures, no impressive spectacle. It had been a simple fight, in its purest form, as simple and natural as Zoro had never fought in his life.

And now this battle was over.

He trembled. His whole body trembled, and his knees wanted to give way. He took a deep breath, looked down at his opponent's calm face, and then raised his arm.

Suddenly, there were loud voices, cheers, roars, and it was as if he was rising from the deep sea. Slowly he looked up, looked over at the ship where they all were, and then he saw him, saw his grin, and for a moment the world seemed to stop. Then his legs gave way.

His whole body trembled, shivering he knelt beside the... next to Mihawk. Why was he shaking like that? Was it exhaustion? Or was it...?

"Well done... Roronoa."

Surprised, he looked down at Mihawk, who was looking at him with half-open eyes, a gentle smile on his lips as blood dripped down his beard.

"I knew... that you were worth it."

His eyes closed, he had obviously lost consciousness.

Zoro didn't know how long he was sitting there for. He was supposed to get up, square his shoulders proudly, stretch his arms to the sky, but he simply lacked the strength and the idea to do so.

Suddenly there were hands, he could hear voices, many, but exhaustion caught up with him and he did not understand them. Some of them were loud and urgent, but all he saw was this grin.

"Shishihi, don't make such a fuss, Chopper. He just needs some sleep, right?"

His body stopped shaking as he sank against the strong arms and closed his eyes.

"Aye, Captain, just let me get some sleep."

He was warm and the pain was far away as he fell asleep to the soothing, strong heartbeat at his ear.

When he woke up, he felt the pain. He lay there in the darkness, looking up at the wooden ceiling without seeing it.

In his mind's eye, he kept seeing Mihawk lying on the ground, that look Zoro had never seen before, and he felt his battered muscles begin to twitch.

"Well, good morning."

Slowly, he looked to the side. The moonlight through the hatch was caught in the darkness on familiar straw, making it look almost silver. The eyes under the brim of the hat sparkled and a broad grin greeted him.

"How long did I sleep?" Zoro muttered.

"Not long, you just missed dinner," his Captain explained helpfully.

Smiling, Zoro wanted to sit up, but it hurt. He grunted softly. Then he felt strong hands and allowed Luffy to help him lean against the hard wood in his back.

For a long time, they just looked at each other, Luffy grinning widely, while Zoro didn't even know what he felt. He was thankful that he was in Usopp's workshop, because that meant that Mihawk was in the sick bay. Chopper, of course, had also refurbished Usopp's workshop to meet his professional standards, but if Zoro was here, it meant that his former...

"Thank you, Luffy," he whispered, knowing that the Captain had made this decision, probably even to the displeasure of some crewmembers.

"Shishishi, no problem," he laughed softly.

"Where are my swords?" he then asked, realizing that they were not with him.

"Cabin," Luffy replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Brook said it was important to take good care of them, and since you two were unconscious..."

"Who cleaned them?" Zoro was a little surprised, even more worried. Not every one of his swords was allowed to get into the hands of novice and Yoru was a completely different caliber. He knew that Usopp had cleaned his swords after Zoro had left them after the G-6, and of course Brook was right, but still, Zoro didn't like it.

"Usopp. He said he knew exactly how you always take care of your swords, and they wouldn't hurt him," Luffy said lightly and even Zoro didn't know how serious he meant those words, but that didn't matter either.

"Mihawk won't be happy about that," Zoro grumbled softly, but that wasn't really what he wanted to say, and his discomfort didn't really have anything to do with the fact that Usopp had taken care of his swords; he trusted Usopp and knew that he would have done well.

"Zoro?"

He looked up and met Luffy's gaze.

"Are you ready for a party?"

Why did Luffy ask him that?

But the next moment, he knew why.

"No, not yet," he replied softly. "Before that, I have to check something."

Still Luffy grinned at him, then he nodded and stood up.

"Okay, all right. I'm going up now, it's been a long day. Good night, Zoro."

"Night, Luffy."

Without turning around, he left, leaving Zoro in the darkness.

For a few minutes he looked down at his bandaged fingers, then he had gathered enough strength and finally he threw away the cover and stood on his wobbly legs.

Not everything was okay yet, his chest was still much too tight and in order to change that, he had to know something beforehand. So, he climbed the ladder and walked across the clammy grass towards the sick bay.