"But I don't need to go to school, Dad. I already know who the president is."
Mihawk didn't think that telling Zoro that there was more to school than knowing which still asshole controlled the powers of their country was called for right now. Firstly, that was not appropriate language to say in front of any child, and secondly, it wasn't even the point. The point was that children needed to go to school to learn, develop, and socialize. Mihawk read that structure was an important part of a child's life, and God knew that he tried to provide the best he could in that sense, despite his many failings with it. Just this morning, he slept a whopping 21 minutes past the 6:30 alarm he set the night before and as a result, had to rush himself, his daughter Perona, and his son Zoro through their morning's the first day of school. You can't be late. You sounded like an angry, depressing mantra through his head as he bit his tongue against telling the kids to all but choke down the cheese omelet and toast that he hastily made so they could drive to school.
Mihawk took a moment to steel himself and give Zoro a pep talk. He patiently knelt in front of the child and tried to tie his shoelaces with the shaking fingers his anxiety brought on. "Well, little boy, you might know two presidents when you come home from class. It's going to be great. You meet all sorts of kids and adults and you're going to learn so much. But you remember what I said about talking to and going with adults you don't know, right?"
Zoro nodded solemnly. He was deathly terrified of getting abducted now that he knew what it was. Mihawk had time to consider that it was probably a bad idea to traumatize his son with all that scary talk of strangers and kidnappings, but he only had three minutes to get them through the door and into the car. "Good. But you'll be great, Zoro. You'll be more than great. You're gonna love it there, then you can tell me all about it when I pick you up, yes?"
Zoro nodded again, smiling tentatively now. He shouldered his frog-themed backpack with the solemnness of someone going to war. Still rattled, and now sad for his son to go with it, Mihawk tamped down on the emotions that threatened to disarm him. "Perona! Let's go, please."
"Don't yell at me, I've been here the whole time!" Perona said, seeming to materialize by Mihawk's hip. "I don't want to be late today." She offered Mihawk her hand, and with Zoro clinging to the belt holes of his pants, Mihawk tried to lock the front door and usher the kids to the car.
It was odd how he felt proud, eager, and anxious as he bucked Perona and Zoro into their car seats. Just months ago their whole lives were in turmoil when Crocodile decided he wanted nothing more to do with this family, but now the children seemed settled into healing. Nearly teary, Mihawk got behind the wheel and tried to tamp down the deluge of emotions that threatened to drown him.
By some miracle, Mihawk managed to park just 10 minutes before the school bell rang. It was easy enough to shuffle Perona and Zoro to the pre-school, but it was not as easy as watching the small children walk in with their teacher, waving to goodbye him tentatively. If Mihawk thought too hard about the scared look in Zoro's eyes or the downturn of Perona's lips, he was afraid he'd storm into the school and snatch them back and just keep them at home with him. Since he wanted to be a responsible parent, he slunk back to his car, a smart SUV that he'd traded his coupe in for, now decorated with cartoon animal stickers and two car seats, a safe place to mope now that he had the time.
And mope he did, with some added blues crooning from his radio, his head rested against the steering wheel, and a panic attack of sorts clogging up every passage in his chest.
Christ, what had he gotten himself into? There was something so terrifying about the way Zoro and Perona looked at him like they knew that there was no one else to depend on but Mihawk, the one father they had left.
Mihawk had been happily coupled with Crocodile for over a decade and it would have stayed that way if only Mihawk hadn't felt the stirrings for children in his home. Crocodile had been against it from the start, and in no uncertain terms made it clear to Mihawk that he would not be a willing participant. Mihawk never knew himself ever to be threatened into submission, especially when he already set his mind to go to the initial consult with the adoption agency. Until the very day of his counseling sign-up, Crocodile had argued that Mihawk shouldn't even consider something so drastic. There were phases in Mihawk's life where he tended to be impulsive and Crocodile assumed this was just one of them. He still held on to that notion after months of mandatory counseling. Reluctantly, Crocodile had come crawling back and easing his resolve.
"I don't agree with you. I don't think I ever will, but I don't want to lose what we have," Crocodile said.
"And what more we could have," Mihawk added. "I wish you would understand it better. I finally feel like I have the capacity to do this. And I've wanted this since before I knew you. That was never a secret."
It should have been alarming to Mihawk back then that instead of arguing back, Crocodile had just conceded to avoid another long-winded disagreement. Did it even matter to him that this adoption process seemed to challenge Mihawk to be a better person? Did it even matter to him that to Mihawk, nothing had ever felt as right as reading the file of two children who had been placed in a home together, adopted together, then after a handful of months, returned to the orphanage together? Mihawk had never been so sure of anything: these children belonged with him.
There had been a tense look on Crocodile's face when he found out that his partner was adopting two children when the plan had just been one. Mihawk could see him just going through the motions to accept the kids into their home to placate Mihawk, and were he a wiser man, Mihawk would have taken issue with the way Crocodile was just tolerating his children because, what, he didn't want to break up? But wise, he was not. Maybe a big part of him was perfectly fine keeping Crocodile around so they could play happy family.
For a while, it probably was a believable play-act. For a while, Mihawk could even say that Crocodile had been good for their family because while his daughter, Perona, easily warmed, his son, Zoro, took some time to thaw. Zoro only started coming out of his shell when Crocodile taught him how to grow shitake mushrooms in his rooftop garden. Then, they started laughing together and seemed to have a special bond, even if Crocodile would not like to admit it. For a while, things were genuinely good. It felt like everything Mihawk ever wanted.
Which was why it came as such a surprise when Crocodile just up and left. Like some suburban cliche, he'd packed up his half of the closet and bolted while Mihawk was at the pediatrician with the kids. The pithy note he'd left only wroteI can't do this anymore. We can talk alone if you're ready. I'm went about the day mechanically, carefully dodging the children's questions about where their other dad was, but soon enough, he had no choice but to be honest with them. It turned out that Mihawk never felt ready to talk to him. Efficiently, he had boxed up anything Crocodile had left behind and even some items they shared possession of and sent it out to be delivered to his office. No, he had no inclination to hash things out with Crocodile. He could rot in hell for all Mihawk cared.
In under a year, Mihawk and the kids moved into a brand-new house in a nicer school district. Perona seemed to completely forget that Crocodile had existed, but Zoro had backed into his shell a little bit after that. Not completely shut out like he was initially, but Mihawk still noticed how Crocodile's absence hurt him. He still tended to the logs of shitake spores he kept in a humid drum beside the garden nursery as some sort of ode to the absent father.
It was all still too much to process for Mihawk, even months later. He was a walking nerve these days, petrified about fucking these hapless children's lives because he was so unsuited to be a parental figure in the first place. He'd barely been able to take care of them when Crocodile was there to help out, and now he had to be on guard 24/7 to keep them alive, like not giving them the grapes they'd had last night because those were choking hazards.
"Mihawk, you've really done it now." He could hear the plip plop of his tears hitting the steering wheel.
But he was always quick to snap out of his pity parties. Mihawk rubbed his palms on his face and decided just like that, that it was done. He dodged a bullet when Crocodile did him the courtesy of abandoning them, and all that was left to do was just do his best and not sweat the small stuff so much. So far, Zoro and Perona were alive and they were happy despite the situation. Mihawk mused as he set the car into drive, that had to count for something.
"Dad, you are eating on the couch." Mihawk turned his gaze away from the television to see his daughter pointing a pudgy, accusatory finger at him. Zoro stood behind her, a butterfly net in his hands. "You said we couldn't eat on the couch."
It was a Saturday, and it had been relatively quiet until now. As was their habit, Mihawk had been awakened by the kids barging into his unlocked bedroom and turned his television on full blast. Mihawk brushed his teeth and styled his hair to the sounds of his kids stomping around and singing to The Wiggles. Now they were parked in the den, still in pajamas but presentable.
"I said you and Zoro couldn't eat on the couch. I'm allowed because I'm an adult."
"How come?"
"You two spill and crumb. Isn't that why you two have that play table with the colorful chairs?" It had been custom resin in a deep amber and red, shaped like a blob of molten lava. It had cost an obscene amount of money and then after 2 weeks of using it, the children decided that they wanted to eat on the floor, on the big table, and now, on the couch. Anywhere but that table. It was a normal aspect of parenthood that just drove Mihawk insane. The moment the kids begged him to buy something in bulk, they immediately decided they were sick of it. It was a damn good thing he had money to burn through, and that he loved to spoil them.
"But that's not fair!" Perona screeched. She felt everything so deeply, so some minor annoyance like this would send her into a little rage. Meanwhile, Zoro was already wandering off, already disinterested in the cause that his sister rallied him into.
"Nothing in life is fair, my sweet. Come, we can sit at the play table together. You can host us for a tea party again." Mihawk rose, deciding that snacks on the couch in front of Desperate Housewives were not worth a potential meltdown. He began to lead the kids out of the den.
"Not me. I have things to do," Zoro said.
"Such as?"
"I dunno. I have to catch a monster. I'm gonna train it to defend our house." He shrugged, the net in his hands jerking with the motion.
"There is no such thing as monsters, you stupid jerk!" Perona cried, still worked up.
"Perona, do not talk to your brother that way." When Perona opened her mouth to retort, Mihawk beat her to it. "I mean it. There are nicer ways to ask him to play with us. Apologize."
Perona stood by the couch, unmoving, seeming to go a shade of red deeper every second. "You always take his side. You always hate me and I didn't do anything wrong."
Now, the onset of tears made way for the star of the show: a mid-afternoon meltdown. Perona brushed the cartoon ghost doll against her eyes as she wailed.
"I don't hate you, Perona. But you can't go around calling your brother names. That's not how family is." Feeling exhausted by the quick spike of emotions, Mihawk sat cross-legged on the floor to be at eye level with his daughter. "Come on. We can do something else that you two agree on."
Zoro shuffled beside him. "We can play tea party. I can find monsters later."
"Okay, I'm sorry. You're not a stupid jerk." Perona sniffled, still blubbering. But she nodded and took her father's hand and let him lead her and Zoro to the play table. The meltdown was over as swiftly as it started. Last night's tea party was still set up, so it saved Mihawk the trouble of hunting down every piece of the set that Perona insisted was laid out for the ceremony.
"Would you like some tea, Zoro?" Perona asked, bravely trying to move past her tears but still shuddering and hiccupping from how loudly she had cried.
Her face was still splotchy and her lips still quivered. Zoro decided to play nice even though she was such an ugly crier and he wanted to laugh. "Sure." When Perona pretended to pour from the empty teapot, Zoro sighed. Of course, there wasn't actually any tea. He should have learned that by now. Zoro tried not to look disappointed when he pretended to sip.
On the comically small chair beside him, Mihawk gave him a small smile that felt like a thank you.
Crisis averted—a good day.
A bad day.
True to where most of his mental breakdowns happened these days, Mihawk sat in his car, breathing shallowly and loudly through his nose as he tried to edge out of the freeway. It was five minutes past pickup, and he would be heinously late by the time he got there. It was just a few weeks into the new school year and already he was having a major fuck up.
Sure, it wasn't his fault that a chunk of the highway was jammed from an eight-car pile-up, and with all the emergency response vehicles, there really was no choice but to sit tight and wait for Highway Patrol to sort out the mess. Mihawk drummed his fingers impatiently against his steering wheel, willing himself to breathe slower lest he work himself up into a panic. By the time he made the turn into an exit, he barely battled the urge to speed like a madman. He imagined Zoro and Perona all alone on the steps of the preschool, hungry and cold. Zoro always forgot his gloves and scarf and Perona was always losing hers. They would be cold, and they would hate him. They'd be hungry, too. Maybe they'd be abducted by the kidnappers Zoro feared so much by now.
Ah,Mihawk . Stop thinking.
He made it to the driveway of the school after some thirty minutes. He probably didn't even put his vehicle into park before he sprinted out. He saw Zoro and Perona seated on the very steps he imagined them on, but thankfully they were with their teacher who he'd only a handful of times after Welcome Day, watching him do some sort of craft. Mihawk called out to them despite the acrid air in his lungs.
Perona instantly brightened when she saw him. "Dad, hi! Over here! See, I told you he's coming," She said to her brother. "Dad, did you know Zoro said that you weren't coming back and that we had to go back to the orphanage? I told him you wouldn't do that, but he said so."
Mihawk felt the acute sting of that. There would be ample time to inspect that later when the kids were put to bed and he could cry in his bath. Instead of letting his hurt show over his face, Mihawk attempted a reassuring smile that was watery at best. "I'm so sorry for being late. There was a pileup on the highway and we were redirected."
Now, the teacher cleared his throat. He rose with an exaggerated grunt. The tail of the knotted sleeve of his left arm billows in the gentle breeze. "Don't worry about it. We were learning how to fold some origami." He could see Mihawk's shaky disposition and felt his sympathy surge. "Kids, why don't you get your shoes so your dad and I can talk?"
Mihawk tried for a more fortified smile as they made their way back inside to take their shoes and their bags from their cubbies. Shanks watched Mihawk's eyes gloss over.
"It's okay, I'm sure you couldn't do anything about it," Shanks offered in consolation.
Mihawk shook his head. "My phone died so I couldn't even call on the way. Not even a phone charger in the car, in today's day and age. But I should have been here. They're already having a hard time adjusting to the new schedule and I can't keep letting them down. Did you know they were adopted and then surrendered to the orphanage again? Who does that? I don't know why Zoro would think I'd do that, but that's from my own failings." Because it seemed much deeper than a late pickup, Shanks put a comforting hand on Mihawk's shoulder, which Mihawk sidestepped from. "Don't. I don't want the kids to see me a mess."
Shanks took his hand back. "Kids are very empathic. I'm sure they know you didn't mean to be late."
Mihawk shook his head didn't,he thought. He didn't say as much because it would scratch his throat raw and already his children were rushing out to cling to his hands, probably eager to get home to eat. "Thank you for staying with them, Mr. Akagami. It absolutely won't happen again."
It was Shanks' turn to smile at him, bolstering and kind. Mihawk thought that along with crying about his failings as a parent, he would have to dwell on why Mr. Akagami's smile sent his pulse into a tiny little gallop.
"Don't worry about it. We had fun doing some origami anyway."
"That didn't look like a rose at all, Mr. Akagami," Perona remarked.
"Ah, well. I have one hand to fold with, little girl. Give me a break." Laughter barked out of him, and it not only made the children giggle, but Mihawk found his lips twitch into a smile too. Encouraged, Shanks gave MIhawk the mangled origami paper that was supposed to be a rose. Perona was right, it looked nothing like one. "See you kids tomorrow. And you too at drop off and pick up, Mihawk."
Shanks waved at them as they buckled into the car. On the ride back to the house, while Perona babbled a hundred miles an hour about her day, Mihawk momentarily forgot about what a shitty father he was, and in its stead, he thought about the paper rose that he would keep on his nightstand, and that he liked the way Shanks said his name, happy and sweet.
One Friday, the children were unable to come to school. Mihawk had woken up with a high fever and body pain. If he had to guess, it was probably from all the work he was doing lately, professionally and personally. It was an understatement to say that raising two five-year-olds while maintaining a high-powered career was tough, and it was bound to catch up with his health sooner or later. Sooner or later was now, and because of his pig-headedness, Mihawk was now too weak to even get up and relieve his bladder. Not that he could, since he hadn't had anything to drink since his glass of wine during dinner last night, so he probably was dehydrated as well.
Without anyone to wake them, Perona and Zoro woke each other up an hour before noon. After the initial joy of thinking their father forgot that today was a school day, they became worried when they didn't see Mihawk up and about like he usually was. His bedroom door was always unlocked, and they were always welcome, so they let themselves in and found him still in bed. Odd.
"Daddy, you didn't wake us up," Perona said simply. When Mihawk didn't so much as stir, she looked to her brother worriedly. "Dad?"
"Is he dead?" Zoro asked. He'd never seen Mihawk sleep in. Not even the few times he tried to sneak downstairs to play when he thought everyone was asleep. Mihawk had been on his little computer speaking to someone in a language that Zoro didn't understand. Zoro remembered that Mihawk had caught him creeping down the stairs, then softly gestured him over. He let Zoro watch him in a conference with some client managers in Europe and even let him poke his head in the video to wave goodbye once the call was over. After that Mihawk had made him some cocoa and did not go easy on Zoro on the one round of Street Fighter he allowed before putting him back to bed. It was a special night that Zoro wouldn't forget any time soon. He'd be sad if Mihawk was dead.
"I'm not dead. Just sick." Mihawk grumbled as he turned to face the kids. He looked paler than usual, and he was sweating. Zoro didn't think he'd ever seen his father sweat, too.
"Do you need an ambulance?" Zoro asked seriously.
"No, it's just a fever. I'll be okay with some rest. I'm sorry I couldn't take you to school. I know you guys had the fingerpainting activity today."
"What do we do to heal you?" Perona asked. Her voice was already shaking. Mihawk didn't need to see her to know that frightened tears were already making her eyes red and wet.
"I'll be okay. I do need you to call Uncle Buggy so he can look after you while I'm sick. Perona, do you remember how to use my phone to call him?" In a herculean show of strength he didn't have, Mihawk pushed himself up so he could sit against the headboard.
"I can do that. Do you want something to eat?" Perona sniffled again. Her bottom lip was trembling. Mihawk would have chuckled if he didn't feel he was about to pass away.
"Some water would be good. Can you and Zoro find something to eat until Uncle Buggy comes? You can stay here with me so I can keep an eye on you."
"Okay."
Mihawk didn't know when he drifted off into a sleep sitting up. It was so easy to just succumb to his exhaustion. A few minutes or hours later, he was awoken again. Perona sat by his knee, presenting to him a glass of water and some mysterious soup in a bowl.
"Thank you, darling. You didn't have to heat the leftovers. I don't want you to scald yourself." Mihawk weakly took the water and drank, then replaced it with the soup.
His eyes had to work extra hard to identify what exactly it was. This was not the minestrone he made last night.
"It's ice cream soup." Perona provided. Unspoken: obviously.
"Silly me. Of course, it is. Thank you." Because he didn't think he could stomach ice cream soup or any soup right now, Mihawk tried to distract his daughter. "Where is your brother?"
"I told him to call Uncle Buggy. I was busy cooking. Are you gonna be okay?"
Mihawk tried to imagine Perona balanced on the bear-themed step ladder to reach the tub of ice cream in the sub-zero, scooping some out with difficulty, then putting it in front of the fan to melt before bringing it to him. That was always how she ate her ice cream. Mihawk felt a surge of affection.
"I will be. Then we can go to the park again and you can take photos of the ducks for your art project, right?"
"Okay. Can I stay here with you? I'll be quiet so you can sleep." Perona was already pushing the covers over her legs so she could settle into the pillows beside him.
"Always. Make sure your brother stays here with us until Uncle Buggy comes, okay?"
Again, he drifted off to sleep.
He woke up again when he heard a knock on his door. Perona startled up beside him, tossing her iPad onto the bed to open the door.
It must be Buggy. Finally.
It was not Buggy. The first thing that Mihawk saw was red, a head full of wavy red hair on top of a disarming face, bags of food in hand. Shanks sheepishly stepped into the bedroom, Zoro trailing behind him. Mihawk thought that if he had the energy, he would draw the covers up over his clothed chest, sweat-damp and wrinkled from tossing and turning.
"Mr Akagami. What's wrong? Is there an emergency?"
Shanks smiled, sheepishly. "I think you can call me Shanks in your own home. Nothing's wrong. Zoro called me. He said you were sick and if I could bring some food." Shanks regarded Mihawk's state. He was always so perfectly done up so seeing him like this, a sick mess of exhaustion and burnout, well, it was new. He came up to Mihawk's bed, dragging up an antique ladderback chair to be able to sit by him. "You look pretty bad. Do you need a doctor?"
"I'm fine. I already took some flu medicine. I'm sorry Zoro called you. He was supposed to call his uncle." Mihawk rasped.
Zoro, already pawing through the takeout with his sister, piped up. "I don't like that guy. He smiles too much."
"Be nice," Mihawk reminded him. "In any case, I don't want to trouble you. I'm sure you have lots to do. I can pay you back for the food," he said to Shanks.
Shanks shrugged. "Don't worry about any of that. I came right after classes ended so I don't really have anything to do for the rest of today. I can stay and keep the kids entertained for a few hours." Before Mihawk could refuse, Shanks was already shaking his head. "Take the help, Mihawk. You could use the rest."
Stunned, as it was always so easy for Shanks to stun him with his easy grace and warmth, Mihawk nodded. If he felt any better, he probably would have insisted on Shanks going home. "Then please accept my gratitude. I haven't fed them all day. You keep seeing me have these terrible parenting moments." Mihawk closed his eyes, exhausted beyond compare, and now a little guilty. "It's really not good for my ego."
Shanks laughed, carefree and surprised. Mihawk felt his damp mood lighten. "Perhaps your ego can take a little beating since you don't ever need to have one with me. You're a great dad. If you don't believe me, just ask your kids. Their opinions are really the only ones that should matter." Groaning a little as he got up, Shanks gave Mihawk's knee an affable pat. "Get some rest. I'll wake you up when I can't figure something out. Kids, let's take that downstairs and eat like a civilized society. Oh, and Mihawk? It's cute that you kept the origami, but I think that isn't my best work."
Mihawk stared doubly hard at Shank's teasing grin. It took all the power left in him to fight down the flush that threatened to set his face aflame. Without much bite, he said, "You're terrible. Get out of my room."
Shanks laughed again, before heralding Zoro and Perona out of their father's room, tubs of Chinese food in their pudgy hands.
It was almost 8 PM when Mihawk woke again. His muscles still ached some, a dull song reverberating deep in his bones and up to his throbbing head, but it was better than what he felt just a few hours earlier. Undisturbed sleep and a chance to sweat his sick out was exactly what he needed, and he planned to do another round of that after sending his handsome babysitter home and putting his children to bed.
Mihawk felt heinous having missed out on a whole day with Perona and Zoro, never mind that he'd been sick. Shanks coming to the rescue had been a godsend, but now that Mihawk wasn't in the clutches of illness, all the dread about the situation was coming down on him. He was pretty sure Shanks wouldn't have robbed him blind and made off with his kids, but then again, it was probably foolish to blindly trust a man he didn't really know outside of how sexy he was and how good he was with children. Maybe.
It was an effort to not let his anxiety spiral as he slowly climbed down the stairs. There was noise coming from the kitchen, so he followed it.
He found Shanks ladling stew into bowls. Zoro was hitting a training pell with his plastic broadsword, asking Shanks if he was watching him. Perona was belly down on the floor, cutting fabric to make into teru teru bōzu. Shanks saw Mihawk first, and flashed him another one of those winning smiles, as if Mihawk was the only person in the world he'd be happy to see.
"Mr. Shanks, you're not paying attention to me!" Zoro cried as he put his fists on his waist, sword dangling by his leg.
"Sorry, little man. Your dad is awake." Shanks said, still holding Mihawk's gaze. Since that look made something beastly stir in Mihawk's belly, he broke eye contact to smile weakly at his son and daughter scrambling up to grab his legs in a hug. Adorable. It was enough to distract Mihawk from the pitter-patter of his heart. His children began speaking over each other, trying to catch their father up to their busy day. It was always the best part of Mihawk's day, to listen to the kids excitedly regale him with their new discoveries and thoughts.
"Are you feeling better? I can do a new sword trick. We saw it on TV with Mr. Shanks. Do you want to see it?"
"Did the ice cream soup make you feel better? It did, huh? I knew it would. It's the best thing ever."
"Can we go on a boat ride? Not right now, but some other day. A big yacht, like the one on TV."
"I found a skink in the garden a while ago but Mr. Shanks said we shouldn't catch it. Can I have a pet lizard?"
"Did you know Mr. Shanks can juggle even though he only has one hand? I spelled amputation a while ago, Mr. Shanks helped me. But I forgot now. How do you spell amputation? I'm not rude, Perona. Mr. Shanks said amputation isn't a bad word. Noyou'restupid."
Mihawk sighed. He rolled his eyes playfully at Shanks. "I told you guys to stop calling each other names, didn't I?"
"Sorry," both kids said automatically.
"Why don't you guys sit down, so we can feed your dad? He needs to eat and take more medicine." Shanks held two rimmed soup bowls with one hand and set it on the breakfast nook. There was already a basket of crunchy, fragrant bread and utensils set.
Mihawk slid onto the U-shaped bench opposite Shanks and was just a bit mortified when the kids squeezed in and forced him to slide closer to Shanks. He willed himself to relax. He wasn't a teenager, so he ought to stop acting like one. He cleared his throat. "This smells great. Thank you, Shanks."
"You're welcome."
They began to eat, comfortable in the companionship and the noise from the children's bickering. Mihawk remembered the last time he thought he felt this way when he was still playing house with Crocodile, and he told himself this was what it felt like to have it all. What a bust that had been, huh?
He was snapped out of his reverie when Shanks good-naturedly bumped his shoulder with his. "Eat before it gets cold."
So Mihawk did, trying not to think too far ahead about anything and nothing. He found it wasn't even hard to just be in the present when it was like this.
On Monday, Mihawk was back in fighting form. The kids, full of energy after a whole weekend trapped in the house with their recovering father, were excited to go to school and see their friends. Mihawk went through the motions of unbuckling them from their car seats and giving them their backpacks and lunch bags, taking their hands, and walking up to the lobby with them. Dependable as always, Mr. Shanks was at the door to greet everyone. Mihawk steeled himself against the nervous, excited flutter in his gut when Shanks saw him and gave him that awfully cute, boyish smile again.
"Good morning, Zoro, Perona. Hello, Mihawk. Are you feeling better?"
"My ice cream soup cured him. Are we watching the butterflies on TV again?" Perona demanded.
"Maybe, if you guys are good today. Zoro, did you put back those cans of soup you made into a city?"
"Yes. After I smacked them down with my sword."
"Awesome. You guys go on in. You know the drill." Shanks ruffled their heads, making Zoro grin and Perona squawk in indignation. Shanks turned back to Mihawk.
"I really can't thank you enough for the help last Friday," Mihawk began. "Please let me know how I can repay you."
"You don't repay favors from friends. Don't worry about it."
"Are we friends?" Mihawk wondered aloud.
"Aren't we? If you're that pressed to return the favor, how about you ask me out to dinner? I like seafood or Thai." Shanks suggested casually.
Mihawk was dumbfounded for a fraction of a second. This was flirting. He wasn't stupid. "I'd like that. I come with some baggage. My ex walked out on me and the kids a year ago." He shrugged, swallowing shame and something else that was bitter in the back of his throat. "It doesn't mean anything to me anymore, but it's still something I'm dealing with, especially with Zoro. So I'm not going to pretend it's nothing."
"You're good at that," Shanks remarked. "At intriguing me. I mean that respectfully. It doesn't bother me, but I'd like to know that about you. I'd like to know everything about you, and I'd like to tell you about me. Ergo, dinner."
Like a stunned, cornered animal, Mihawk nodded. "I can get a sitter on Saturday. I'll text you the details."
"Great. I'll pick you up." Seeing how visibly confounded Mihawk was, Shanks grinned. "It's like pulling teeth, isn't it? Dates are fun but they're awkward in the beginning. Glad we survived. See you at pickup, Mihawk." Shanks winked, then turned to go back inside.
In a daze, Mihawk walked back to his car. He dropped his children off at school and somehow went home with a date with their teacher on his calendar.
Saturday came in no time. In the days leading up to it, Shanks and Mihawk allowed tiny attempts at flirting in between their parent-teacher interactions during drop-off and pickup. Aside from that, there were a lot of innocent, playful texts. Mihawk didn't think he ever experienced a text chain making him smile to himself in the middle of a workday. Once he opened a message from Shanks during a conference and he had to clear his throat so he wouldn't simper like a little girl in front of his peers over a corny joke Shanks sent.
They agreed that Shanks would pick up Mihawk at 7 to make their 7:30 reservation at Baratie. He was promptly at the door at that time, which Mihawk appreciated. Dressed in black slacks and a burgundy dress shirt, he opened the door to Shanks, out of his cheerful teacher attire and nicely done up in a classic two-piece suit.
"Wow, I'd say you clean up nicely, but you made rumpled pajamas and bedhead look sophisticated too." Shanks commented. "I didn't think you were the flowers type of guy, so I made a replacement for the sad paper rose on your nightstand." Shanks presented a small, better-crafted origami rose. Mihawk didn't intend on throwing out the older one but would keep it with this one.
"You're delightful. Thank you." Mihawk took it and placed it on the entry table. "The kids are supposed to be in bed but I should warn you, they're peeping through the banister in the hallway."
Shanks glanced up and saw that it was true: Zoro and Perona were watching the interaction, waving at their teacher when he saw them. Shanks waved back. Mihawk said that he'd put them to bed because if they talked to Shanks, the date would be happening in the breakfast nook with two hyped children eager to show off all their toys to their beloved Mr. Akagami.
"Good night, guys. I'll have your dad back by nine."
"Eleven," Mihawk corrected.
Foolishly endeared, Shanks's goofy smile widened. "I meant eleven," he told the kids.
"Don't forget to kiss him good night later!" Perona reminded him.
"Bye!" Zoro said.
Mortified, Mihawk rushed Shanks out of the door, ignoring his hearty laughter.
"Do not mind Perona, she has been watching too many chick flicks," Mihawk mumbled.
"Oh, c'mon. It was cute!" Shanks wheezed. He unlocked his car, easily opening the passenger door for Mihawk. He got in and buckled himself in. "I didn't need the reminder, though. It's already on my agenda later."
Mihawk was glad the interior of the car was dark. It helped disguise the flush over his cheeks. "Jesus Christ. Just drive or I'm jumping out."
Baratie did not disappoint. There was nothing better than the ambiance, the service, not the food. Maybe except for the company Mihawk had. In between bites of the most amazing entrees that Shanks delightfully suggested they share, the two of them talked easily about topics that were both fun and some less than. Mihawk talked about the activities he liked doing as a family, the kind of work he did, and how Crocodile leaving put a dent in their family, but how they were all learning to live without him slowly, but surely.
Shanks talked about his passions: teaching, photography, and the outdoors. He also spoke of his tragedies, a daughter lost to the same car crash that took his arm. Mihawk had instinctively reached across the small table for his hand as Shanks shared Uta with him.
At 10, Mihawk insisted on paying the bill so Shanks volunteered to pay for frozen yogurt after.
They left Shanks' huge truck at the restaurant and walked to the pier where they got tiny cups of frozen yogurt that Mihawk was growing fond of with every taste.
There was a nip in the air and the sound of gulls crying out to each other. It was as they leaned on the pier's railing, facing each other, seeing moonlight in each other's eyes when Shanks kissed Mihawk. He swiped his thumb over the drop of yogurt on Mihawk's lips before replacing it with his lips. He heard Mihawk sigh, dreamy and content, and thought that there was beauty in him that Shanks had only previously found in the landscape of a good rock formation during his hike, the sound of his daughter's laughter, or how it felt to swim in a river after setting up camp.
At eleven, they were back at Mihawk's home, parked in front of the driveway. Shanks walked him back to the door, and true to his word to Perona, gave her dad a good night kiss, sweet with the promise of more.
Mihawk went back inside, watching Shanks get in his car, wave goodbye, then drive away. It was a miracle he was able to relieve the sitter, check the kids in bed, and lock up for the night when he felt so light he might float away.
At breakfast the next morning, Mihawk scrolled through his tablet to read the news with his coffee while the kids, still in their pajamas, rate the fruit and french toast in front of him.
"So? Did Mr. Shanks kiss you good night?" Perona asked.
"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. Finish your breakfast so we can go to the plant nursery." Mihawk countered.
"Mr. Shanks is nice. Are you going to marry him?" Zoro asked.
"People don't normally get married after one date. They take some time to get to know each other before they decide they want a relationship, much less get married. Finish your food."
"How many more dates do you need to do before you can marry him?" Zoro followed up. Perona stared at Mihawk, the same curiosity in her eyes as Zoro's.
Mihawk put his tablet down. "That's very, very far in the future if it ever happens. Big if. Not everyone who dates ends up married. Are you kids okay with me seeing Mr. Akagami?"
Perona nodded. Zoro shrugged.
"He's nice. I'll allow it." Perona said.
Mihawk smirked, amused at her approving tone. "Grand of you, madam. Zoro?"
"Only if you want to. I don't want you to be sad again." Zoro said before turning back to his fruits, his plate surrounded by his sister's Sylvanian Families to watch him dine.
Slayed, Mihawk smoothed a hand over Zoro's mossy-green hair. "You guys are enough to keep me happy."
Perona made a face. "It's too early for you to be this sappy."
Come Monday, Mihawk was already smirking when Shanks greeted him and the kids at the school. Since it seemed to be a busy morning with no space for Mihawk to get a word in with the clearly in-demand Mr. Akagami, he gave Zoro and Perona hugs goodbye and waved to Shanks before hightailing it back to his car. On the drive over to the office, Mihawk received a text from Shanks.
Missed my chance to tell you you looked good a while ago. When are we having dinner again?
Mihawk smiled to himself, pleased. Content again and exhilarated for the first time in a long time.
Drop by when the kids are asleep. We can have some wine and neck in your car.
Author's Note: like i very obviously lost steam finishing this bec I've been staring at this WIP since august? and it seems like its been 5 years already and I wanted it up TODAY for pookie's (Ahri) bday so! this is it I guess!
This is cross-posted from ao3, I just wanted to use this account again. (:
twitter: ooltear