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Experiential learning

-Sanji-

„… and the air here is getting thinner and thinner. I don't think I can..."

"Usopp! Maybe it would be easier for you to breathe if you would stop pushing yourself into hyperventilating," he hissed annoyed. "Look at the Marimo, he hates the situation just as much as you do, but does he complain non-stop? No!"

Annoyed, he pointed to the algae of their crew, who was just pushing past Usopp and him without saying a word, and walked on with a scowl on his face, as if he were on his way to a morgue. To Sanji's relief, drops of sweat slid down even the Marimo's temples. The hike may not have been that incredibly strenuous, but the warm temperatures and high humidity ensured that Sanji had already sweated through his airy Hawaiian shirt. He didn't even want to know how boiling hot the Marimo must be in his ugly green coat, which he hadn't even taken off for whatever reason.

"Are you coming or what?" grumbled Zoro, obviously pissed off, and interrupted Usopp before he had even managed to utter a word.

Sanji and Usopp exchanged only a glance and then followed Zoro – or rather called after him and took a different path, since the Marimo was of course not able to just walk straight ahead – without saying what they were thinking.

The last few days had been exhausting, but they had also been unlucky… so unlucky. First, they had jumped from one battle to another for three days — or had it been four — barely having time to catch their breath for a moment, so many pirates, marines, and sea monsters had attacked them, and when they had finally reached an island, the Sunny had simply been carried away by a storm that had appeared out of nowhere.

Somewhat puzzled and quite helpless, Zoro, Usopp, and Sanji had stood at the harbor, had heard Nami screaming, but the Sunny had been gone. After a lot of hustle and bustle, a medium-sized bar brawl, a chase of bounty hunters and a strange rendezvous with a wide-mouthed frog, they had finally managed to reach the others, but only because Zoro's little transponder snail had suddenly called out of nowhere and Hawk Eyes had been on the other side, explaining that he had just met the rest of the crew hundreds of miles away.

Thanks to the Vivre Card that Hawk Eyes had from the Marimo and Nami's superior navigational skills, they had quickly figured out how and where they could best find each other. But it had not been easy. The three of them had traveled from island to island, had fled from white-mouthed frogs, and had twice been almost discovered by marines. Now they had been fighting their way along a mountain range for several hours, but if they could believe the map – which Sanji had only gotten thanks to a little flirtation and a great meal – they had almost reached the highest point and from then on, fortunately, it would only be downhill until they would finally reach the beach, and somewhere there the others would pick them up and Sanji could hardly await that moment.

He had smoked his last cigarette two or three days ago and it was really exhausting to watch over the constantly getting lost Marimo and at the same time to make sure that Usopp didn't talk himself into a heart attack.

The first few days they had worked quite well together, but slowly one could tell that they were all getting more irritable and especially the Marimo was not easy to handle. He became colder and grumpier with each passing hour, as if he had to concentrate on a difficult, incredibly annoying task.

It didn't help that Usopp became more neurotic with each passing hour, while Sanji went through an unwanted cold turkey. He really hoped that they would reach the beach soon and that the others wouldn't need much longer.

"This way, Marimo, really, I should tie you to Usopp."

"No, thank you, we really don't have to try that again," Usopp only grumbled in a plaintive tone, but nevertheless grabbed Zoro by the wrist and pulled him in the right direction before Zoro grumbled quietly, freed his arm, and buried his hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

"So, around this corner and then we should have reached the highest point of our little hiking tour," Sanji murmured with another look at the map.

"No matter how funny you think you are, you're not," Usopp replied coolly. "Not when my blisters on my feet already have blisters of their own and my clothes are as wet from sweating as if I had fallen into the sea."

Sanji wanted to say something, but a dull buff made him pause. Behind them, Zoro had sunken to one knee.

"Hey, what's the matter, Marimo, are you already tired?"

"Just give me... a minute," he replied, breathing heavily, one hand pressed to his chest. He took a deep breath several times, shook his head slightly, as if he were fighting himself.

"Hey Zoro, you don't look good at all," Usopp muttered and crouched down in front of him. "Here, do you want to drink something?"

"I'm fine, I just need..."

Sanji looked down at the other two doubtfully, while Usopp persuaded the Marimo to have a drink, and when Zoro finally gave in, it only took a sip and suddenly he poured the bottle down his throat as if he was about to die of thirst.

Usopp was right, he really didn't look good. Just a moment ago, Sanji had thought that Zoro was just hot like all of them, but not only his cheeks were reddened, but also his forehead, and Sanji imagined that his eye looked a bit glassy after all.

"Are you sick?" he said and bent down.

"Leave me alone!" Zoro slapped Sanji's hand away, spilled the last drops of water, but he had been too late. He still looked so strained.

"Your forehead is glowing."

"I'm fine."

Usopp looked up doubtfully at Sanji, and automatically he fingered for his cigarettes, but of course the pocket was empty. Fuck!

He stared at the Marimo sullenly. Perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise. They had slept little the past few days, had hardly been able to take breaks, had not eaten as balanced as he would have liked, and had been out and about in soaking wet clothes far too often. Zoro may not get sick quickly, but even he was only human. It was annoying, but it was the way it was, they just had to come up with something. The only problem was that Zoro was an extremely exhausting patient.

"Marimo," he said, knew that this was the only way he could get through to this stubbornness, "we all know better. Yes, the hiking was exhausting, but not so strenuous for you to be out of breath and needing a break. You sweat non-stop and can hardly stay on your feet. You're simply sick and have a fever. The sooner you realize that the faster we can move on and get you to Chopper and to bed, get it?"

Usopp took a deep breath and clearly looked as if he did not approve of this approach. Snorting, the Marimo stared at him and fought his way up.

"I can..."

"Zoro! Hey!"

Zoro's knees gave way. At the last moment, he had been able to hold on to Usopp, who had jumped up and caught him. For a second, no one said anything.

"I know you can walk yourself, but how about we take the faster route? Then you can catch some sleep faster as well." Oh yes, all the exhausting hours with Robin had been worth it. Sanji had cracked the Zoro code! The other stared at him for a few more seconds, obviously angry, but also so obviously with a glazed look. "Come on."

He turned his back on Zoro and bent his knees a little. To his surprise, he heard a loud snort and then Zoro actually let himself fall on his back. His arms slid over Sanji's shoulders. He ignored Usopp's panicked look, grabbed Zoro by the back of his knees and stood up.

"Well then, let's go."

Usopp looked at him for a moment with wide eyes, then he grabbed the empty bottle. "We should hurry."

In fact, they were now taking a faster step, and Usopp's panic had the advantage of him being able to defeat it for others when it mattered.

"Huh, there's almost something familiar about this," Sanji muttered and shouldered his crewmember a little better, "isn't it? But don't let it become a habit for me to always drag you around."

The hot breath on his neck was uncomfortable. So he was not mistaken. Zoro didn't even attempt to lift his head. He had not resisted, had realized that he needed help. That was never a good sign.

"Something's wrong," Zoro murmured softly against Sanji's neck, almost hoarse.

"You're sick, of course something is wrong. Rest for now, we'll take you to the ship," he replied lightly, but sped up his steps even more.

He could feel Usopp's sideways glance.

"I think he actually fell asleep."

"Well, that's the only normal thing about his behavior," Sanji grumbled.

"What do we do when the others aren't there yet?" They looked at each other. "He really seems not to be doing well."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," he replied curtly and hurried down the path. Usopp was right, Zoro was not well, and it didn't seem to be a simple cold. They needed Chopper.

With what felt like every step, he walked faster, as if Zoro's strained breath would ask him to speed up even more, although Zoro didn't say a single word. At some point, Usopp stopped for a moment and pointed to the horizon, which he had probably been keeping an eye on the whole time. There she was, the Sunny! At last!

However, it took about half an hour before they had made their way through stony wasteland and reached the beach. Slowly, Sanji's arms became heavy, but he couldn't and didn't want to slow down. Zoro was still breathing heavily and Sanji's back was wet with sweat.

Without really noticing, he began to run, Usopp next to him. They could hear Luffy's voice from far away, but they could hardly reciprocate the joy. It was just an infection the Marimo had caught for once, and yet they ran faster and faster.

The closer they had come, the quieter it had become on board and suddenly Usopp stopped in the middle of running when out of nowhere Hawk Eyes stood in front of them, who apparently hadn't wanted to wait until they were on deck.

"What happened?" He sounded icy cold, his invading gaze only briefly on Zoro before he stared them down.

"He's sick," Usopp explained erratically, "he's feverish, I don't know. Collapsed at the mountain."

For a moment, the hawk eyes flickered to the mountain, as if he were just calculating the strain of the track.

"Mi... Mihawk."

"You're awake?" Sanji murmured as the heat on his ear eased a little, while Zoro lifted his head, his breath still hot and strained.

"Roronoa."

"You... Comil... You must... call... Comil."

The other's eyes widened for a moment, then he nodded curtly, turned around and left. Confused, Sanji and Usopp stared at each other, then jumped on board.

-Mihawk-

It used to be easier, a number, an order, and some annoying patience, but now that he was no longer a lapdog of the World Government, he couldn't just command his will. But Mihawk would still get his way, of course.

But his patience was even shorter than usual today, so it cost him the greatest effort, but finally he had Comil on the other side of the line.

"Hawk Eyes," the soldier greeted him as always with that slight undertone, as if he wasn't telling Mihawk everything, but something like that couldn't impress him. "I didn't think we'd ever talk again."

He ignored the unnecessary small talk.

"I have a question regarding the Reborns. Is there...?"

"You do know that I am not your encyclopedia for the reincarnated whenever you or your..."

"Oh, but that is exactly what you are, and don't you dare think otherwise. If I want to know something, you will answer my questions, understood?"

Comil snapped, "Hawk Eyes, maybe you've forgotten, but you're not a Shichibukai anymore, and do you really think I'll answer if you threaten me?"

"Of course," he replied coolly. He did not have time for this game, but if Comil wanted to play, Mihawk would put him in his place very quickly. "After all, we both know who my partner is, and as a wanderer you cannot risk it, can you?"

"You base your whole threat on the assumption that the life of some other wanderer is so important to me?"

Despite the situation, Mihawk had to grin. "Well, if it is just the life of some wanderer, then hang up."

It was quiet for five heartbeats.

"What do you want to know?"

Game, set, and match, as it had been clear from the beginning. But he could not be happy about it, it had cost him too much time.

"Is there some kind of disease that reborn people can be exposed to?"

Again it was quiet for a moment.

"What are the symptoms?"

"High fever and apparently generally strong heat."

"What body?"

"The original."

"How long ago since the last transformation?"

He only needed a moment to reminisce about the course of the past few days.

"At least a few days, more than a week rather than less."

"Have there been any difficulties in the past to transform back into the original body?"

"No, not that I..." He remembered this strange conversation. It had been a long time ago, even before Roronoa had defeated him. When Mihawk had met with Crocodile and the Clown. He had not been reachable for a few days and afterwards Roronoa had trained a lot in that other form and asked Mihawk many questions about his training. "Possibly, a long time ago."

Comil escaped a thoughtful sound. "The Fire Fever."

That did not sound good.

"Means?" he grumbled coolly.

"You know the rules. The original body burned in the fire at that time, and only came back via the second. If the second body is repressed too often for too long a time, the original body loses its connection to the other body and thus to the world."

"In summary, he is dying?"

"The symptoms you reported are the original body's memory of its death. Just at this moment, the original body burns again. Without treatment, you either die or you survive, but you lose the original body for good."

"And what is the treatment?"

"Cold, you have to fight the fire inside the body. Although I can't recommend a freezer. We're talking about a process that takes hours, if not days, by then any ice would burn the skin."

"So he has to be cooled down for several hours, that's it?"

Comil hesitated for a moment.

"There must be no interruption. The fire will become stronger and stronger over time and at some point, it will take less than a minute to burn the body from the inside out. If you manage to cool him down, you should see an improvement after a few hours."

"Good,..."

"Hawk Eyes!" the soldier interrupted him as he was about to hang up. "It's important that he transforms as soon as he can, you know? He won't want to, because it won't feel like he has to transform. But if he doesn't, the fever will only get worse and then there's nothing more you can do."

"I see."

"And, even if this is not part of your question, if everything goes well, you are bound to the second body for several days and you cannot transform, it is best not to try. But once sick, the fire can come back if you push your limits too much, and each time it will become more exhausting to keep the fire under control." For a moment it was quiet. "That's all, I don't have any more information."

Without saying another word, he hung up and stormed back onto the Straw Hats' ship.

There he found the assembled crew in the galley, with the exception of Roronoa, Doctor Chopper, and the sniper, but he ignored their questions and walked straight into the sickbay. The sniper just helped Roronoa into less sweaty clothes, Roronoa barely seemed conscious, while Doctor Chopper put a thermometer aside and shook his head slightly.

"You clearly need anti-inflammatories. I really don't like this, your temperature has already risen by 0.3C in the last 5 minutes and I..."

"Medicine won't help Roronoa," he chimed in, stepping next to the sniper and helping him pull Roronoa's limp arms through the sleeves of the sweater. "This disease does not originate in an infection."

"Mihawk, what…"

"Be silent and rest." Roronoa still tried to fight him, but Mihawk simply picked him up, he really didn't look good, as he surrendered to his fate far too quickly. "We have to cool him down, as quickly and as deeply as possible, I think..."

"No, if we..."

"Doctor Chopper. I ask you to trust me in this matter." Then he turned to the sniper. "We will need ice, a lot of ice, for several days."

"I... alright," he nodded and looked at him with wide eyes, perhaps very confused for a moment, then he hurried to the galley.

"Doctor Chopper, I suggest putting Roronoa in a bathtub with ice water, this keeps the risk of frostbites low."

The young doctor looked at him suspiciously, then sighed and jumped from his chair. "Your plan contradicts my medical assessment, so please explain to me what's going on."

On the way to the bathroom of the pirate ship, he explained to Doctor Chopper briefly and concisely what he had just learned. He did not know if Roronoa was still conscious enough to listen as well, but he did not fight Mihawk, which was always a bad sign.

"We should put gloves and socks on him to prevent direct contact with ice," Doctor Chopper muttered thoughtfully as he hurried over to the fittings.

"You are turning up the hot water supply," Mihawk remarked, kicking off his boots. "We only need cold water."

"No, Zoro's body is under extreme stress due to the high temperature, throwing him into ice-cold water now could trigger a heart attack. We put him in warm water and gradually cool the temperature down."

"I do not know if we have that much time," he replied. "Roronoa's temperature seems to be rising steadily."

"We have to take the risk. We will take his temperature every few minutes, as long as it does not reach a critical level, I am not willing to take any more drastic steps."

Shaking his head, Mihawk wanted to contradict this. "If we don't..."

"Hey."

"Roronoa, you are awake."

His head still leaning against Mihawk's chest from exhaustion, but the other looked up at him, his eye only half open, breathing heavily.

"Let Chopper... He knows what he's... doing."

He wanted to yell at Roronoa that no one here knew what exactly to do, since none of them had ever had to deal with supernatural illnesses that they could have avoided if Roronoa had only transformed more often. But he did not, instead he just rolled his eyes and carried Roronoa over to the expansive bathtub, sat down on the edge, his feet in the water and slowly let his indomitable little frog sink into it. The water was not very high yet, but Roronoa's clothes immediately soaked up.

"Here, try to lean against the wall."

"Mhm..." Breathing heavily, Roronoa let Mihawk put him in the right position.

"I'm going to get everything I need," remarked Doctor Chopper, and hurried away.

Alone with Roronoa, he continued to squat on the edge, his feet in the warm water, still holding Roronoa.

"Did you just listen?" he asked, whereupon he received wordless agreement that he did not quite believe. "How are you?" he asked.

"Hot," Roronoa murmured after a moment.

"Oh, do you now?" Mihawk sarcastically replied. "Why did you have to do something stupid like that?"

Roronoa only grumbled a little under his breath, but nothing more. He really must have been feeling sick. Not only did he not defend himself, no, he also did not complain that everyone treated him like a sick person, did what he was told. It really was not a good sign.

In the next few minutes, Doctor Chopper came back, explained that he had passed on the necessary information to the crew and measured Roronoa's temperature. It had risen only slightly, but that did not reassure either Doctor Chopper or Mihawk.

They now let colder water flow in to gradually lower the temperature. The water now went up to Roronoa's belly before they finally turned off the inflow. He was still breathing heavily and sweating incessantly.

"You must drink a little," Doctor Chopper urged him. "Otherwise, you'll get dehydrated."

"I'm fine," Roronoa murmured and pushed away the glass Doctor Chopper was offering him. With a gesture Mihawk let the young doctor hand it to him.

"Could you please provide me with cold water and a cloth?"

"Of course. I'm happy about everything I can do. A crewmember is sick and I, as a doctor, can hardly contribute anything meaningful."

He gave the young doctor a smile as he scurried through the bathroom and filled one of the washing buckets with cold water.

"Do not belittle your actions. You are the only doctor Roronoa listens to, at least once in a while."

"I heard that," Roronoa murmured indistinctly.

"Here, drink." Mihawk held the glass to his lips and to his surprise, Roronoa followed his instructions, leaned his head back afterwards, breathing heavily, his damp hair brushed against Mihawk's pants. "Good, and now get some sleep, rest for now."

"Mhm," Roronoa only said, a smile twitching across his face.

"No, absolutely not." Doctor Chopper hurried over with the washing bucket. "He could drown."

"Doctor Chopper," he replied with a smile as he put the glass away and pulled the bucket closer, "we both know only too well how important sleep is for Roronoa's recovery."

"Yes, but..."

"And why do you think I am sitting here? Let Roronoa sleep well. I will make sure he does not drown."

Doctor Chopper looked at him doubtfully. "You can't watch him for days, especially not in freezing water."

"Are you really underestimating the man who trained Roronoa over two years to become what he is today?" He grabbed the cloth and dipped it into the cold water, not nearly cold enough. "I am able to stand a little cold water."

The young doctor had still put on this suspicious look.

"I'll get you gloves and socks, too. You should avoid direct contact with ice." But then he hopped closer and measured Roronoa's temperature again. "Okay, it seems like the fever hasn't risen any further. But of course, his temperature is still way too high."

"We should cool the water down more."