1. Chapter 1 (1/2)

accidental child acquisition and other adventures in piracy

mihawk didn't mean to adopt two children, really he didn't. so why wouldn't shanks shut up about it? sure shanks went on and on about some

at he met in the east blue and what a riot he was but that didn't mean that mihawk had gone out looking for

ats of his own. if anything it was the

ats that wouldn't leave him alone.

"sensei."

speaking of children that wouldn't leave him alone. zoro had taken to calling him sensei. he'd never insisted on it. he'd never insisted on anything when it came to zoro other than he take regular baths and make it home by nightfall.

"yes?"

"when are we going to start training?" zoro had that drawn and stubborn look that he only got when it came to swords. mihawk had no idea why the boy was so caught up on blades, but that didn't change the reality that he was. the warlord was convinced that zoro would have followed the first person he came across with a sword home. that worried mihawk more than it probably should have.

the swordsman had never gotten a straight answer out of the boy in regards to his parents, but at this point, he had yet to see a single flier for a missing boy and he'd been here for over two years so he let zoro keep his silence. mihawk knew that absent parents were more common than not on the oceans.

despite what zoro might have wanted he was not training zoro. he was dracule hawkeyes mihawk and he had no need for an apprentice. if the boy watched his workouts and mimicked them, well that was none of mihawk's business. and if he sometimes gave the green-haired boy feedback on his stances, well no one ever needed to know.

a loud wail echoed through the castle. ah, that was his other headache.

"daddy i can't find bearsy anywhere?!" the pink-haired ghost girl floated through the stone wall. he hadn't told her to call him that either but the girl simply wouldn't be dissuaded and it was exhausting to try and reason with a six-year-old. perona was very outspoken and for all that zoro tended to be quiet when it was just the two of them with their swords as soon as perona entered the mix the two children's loudness increased exponentially. mihawk dragged a hand across his eyes. it was only 7 am and he hadn't even had coffee yet.

"perona, where did you last have bearsy?"

the wailing grew louder, "i don't remember!"

this would not be a quick endeavor. he sighed, "let's go eat

eakfast we will find your bear after."

perona opens her mouth and he sends her a sharp look. he was not open to arguments on this. he was not searching the whole castle for a stuffed bear until he had coffee.

"i thought we were going to go train!" zoro says as he trails after him to the kitchen. perona floats off to her room to get her body.

"a warrior cannot be strong until they learn to take care of their body." mihawk steps over to the stove and deftly ties the black apron around his waist as he clicks the stove on to heat water and milk.

perona comes in next. she's dressed in one of her frilliest dresses. she still doesn't look happy but at least she is no longer crying.

mihawk took down three mugs when the warm milk was just beginning to bubble against the edge of the pot he poured it into the smallest mug. he took a spoonful of chocolate and stirred it in. he paused before adding three small marshmallows. he didn't usually like perona to have so much sugar in the morning, but hopefully, the treat would make her forget about her stuffed bear until

eakfast was finished. he set the mug in front of the small girl and she made a pleased little snort as soon as she sees the marshmallows.

"don't drink it too quickly. it's still hot," he advises.

perona huffs, "i'm not stupid daddy." when mihawk sees her strongly blowing on the top of the mug and he's certain she won't burn herself he goes back over to the stove where the kettle is now boiling. he pours the water into his french press and allows the coffee to percolate. he digs around in the cupboard and finds zoro's usual green tea mix. he drops the tea bag in and pours the water before delivering the mug to zoro.

zoro lets out a small, "thanks sensei."

mihawk nods and goes to finish preparing his coffee. once he's had a few sips he feels more awake. he swears he can feel the caffeine slip into his body on a cellular level. he then begins to fry the eggs, scrambled with cheese and no onions for perona -she was an incredibly picky eater- and simple sunny side up eggs for him and zoro.

eakfast went off with no other hiccups and afterward, he sent zoro off with perona to search the li

ary. if he didn't send them together zoro would no doubt get himself lost. besides he needed complete silence if his technique was going to work.

mihawk spreads his observation haki across the castle. locking onto small inanimate objects was one of the most difficult tasks he'd ever tried. his haki was strong enough that he could keep an eye on major events two seas away, but somehow using it to find a stuffed bear that was in his own home was more exhausting. his vision flipped swiftly from room to room, darting over every surface in a mad search. pressure mounted in the front of his skull after the twentieth room. then he felt a slight itch and he dug deeper into the feeling. a spot of blue and white striping flashed across his mind.

there! he locked on focusing his haki to widen the view. he frowned at the pink and black decorations across every surface; this could only be one room in the castle. he sighed and released his haki. his eyes twitched as his vision settled back into only what was in front of him. he massaged his throbbing head, the sensation would pass soon enough.

the hallways echoed as mihawk made his way to perona's room. it looked like a tornado had passed through. she had clothing, books, and toys spread over every surface. he reached down under her unmade bed and yanked out the bandaged teddy bear in a blue and white conductor's hat.

mihawk closed her bedroom door and followed the sound of bickering, readying for the battlefield that was getting perona to clean her room. he really would like someone to tell him how this became his life.

two years prior:

there was a restaurant that was gaining notoriety in the east blue for its excellent food and the no-nonsense attitude of its chefs. it was the first of its kind a floating seafaring restaurant. the fact that the restaurant was mentioned even at the far end of the grandline was telling and mihawk hoped it lived up to its reputation so this wasn't a wasted trip. not that it mattered, mihawk had nowhere better to be since shanks had come back lacking an arm from the weakest sea. this would be as amusing as anything else, traveling to the east had the added bonus of would-be-pirates trying to assert their strength. it was always a good time to cut up the ship of some cocky captain that knew nothing of the world.

the wind pushed his small craft along and mihawk sipped wine as he stared over the horizon to the calm belt. it was peaceful in the way only the least travel part of the sea could be. traveling over the calm belt was the fastest way to go if you had the strength to survive it. the ocean sparkled. it was him, the water, and the sky. it was lonely. he'd relentlessly climbed to the top but no one mentioned how lonely it was. he had reclaimed his family's castle from the humandrill's but his kingdom was still devoid of life, a gloomy memorial to the follies of man.

he shook his head frying his mind from the sentiment and he poured himself another glass of wine. if the wind held, he would be at the baratie restaurant in time for a late lunch tomorrow that should serve as a welcome distraction for at least a short period of time.

the baratie lives up to its reputation. the food is excellent and worth the trip. they seat him in a far corner at a small table next to an open window. he has a good view of the ships coming and going. the staff is intriguing and chaotic. the head chef has a peg leg and a

aided mustache that stands out against his too-large white hat. for some reason, the man looks vaguely familiar. regardless the man appears to recognize him, it was probably yoru, his sword has a tendency to give him away. still, the head chef just gives him a curt nod and points to the large lettering of the restaurant rules on a plaque by the entrance.

no starting fights in or around the restaurant. this is for you pirate bastards and you marines.

eat everything on your plates, you ingrates.

the customer is always right, except when they aren't.

pay for your meal.

we feed everyone.

the list is odd and contradictory but it's far from the oddest thing mihawk has ever seen. mihawk shrugs and nods his assent. he has no intention of stirring up trouble, not when the restaurant has a very full wine list for him to try. his server is a young blond boy who looks far too young to have a job, but he's a good enough waiter even if he does seem to pay more attention to female customers.

the head chef is keeping a careful eye on the boy. he can't help but equate it to a mother seahawk circling over her young as they take their first flight. it's obvious the older man holds some sort of sentiment for his young apprentice. it's a foreign emotion to mihawk, but the old man doesn't need to worry. mihawk doesn't make it a habit of harming children.

mihawk shrugs off the sensation of eyes on him as he finishes his meal. he's still nursing his second glass of red wine when the head chef kicks, quite literally, one of the other chefs out of the kitchen for trying to over salt his au jus. the two chefs stand in the dining room bickering while he sips his wine when a crew of four men come in with their rifles raised high. the other customers shriek and duck under their tables as the men demand the restaurant staff turn over all their money or they'll start shooting.

as far as threats go it's amateur and banal. mihawk thinks about slicing them down just on the principle of them being rude enough to disturb his meal. why does no one have manners anymore? how irritating.

he takes another long drag finishing his glass, while he gestures for the waiter boy to fill his glass up again. the boy gives him an incredulous look as the rest of the customers cower. the boy does come over and pour him another glass of wine, which is good because if he has to deal with these wannabe pirates he's going to need more booze.

"what are you some kind of idiot or something?" one of low-level pirates says. his boots squeak across the tile as he approaches mihawk's table. the man is utterly boring to look at. he looks like thousands of other weaklings mihawk has cut down in his lifetime.

the man swings his rifle forward and right into mihawk's face. mihawk doesn't flinch. he slashes the butter knife up. the rifle falls into finely diced cubes on the floor. the man gasps and jolts back from the table his hand scrambling to his waist to pull out a short dagger.

"i find your face disturbing to look at while i'm drinking." mihawk inspects the cutlery. it's a surprisingly high-quality steel.

"i'll kill you!" the man spits, his colleagues have come closer now. they're circling like vultures. they fail to notice the dragon in their midst.

"i was aware that pirates on the east blue were the weakest. i didn't realize they were also the stupidest." he drawls as he spins the wine in his glass. it really is a fine vintage. his other hand twirls the butter knife idly.

there's a sudden loud crash from outside. the large schooner the men had sailed in on was cut neatly into thirds. there were shrieks and splashes as bodies jumped from the sinking ship into the sea.

mihawk waits until the men get outside. it seems like poor taste to get blood on the floor of a dining room. besides there are the rules to think about, he really would like to be able to return to this restaurant.

he hums and takes another sip of his wine. then he flicks the knife four times in quick succession. the four pirates cry out in pain and fall into the ocean with the rest of their comrades. the sea bubbles up red. the men may make it, perhaps, if they are strong. mihawk finishes his drink and stands, slinging yoru over his shoulder. he sets a hundred berris down on the table. it should cover his meal.

the restaurant is still silent as he heads for the exit. he pushes the wooden saloon-style doors open.

"wait," the head chef's voice is gruff and sounds like sandpaper. mihawk turns back to look at him, wondering if he had something to say. he wonders if the man has the balls to call him on fighting. mihawk wouldn't consider anything he had done fighting. no, fighting implies your enemy has a chance. "you overpaid."

the head chef stumbles up to him his peg leg tap tap tapping across the floor as he lifts mihawk's payment for lunch off of the table and counts it out before he hobbles back over and presses a ten berri bill back into his hand, "we don't take charity in the baratie." when they're closer the blond man leans in close and says, "next time i expect you to let me and my men handle any disturbances hawkeye mihawk. can't have it getting out that my restaurant makes the customers fight its battles, my reputation would go in the hole. so next time just sit your ass down and enjoy the show."

mihawk grins at the man's steel spine. it was rare that people that knew who he was spoke to him like this. he grins, "noted. i hope you'll keep the alabasta le blanc in stock for my next visit."

with that, he sweeps out of the restaurant. it was good he would be back.

mihawk sails off. he needs to stop at one of the smaller islands on the northside of the east blue to restock supplies before he returns home. he hits the island shimo something in the early evening and pulls into the port. it's small and quiet. the nearest vessels are fishing boats. it's the relaxed type of little island that the east sea is known for.

he pays the four half berri docking fee and saunters into town. families are heading home as the sunsets. the lamplighters are beginning to light the street lanterns casting the street in a soft orange flicker. mihawk follows the flow of people to the main market street.

the market is still bustling although some of the vendors are beginning to close up shop. he walks faster to the first fruit stand he crosses. his hands roam over the apples and he selects a handful. the merchant graciously bags them and mihawk pays him and leaves moving on to the next stand. if he remembers correctly this town sells high-quality short-grain rice. he'd been meaning to restock that item in his pantry for risotto.

by the time mihawk finishes restocking his inventory, the streets are nearly completely empty. the remaining merchants are flipping their signs to closed and heading back to their homes or ships. he tosses his purchases over his shoulder and turns on his heel back towards the docks.

there's a soft scuttle behind him. he stops suddenly and the noise stops too. he takes a few more steps and the scrape of pebbles being scattered begins again. he can sense it; someone is following him. and whoever this person is obviously has no concept of sneaking. mihawk diverts off the main street into the dark series of alleys. his footsteps echo off of the surrounding buildings as he follows the alley to its dead end. there he sets down his groceries.

"come out i don't appreciate cowards or spies."

out of the gloom steps a small figure. the first thing mihawk notices is the boy has green hair. the second that the boy is barefoot.

"i'm no coward," the boy hisses, he has a piece of wheat between his teeth and is chewing it. in the faint light from the main street, the child looks feral. he's wearing pants that are too big for him and are held up by a piece of twine. his white shirt is threadbare and stained. still, the boy is standing there and spitting at him like an angry tomcat protecting his territory. "there's no harm in watching."

"it's rude." a

at, it had been a street

at following him. the boys aren't focused on mihawk though they're focused on his sword in open fascination.

"you don't look so tough," the boy says suddenly, "you're a swordsman; fight me. if i win you give me your apples."

mihawk laughs. ah, that was his goal. this was certainly one of the more interesting muggings someone had tried to pull on him.

the boy scowls, he narrows his silver eyes and glares, "don't you have any honor? you're a swordsman you have to accept challenges. i've beat all of the men on this side of the island. i've met the swords

mihawk's interest is piqued. he's no expert on children but by his estimate, the boy couldn't be more than ten. if the boy was being honest then perhaps he was scrappier than he looked. and where did the boy get his conception of swordsmen from?

"i'm a pirate

at, i have no honor," the boy's eyes widen at that bit of information and mihawk smiles at least the child isn't stupid, "even if i were to accept your duel you have no weapons, nor are you a swordsman. it seems like poor sportsmanship to kill a weakling."

the boy scowls again

istling like a cat, "i'm no weakling and i don't need a weapon to beat up some shitty pirate."

"fine," mihawk grins cruelly. he doesn't make it a habit to harm children but he's not above traumatizing the annoying ones. "i'll accept your deal if you can survive this."

mihawk lets his bloodlust loose. it flows over every stone. it's not conqueror's haki like shanks has but it makes weak men fall all the same. he unsheathes yoru slowly, letting the gentle scrap of his sword against its scabbard echo off the stone.

the boy is panting frozen in place. his eyes are blown wide in terror and he's faintly trembling but he's still conscious and he's still standing which is more than most grown men that have met him can say.

he flicks his blade forward and the boy''s eyes widen even further in alarm before he grits his teeth and schools his expression into one of calm, closing his eyes. it's the look of someone who accepts death and will walk towards it without fear. mihawk has only seen that look on a handful of people in his whole blood-soaked career. it's terrifying to see the expression on a child.

the ground opens up in front of the child as a deep gash is sliced into the

ick road. the boy opens his eyes and blinks in confusion. he looks down at his chest and then at the ground. there isn't a scratch on the boy.

mihawk approaches, leaning over the boy to smirk in his face so the child can understand the difference in power between them. the child doesn't step back though, he holds his ground. most impressive.

"what is your name boy?"

"roronoa zoro." the words are quiet, but there's steel in his voice, "why didn't you kill me?"

mihawk shrugs and resheathes yoru, "just because you were weak today does not mean you won't be worth something in the future. here," mihawk tosses him an apple. roronoa catches it but tilts his head in confusion, "you survived."

mihawk gathers his provisions back on his shoulder and walks past the boy who still has not moved an inch. the streets were just as empty as before and he had no problems finding his way to the docks and loading his ship. if he sets sail now it will only be two days back to his island.

there's a faint scuttle and mihawk sighs. he thought his street

at problem was taken care of for the evening but apparently not. a tuft of green hair is watching him from the edge of the dock.

"i'm coming with you!"

"no, you're not. go back to your family."

the boy sneers at him, "yes i am. if i don't go with you i won't get any stronger and i have to get stronger."

"then go find yourself a master and train," mihawk pulls up the anchor and unloops the rope connecting his ship to the dock. he steps into his boat. it rocks gently under him from his sudden weight. he settles into his seat and reaches up to position his sail.

the ship shakes more violently and mihawk finds a familiar pair of silver eyes glaring up at him. roronoa had followed him into his ship.

"i will defeat you!"

the challenge echoes in the air and mihawk can't help it. he bursts out laughing. his first serious challenge in years is from a six-year-old. perhaps shanks was right and the east blue did have some interesting

ats.

"do as you wish," mihawk says. he has no idea how much trouble those four words are going to cause him in the next ten years and even if he did he wouldn't take them back.

one year prior:

zoro, mihawk found, had no sense of direction. after nearly a year of trying to teach the boy about reading maps and using the sun to orient oneself, he had given up. nothing short of a leash was going to keep the

at on the correct path. it was much faster to just let the boy wander off and use haki to find him later.

this island was different though. mihawk could feel in the air something dark had happened here even before they found the first empty village. it was eerily reminiscent of kuraigana but with none of the comforts. it was uncanny and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention. his instincts told him to keep zoro close until he knew more and so he listened.