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Summary
Throughout his youth, Mihawk had dreaded his sixteenth birthday. While he watched his elders rejoice at discovering their soulmate's name on their wrists, he saw it only as a distraction, a weakness, on his way to becoming the best swordsman in the world.
So when, on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, no name was inscribed on his left wrist, he was relieved. It could, of course, mean that his soulmate was dead, and really, he didn't wish anyone death, but he was glad that his skin remained blank.
Strangely enough, it hadn't even occurred to him that his soulmate might not yet be born.
So when, at the age of twenty-two, a name had appeared on his wrist one autumn morning while he was practicing, he had looked at it without understanding what was happening. He had watched the letters inscribe themselves on his skin without them making sense.
Zoro…Series
- Part 2 of It's not your name on my wrist