Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When he was twelve, Rayleigh gave Mihawk a calendar where each day had its own profound and positive quote. Mihawk had passionately hated reading those little notes that were supposed to put him in a good mood and rolled his eyes reading things like: "eat the spaghetti to forgetti your regretti" or "why be moody when you can shake yo booty" and "If you fall, I'll be there -floor". At least the calendar had had the merit of making Rayleigh laugh. The old man forced Mihawk to tell him what the daily quotes was each mornings. And then, on the mornings the old man wasn't around, Mihawk would text him and get a laughing emoji. Nowadays, the calendar was hidden in a drawer in Mihawk's closets, who hadn't had the heart to throw it away.

There was a quote that Mihawk didn't understand then: "Always stay true to yourself and never sacrifice who you are for anyone."

However, today, the quote finally took on its full meaning.

Silvers Mihawk had just completed his master's degree in international geopolitics and security. He probably didn't need it, a license would have sufficed since his father was CEO of the most reputable bodyguard company in the country. However, Mihawk had insisted on continuing his studies to broaden his horizons. His parents had been present at the ceremony, although Mihawk would have done without the presence of his father who had managed to embarrass him in front of an entire amphitheater. What bothered Mihawk the most was the empty seat next to Shakky.

"I'm sorry, scum," said Rayleigh with a hand on his son’s shoulder, "I called him several times but he didn't pick up."

Mihawk pretended that everything was fine and that his boyfriend's absence did not affect him. Instead, he went to a restaurant with his parents and family friends, and pretended to be having fun - festivities never were not his cup of tea. It was not until late at night that he decided to go check on his boyfriend because someone had to drop Rouge and Ace off at home. She thanked him for the car ride and let him enter to drop the baby off in his playpen.

He did not ask permission before going down to the cellar since Roger and Rouge's house was like his second home. Roger and Rayleigh were like brothers and could always be seen together. Thus, Mihawk spent a lot of time in the house. So much so that Roger and Rouge gave him his own key. Mihawk's heart sank as he remembered Roger's smile and infectious laugh. The old man had died last year of cancer. Ever since nothing was the same; Mihawk could see it every day with his father, sometimes Rayleigh would turn to speak to someone who was no longer there, his smile abruptly disappearing. He also occasionally saw it in Shanks, the few times Mihawk could saw him.

Roger once renamed the basement the "explosive creative studio" because it was where Shanks unleashed his creativity, composed music, and wrote songs. Father and son had turned the cellar into a living space when Shanks was sixteen. They had painted the walls black but covered most of them with red acoustic foam, put white tiles on the floor, and installed small spotlights on the ceiling. The studio had been designed as a mini bunker with a small fridge stocked with snacks and energy drinks, a long comfy couch that Rayleigh had to help carry, and shelves that Mihawk had put up because it appeared that two adults and a teenager could not read simple instructions. There was also an electric piano, a guitar, and a microphone.

Mihawk had to admit he loved the place and the memories attached to it: Rayleigh and Roger arguing like an old married couple, Shanks singing him a song no one else could ever hear, and all those nights where Mihawk revised his exams with a melody playing in the background. The acoustic also had its uses for two young people with overexcited hormones; they could have a lot of fun in the studio.

Thus, Mihawk had not expected to have his heart broken in said studio. His special place with Shanks reeked of cheap booze, cocaine and joints, and sex. Mihawk should have shielded his eyes from the vision when he smelled the nauseating odor, but he descended the three steps anyway. He wanted to see with his own eyes how far Shanks had fallen.

Bottles of beer were strewn on the ground like abandoned corpses on a battlefield. White powder and half-finished joints lay on the coffee table among white sheets. Shanks was lying on his couch, naked, stoned, and debauched, with an equally naked Buggy in his arms. It was easy to understand what the two “friends” had spent the day doing. Mihawk clenched his fist as they were both dead to the world.

As a boyfriend, his normal reaction should have been shock or sadness, but Mihawk was just tired and disappointed. Roger's death had completely screwed up Shanks, who had indulged in all the vices for a year: drugs, alcohol, and now cheating. Mihawk had tried to help him get better, really he had tried, but he wasn't enough. And he was sick of having to clean up after Shanks. Mihawk had graduated and a bright future awaited him outside of that studio, when all his boyfriend offered him was this: a life of debauchery filled with bitterness and wasted second chances.

Shanks could continue to ruin his life and health if he wanted to, but Mihawk refused to follow him on this path.

So, before leaving, Mihawk left a note for Shanks. He never wanted to see him or talk to him again, but Shanks deserved an explanation even when was too beside himself to hear it right now.

"Shanks.

I've told you before and I'll repeat it one last time: don't let grief consume you, but use it as a strength. You have a gift with music, don't waste it. When will you realize that's not what Roger wanted for you?

You're not the best version of yourself right now and I can't stand having to beg you to be good to me anymore.

I love you, but I deserve better.

-Mihawk."

Chapter Text

One… two… three…

"You should start talking."

One… Inspire…

"Again…"

Two…Exhale…

"...Continue…"

Three… Again...

"...He can handle it…."

Inhale air, hold your breath and exhale. It was easy. Even children could do it. Still, Mihawk felt like he hadn't breathed for months. It was as if he still had his head underwater after all this time. Although he tried to swim towards the surface, he remained stuck at the bottom of the water. Mihawk had thought that running in a park to enjoy his regained freedom would help him get his head above water. To give an activity to his body so his head could breathe. However, the memories remained anchored in his memory even when he ran.

"You don't have to suffer... just speak and you will be free."

"As free as Moria? "

"He was an idiot. You can be useful."

Mihawk abruptly stopped running and tried to catch his breath. Running wasn't helping, it wasn't enough even though he had been running for an hour and his breath was gasping. Sweat ran down his forehead. His legs were burning with exertion. Despite the effort, he still felt like a beast locked in a too-small cage for too long.

The park Mihawk was jogging in was a lovely place. The park was divided into three areas: near the entrance was the children's park - which Mihawk avoided like the plague -, then there was a large forest area with multiple paths, and in the center was a pond where young couples in love rented pedal boats or idle people were fishing. Except it was early morning and the air was cool enough to keep all the early risers in bed. Mihawk was looking for this feeling of freshness on his skin.

In fact, he'd be willing to jump into freezing water if it would silence the memories, but he didn't want to explain to his therapist why he'd jumped into a pond at seven in the morning. Any progress Mihawk would have made in coaxing his psychologist would then be ruined forever.

His phone vibrated in his pocket which startled Mihawk. It was a new phone number and the only people who could call him were supposed to still be asleep.

007 : "Bring your butt at the SSA."

Mihawk did not answer knowing that his father did not expect an answer. Rayleigh knew him better than anyone, probably a little too well, which sometimes caused conflict between father and son. So Ray knew that Mihawk was having trouble sleeping right now - mostly because Mihawk had moved back in with his parents and it was hard to hide his nightmares from them. What was amazing on the other hand was that Ray was up.

Along the way, he picked up two coffees from a local coffee shop that served decent drinks according to Mihawk's standards. He liked his coffee to be made a certain way. Mihawk put the two coffees in the cup holder before turning on the engine of his Audi e-tron. His car was the only thing the judges had let him keep, otherwise, Mihawk had lost everything: his dignity, his house, and his money. He was forty-one and had the same bank account as a child.

The first radio station was a continuous news channel. Unfortunately, in recent months, journalists have only been talking about one subject.

"You realize ?" the columnist asked her colleagues and the rest of the country, "The World Government had secret agents working for them for ages. And what did these pseudo-secret agents do? Extortion, trafficking, terrorism, crime syndicate, and extremism. All Shichibukais without exception should be…"

Mihawk changed the radio station by pressing a button on the steering wheel. He didn't want to hear a semi-qualified columnist shouting loud and clear that he should be executed or God knows what else. Lately, Mihawk was trying hard to forget everything that had to do with the Shichibukais and their downfall.

The next radio station offered him no kind of comfort.

"Hey, folks! Welcome to Enchanted Rhythm. It's seven ten in the morning and we're going to start gently with the new Red Pirates single! You could tell they chose their name well since they steal all hearts," the man on the radio laughed at his own joke before pop music started playing in the background, "Captain and his crew will brighten up this cold early morning with 'Endless sea'. Stay with us for a great day!"

This time, Mihawk turned off the radio to avoid killing his ears with pop music. It was too early to listen to this kind of atrocity. Mihawk greatly preferred listening to classical music or covers of modern songs on piano rather than all this new music filled with autotune.

He had just arrived at the agency anyway.

The SSA or Silvers Security Agency was Rayleigh's bodyguard company. The old man had devoted all his savings, time and blood to make his business work and prosper. And Ray had succeeded. When Mihawk was a child, the SSA was a multi-world agency where very influential people were paying a fortune to be under Rayleigh's protection.

Unfortunately, the Agency was no longer what it had been for a few years. Half of the offices were empty and poorly maintained due to countless layoffs. The business was barely surviving and soon the SSA would go out of business. All this because of three agents who failed in their mission, a rival company that is more competitive in the market, and bad economic conditions. The fall of the Shichibukai had only tarnished the company's name even more. To this day, Mihawk still doesn't know how reporters found out his real name, but Ray's clients stopped trusting him since.

Speaking of the wolf, Ray was sitting on his desk while waiting for his son. The CEO’s office was the only place in the building whose lights were on at the moment. The old man thanked him for the coffee before motioning for him to sit down. Oddly, Mihawk felt like he was sixteen again and Ray was going to scold him.

"Your psychiatrist called me yesterday," the old man began, sipping his coffee - an Americano with three sugars in it.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, "he finally found someone to blame for my mental health?"

"No, " Ray chuckled, "he gave me the green light. Congratulations, Scum, you have finally been deemed fit to be a model citizen. We should celebrate!"

"It would be better to wait for the judge's verdict before celebrating, you risk bringing us the evil eye."

"Killjoy."

"Airheaded."

"Very good, no party, no alcohol."

"Now, no need to go to such extremes. A bottle of red wine won't kill us."

Rayleigh laughed heartily before handing a plastic card to Mihawk. Above was written in large ‘SSA’ as well as his photo, his name and first name. Ray had registered him as 'Dracule' rather than 'Silvers', it was a family tradition for children to change surnames that Ray had instituted by cutting ties with his father. But deep down, Mihawk would always be a Silvers.

Mihawk could finally work again now that the shrink had deemed him fit, meaning that his lies and politeness had finally paid off. Plus, Mihawk wouldn't even have to beg a company to employ him and trust him since his dad was already offering him a job. Mihawk needed action in his life, needed purpose and to let the beast out of his cage. Rayleigh was the only one who understood this feeling of being locked in his own skin and not being able to get out. Above all, Ray needed a competent agent, whom he could trust and who he did not have to pay a lot.

"I already have a case for you. Well, it's the only one I have on hand and I need you on this case, although it may be small fry for you. I would understand if you refuse. This case could pose personal problems."

"What is it?" Mihawk asked suspiciously.

"A hotel room in which one of the Yonkos was staying was ransacked last night. Now, it wouldn't matter if this star hadn't been stalked for a few weeks now."

Rayleigh handed a tablet to Mihawk so he could see the hotel room for himself. The five-star suite had been completely devastated by a mini-tornado: the sofa was overturned, the cushions ripped open, and the TV destroyed. Several photos showed the room in different states of destruction. A warning had been tagged on the wall: "You are mine! "

"Lovely," said Mihawk after looking at all the photos, "which Yonko exactly are we talking about?"

The Yonkos were the four most famous, wealthy, and influential artists in the world: Kaido a former MMA champion turned actor; Big Mom who was part culinary influencer, part singer; rock singer Whitebeard; and the captain of the Red Pirates, Shanks, the rising star of the Shin Sekai. By a coincidence of fate, Mihawk had met them all: Kaido through Doflamingo; he had been assigned to protect a show in which Big Mom had appeared; he had met Whitebeard by chance and had asked him for backstage tickets for Ace; and he had grown up with Shanks. As things stand, Mihawk would rather have to endure Big Mom's whims than have to end up in the same room as his ex-boyfriend.

Except that Mihawk was really unlucky this year.

"Shanks called on my services, he knows I won't let him down. Little shit is probably trying to help me keep the business by paying me way too much for this assignment."

For his part, Mihawk did not share his father's enthusiasm, "Are you sure he didn't destroy the hotel room himself? He could have fallen back into his old ways if he ever managed to abandon them."

"Shanks has been clean for almost 15 years. I wouldn't ask you to accept this assignment if I wasn't sure the threat was real."

Mihawk believed his father, Rayleigh had never lied to him. Yet the thought of seeing Shanks again after all these years made his stomach churn. His last memory of the red-headed was in the studio: Shanks lying naked with Buggy and white powder on their face.

"This mission would avoid the closure of the SSA?"

"It would be a new springboard for sure, Shanks would give us free publicity in addition to the money."

"Alright, tell him that I accept."

"Mihawk," Ray began as he approached his son, his eyes filled with concern, "I don't want you to agree out of duty. You don't have to sacrifice yourself if you don't want to. I will take care of it personally."

"You're not the 007 agent you used to be, Ray. You won't be able to keep up with the band's tour or find what might be a needle in a haystack. Leave it to me, it'll be fine. I'm a grown man who's done far more dangerous missions. Shanks doesn't scare me."

Before Rayleigh could add anything, Mihawk added quietly, "I owe you that."

"You don't owe me anything, scum."

"We both know that I left you eighteen years ago to join the Shichibukai and look where that got us: my bad reputation is taking your life's dream down with it. It's my fault you're in this situation."

Ray sighed wearily before forcing his son to look at him, "This business was a dream of a young man with no skills except for fighting. You're my son. I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness and your health for an old dream. The SSA is not going to die anytime soon, I would sell the building if necessary and make the basement my new office. We’ll find a way to keep the SSA on, together."

"You won't dare. Shakky will kill you if you turn her underground speakeasy into an office.”

"You're probably right," Ray said with a grin.

"I still want to do it."

Ray sighed as he tossed his coffee mug in the trash, "I've never been able to talk you out when you have set up your mind before, I don't see why I would succeed now. But I want you to take someone with you."

"I work alone," Mihawk replied, finishing his coffee - a latte that had the perfect balance of coffee and milk - and effortlessly tossed the cup in the trash.

"It's non-negotiable, Scum. I want someone to be with you. Calm the spirit of an old man and accept."

Mihawk stared at his father hoping he could say something to change his mind, but Ray's brown eyes were uncompromising. The new agent ended up accepting knowing that his father was probably right. Nonetheless, Mihawk's stomach churned at the thought of working with someone again after what happened last time.

Above all, Mihawk dreaded his meeting with Shanks. It would be the first time he would see the redhead again since the breakup eighteen years ago. And he would have preferred it to stay that way forever, but the SSA needed this job and Mihawk will not disappoint his father again.

"One last thing."

Ray pulled a long box out from under his desk and set it on top.

Mihawk looked at the box already knowing what was inside and said emphatically, "No."

"You don't even know what's in there!"

"I won’t wear a uniform, a suit will do."

"No way you're wearing a suit, we're not in the Men In Black."

Mihawk rolled his eyes, "and then you wonder why your company went bankrupt?"

"You are going to represent the SSA, you have to be seen wearing the company uniform. Besides, Shakky made it especially for you and you don't want to upset your mom."

"Hiding behind his wife is pathetic for a man your age," Mihawk said as he opened the box defeatingly.

"Yeah, but it works," Ray replied with a laugh seeing the look of disgust on his son's face.

Chapter Text

The new uniform gave Mihawk the unpleasant impression of being a monkey dressed in a three-piece suit in a zoo. He was attracting all eyes. Not that he hadn't been eye-catching before, first for his attractiveness, then for the recent events surrounding the disbanding of the Shichibukai and the arrest of most of the members. The hotel secretary had nearly called the cops when she saw him enter before he presented his card and said they were expected. And then the three people who took the elevator backed up to make room for them. It was embarrassing and childish.

Mihawk ignored them and looked into the mirror unintentionally. His lips twitched slightly upon seeing his ‘work uniform’. The uniform was a black compression tee except for the torso portion which was a rich burgundy red and with a harness, which was used to store weapons, he wore a gray military cargo with way too many pockets and which clung to his skin, long black boots, and gray and red mittens. The worst was probably the SSA symbol stamped on the harness on his chest. The only comforts were the rifle at his hip and the knives hidden in strategic places.

Mihawk felt like he was walking towards his own doom when a ‘ding’ sounded and the elevator doors opened into a microscopic single-door hallway. He rang the doorbell, his sidekick behind him, and stepped back a little.

The new agent was filled with apprehension, which annoyed him to no end. Apprehension was not exactly a familiar feeling for Mihawk. On a mission, he used to feel the adrenaline running through his veins as his head cleared of unnecessary thoughts to focus solely on the goal at hand. Being Shanks' bodyguard was just another assignment so why was Mihawk stressing out? He knew the stakes were high for the SSA and for him - getting the job done could tip the scales in his favor in the judge's decision - but there was something else underneath it all: apprehension about seeing Shanks again after eighteen years.

The longer the door took to open, the more Mihawk was immersed in his existential questions: had Shanks changed in eighteen years? Was he still that child that Mihawk had known or would he still be that orphan of a father and drug-addicted? Or, worse, was Shanks like those extravagant divas?

A young man of about twenty-five, with dark hair and tired gray eyes, opened the door for them. Mihawk recognized him from the files he had read: Trafalgar Water Law, the Red Pirates' chief security officer. It was Law who took pictures of the hotel room and passed all the information and descriptions to Rayleigh. Law may not have been a detective, but he had the merit of not being afraid of Mihawk and he let him into the penthouse without asking unnecessary questions.

"Who is he? Mr. Gol had mentioned one bodyguard," Law asked, blocking the path of the person following Mihawk carrying their suitcases.

"My student," Mihawk said, annoyed.

He did a quick scan of the penthouse that spanned the entire floor to assess the level of security. The penthouse had two possible entrances: the elevator which required a card to activate it and a fire escape. Mihawk stared at the large bay windows knowing that might be a problem. He didn't yet know the level of danger of the individual who was after Shanks, but someone with the same abilities as the agent could manage to enter through the bay windows. Mihawk had already scaled hotels with higher levels of security without ever being spotted.

"His colleague," the young man grumbled before introducing himself to Law, "I'm Roronoa Zoro, bodyguard intern at the SSA."

"Law, babysitter."

Mihawk saw them shaking hands for far too long, the tension visible as they stared into each other's eyes. He coughed to get their attention and almost smiled when he saw the blush on Zoro's cheeks and the wanting in Law’s gray eyes. It didn't bode well. He glared at his student who shrugged, muttering an insult.

There were three reasons why Mihawk chose Zoro of all the people still working at the SSA. First, Zoro was like a diamond that needed to be shaped by expert hands. The kid, although an intern for now, had an innate knack for the job, skills that had yet to be explored and developed, and good instincts. Mihawk had seen potential in Zoro like Rayleigh before him. This mission could allow the young man to officially join the ranks of the SSA. Next, Zoro had the same dislike for his costume - which was green instead of red. And finally, Zoro was the only one in the office who wasn't a fan of the Red Pirates.

"The SSA agent is here?" someone with a deep voice asked as he entered the room. The man was tall, slightly taller than Mihawk, had gray hair styled in a low ponytail, and a cigarette in his mouth.

Benn Beckman. The guitarist.

"Yes, this is Mr. Dracule Mihawk and his apprentice, Roronoa Zoro."

The guitarist approached Mihawk to shake his hand, "you look familiar."

"Weird, I was going to say the same to you," the agent replied, ironically.

Beckman's mouth twisted into a smirk that quickly faded when the rest of the gang arrived from the hallway. The Red Pirates consisted of Shanks, the lead singer and songwriter, Benn Beckman, his ‘second’ and guitarist, Lucky Red was on drums, and Yasopp played all the instruments and helped write songs.

Mihawk saw Lucky Red and Yasopp disfigure him before practically shaking in fear; they recognized him.

"What is a Shichibukai doing here?" Yasopp asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beckman looked at Mihawk with new eyes, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place, but the old man didn't move away.

"Former Shichibukai," Zoro said with a frown, he had known Mihawk for barely five hours but his instincts were to defend the man who had taken him under his wing.

For his part, Mihawk did not try to defend himself. They were nothing to him. Their opinion of him didn't matter.

"Isn't he in court?" Lucky Red asked this time.

Even though Mihawk didn't have to defend his self-esteem, he still enjoyed instilling fear in his interlocutors and said in an indifferent voice, "I'm not accused of treason like my former colleagues, the Navy hasn’t found anything to incriminate me. Maybe they should have dug deeper."

Zoro glared at him, the youngest didn't want to be fired on his first outing in the field, but Mihawk gave him a small smirk. The Navy hadn't found anything simply because there was nothing to find. Mihawk wouldn't go to extremes and say he was a good man, but he was an upstanding citizen and a loyal agent. He killed people the government pointed out to him, robbed on their behalf, and spied on other countries under the guise of national security. Mihawk had done everything they asked without ever going over the top like his colleagues had. Besides him, only Boa was also blameless, but she was a woman and the media tended to downplay her strength and forgive her more easily. Above all, Mihawk had mysteriously disappeared for a few months following a faulty mission, which did not play in his favor. The media thought he was a coward and tried to flee. Only the government, and therefore the judge, and his parents knew the truth.

A heavy silence fell over the large living room after Mihawk's joke. Lucky Red and Yasopp looked like two rabbits caught in car headlights. One move from Mihawk and they would run and hide in their room like children.

They were saved from the embarrassing moment by the leader of the group who emerged from the hallway complaining, "Guyyyys, I’m still starving where are you…"

Shanks paused at the entrance to the living room watching the two intruders in the penthouse. Although the redhead didn't even seem to notice Zoro's presence since his gaze was locked on Mihawk. His mouth was open in shock and his red eyes were wide. He looked at Mihawk as if he had just seen a ghost from his past - which he did, come to think of it.

Apparently, Rayleigh had forgotten to tell Shanks about the tiny change. Knowing the old bastard, his father probably did it on purpose.

"Mihawk!" Shanks said excitedly before rushing into the room. He stopped inches from Mihawk as if to give him a hug but stopped at the last moment. Either the redhead had remembered that his ex was not a fan of affectionate displays, or Shanks had remembered that he was no longer allowed to touch Mihawk. "It's been a long time! What are you doing here ?"

"He probably came to kill us in our sleep," Yasopp whispered to Lucky Red but Mihawk heard the derogatory remark anyway.

"He's your new babysitter," Law replied sardonically.

Shanks tilted his head as he looked at his ex, "Really?"

"I'm the SSA agent in charge of protecting you," Mihawk replied before pointing at Zoro to distract the redhead's attention from him, "this is Roronoa Zoro. He is an intern at the SSA and will also be looking out for your protection."

A smirk appeared on the redhead's face as his gaze wandered from Zoro to Mihawk and Law, "you're like the Daltons!"

"The Daltons were four," Zoro replied, stopping himself from rolling his eyes at the last second.

"Yeah, but I'd make a fabulous Lucky Luke," Shanks replied with a cheeky smile.

Zoro looked towards Mihawk in a silent request to know if Shanks was in his normal state. Mihawk sighed because unfortunately, Shanks sure was in his normal state: as happy and carefree as before Roger's death.

"More like Rantanplan," Yasopp scoffed.

Shanks turned to his teammate in outrage and betrayal, "Know I would make a very convincing Lucky Luke. Just like him, I shoot faster than my shadow."

"Don't shoot too fast, Cowboy," Mihawk said sarcastically before firing the final shot, "it's not all about speed, some things take time to do well."

Just like that, Mihawk broke the ice with his new customers. Shanks' face turned as red as his hair, he stuttered and his crew laughed at him. After quick introductions, Beck - the old man had asked them to call him that - dragged Lucky and Yasopp out of the living room. Shanks disappeared into the kitchen for a few seconds to 'give some privacy to the Musketeers'.

"He knows there were four of them, right?" Zoro asked.

"A word of advice: don't listen to what comes out of Red's mouth."

"But he is our client. Aren't we supposed to listen to him?"

"Dracule-ya is right," Law confirmed before turning to Zoro, "I'll show you your room, Zoro-ya."

Before Zoro could leave, Mihawk pulled him aside for two seconds, "maybe they're hiding something. Get closer to Trafalgar and try to find out more about what happened last night."

Zoro nodded before picking up his suitcase and backpack and leaving with Law. Looking at them, Mihawk really had a bad feeling.

He was alone in the spacious and majestic living room with his suitcase and two bags. Mihawk hadn't taken much with him since Rayleigh forced him to wear the SSA uniform. Thus, one bag was filled with spare uniforms, the other with equipment in case of combat, and three bottles of expensive wine were hidden in his suitcase. Mihawk looked towards the large sofa and the huge TV before deciding to go to the kitchen. He might as well burst the abscess right away like a bandage.

Mihawk leaned against the door frame while looking at Shanks making himself a sandwich while whistling. In a way, Shanks was exactly like Mihawk had abandoned him eighteen years ago: brimming with life and passion, unable to stay silent for more than two minutes, and still glowing red hair - albeit longer. But Shanks was no longer a teenager with no future. His baby cheeks had been replaced by a hard, square jaw, he had a small beard and three scars over his left eye. Aside from his face, Shanks was also taller and muscular, his perfectly tanned skin showing on his open white shirt.

He feigned indifference by asking, "So Joe Dalton finally managed to hurt Lucky Luke?"

Shanks jumped a little before placing his hand on his chest, he hadn't realized that Mihawk was there until now, "Ray really had to pass on his mania for appearing out of nowhere to you."

Mihawk shrugged. Sneaking up behind people and hiding in the shadows had been his job for nearly two decades. Habits die hard. Although he had walked through the door this time.

"I had a fight with Teach some time after…," Shanks's end of sentence trailed off. They both knew what was left unsaid. "Anyway, do you want a sandwich? I feel like a horrible host."

"No, thanks. Teach is on the list of possible suspects?"

Shanks choked on his sandwich, "my stalker is a fan who probably wants to kidnap me to have babies with me. I really hope Tech isn't behind this."

Now Mihawk understood what had seemed out of place about the Red Pirates. Their last hotel room had been ransacked the night before but neither of them was afraid.

"You seem very relaxed about it," Mihawk remarked.

"The stalker is unfortunately not the first fan of this kind, but most of them are nice and adorable. The hotel room is a novelty, however. I know I can trust, he found this penthouse in less than an hour, and Ray comforted me after I called him. Your old man told me he'd take it seriously and I believe him, especially if it's you he's sending," Shanks shrugged before adding, "I know I'm safe with You."

Mihawk frowned as the "that's what you think" nearly came out of his mouth. Shanks was a fool if he thought he was safe in Mihawk's company. The agent could kill Shanks in just two seconds and make it look like an accident.

"I don't believe what the media says about you," Shanks added as he finished his sandwich.

"Yet they are right about the Shichibukai."

"Maybe, but we grew up together and I know that as long as I'm your mission, I won't risk anything with you."

Shanks had a point and they both knew it.

"I missed you," the redhead said as he walked around the islet to be in front of Mihawk. His smile was gone, replaced by a twinkle of sadness in his eyes. "I had lost hope of ever seeing you again. Having you in front of me after eighteen years is so surreal it feels like a daydream. I never stopped thinking about you."

"It's not reciprocated," Mihawk said firmly as he saw the spark of hope in Shanks' eyes. "I haven't thought of you in years."

"Oh…"

Shanks honestly looked hurt.

"As you so rightly said: you are my mission. I am only here for work and not to rehash old childhood stories. The past must stay in the past."

Who was he trying to convince, exactly?

It took a few seconds for the redhead to register the hurtful words and he nodded slowly, "ok, I get it. I'll pretend like we didn't walk around the neighborhood dressed as Sam and Frodo on Halloween from now on. Two complete strangers. Can I at least take you to your room?"

Mihawk waved for Shanks to guide him the way. He was aware of having been unnecessarily mean to the redhead. They had grown up together and had been friends before they ruined it with feelings. Yet even though he was the one to end things, Mihawk could feel that attraction for the younger one, like a red thread that had been frayed by the weight of their mistakes but still bound them together.

At least the next five months promised to be interesting if Mihawk didn't find the stalker soon.

Chapter Text

When Mihawk had accepted the mission, he had not prepared himself psychologically to have to share his living space with more than six people or to practically have to live in his car. The thing was, Mihawk had standards that didn't include having to sleep in a tight space with other men. So he followed the bus from his Audi to arrive first at the places of accommodation and concerts and thus avoid unpleasant surprises. He was mostly alone except when Zoro joined him so they could take stock of the mission and think about the new information Rayleigh was sending them regularly. There were also times when Law would take Zoro's place to have a moment of peace before returning to the chaos of the bus.

Staying in his car also allowed Mihawk to establish a boundary between Shanks and himself to prove to the redhead that he was only there for work and not to become friends again.

And sometimes, Mihawk had no choice but to give up his precious car to Law and Zoro to enjoy the Capernaum of the bus.

"Why can't I drive?" Zoro asked him as Mihawk handed his car keys to Law.

"Because you have a non-existent sense of direction and can get lost even while following the bus, having the GPS on and with Law guiding you. Also, I care about this car."

"I'm a good driver," grumbled Zoro, sulking like a child.

"You got lost in the bus, Zoro-ya."

Mihawk did not hear the rest of the discussion between the two young men because they had gotten into the car.

He sighed before entering the bus.

The night after the first show, four days ago, Mihawk had given the band the task of giving him a list of people who might blame them without forgetting anyone, even the tiniest speck of dust. They had already released names of contestants, labels, or fans who might be angry enough to threaten the lead singer. Mihawk had forwarded the list before asking the group questions about their relationships. Lucky Red's only love was food but he had a girlfriend for a few months; Beck was married to a young woman from East Blue named Makino; Yasopp had a wife and kid at East Blue too, but Mihawk had caught him hitting on a waitress before; and then there was the elusive Shanks.

Mihawk had never paid attention to the Shin Sekai gossip, the city was the symbol of entertainment and the capital of luxury. He had been there several times for missions and because Doflamingo had a villa there, but Mihawk had never understood the interest of this city. Everything about it was false; the golden sequins were only hiding places for strong socio-economic inequalities; most of the people who lived there were pointless liars. Yet in Shin Sekai, Yonkos were idols or living gods. Some People newspapers were devoted to the lives of the four stars and Shanks, with his beaming, easy-going personality, was their primary target.

So, according to these newspapers, Shanks, despite his pretty face and nonchalant attitude, couldn't keep a girlfriend or boyfriend for more than two or three years. His longest relationship had been with a North Blue model, they dated for four years before Shanks broke up with her when all the reporters were already talking about marriage and babies.

Mihawk was expected to receive a list of ten or twelve people with Shanks' three known girlfriends and two boyfriends. Nevertheless, the list between his fingers was much longer. Mihawk counted quickly and arrived at fifty-two people, men and women alike.

"You said to make a list of everyone we've had relationships with," Shanks defended with a sheepish smile.

"You've been with fifty-two people in eighteen years?"

"In 15 years," Shanks corrected, "and then three-quarters are just one-night stands that I haven't been with for more than a week… or a day. There is a lot of time to waste during the tours…"

"I can see that," Mihawk replied before quickly reading the list of names and being flabbergasted: "a woman in an elevator? A man on a TV show? You don't even know their name?"

Shanks shrugged as he shrunk in his seat. They had settled at the front of the bus where the lounge area was with fairly comfortable sofas. Beck was in the passenger seat with the driver reading a book, while Lucky Red slept and Yasopp mocked Shanks next to them.

Mihawk rolled his eyes before taking a picture of the list and sending it to Rayleigh. While waiting for the answer, Mihawk watched as Shanks threatened to kill his teammate in his sleep if Yasopp continued to openly laugh at him.

007: "Jealous?"

Mihawk locked his phone and put it in one of his jeans pockets so he wouldn't have to answer. He dressed as a civilian when they were not in public so as not to draw attention to himself, but had his SSA card with him at all times. Mihawk felt more like himself dressed in his boots, black jeans, a white shirt with the first three buttons open, and his leather jacket.

He stared at the list as if to memorize all the names or descriptions. Mihawk did not know if he was jealous or not. If it had been another agent in his place, would Shanks have included Mihawk in the list, as if he had been nothing but another of his conquests? A toy Shanks had played with before he got bored and found another in Buggy? Mihawk scanned the list again but Buggy's first name did not appear. Either Shanks didn't see his former friend as a threat, or he had broken ties with Buggy after the infamous night. Mihawk doubted it: Buggy was like chewing gum stuck to a seat. It couldn't be that simple.

"Are you alright, my muse?" Shanks asked him after seeing Mihawk staring at the list for too long.

Mihawk put the paper away with his phone so he wouldn't have to think about it. Why would he be jealous of names on papers that were potential suspects or suspected psychopaths? He was the one who had left and run away from Shanks for almost twenty years. Mihawk had no right to be jealous that Shanks turned to other people to warm his bed.

"I'll be better when you would stop calling me that," Mihawk replied, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"I can not help it. It's the truth,” Shanks retrieved a little green packet from his pocket to mimic Mihawk.

The innocent green packet revealed two things to Mihawk: first, Shanks was a former smoker - which would make sense given his history with addictions - who was trying to fight his urge to smoke; and secondly, Shanks was craving a smoke right now. Did the redhead feel nervous in Mihawk's presence or was it just the conversation?

"Law advised me to take gums to help quit smoking," Shanks said after seeing Mihawk staring at the green packet. "Apparently, I have to be a role model for young people or something like that. It would be easier if my fellow smokers decided to support me in quitting!"

"In your dreams," Beck replied knowing the last part was subtly aimed at him.

Mihawk unlocked his phone and opened his online book app to pass the time while his client bickered with the guitarist.

*☠️*☠️*

"What is the reason that made you have sex with Gol Shanks?"

It was the twelfth time today that Mihawk had asked this question. Rayleigh had hits on most of the names on the lists and wanted to interview everyone to cross them off the list of potential suspects. The old man took care of most, including Shanks’s official partners. But Mihawk, Law, and Zoro still had to help out by interviewing some people on Shanks’s list and fans who had stood out in the past.

"You’re kidding? He is awesome!" said the young woman with blond hair and harmless blue eyes. She must have been under thirty and had a dreamy smile on her face. "He's like The Star, you know? He's handsome, kind, and funny. It was a privilege to go out with him. Most of all," she leaned towards Mihawk and whispered, "he really gives off the Daddy vibe. You know?"

Mihawk crossed her off the list upon realizing that she was neither interested in the money nor wanted to be Shanks' official girlfriend. Mandy had been allowed to have one night with the redhead and that was enough for her. Also, Mihawk couldn't see her hurting a fly. She would have to break a fingernail for that.

He left the room with a sigh, but at least today's interrogation period was over. Mihawk was certain he would have killed the next person on the list had he heard yet another ode to Shanks.

"He sings like an angel…"

"Have you seen this body? Who wouldn't want to have sex with him?"

"I thought I fell in love with him... But Shanks isn't looking for commitment, so I found someone else."

Mihawk had heard enough compliments on his ex for a lifetime.

"It's finally over," Zoro stretched as he spoke, coming out of the room where he had led his own interviews, "this is the fifth person calling Shanks 'Daddy.' What's wrong with them?"

Law shrugged as was waiting for them in the hallway, "you can add two more."

They turned to Mihawk and he added, "make it tenth then."

"Maybe that's a thing then," Zoro said looking up at his mentor.

"How would I know?"

"We know you dated Shanks when you were young…."

"That's in the past," Mihawk said rolling his eyes, he bet Ray had told his little secret to Zoro who repeated it to Law, "and I'm older than Red."

The three agents entered the elevator and Zoro pressed the button to go upstairs while continuing to annoy Mihawk with his former relationship with Shanks. Nevertheless, the young man stopped laughing when they saw the empty hotel room. They had conducted the interrogations in three hotel rooms on the lower floor, ordering the Red Pirates to stay in the room and call them in case of any concerns. What the Red Pirates had figured out was to sneak out while their bodyguards had their backs turned.

But Mihawk understood his lesson. If Shanks wanted to act like a kid, then he would be treated like one.

Mihawk gave orders to find the Red Pirates: Zoro was searching the internet, Law was checking the room for clues, and Mihawk was going around the bars. He started with the hotel one, but the waiters were just preparing the room. He tried his luck in all the bars on the street of the hotel without finding anything. The former spy thought about letting the stalker find and kill Shanks, at least he wouldn't be his responsibility anymore, but Zoro texted him an address where the group had been seen five minutes ago. His young colleague had found a photo on Instagram of a fan with the group members where the name of a bar was tagged.

Shanks was sitting at the bar, two empty beers in front of him, flirting with a dark-haired young man. The rest of his team was deployed in the cozy little bar where pop music was playing through the speakers. Beck was playing a game of cards with strangers, a cigar in his mouth and a whiskey in his hand; Lucky Red ate meat while watching a football match; and Yasopp was playing a game of darts to impress a group of pretty girls. Mihawk ignored the rest of the team to approach the leader who didn't notice him right away.

The dark-haired young man, probably a college student, looked up at the menacing person in front of him and stopped grinning stupidly.

"Leave us," Mihawk ordered coldly.

The dark-haired student retrieved his glass before quickly walking away very far.

"My muse!" Shanks rejoiced, turning to his bodyguard, "sit down and drink with me! Please, Daniel, serve my friend a glass of your best red wine!"

Mihawk sat down though he was still angry, red wine was his weakness and Shanks knew it. At least the redhead hadn't totally lost his mind if he was aware of having done something stupid and was trying to redeem himself.

"Give me your phone and your bracelet."

Shanks obediently obeyed hearing the anger in Mihawk's voice and let him have his way.

"I would ask you to rescind your contract with the SSA if you plan to run away from your bodyguards to drink in a bar,” Shanks tried to defend himself but Mihawk silenced him with a look. "You can play with your life all you want and endanger those of your companions, but leave Zoro, Law, and me out of your little game. If you don't take my job seriously then let me go."

"I'm sorry, Hawky…I don't want you to go."

Mihawk stopped hiding the tracking device in Shanks' bracelet to look at him. Shanks seemed genuinely sorry, except his eyes were clouded in sadness and despair. The redhead thought about something other than this job.

"Life is cruel, you can't always get what you want with a cute smile and puppy eyes," Mihawk replied as he returned the bracelet to its owner.

He began installing the digital tracking device on Shanks' phone.

"Hey! How did you know my password?"

"Putting your date of birth is not very inventive. Above all, that this information is not top secret."

A smirk appeared on Shanks' face before he quietly admitted, "Come on, Hawky, I’m not that stupid. My password is a birthdate, but not mine."

9382.

March 09, 1982.

Shanks was using Mihawk's date of birth as a password.

He handed the redhead his phone, sipped his wine, and muttered, "That still lame."

"I agree to disagree," Shanks chuckled before sipping his beer, "so you found my stalker this afternoon?"

"The only thing Law, Zoro, and I found out is the proportion of your fans calling you Daddy. Any explanation for that?"

Shanks choked and spat out the beer he was drinking as he heard the word "daddy" come out of Mihawk's refined mouth. The redhead collapsed on the ground as a loud burst of laughter escaped his mouth as if the bodyguard had just told the funniest joke in the world.

Chapter Text

There was no logical reason for Mihawk's presence at a drinking game. He had never played a drinking game in his life, even when he was dating Shanks 18 years ago. Mihawk had never seen the point of wasting good alcohol in stupid games where he had to get too close to drunk people. He preferred to drink alone and enjoy his overpriced glass of wine.

However, Mihawk had agreed to participate in this drinking game.

The Red Pirates were spread out in the living room with Yasopp and Lucky sharing a sofa, Beck was sitting in an armchair, and the Captain was lying on the last sofa. The last chair was reserved for the two youngest bodyguards with Law sitting comfortably on an armrest, a drink in his hand.

The knot in his stomach was loosened a little when Shanks offered to take part, a teasing smile on his sinful lips and his puppy eyes shining.

Besides, as much as Mihawk knew that at least one of the bodyguards should stay sober, he didn't want to be alone in his room rehashing the same memories over and over again.

Mihawk nudged Shanks' legs before sitting down next to him.

They played ‘never have I ever’ which allowed Mihawk to discover a lot of things: Zoro took any excuse to drink whether or not he was concerned by the remark; Beck and Shanks had done a lot of illegal mischief before they started the band; and the Red Pirates were determined to find out more about the relationship between their captain and Mihawk. Soon the rules of the game changed and Shanks was bombarded with questions that concerned him as much as Mihawk, but the eldest had no plans to play this game. Instead, he sipped his whiskey, not his drink of choice, but the maple syrup aftertaste added a pleasant sweetness to the dry bourbon, and left the redhead to deal with this mess on his own.

Around midnight, Law walked a sleepy, drunk Zoro back to his room with one of his hands at the bottom of the youngest’s back.

Beck was the third to leave when he received a call from Makino.

And Yasopp playfully nudged Lucky for them to leave too.

At midnight and 24 minutes, Shanks and Mihawk found themselves alone in the living room, a crackling fire in the fireplace, and a bottle of Whiskey between them.

"Okay, it's my turn," Shanks said as he poured whiskey into his and Mihawk's glasses, "why did you accuse me of stealing Roger's bike? It was your idea."

An amused breath left Mihawk's mouth at the old memory. They were 17 and 14 respectively and bored, so Mihawk offered to go for a ride on the Oro Jackson. Nevertheless, Ray and Roger had caught wind of their clandestine ride, and, caught in the act, Mihawk had accused Shanks. The two adults easily believed him and Shanks was grounded.

"Of the two of us, you were the most likely to do mischief and have stupid ideas. So it made sense that it was your idea rather than mine."

"Roger deprived me of access to his motorcycle for five years!" Shanks exclaimed with an outraged laugh and almost spilled amber liquid on the floor.

Mihawk shrugged and took a sip of Whiskey. Shanks inherited Roger's motorcycle when he died. It was a nice bike and he hoped Shanks had taken good care of it.

"Why isn't Buggy on the list?" he asked, for he had no further questions; because of his job, he already knew all about Shanks' life now, and Mihawk had a good enough memory to recall their common past and the fond memories they shared. Nevertheless, this question obsessed him.

Shanks drank instead of answering; it was the rule if one did not want to answer a question.

"You can never stop thinking about work, can you?"

Mihawk shrugged again, "that's why I'm here."

"Well, you're at my command for now, so you have to do what I want: play this game with me. Let's remember the past at least for tonight."

"Alright," Mihawk agreed, seeing the determined look on Shanks' face, "a simple question then: what's it like to be a star overnight?"

Shanks put his empty glass between them to consider the question.

For his part, Mihawk had been asking himself the question for a long time. He wanted to know if he had done the right thing to abandon Shanks eighteen years ago. Maybe to ease his conscience. Maybe to legitimize his act knowing that his departure had been the trigger for the success of the redhead. Maybe to know that at least one of them was fulfilled in his work.

"As if I had finally made it. I mean, it's been my dream since I was a kid, you know? I have never been interested in money or fame. All I wanted was to see a crowd sing the lyrics to a song I wrote," a dreamy smile played on Shanks' lips as he remembered when the crowd sang along with him last night. "Above all, I feel like I make Roger proud. It's silly."

"No, it's not. Knowing him, his smile must be dazzling heaven right now. He's proud of you, Rouge and Ace are too."

Shanks smiled proudly as he thought of the rest of his family who were his biggest supporters, "Being a Yonko also means that all the sacrifices I've made so far have been worth it. All those years of thinking that my dream would never come true, the time wasted working in a garage, and my addictions. It was hard work, but the four rehabs made it worth it," Shanks held up four fingers to prove his point, "but I've been clean for 15 years. I'm surprised you didn't ask for tests to verify."

"Honestly, I first believed you screwed up your hotel room yourself. I changed my mind after reading the folder full of evidence exonerating you. But, ultimately, if you want to screw up your life with drugs then that's up to you, you don't owe me anything. I would have walked away at the slightest trace of white powder, though."

"So the mighty spy didn’t find my secret cocaine stash on the bus?" Shanks asked teasingly with a little nudge and a wink.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, "Is that your question?"

The redhead's red eyes flashed in amusement as he settled back into the leather sofa so he could look at Mihawk, his glass refilled in his hand. The younger thought about his question before asking, "You said you haven't thought about me in years, were you bluffing or is that the truth?"

"It's the truth," Mihawk said, taking a sip of the whiskey, the maple syrup aftertaste helping to soothe the sting of the alcohol. He saw Shanks' sad face out of the corner of his eye and added, "Don't take it personally. I agreed to join the Shichibukai to put geographical distance between us, and then, over the years and the missions, the distance became mental too. I no longer had the luxury or the time to get lost in my thoughts and think about you, or my parents."

Mihawk felt as if he had closed his eyes for a split second in order to forget the image of naked and drugged Shanks from his mind. And then, before he knew it, eighteen years had passed. Mihawk hadn't realized that so much time had passed before he was brutally snapped back to reality.

While tied to a pole in the middle of the Alabasta desert, Mihawk had plenty of time to think about his past mistakes and what he could have done differently. On the days when he felt like he had gone mad or was going to die, Mihawk wished he had confronted Shanks that night, given him one last chance, and refused to join the Shichibukai. But he couldn't go back and change the past then and still couldn't now.

So instead of apologizing or giving Shanks time to bounce back on the subject, Mihawk asked, "if the issue with Buggy is taboo then…"

"Yes, it is," Shanks said playfully, "I've got to preserve a cloud of mystery, or you'll be bored of me."

"...How did you get the scar?"

"What if I had asked Teach to disfigure me, so I’d look cool and mysterious?"

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. He did not believe in this version of the story. Shanks wouldn't have risked dying and leaving Rouge to care of his little brother alone.

"It was after my first rehab, the year you left," Shanks said as his voice sounded detached like he was telling someone else's story. "I wandered aimlessly around the city because I couldn’t bear to be locked between four walls anymore. My feet had a consciousness of their own and took me back to where I was buying drugs to Teach. He was there, as usual, waiting to rob a client like a guard dog. Teach wanted me to buy him something as usual, but I refused."

Shanks paused as a self-deprecating laugh escaped his throat, "He called me a coward and said I wouldn't stay clean for long. I did not react. Was he right or not, what did it matter? Then he insulted Roger's memory, I still haven't reacted. What did Teach know about the incredible father that was Roger? Nothing. He said Buggy laughed at me the last time he came to restock. Even that didn't work, because Buggy was right: I was an idiot. Because Teach only had to mention your name to make my blood boil and have the fight he was looking for.”

"What did he say ?"

"It's not your turn to ask a question, my muse," Shanks mocked with a teasing wink.

"What did Teach say?" Mihawk repeated a little more sternly.

"That he saw you get into a black sedan and you were a prostitute."

"It was probably when Sengoku wanted to talk to me privately," Mihawk defended himself, crossing his arms over his chest.

A few days after his breakup with Shanks, Sengoku approached him to present him the "Shichibukai" project. He said that Mihawk could have his place as valedictorian and for his experience in the SSA of which he had been an honorary agent since he was sixteen years old. Mihawk had refused at first since he already had a job with his father. But the secret project was tempting: more dangerous missions with higher risks and better pay. At that time, Mihawk wanted to break free from his father, find his own way, and put some space between Shanks and him. He had chased a dream that turned out to be a nightmare.

Shanks' voice cut off Mihawk's train of thought.

"We grew up together, Hawky. I knew you weren't a prostitute. In fact, I would have been impressed if, in addition to your master's, the SSA, and me, you had still had time to prostitute yourself. But Teach added that he would pay to hear you moan his name and… I don't know. The wound from the breakup was still fresh and you were my childhood best friend. A bastard like Teach doesn't deserve to say your name out loud. I was the one who started the fight and lost."

Mihawk could well imagine Shanks at twenty, wearing a red sweater, and running towards Teach to start a fight he could never win.

"Obviously, I always had to finish the fights you started."

"I could have won, I was going to win! But I saw too late the brass knuckles with claws that Teach pulled out of his pocket. He hit me with it and let me die in the alley. Rayleigh yelled at me all the way as he rushed through every red light in town to get me to the hospital. He was more terrifying than Teach and his brass knuckles. It was like the time you broke your arm!"

"Ray likes to yell a lot when he's worried. It's his fault that I fell off the roof, by the way; he knocked me off balance screaming for me to get off."

"The old man was probably afraid that Roger would have a heart attack seeing you walking on our roof to get my ball back. I still remember the look on their faces as you balanced by the gutter. This was the funniest moment of this whole unfortunate accident."

"No, the funniest part was when my mom and yours teamed up to yell at them."

"They were sitting on the chairs like two children being scolded!" Shanks laughed way too hard.

"I understand why Ray was afraid of Shakky, but I never knew how Roger could be afraid of Rouge. His hands were bigger than her head."

"You've never seen her angry then, she's scary," Shanks muttered as he took a sip.

They were silent for a few seconds as Shanks searched for his next question and Mihawk waited, recalling the memory. As children, Mihawk and Shanks spent a lot of time playing together as their families gathered for the usual Sunday barbecue.

Shanks wanted to play football that day and Mihawk agreed although he preferred swords to balls. The redhead had kicked the black-and-white ball too hard and sent it over the roof. Unfortunately, the balloon got stuck against the roof opening. Mihawk then promised Shanks to get it back before the younger one started crying. Thus, the oldest had returned inside the house and had accessed the roof through Shanks' bedroom since the ball was stuck just above. Mihawk had climbed the roof to be above the window and collected the ball without incident. Except he had caught the attention of his father and Roger by throwing the ball towards Shanks. Mihawk had slid to the edge of the roof to get back to the safety of the bedroom, but Ray had seen it and yelled at him mostly out of fear that his son would fall. The cry destabilized the child who then lost his balance and fell to the ground.

Even now, Mihawk remembered the sound his bone made after he landed on his left arm and the cry of pure pain that went out of his throat seconds later.

Afterward, the child's brain had been clouded with pain. Mihawk vaguely remembered the trip to the hospital as he sobbed in pain in Roger's lap. Shanks’s dad had cradled him in his big arms to help him calm down. Rayleigh was driving and grumbling in concern. Mihawk had had a cast for three months where Shanks treated him like royalty as he obeyed every request like his valet.

Finally, Shanks came up with a question.

"It’s unfair and creepy that you know my private life better than I do. We have to restore a balance. So, I want you to list all the people you've been with within the last few years. I don't need names, a number will be enough."

Mihawk thought about drinking instead of answering just to wipe the triumphant smile off Shanks' face, but he wasn't ashamed to admit that he hadn't had a sex life as thrilling as his ex-boyfriend.

"I haven't been emotionally or lastingly involved with anyone after you," Mihawk replied without feeling a shred of embarrassment. Early in his work, he had learned to hide his feelings behind a mask and to use what he felt against his interlocutors.

Thus, it was Shanks who felt the shame of asking the question.

"Seriously ?"

Mihawk shrugged, "I had sex here and there with colleagues at the Shichibukai or with security guards from other agencies that I worked with. There was even this time at a reception at North Blue with a spy who was working against the government. The last time was four years ago."

"Four years ?" Shanks repeated, stunned. "Wow, if you want I can get you an abstinence token."

"Don't be mistaken, I didn't take a vow of abstinence. I've been overwhelmed with work for the past few years. I also came to realize all those one-night things were just a waste of time. Finding someone decent, picking them up, and taking them to bed for five minutes of fun isn't worth it. Especially, if the five minutes last less and there is no fun."

"I could show you that having sex is anything but a waste of time," Shanks said proudly with a cheeky smile.

"Don't bother, your conquests have already told me in too much detail how good you are in bed."

Shanks' face turned red, "You must think I'm a womanizer..."

"I have no opinion to offer on how you have decided to live your life."

"But…?"

Mihawk rolled his eyes as he took the bait, "why did you break up with all your old partners? From what I read they were all decent. You could have started a family with them."

"All of my exes were amazing people who I broke up with on good terms. Jessica and Marie have married other men and now have children. John never wants to talk to me again, which is reasonable. And I still have contact with Max and Emma. For the others I never officially dated or stayed long enough to get to know them better… they were just a way to satisfy an impulse."

The youngest finished his drink and put it on his table before adding: "But none of these relationships seemed real compared to the one I had with you. In the end, they were all a way to forget you. Some did placebo for a few years and it was nice to date them since they were easy to love. Except that our relationship was explosive, forbidden at first, and so alive. My heart never beat as hard as when it belonged to you. The only thing that makes me feel more alive than you is when I sing in front of a cheering crowd. Otherwise, everything else is bland, flat, boring to death. I got tired of Jessica, Marie, Emma, Max, and John because they weren't you."

Mihawk looked towards Shanks hoping that his former friend was pranking him and was going to laugh any moment. Except that the youngest's face was serious, his sinful lips were not smiling, and his eyes were filled with feelings just waiting to come out. Mihawk could read love and regret in the red eyes.

It would be so much easier if Shanks hated him.

It would be easier for Mihawk to keep his heart from beating madly in his chest if he had broken up with Shanks eighteen years ago because he had run out of love.

"How do you know what you and I shared was real if everything else seems so fake? Compared to those eighteen years of not speaking to each other, those three years we dated were like a hot vacation by the lake that ended the moment the storm started. Looking back on it, those three years seem so unreal. As if I had imagined them…"

"It was not a dream, Mihawk. I know this because I've never loved anyone else as I've loved you, no one has broken my heart like you," Shanks looked up at Mihawk, his hand over his own heart, "And I know that there is a part of me that has never stopped loving you. I would kiss you to prove it to you if we weren't both drunk and if there was even a chance you could ever feel the same way I do."

Shanks continued to watch Mihawk with hope until he figured out his bodyguard wouldn't respond to his drunk declaration of love and he poured himself another drink.

"Can I ask you one last question? It's very personal and I'll understand if you don't want to answer."

Mihawk frowned upon hearing the hesitation in his drinking buddy's voice. Shanks was not shy and expressed his thoughts without embarrassment. But here, the youngest was playing nervously with his glass. Mihawk agreed, praying that Shanks would change the subject.

Which, unfortunately, was the case.

"Reporters said you ran away when the government shut down the Shichibukai organization. All your colleagues were arrested by the Navy the same night except you and Moria who had disappeared. And then you reappeared four months later. Where were you? I know that you are not a coward and that you would not have fled even if you had been warned of your arrest. The most disturbing thing is that you are next to me instead of being in prison for a hit-and-run. And…"

Shanks' voice became more and more inaudible as if Mihawk was going through a tunnel or drowning in too deep water. He could still hear Shanks talking but from very far away and he couldn't make out a word. Mihawk could feel that his body was still on the sofa of a luxurious hotel room, but his mind was already in another world. A world of pain and heat that belonged only to him and where Shanks didn’t belong.

Mihawk remembered every day, hour, and minute spent tied to a pole in the middle of the Alabasta desert. His arms were tied above his head with simple hemp rope. On the first day, Mihawk had tried to fight the bonds despite his injuries to escape. But he had failed, again and again. Very quickly, he no longer had the strength to fight as the leaden heat made him sweat profusely. William and his men had left him alone on this pole for a week, one of them occasionally brought him a drink because they needed him alive. Otherwise, Mihawk had been left alone with himself, the unbearable heat, the saving cold, and the vultures as his only company.

By day, the sun's rays slowly burned Mihawk's skin, turning his skin red and flaky where the blisters itched every moment. The rays of the sun were the favorite weapon of his jailers.

At night, Mihawk shivered with cold, but he preferred the moon to the sun; the cold to the unbearable heat.

Mihawk's only moments of respite were when his torturers wanted to question him. They then untied the Shichibukai and brought him to a tent. On those evenings, they let him sleep on a mattress sheltered from the sun and the moon, they gave him food and drink, and applied cream to his burns. The most humiliating thing was that they didn't even tie Mihawk who was too weak to move anyway.

Then, in the morning, the torture resumed.

"You look a little thirsty, agent. Give him a drink, guys," William would say before his subordinates plunged Mihawk's head into a tub full of water.

Mihawk never struggled, even when the air left his lungs and water entered his mouth. He preferred the quick death of drowning to the slow, lonely death on the pole. The coldness of the water was synonymous of salvation compared to the alternative.

And then, one day, Mihawk saw a mirage walking towards him as he was dying on his pole. He had believed to see an oasis in the form of a man dressed in creme clothes because of the dehydration. But the oasis had untied Mihawk from the pole and carried him in his arms with great care. Mihawk was sure he was dead when he heard the sound of car engines getting closer. A metallic object disturbed his eternal sleep and Mihawk opened his eyes to see a familiar symbol. With tears in his eyes, Mihawk slowly raised his head to see familiar gray hair, worried brown eyes, and a long scar over a left eye.

"Hey, Mihawk you're shaking," Shanks remarked as he pulled Mihawk closer to him and away from his painful memory.

Mihawk's head fell on Shanks' shoulder who was there, real and solid under him, a soft and pleasant warmth emanating from the redhead. Shanks' right arm rested on the bodyguard's shoulders to keep him close. Mihawk wasn't planning on crying on his ex-boyfriend's shoulder, but he stayed in that position long after his milked body stopped shaking.

"Sengoku gave me a mission," whispered Mihawk in a low voice, ashamed to reveal the truth to Shanks, "I was tasked to keep Doctor Vegapunk safe for seventy-two hours. Sengoku forced me to work with Moria because of the importance of this mission. Sixty hours had already passed without a hitch when Moria offered me a five-minute break while he would stay with Vegapunk."

Mihawk stopped talking, unable to admit out loud his lack of foresight even months later. Would Vegapunk still be alive if Mihawk hadn't accepted Moria's offer? Or would he have been killed too?

"The media talked about it," Shanks said facing his friend's silence. "They said you failed to protect Vegapunk. It is because of his death that the government turned its back on the Shichibukai. They said it was one mistake too many."

Mihawk nodded against Shanks's shoulder.

"Vegapunk was already dead when I returned to the room," the image of the scientist's dead body, a pool of blood beneath him, and apologetic Moria played in his mind and Mihawk tried to drive it away. "I was arguing with Moria when the chaos started, the terrorists who were after Vegapunk smashed the windows and surrounded us with guns. They forced us to surrender, and if they couldn't get Vegapunk, the boss decided we'd be a good substitute."

Shanks' eyes sparkled with concern as his arm tightened around Mihawk, "They kidnapped you? And the newspapers said nothing?”

"What's the point? Someone had to be blamed and Boa is too cute to be demonized by the reporters. Besides, we all knew what we were getting into when we entered government service. Sengoku had warned us that no one would come to save us if we failed and were captured by the enemy. The media is right about us, we are heartless bastards who have satisfied their worst impulses under the pretext that the government employed us. But there was a pretense of solidarity uniting us. If the government wouldn't come to save us, then we would. Between Shichibukai we had two rules: never talk about the organization and always have the backs of others."

Shanks didn't answer and Mihawk continued, "But Moria broke those two rules. The terrorists tortured us for a week to find out who we were. The leader baited us with the promise of freedom and Moria grabbed it, he revealed all the secrets of the Shichibukai and the leader thanked him with a bullet in his head. The leader, William, let Moria's body rot before my eyes to force me to reveal the rest of the government's secrets. I never said anything."

"I believe you," the redhead whispered as if he guessed the last sentence was a plea. "You are the most faithful and strongest man I know"

"I'm not as strong anymore."

Mihawk unbuttoned the last three buttons of his shirt to show Shanks the old burn marks that still marked his shoulders and upper chest. The fingers of Shanks' right hand gently touched a mark and Mihawk stopped himself from shivering. The redhead's touch stirred something in the agent who tried to ignore it.

"I’ve been tortured for a month and a half hoping that one of my companions would come to save me, but they were already in prison at that time. William had sold the informations Moria had given him to reporters. I didn't know that nobody would come."

"How did you escape?" Shanks asked in a small, worried voice.

"Ray didn't believe I was a coward either. He was the only one looking for me. After finding me, the old man killed William and his men and tied them to poles in retaliation. The only reason why the government did not lock me up in prison with the rest of my comrades was because I would probably have died without urgent medical care."

Instead, Akainu, Sengoku's replacement, offered him the same way out as Boa. Mihawk is still set to go on trial as Shichibukai early next year, but he could be a "free" man in the meantime. The agent had signed a release where he swore not to leave the territory or to flee. Mihawk had accepted since he had nothing to reproach himself in front of a judge or a jury, only God could judge him.

"The orange color wouldn't go with your skin tone anyway," Shanks shot back to lighten the mood.

But Mihawk didn't want to lighten the mood, for once he wanted to confess even his worst secret. The only secret that his parents did not know even when they had been at his side from his entry into the hospital to the green light from the psychiatrist.

"I lied to the shrink the government had assigned to me. As Shichibukai, I learned a lot of things: lying, telling strangers what they want to hear, and copying someone else's personality. So it was easy to minimize my injuries and lie in order to get permission to work again."

"Are you fine ?" Shanks asked seriously.

The question went beyond the banal request for politeness. Here, the false yes did not matter. Mihawk didn't have to minimize how he felt to get something. He had never managed to lie to Shanks who always managed to read him like an open book.

"I don't know," and since the alcohol had lowered Mihawk's inhibitions, he added, "it helps to have a mission to focus on and to be with you. I feel like I'm 13 again and paralyzed before my first national competition. You were the only one who noticed it. You said you would protect me if I fell and I believed you."

"I will protect you, my muse. I am no longer a child, these are no longer empty words, you will see."

Mihawk smiled softly when a kiss landed on his forehead. He didn't know if he wanted to believe Shanks' words, if he could believe them given their past, but it was tempting to let someone protect him for once. Mihawk began to doze off as Shanks remained silent and the fire began to die down in the hearth. The overflow of feeling that had followed the rehashing of good and bad memories left him drowsy. Mihawk preferred to focus on the shoulder under his cheek rather than his captivity. Alcohol was not working in his favor - they had definitely drunk to much tonight.

A surprised little noise came from Mihawk's throat when he felt Shanks carry him in his arms like a bride. His eyes flew open and his arms circled the redhead's neck, as his nose was filled with a scent that was inherently Shanks: mint gum, Azzaro, and pen ink.

"What are you doing ?"

Shanks chuckled as he walked down the hallway leading to the bedrooms, "Can you turn off the light? My hands are a little busy."

Mihawk rolled his eyes but obeyed.

"I can walk, you know? I am not a child."

"One thing is certain: You are not funny."

Shanks let go of Mihawk, but before the older man could walk away, he was carried in strong arms again, like a potato sack this time. His face was way too close to the redhead's butt for his liking and Mihawk suppressed the urge to spank Shanks in revenge.

"Shanks ?"

"Yes, my muse?"

"I’m going to unlive you."

Chapter Text

Lights of multiple colors placed strategically on the iron structures of the stalls haloed the night market in a soft light. Every month, merchants from all over the region gathered in the central square of Bighorn to sell their products: fruit, vegetables, jewelry, cosmetics, etc. They hoped that the concert that was taking place at the moment would attract fans who would come to eat afterward. Despite the late hour, the market was filled with children bickering and running, women laughing out loud as they told each other the latest gossip, and men arguing about the latest football game over a glass of alcohol. It was all topped off with the music pulsing from the concert hall a kilometer up the square, some locals singing distractedly along with the lead singer.

The peace of the market was broken by a chase worthy of a Shin Sekai action movie. The first person was smaller and was running faster, a hood and a mask, both black, hid their face. The second person was a handsome man with dark hair and a face pinched in concentration. He wore a gray and black uniform with touches of red here and there. Several women looked at him blushing as the man ran after his target.

The first person walked around a stall that the man easily jumped on, so the hooded person pushed another stall, filled with small carved statuettes, towards the ground to destabilize their pursuer. The children stopped playing when they heard the crash. There was no doubt for the inhabitants who watched the spectacle that the man, whose badge shone on his chest, was going to catch the person running.

Except that it was getting late, that it had rained this morning, and that the cold had transformed the puddles of water into patches of ice. The hooded person turned sharply to the right towards the stalls of old Greg and Mark, two peerless candy makers, while the second had more difficulty turning. The foot of the black-haired man slipped on a patch of ice and instead of turning to the right, the man continued his course in Mrs. Martine's stall. The hooded person took the opportunity to flee far away from the market.

Mihawk groaned in pain as he stood up. It was probably the most ridiculous fall of the agent's career: falling against a stall where tomatoes had rained on him. The bad news was that his suspect was gone; on the bright side, his uniform was now ruined.

"Excuse me sir? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" asked a pretty young woman in her twenties, handing him shyly a handkerchief.

"Did you see where the person went?"

The young woman with red hair and green eyes shook her head. Mihawk sighed before sending a message to Zoro to warn him. He was about to leave when he finally noticed the chunks of tomatoes around him, the menacing looks he was getting from the locals, and the old lady crying for her tomatoes. Mihawk paid for the damage he unwittingly caused. He also gathered the thin testimonies of the people present at the market before leaving. None of them had seen the face of the person under the hood.

The concert was over when Mihawk arrived. Some fans were waiting outside the parking hoping for one last glimpse of the Red Pirates, but their wait would be in vain. By this time, Law and Zoro had already had to escort the group back to the five-star chalet where they would be staying for the rest of the week. Shanks' stalker had finally come forward after two months and even though Mihawk had probably routed the hooded person for the next few days, none of the three agents would bet the group's safety.

One of the city security guards looked at him questioningly and Mihawk shook his head, there was no point in those groupies catching the flu while waiting for someone who wouldn't show up.

The chalet was set back from the town, near the ski resorts. It was a villa extending over four floors: the garage on the level below, the ground floor with a very large entrance and multiple activities -swimming pool, sauna, bar, cinema, etc.-, the first floor with the living areas such as the kitchen and the dining room, and the top floor was reserved for the bedrooms. The cabin was spacious, too spacious for just two bodyguards and Law’s crew, but Rayleigh had checked with the owner about the chalet's protections and decided that the place was safe enough for the Red Pirates to stay there for a few days.

Shanks was sure he would find inspiration for a new single there, and the band planned a five-day break between concerts at the villa. It was probably just an excuse to be able to ski for free.

The whole group, Law, and Zoro were waiting in the spacious hallway when Mihawk exited the elevator. He had taken advantage of the trip to the chalet to call Rayleigh and update him on the situation. Mihawk would have liked the old man to be angry and argue with him like a child for letting the stalker go. Instead, Ray started a video call to see his son covered in juice and chunks of tomatoes, the old man took a screenshot and called Shakky so she could see the state Mihawk was in.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, daring them to laugh; Ray and Shakky had made fun of him enough for a decade.

"Wow, my muse," Shanks began from where he sat on the stairs, "your hair is even redder than mine."

"You had a fight with a tomato, Hawkeyes?" Yasopp added with a smirk.

I work with children.

Only Law and Beck seemed to sympathize and went about their business now that they knew Mihawk was safe.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said, passing Shanks up the stairs.

Zoro smiled as his mentor passed him too, "take all your time, Mr Tomato."

The look Mihawk gave Zoro promised a long and painful revenge.

After running in the cold of the night, a normal person would probably have taken a very hot shower. But not Mihawk. Since his imposed stay in Alabasta, he had difficulty supporting the heat and took pleasure in the cold. That was why he ran through an entire town in a T-shirt. The water Mihawk showered in was barely tepid, just hot enough to prevent hypothermia, but not enough to warm his bones. Mihawk didn't want to be warm after his failure.

It wasn't until chunks of tomatoes splattered on the marble tile in the shower that Mihawk really allowed himself to think about what had happened earlier that night. He wanted to know what he could have done better to catch the stalker but nothing came.

Mihawk, Zoro, and Law had divided up strategic points in the concert hall to keep an eye on the band and the crowd of fans. The panther was backstage, the tiger was in front of the stage, and the eagle was high up. Mihawk and Zoro had switched positions last month after an embarrassing moment: after their drunk chat the night before, Shanks dedicated the band's final song to "someone very special in the room" by singing a new version of "my better self." The pop song made for dancing had been transformed into a love ballad for the occasion. At first, Mihawk hadn't paid attention until his gaze connected with Shanks who was singing at the edge of the stage. Suddenly, nothing mattered. It was as if there were only Shanks and Mihawk left in the concert hall and the song was made for the older one. But then Shanks looked up and finished the song with a cheeky smile on his face.

Mihawk had then brutally realized that Shanks no longer belonged to him, but to the crowd behind him.

Towards the end of this concert, Law had warned Zoro and Mihawk that he had seen a suspicious person prowling near the private room reserved for the group. The suspect got scared and fled into the heart of the concert hall where Zoro tried to chase them. Mihawk easily spotted his student and the fleeing hooded person. He had taken over hoping to corner them on the stairs but had failed. Above all, Mihawk would rather chase after the suspect himself than have to search for Zoro after the young man got lost in the city.

Mihawk could recognize that he no longer was the same overtrained agent since his capture, he was just a forty-year-old man still recovering from mental and physical injuries. The person under the hood would have easily outrun him if Mihawk didn't have good cardio.

He got out of the shower before remembering his fall.

It was almost half past midnight when Mihawk came out of his room. He was thirsty and had no intention of sleeping soon. Knowing the nocturnal rhythm of his comrades, they too were not sleeping; Lucky and Yasopp had to watch a movie in the movie theater and Beck had to be in the pool or gym with Zoro. Except that in the hallway, Mihawk saw that the light in Zoro's room was on. He entered the room after knocking in the hope of being able to analyze what had happened that evening with his subordinate but was more than taken aback to find him in bed with Law. The young bodyguard and the security guard were both naked. Mihawk exited the bedroom before seeing more.

Zoro joined him a few seconds later, dressed only in shorts. His cheeks were flushed and his expression filled with embarrassment.

"I can explain…I…we…You ordered me to keep an eye on him so… "

"That wasn't exactly what I meant, but you sure deeply followed my order," Mihawk said to keep Zoro from getting engulfed in his embarrassment.

"Are you going to tell Mr. Silvers about it? My relationship with Law does not interfere with my duty, I swear. I care about this job."

Mihawk sighed, he didn't intend to call Rayleigh and warn him of Zoro's lack of discernment. Law was not a client of theirs, just an employee like them. If Law and Zoro had decided to have fun in their room, that was up to them. Mihawk had doubts seeing them interact, the touches that lasted too long, the languorous looks, but otherwise, the two young people had always acted professionally. They were young and probably in love. Mihawk was old enough and had enough doomed relationship experience to know that their relationship would be filled with obstacles and he didn't plan on being one.

"Have you thought about the future?" he asked instead.

"The future?" repeated Zoro without understanding.

"You wanted to know why I broke up with Shanks so many years ago. Here is the answer: I thought about my future. I decided to leave when I realized that Shanks would stop me from accomplishing great things and maybe looking back, I was the brake of his career," Mihawk pointed to the five-star chalet they were staying in to show that this was not the kind of luxury they could ever pay with their salary as bodyguards.

Maybe at the time, they were both holding each other back from accomplishing great things. Perhaps Mihawk's departure had allowed them both to become the people they were destined to be: an assassin-turned-bodyguard and a global star. Maybe Mihawk had to fail for Shanks to succeed. Maybe Mihawk had been right to leave, not for himself, but for Shanks. The redhead clearly hadn't needed him to succeed.

"What if you had stayed?" Zoro asked crossing his arms over his chest. "What if you fought for your relationship?"

Mihawk shrugged, he had no power to go back and change his decision.

"If things are serious with Law then ask yourself the right questions: are you going to leave the SSA and join his agency? Would Law be willing to quit this job to stay with you? Does your relationship have a chance of surviving until spring arrives? And if it's just a game, then protect your heart and be a gentleman, don't break his. Otherwise, I'll break your legs."

"Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

The beginning of a smile appeared on the older man's face, "if Law breaks your heart, I'll break him to pieces and no one will ever see him again."

Then Mihawk let Zoro go back to whatever Law and him were doing naked together and went to the kitchen. During the day, a butler had prepared a meal worthy of a restaurant listed in the Michelin guide. But the butler was probably sleeping right now. Mihawk almost got lost in the giant high-tech kitchen but he ended up finding the essentials for his survival: a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and a crystal glass. The kitchen had its own terrace that went around the chalet and Mihawk took advantage of the fresh air to drink peacefully. The agent's shirt was a useless protection against the cold but Mihawk didn't notice as he was lost in thought.

His failure tonight had brought back bad memories of another failure, which took place not so long ago. He saw Vegapunk's bullet-riddled body again. The initial shock had paralyzed him for a few seconds before Mihawk ran towards the scientist with the hope that the man was still alive. The bullet in the head of the doctor had destroyed all his hopes.

"What happened?" he had asked Moria who was standing a few feet away.

The death of Vegapunk was technically impossible. Mihawk had eyes all over the country house. Each access was protected by traps that Mihawk had designed himself, it was impossible for anyone to have passed through without the Shichibukai realizing it. He had been betrayed. It was the only logical explanation.

"What did you do ?"

Mihawk shuddered involuntarily thinking about what happened next. He drank his first sip of red wine as memories raced through his head: the sound of a loaded gun, his traps exploding the windows, and men dressed in black surrounding them with assault rifles in their hands.

Moria had his hands up in surrender before Mihawk could start a fight, forcing him to do the same as the alternative was to fight alone.

The first week was filled with torture, pain, and questions.

"Who are you ?"

"Who sent you to kill Vegapunk?"

"Your friend has already told us the truth…"

Mihawk knew each torture technique from reading about it in books, being taught about it during his training as a Shichibukai, being tortured, and torturing enemies of the government. He had never spoken even when William threw Moria's lifeless body into his cell.

"Don't be so stubborn, Hawkeyes, or do you prefer Mihawk? We are among friends after all," to show his good faith, William gave Mihawk a diary.

His golden eyes widened when he saw his face in the newspaper as well as those of his colleagues. The government had just turned on the Shichibukai, though the purposely chosen article didn't mention what had happened to Mihawk’s comrades. He held out hope that Crocodile or Doflamingo were on the way. Otherwise, he would lose all hope of surviving.

But no one had come.

And slowly, Mihawk had lost hope of being rescued. He had come to his senses after being tied to a pole again in the sweltering heat. No one would come and for good reason, Mihawk had kept everyone at a distance for years.

The only thing that had kept him from going crazy was the little moments of rest where William's men drowned him in a sink in the hope of making him talk. They had a little radio CD with a ton of covers on the side. Karma had a funny way of mocking Mihawk since William decided that Shanks' voice was a perfect fit for the situation. Without knowing it, the leader had made his only mistake. Mihawk had clung to the voice playing in the background while he was being drowned, as if it was his lifeline, as if Shanks might magically appear and save him. When he was alone, the redhead's voice filled the too-thick silence of the desert and allowed Mihawk to dive into the memories of a happy past : them playing together in the garden, their pranks to Ray and Roger during April Fool, wearing matching costumes on Halloween, their first kiss, their first "I love you", and all those times they saw each other on the sly to do things that best friends aren't supposed to do together.

Ultimately it was perhaps because Shanks had been his salvation during this hell that Mihawk had accepted this mission. He owed Rayleigh his rescue and Shanks for keeping him sane. Also, Mihawk hoped that Shanks could save him from those memories again. So far, only the cold seemed to work.

Mihawk returned inside the chalet after sending a joke to his father.

Me : "What did the other veggies say to the tomato after they passed him in a race ?"

007 : "wait"

007 : "I don't know"

Me : "Looks like you need to ketchup."

007 : "Nice one 😂"

Mihawk felt nostalgic tonight, ok?

He was about to go back to his bedroom hoping to find some sleep there when he saw light coming from the living room, but no noise. It was suspicious enough that Mihawk went to check. The scene before him was incredibly familiar. Shanks was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, a gray pencil in his mouth, and headphones over his ears. Corpses of leaves rolled into balls had been tossed carelessly around the room. Shanks had left his guitar on the couch.

Mihawk knew he should let Shanks work quietly but he was left paralyzed in the middle of the living room. The scene brought back memories of the makeshift studio at Shanks' childhood home when they worked together on two different things: the redhead on his songs and Mihawk on his homework. Above all, it had been a long time since Mihawk had seen that version of the redhead that had always been his favorite: the one where Shanks was lost in his creative world and nothing could distract him from the sheet of paper in front of him.

The redhead was an energetic and cheerful person, who laughed easily, spoke loudly, and whose personality took up a lot of space, yet there was a serious, calm, and deep side to this personality that Shanks let very few people see. Mihawk had always been one of those chosen few and with the breakup, he had mistakenly believed the redhead would never let him see that side of him again. Mihawk had clearly been wrong.

Shanks sighed as he crumpled up the sheet he was working on before tossing it behind him. Mihawk caught it before the paper hit the ground and threw it back to the redheaded. The ball of paper touched the back of Shanks's head, who jumped in fear. Shanks must not have expected the ball of paper to strike back.

He took off his headphones, turned to see Mihawk behind him, and a smile eased his features drawn with frustration at not finding the right words: "Sit with me instead of spying on me from behind."

Mihawk sat down on the white corner sofa that took up half the room. Mihawk and Shanks could stretch out on the sofa and there would always be room for a third or fourth person. The living room was large enough to be able to accommodate a second sofa of the same size. A long bay window gave a perfect view of the snow-capped mountains of the ski resort.

"Tell me something to take my mind off things," Shanks begged him, abandoning his fruitless work to concentrate on his bodyguard. "I'm going to throw myself off my bedroom balcony if this song keeps resisting me. Although it will continue to haunt me even in death."

"The snow will cushion your fall."

Shanks' red eyes narrowed, a sign that the younger one had just had a stupid idea, "I should try then!"

"I caught Law and Zoro in bed together."

The news completely changed the ideas of the redhead who was far too excited by the revelation. Mihawk felt like he was back in high school and gossiping about people in his class to Shanks.

"A secret relationship! It's so cute! They are like Romeo and Juliet!"

"They die at the end."

Shanks ignored this literary reminder and focused on the most important: "Do they love each other? Which one do you think is top? Like Zoro is more muscular, but Law has this somewhat dominating look at times and he is older. Did you tell them to end their relationship? Zoro is going to be fired?"

"Shanks…," Mihawk chided with a soft smile, "don't bother them."

The youngest pouted before promising to leave Zoro and Law alone.

Mihawk shuddered as he felt the red eyes scrutinize him for something. Without saying a word, Shanks pulled off the red hooded jacket he was wearing with nothing underneath and handed it to Mihawk.

"I can see you're cold" the redhead said to the silent question. "You shouldn't be outside without a jacket. It's cold and you're going to get sick."

"I'm not cold."

"Of course and I am the head of the world government. Just put the jacket on, okay? You look like a corpse and I can feel the cold coming from you."

Mihawk ended up grabbing the jacket and wearing it. The jacket was warm and smelled just like Shanks which shouldn't soothe Mihawk so much and yet the simple red jacket managed to drive away the shame of failure he had continued to feel thus far. Except that no judgment or anger was visible on Shanks's face who smiled triumphantly seeing the older one in his jacket. The redhead was shirtless but the living room was heated by radiators hidden under the floorboards. Also, Shanks probably hadn't showered in tepid water and spent more than an hour gazing at the snowy scenery from the terrace like Mihawk had just done. Mihawk hadn't realized until now that he was freezing.

Shanks stood up as if prompted by a sudden thought and held out his hand to Mihawk, "Dance with me? maybe it will help me get an idea for the song."

Mihawk frowned but accepted the outstretched hand. He was cold and Shanks radiated warmth; he felt nostalgic and Shanks was the only remnant of his past present in the room; he was tired and lost in his mind. Mihawk didn't know that excuse was the best to cover up the fact that the dance proposal was tempting.

The two exes faced each other where there was the most room in the living room, between the bay window and the couch, and Shanks slowly grabbed Mihawk's right hand in his as if to give him a chance to step back. When it was clear that the agent also wanted this, Shanks placed his left hand on the small of Mihawk's back to pull him closer. Mihawk's remaining hand settled on the redhead's shoulder in silent agreement to let him lead the dance.

They began to move in perfect synchronization, one step forward, one step back, their gazes fixed on each other in silent challenge.

"There's no music," Mihawk muttered, becoming hyper-aware of his body inches from the redhead's.

"We don't need music. It would only camouflage the melody that unites us," Mihawk frowned and Shanks teasedly asked, "Can’t you hear it? The melody of our hearts beating in unison."

Mihawk looked away when he felt his cheeks turn pink; the cold was not to blame this time around. He gazed at the calm, timeless, snowy landscape above Shanks' shoulder. It was always better than looking at the redhead's face. Shanks had never known how to hide his emotions behind a mask: anger, sadness, joy, and all other feelings were easily visible on his face. Here, Shanks was looking at him with so much love that Mihawk couldn't stand it.

He was only here for work and nothing else.

Shanks picked up the pace of the dance to refocus Mihawk on him. The younger man moved Mihawk away from him to make him spin before bringing the bodyguard closer a second later. They faced each other again after their bodies suddenly met. Mihawk could feel the redhead's warm hand on his lower back, and the tiny space between them. He wouldn't even have to bend over to kiss Shanks if he wanted to. Maybe the dance proposal was just a trap in the end.

Shanks' voice brought Mihawk back to reality: "I never apologized for the hurt I caused you, did I?"

Mihawk looked at Shanks in surprise at this out-of-the-box question. The seriously spoken question brought him back to a hastily written word on a used piece of paper, to a vision of betrayal, to a night when he was heartbroken by the person whom he trusted the most, his boyfriend, his best friend since childhood, and his only confidant. Mihawk never understood how much he lost that night until now.

"I didn't want to believe it when Rouge told me you were there that night and left after going down to the cellar. I didn't want to believe you saw me like this. That's no excuse, but you weren't supposed to see that. I never meant to break your heart or hurt you. My first instinct was to run to your house and beg you to forgive me, to promise you that I would be better for you. But Rouge forced me to clean the studio first and that's where I found your note. It made me realize that I had to be better for myself and not for someone else if I ever wanted you back."

They continued to slowly dance around the living room as Shanks revealed what had been on his mind for eighteen years.

"I knocked on your doorstep a few days after finishing my first rehab hoping that would be enough to get you back. I felt my heart break a second time in my chest when Shakky told me that you left and that you might not come back. I went to rehab a second time, then a third, and almost failed again after the fourth. I was going to smoke cannabis when I met Beck and he agreed to be my mentor. He helped me refocus on the music and write down what was on my heart. It's as if I needed to relearn what I already knew. That I took music and you for granted but that I had to lose you both to understand what you meant to me, ironic, right?"

Mihawk didn't respond as he focused on the calloused hand in his, the solid shoulder under his fingers, and the soft white carpet under his bare feet.

It was easier to listen to what Shanks had to say than to share what was on his mind.

"I don't call you my muse to make fun of you, Hawky. You truly are my muse. The first single that made me famous was about you, about us. From our friendship to our relationship and the breakup. Thinking about you and what we had, the bad as much as the good, always allowed me to be brutally honest about how I felt and the fans love it. There is always a song for you in the albums. In fact, I have two notebooks full of songs about you. Beck and the others love to make fun of me for them, it's weird that they didn't tell you about it. But ever since you've been back with me, so close and yet so elusive, I can't seem to find inspiration. What I write seems so bland in comparison to having you around."

Mihawk was beginning to understand why Shanks had asked him to dance. The composer hoped to find new inspiration by having him in his arms the time of a dance. Mihawk didn't know if he should be flattered or not that Shanks dedicated so many songs to him. It was the same songs that had allowed him to go through more than a month of hell.

"I left because I was afraid of what would happen if I stayed," whispered Mihawk who was not used to admitting his feelings to anyone. The last person he had lent his heart to had shattered it into a thousand pieces. "I was afraid to go back on my decision and go back to you if you asked me. It would have destroyed us both. Staying together prevented us from spreading our wings to reach the glorious futures we dreamed of. Above all, I was afraid that you would abandon me if I asked you to choose between Buggy and me. So, I left first."

For the first time since the dance had started, the two went out of sync and Shanks stumbled.

"Mihawk…," the redhead began in dread.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Mihawk asked, leading Shanks into a new slow dance. "You wouldn't have chosen me if I had given you the ultimatum. At the time, Buggy offered you what you needed: vice, debauchery, and the drive for illegality and danger. When I was only a remnant of a too-painful past. Besides, we both know I would never stoop to giving you an ultimatum."

"Buggy represented what I thought I needed," Shanks nuanced as he tightened his grip on Mihawk as if to stop the older one from leaving again. "I didn't want to be saved and Buggy was not a savior, but the demon on my shoulder. He was upset for a while after I chose Marco as my agent for the band over him. Except Buggy never leaves for long. He came back into my life over and over again until Beck kicked him in the ass every time."

"How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Five years," Shanks replied, frowning. "If I did not add his name to the list it is because he would have taken the opportunity to come back into my life and stayed there as long as possible to enjoy my money and my glory. I want to keep him as far away from the group and me as possible. Also, I know it's difficult for you to be here with me. I didn't want to add to it by imposing the presence of Buggy on you."

Mihawk was surprised by Shanks' thoughtfulness of him. The redhead could have taken revenge and done so many things to make life impossible for Mihawk. But Shanks had never taken advantage of it and had been more than a decent host.

They shared a look, their bodies finally coming together and their chests touching. Mihawk wrapped both his arms around the redhead's neck, his fingers playing with strands of red hair, as he felt Shanks' hands mapping his arms, back, and ribs. A hint of sadness appeared in the red eyes when he felt Mihawk's ribs and spine all too clearly – he had lost weight and muscle during his captivity.

"Forgive me, my muse. For all the harm I've done to you. For not fighting for us. And not to have returned sooner."

They continued to dance, or rather, cluging to each other, for a few more minutes where Mihawk could feel Shanks' breath against his ear, a solid body against his, and wandering hands resting on his back, arms, the back of his head...

And then, inspiration suddenly struck the youngest who moved away from Mihawk to return to his old position: sitting in front of the coffee table with a pen in his hand. Anyone else would have been offended by Shanks' abruptness, but Mihawk was used to his ex's quirks. Shanks had an insane ability to jump from one task to another forgetting to finish the first one. It had already played tricks on him when they were children : Shanks would start emptying the dishwasher before he got a new idea and left without finishing the task Rouge had given him. The redhead had the mental focus of a five-year-old child, he would even forget his name when he saw a cute animal.

Mihawk lay back on the couch to keep an eye on Shanks who was in a creative frenzy. He watched the younger one write a new song before his eyes until his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

"I had a brilliant idea during the night!"

Mihawk sighed tiredly at Shanks' overflow of energy. He tried to regain his mental faculties by chaining the cups of coffee, but for now, the insomnia of the day before continued to slow him down. Mihawk had fallen asleep around four in the morning and had been awakened five hours later by Law and Beck passing through the living room on their way to the kitchen. There, the guitarist and security chief had stopped talking upon seeing the singular sight of Mihawk and Shanks sleeping in the living room. The older of the two had fallen asleep on the sofa, dressed in the redhead's jacket and covered with a thick blanket, while the younger was leaning against the sofa, his head tilted back and snoring slowly. Their faces were very close.

Beck was the first to come out of his torpor and tried to be discreet as he crossed the living room, but Mihawk was a light sleeper and awoke with a burst. The sudden movement woke Shanks who struggled to find where he was and why. He had quickly stood up, embarrassed to be so close to Mihawk now that the sun was high in the sky.

They headed for the kitchen where they were joined a few minutes later by the rest of their motley group. Shanks had recovered his energy first, probably because he had never had time to fall into a deep sleep and passed out around five in the morning after finishing his song. Nothing had been able to stop the composer in his creative moment except Mihawk who was shivering with cold in his sleep, muttering incomprehensible things. The redhead didn't know enough about the agent's past to wake him up and preferred to cover him with a blanket. He watched over him here and there during the writing process for inspiration and worried that the cover wasn't enough.

Despite his lack of sleep, Mihawk was still very aware of his surroundings and easily noticed that Shanks' amused gaze was fixed on Zoro and Law. He was beginning to regret having revealed the secret of the two young people to the redhead.

"What?" Zoro asked defensively.

Shanks shrugged as he drank his coffee, "Nothing."

But the redhead was a bad liar and Zoro, suspicious, turned to his mentor and asked in an accused tone: "You tell him?"

Mihawk did not respond to the accusation and instead scrolled through the news on his phone.

"Tell me what?" Shanks asked trying, and failing, to sound innocent.

The rest of the group listened to the exchange while sharing confused looks, none of them knowing what Shanks and Zoro were talking about. Except Law who glared badly at the redhead. Beck looked from Zoro to Law, then to his friend before understanding:

"They are dating each other?"

"No!" Law and Zoro refuted, but Shanks exclaimed "yes!" at the same time.

"You're impossible…" Zoro mumbled as he and Law were the center of attention now.

Law was about to leave dragging Zoro with him as the members of the Red Pirates questioned them about their relationship when Shanks abruptly changed the subject.

"I had a brilliant idea last night! What if we set a trap for my stalker instead of patiently waiting for them?"

Mihawk locked his phone and put it on the table. He himself had thought of setting a trap for the stalker to get them out of hiding, but he was a bodyguard now instead of a secret agent and his ideas of traps -mostly deadly and painful- would not have been well received by the group. He raised an eyebrow as Shanks had just piqued his curiosity.

"What trap exactly?" Law asked, secretly glad he didn't have to be the center of attention anymore.

"Well, we know that my stalker wants me and that he or she is quite possessive. Do you remember the note written in the hotel room? ‘You are mine’ was clearly a threat, right? So, we could annoy them a little by setting a trap."

Mihawk didn't like the way Shanks suddenly looked at him.

Beck nervously pulled out his box of cigars, he wasn't sure he liked his teammate's plan, "You want to date someone to inflame your stalker's anger?"

"Exactly, Beck!"

"Except you would be putting that person in danger. No sane person would risk their life for you."

Instead of being miffed that Yasopp doesn't believe in his plan, Shanks' smile widened, "but that person will for sure agree precisely to protect me. It's his job to keep me safe and stop my stalker. Besides, a little stalker isn't going to scare you, is it, Mihawk?"

Mihawk rested his head in his hand, he could feel a headache forming more Shanks was talking nonsense that made a lot of sense. That was the crux of the matter: Shanks was right. Mihawk was tired of playing defensive and waiting for the stalker to throw himself into his arms to get caught, he wanted to go on the attack and the redhead's idea was actually quite clever. Mihawk just regretted that it was up to him to have to play this role.

"That makes a lot of sense," Shanks said as his companions remained dubious. "It would be easy to make journalists and therefore the stalker believe that Mihawk and I are in a relationship since the story is already written: two childhood friends who fell hopelessly in love before tragically separating. Of course, I have no problem revealing the part of the story where I cheated on you, Hawky. The only time we have to lie will be for the reunion. We could say that we reconnected eighteen years later by chance. The best part is that we won't have to lie most of the time!"

"Except that you seem to forget that I am not in honor of holiness among journalists. They hate me for a good reason: I'm a former Shichibukai. Your career is going to take a hit."

Shanks shrugged before turning to his teammates. They were a group and such a decision had to be made by mutual agreement. None of them complained about this potential drop in the popularity rankings.

"I could still come out with the truth once the stalker is caught," Shanks finally said, staring at Mihawk with a small smile.

Mihawk sighed before accepting.

*☠*☠*

It started with a live Instagram on the band's page. They started small, sneak peeks here and there of Shanks' new relationship in order to ignite the gossip and let fans put two and two together.

Here, Yasopp was doing a live show presenting the chalet the Red Pirates were staying in for the weekend. He had shown only his bedroom on the top floor, the living room on the floor below which was still in the state in which Shanks had left it the day before - the balls of paper and the guitar were still there - and Yasopp presented each room on the ground floor. Fans could see Beck, shirtless, training with a punching bag, Lucky Red playing in a small arcade, and the leader splashing around in the pool with a mysterious dark-haired man.

Mihawk had his back to the camera as he was pressed against the pool wall by Shanks. Their proximity and their lack of clothing - except for bathing suits - made him uncomfortable. As he was surrounded by Shanks, Mihawk had to show composure not to push him back. He knew only too well the image they sent back to the eyes of thousands of people: that of a couple taking advantage of the warm water of the swimming pool to share a moment of complicity.

It is for the mission. It's just a staging. Do it for the mission. You arrest the stalker, the judge clears you, and then you go live in Greenland.

"Do you remember when we broke into the municipal swimming pool?" Shanks asked him, whispering in his ear. The younger had noticed that Mihawk was tensed against him and wanted to help calm him down. The staging had to look real after all.

"We? It was Roger's idea and Ray unlocked the door, and they made us follow them. They were true examples of good parenthood."

Shanks laughed, "and then they complained about me when I was just following their model? They were worse."

"Definitely, Garp, a vice admiral in the Navy, has very bad memories of them."

"Navy?" Shanks repeated with an admiring pout, "wow, what did they do?"

"Why would I tell you? I have leverage on you now."

"Oh, are you playing the enigmatic spy card now? That's mean and a low blow," Shanks threw water at Mihawk’s face while smiling.

Quickly, Mihawk grabbed the back of Shanks' head and pushed him underwater for barely a second. The red hair was wet when Shanks popped his head out of the water, a surprised expression on his face, and his eyes promising even worse revenge.

"You shouldn't have done that," Shanks mumbled as drops of water ran down his face, his index finger pointing at Mihawk's face who caught it easily.

"Threatening the enigmatic spy, really?"

But Yasopp cut them off in their new game by kneeling by the pool, "the live is over and you're already on Twitter, come see."

Mihawk was out of the pool before Yasopp could finish his sentence.

The agent's mind was swirling with ideas to lure the stalker into the trap they were setting for them. Mihawk was made for action, not waiting. He loved coming up with a plan, planning out all possible endings, and preparing for the worst to achieve his goal: to stop the stalker and save Shanks. Along with Law, Zoro, and the Red Pirates, they used the week off to give celebrity reporters something to speculate on until the end of the year.

Instead of officially declaring Shanks and Mihawk's relationship, they wanted to set the pressure and increase the intrigue by intentionally dropping clues here and there. It had worked perfectly. An hour after the live, screenshots of Shanks having an intimate moment with a stranger were already all over Twitter and fans were debating who the second person was and whether it was serious or just a game. Then, Lucky Red posted a photo on his Instagram page where the group was in ski gear and Shanks had his arm slung over the shoulders of the same stranger. The next day, Shanks posted a photo of him getting ready to share a meal with an "old friend" by the bay window in the living room.

The apotheosis or curtain raiser was strategically set up the following week when they were in another city. Shanks asked Mihawk on a fake date at the older man's favorite restaurant. Mihawk was certain that the redhead had set a trap for him when he realized that the Italian restaurant had been privatized, so they were the only customers, and that their meal had already been planned: a floating island on tomato soup, veal risotto with orange, and lemon tiramisu, obviously accompanied by the most expensive wine on the menu. Shanks shrugged at the suspicious look Mihawk gave him and invited him to eat. Paparazzies warned by an anonymous source were waiting for them at the end of their false-real date.

It was easy to fake it with Shanks. Maybe too easy. To strut on the arm of the redhead and be seen smiling in his company, a coffee in hand while the other enjoyed his vanilla ice cream. Of being forced to take pictures of Shanks and his fans, answering questions about his romance with the star, and using his boyfriend's credit card to buy expensive costumes – at least Mihawk didn't have to wear his SSA uniform anymore, which made Zoro jealous. It was harder to ignore derogatory comments. According to Rayleigh who had a team analyzing social media, no one suspected the "Redhawk" relationship was fake, but the fanbase was split between fans who found them "too cute" and those who passionately hated Mihawk.

Shanks had shared with a TV show host how he had reconnected with Mihawk. Rayleigh and the redhead had agreed on the side of the story without taking him into their confidence. The two wanted to take the opportunity to clear Mihawk's name and make his life a little easier with reporters by boosting his popularity rating. So Shanks had said that he and Mihawk were "making up for lost time" – the redhead had embellished this sentence with a little knowing wink – during the months when the former Shichibukai had mysteriously disappeared. The story was convincing enough for the host and the rest of the population to believe it.

Two childhood best friends and former lovers who gave each other a second chance after eighteen years.

Even Mihawk had begun to believe it.

As a fake boyfriend, Mihawk had to accompany Shanks on certain festivities. The Red Pirates had a concert at Shin Sekai the next day, but that night they were invited to the premiere of the movie where Ace was starring. Shanks was obviously there to support his little brother and as a distinguished guest. Mihawk had been invited by Ace, although he would have attended the event in a more discreet way than walking the red carpet hand in hand with Shanks, and with Rouge and Ace at their sides. As he got out of the limo, he was dazzled for a second by the flashes of the cameras shining on them. Some journalists asked them questions, one of which kept coming back: "Ace, do you support your brother's relationship with a former Shichibukai?" But Ace was probably their biggest fan, after Ray, Shakky, and Rouge, and always replied, "As long as I can remember, Mihawk has always been part of the family, it's about time my big brother makes it official."

Each time, Mihawk would glare at Ace who would answer him with a teasing wink. The two had a special relationship, a bit like cousins. Rayleigh and Shakky had remained close to the Gol family after Roger's death, and Ray had taken his role as godfather to heart. So the few times Mihawk visited his family, he always went to say hello to Rouge, after making sure Shanks wasn't around, and help them out whenever he could. Two years ago, Ace wanted to travel the world enjoying a gap year before going to college. Rouge had failed to dissuade him, and she had asked Mihawk to keep an eye on her son. He had accepted and had to ask to change his schedule with his colleagues to watch over Ace between two missions. Mihawk had won Ace's heart by obtaining backstage tickets to a concert of Whitebeard, the young man's idol.

It was thanks to these tickets that Ace had started to make himself known since Whitebeard took him under his wing and left the first parts of his concerts to Ace. Rouge had threatened to kill Mihawk since Ace never went to college, but she thanked him earlier that day for helping her son become the man he wanted to be.

On the red carpet, Mihawk pulled away when the paparazzi begged Shanks and Ace for a family photo with Rouge. The agent kept tabs on the family, as he remained Shanks' bodyguard. Mihawk wore an earpiece at all times to stay in touch with Zoro and Law. His golden gaze remained focused on Shanks even if he could feel his heart beating faster in his chest. Not only did Shanks look great in his costume despite his hair being styled in a man-bun, but being the center of attention made him glow.

Since the start of the mission, Mihawk had noticed how much Shanks had changed. The youngest had flourished in the spotlight like a sunflower that was drawn to the sun. Far from being a diva, Shanks had kept his feet on the ground. The redhead was kind to the fans and always took the time to talk to them and take pictures with them – much to the chagrin of Law and the other security guards; he was charming and teasing with journalists; and Shanks kept his composure at all times even when his past as a drug addict was brought back to the table. It was for all of his reasons and more - charity work and coaching new generations like Luffy, his protege - that Shanks was a Yonko and the "rising star" of Shin Sekai. His haters were rare as Shanks had no problem playing up his qualities and admitting his flaws.

"Excuse me, Mr. Dracule?" asked a timid voice behind him.

Mihawk turned to see a man barely eighteen years old, big geek glasses on his nose, pink hair and cheeks were red for daring to call out a former Shichibukai. He was the first brave enough to interview Mihawk now that Shanks was gone.

Although surprised to be interviewed now, Mihawk remained polite so as not to scare him: "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Coby and I would like to write an article for an assignment at my university. Could you answer a question or two? As a childhood best friend you should have some secrets to share about Shanks."

Mihawk nodded and Coby began the interview by asking a never-before-seen question: "We know that Shanks is good at a lot of things: writing songs, singing, and he's a good actor. So is there anything Red Hair Shanks can't do?"

"Well," Mihawk began, quickly searching his memories for an answer, "Shanks can't tie his shoelaces."

"What?" Coby asked, clearly surprised by this unexpected and unusual answer.

"Shanks' parents tried everything to teach him how to tie his shoes except that he never succeeded. At five years old, he would run to my house to have me tie his shoes before we went to school. This scheme lasted for a year until I told him to fend for himself. But instead of trying to learn, Shanks devised a better idea: avoiding the shoelaces. In the winter he would wear those atrocious cowboy boots, and in the summer he replaced them with flip flops."

Coby laughed as he imagined a young Shanks wearing sandals and cowboy boots because he couldn't tie his shoes, "but there are pictures on the internet where Shanks is seen wearing shoes!"

"Did these shoes have laces?" Mihawk replied, thinking of loafers or the new slip-on sneakers. "You can check, but I'm sure of my point. Or someone laced his shoes for him."

"Why do I feel like you are plotting against me? I have ringing ears."

Both Coby and Mihawk were surprised by the unexpected arrival of Shanks, who put his arm around his fake boyfriend's shoulders in a gesture that soon became all too familiar. Mihawk turned his head towards Shanks to give him an enigmatic smile that made the younger blush. Fortunately, the rockstar was saved by Coby who caught his attention to ask him a question or two. These having to do with the movie and tomorrow's concert, Mihawk stopped listening.

A detail bothered him for a while. He didn't like that Shanks' flamboyant hair was tamed into a stupid fancy man bun. Thus, Mihawk took advantage of Shanks answering a question to remove the elastic and put it on his wrist. He absently ran his fingers through the red hair and let the feel of the soft strands under his fingers relax him. Shanks looked better with wild and natural hair. Mihawk did not even realize that his innocent gesture was caught on camera and video by a dozen paparazzi. For once, he hadn't calculated his move in an elaborate tactic to make the stalker jealous but had let his instincts take over.

"One last question, Shanks. Is it true that you can't tie your shoes?" Coby asked, referring to the sandals Shanks was wearing. The redhead had argued with his stylist for about twenty minutes because the sandals did not match his costume. The stylist had finally given up, muttering an insult in Japanese that made Mihawk laugh.

Shanks blushed and stuttered before confirming, he grabbed Mihawk's hand to steer him away from Coby and his prying questions on the pretext that the movie was about to start and they were expected. Shanks didn't try to retrieve his rubber band as they headed for Rouge. He nevertheless complained to his mother that Mihawk had revealed his "most unmentionable secret" and sulked when the two laughed at him.

*☠️* ☠️*

Shanks' plan worked a little too well for Mihawk's liking. The mysterious and elusive stalker resented Shanks' new relationship and decided to send a strong message using Mihawk's car. The Audi e-tron, the last remnant of its Shichibukai past, had been ransacked during a concert. On the surveillance videos that Zoro had recovered, Mihawk could see a stranger dressed in a hood and a mask walking towards his precious car, a crowbar in hand. The stalker smashed the side windows, the windshield, and the rear window before going after the hood of the car.

Mihawk turned off the video as the stranger set the Audi on fire. It was the twenty-sixth time he had watched the video for a clue, but his heart still broke when he saw the damage to his Audi that was beyond repair.

It was two days ago and Mihawk was still grieving over the loss of his car. Ray had told him to stop sulking and that he would buy him a new car as a gift at the end of the mission, but Mihawk continued to be morose. Without his Audi, he was now forced to share his living space with Zoro and Law who stared at each other every moment of the day, and four other men who took up a lot of space.

Mihawk was lost in thought when Shanks offered to stretch their legs. The bus had stopped in a mountain town to refuel before heading back to their final destination. The trip would take another four hours, and Mihawk wasn't sure he would survive it. He accepted his "boyfriend's" proposal since he had nothing else to do but categorize the best torture techniques to make the stalker suffer once they were caught.

"You have to put this on before you get off the bus!" Shanks said excitedly, handing him a sleeping mask. "I have a surprise for you!"

Mihawk played Shanks' game although he hated surprises. He didn't want to start an argument with the redhead today and hoped the surprise would take his mind off his Audi.

"I know you miss your car and won't let me replace it," Shanks guided the older man with a hand placed on the small of his back while he mumbled nervously.

"I don't need your money, Red. And I can take care of myself."

"I know, I know. Watch out for the steps here," the redhead said as he helped Mihawk down the steps of the bus without falling. "You're a creepy ex-spy who can kill me with a banana peel, I know. But you're bored to death on the bus and you need to get away from us for a bit. You're not going to die if you let someone help you."

"That's up for debate."

Shanks guided Mihawk for a few more seconds before removing the blindfold and saying "tada!" He was surprised when he saw that the Oro Jackson, Roger's old motorcycle which he had bequeathed to his eldest son, was hidden behind the bus. The Harley Davidson was just like Mihawk remembers: imposing, unscratched, and a symbol of power. The only difference was the name etched on the motorcycle in scarlet red. Shanks had renamed the Oro Jackson to Red Force.

"Are you sure?" he asked turning to Shanks, he knew how much the bike meant to his friend.

The redhead was serene as he put his keys in Mihawk's hands.

"The first time you rode it, your feet barely were barely reaching the ground and I was clinging desperately to you, yet you didn't scratch it," Shanks reminded him as the wind ruffled his hair. He grabbed his helmet which was red with a pirate skull on the right side that rested on the seat of the Red Force and put it gently on the elder's head. "Fred says if you take right, you can drive down a mountain road full of twists and turns. Dust off the Red Force for me, okay?"

"Hey! That's not fair!" Yasopp said indignantly as saw Mihawk riding Shanks' precious motorcycle, "You won't even let us ride it with you, but he can without you?"

"We're barely allowed to look at it," Lucky confirmed after Yasopp nudged him.

"It's different, guys. Shanks doesn't want to get into your pants."

Shanks ignored his comrades and gave Mihawk a playful wink, "Have fun."

The Red Force was like a former caring lover. The bike purred loudly as Mihawk turned on the engine, as if, despite the name change, the Oro Jackson remembered all those hours when Roger taught Mihawk how to ride the bike. In eighteen years, Mihawk had betrayed the Oro Jackson by riding other bikes, some were newer, sportier, or faster. But the Red Force had nothing to be ashamed of in the face of the newer model, it responded to every command from Mihawk without ever disappointing him, it accelerated easily, and followed the movements of its driver like an extension of the bodyguards’s body.

If Mihawk had to choose a word to name his long ride, it would be this: free.

Driving the Red Force up a mountainside was synonymous with freedom.

Mihawk remained on a small cloud long after having parked the Red Force in the hotel’s parking. With the cameras and the fans not there yet, Mihawk wore back his uniform—the t-shirt and harness were hidden under his leather jacket though, just in case—with a light heart thanks to the bike. The space of four hours, the bodyguard had finally put aside his contradictory feelings about the mission, the weight of the sword of Damocles which rested on his shoulders until the judgment, and the memories of the desert of Alabasta.

Now it was time to get ready for tonight's concert.

The bodyguard was inspecting the rooms where the group will sleep tonight when he was joined by Shanks whose pinched expression on his face softened at the sight of Mihawk. His red eyes shone with amusement as he realized his surprise had worked perfectly: the older man was finally relaxed. Mihawk reluctantly returned the keys of the Red Force to its owner. He finished his tour of Beck's room before returning to the hallway with Shanks hot on his heels.

"I was thinking of keeping the Red Force for a few more days before sending it back home. You can use it whenever you want."

Mihawk stopped walking towards Lucky's room to look at Shanks who was playing with the keys of his motorcycle, "you could come with me next time," he offered with a tiny smile.

"Only if I'm driving."

"No way am I riding behind you."

A smirk quickly appeared on the younger's face, "Oh so you prefer when I'm behind you? My chest pressed against your back? Your thighs between mine ? Come on, Hawky, I didn't know you were such a perverted man."

"You're the pervert," Mihawk replied, rolling his eyes.

He tried to stop his brain from imagining Shanks' suggestion, but the image came to him too quickly. The two of them, naked in a hotel room, Shanks' chest pressed against his back… Mihawk started walking again to establish a distance between the redhead and him. Luckily, he was saved from Shanks' lustful gaze by Law stepping out of the elevator. The young man looked from side to side before spotting the fake couple and walking towards them.

"Have you seen Zoro? I lost sight of him five minutes ago and I can't find him anymore."

"Why are you looking for Zoro?" Shanks asked, raising his eyebrows to make it clear that he was making fun of the real couple.

Law, more professional than ever, ignored the implication, "the rest of the band is ready to go as soon as you're ready."

"I only have Lucky's room left to check. We'll be downstairs in less than ten minutes."

"Alright, I'll keep looking for Zoro then," Law said with a weary sigh before adding, "He'll never find his way in ten minutes."

"Go back to reception and check the security cameras, we'll check each floor after we inspect the room."

Law nodded before leaving.

"Can I say it?" Shanks asked excitedly who continued to follow Mihawk because he was bored and had nothing better to do than annoy his friend.

"Tell me what exactly?"

"Oh, come on, you know."

"Please pretend I don't know and enlighten me with your wisdom."

Shanks rolled his eyes at the casualness and apathy that characterized Mihawk, "You like Zoro and you're worried about him."

"This hotel is made up of fifteen floors, of course, I'm worried about him. Zoro could very well be lost forever," Mihawk said, gently mocking his young partner's lack of direction. He grabbed Lucky's room key from one of his cargo pockets and opened the door to a small, dark room, "that child is just a…"

Suddenly, a maid emerged from the bathroom armed with a crowbar in her hands. Mihawk's ex-agent instinct forced him to attack and eliminate the threat, but he remembered that Shanks was behind him and changed his strategy at the last second. He nudged the redhead behind him as his brain raced. The maid and the stalker were bound to be the same person whose primary target was Shanks. A strange protective instinct ordered Mihawk to keep Shanks safe, even if it meant letting his guard clear.

The maid, a young woman their size with dark hair who had stolen a hotel uniform, took aim at the main threat.

Mihawk, who had partially turned away from the threat to push Shanks out of the way, didn't have time to protect himself.

The rounded arc of the crowbar slammed into the former Shichibukai's forehead violently.

His world exploded into dazzling shades of color that vanished as quickly as they had arrived when the ground tilted dangerously beneath his feet. Darkness was an old friend of Mihawk. As a spy, he used darkness as a weapon where he could hide there until the fateful moment. So Mihawk hadn't expected the darkness to betray him twice. First, by hiding the stalker in their shadows. Then, by taking Shanks away from him.

"Shit, Mihawk!" cried a familiar voice from so far away. Mihawk moaned in pain when cold hands touched his forehead which burned strangely. "Damn! You're bleeding… Mihawk! Please, stay with me!"

There were muffled sounds as if two people were verbally and physically arguing. Then there was a hissing sound and a churning of air as if someone had just fired with a silencer. The cold fingers moved away from Mihawk's forehead and they were replaced by unknown and too soft hands. The agent thought he heard someone moan when a needle was stuck in his shoulder.

Afterwards, Mihawk was left alone with the darkness that threatened to take him to another world where he may very well never return.

It wasn't the first time Mihawk had been hit in the head or had his former friend, the darkness, turn against him. He recognized the signs of an impending fading, but refused to let the darkness win.

Shanks.

Shanks needs me.

Shanks!

Mihawk shook his head, trying to fight the fainting spell and the pain in his skull that was piercing his eardrums. He felt like a gunsmith had just opened a shop in his skull and was using his brain as construction material. Mihawk groaned in pain again and tried to get up by pushing on his forearms. He failed.

Now he was blaming himself for letting the last few months in the company of the Red Pirates cloud his mind. Lately, Mihawk had been more focused on playing Shanks' boyfriend and being Zoro's love advisor than on the mission itself. He had relaxed thinking that the stalker wouldn't be a threat, and that he could easily beat her to a duel. But the woman had waited for the opportune moment to strike hard.

Hands coming out of nowhere helped Mihawk to his feet.

"Are you okay?" Zoro had finally found his way back inside the hotel and had just arrived on the top floor only to see his mentor lying on the floor, bathing in his own blood, "Who did this to you? Where's Shanks?"

Mihawk ignored Zoro's questions as a shroud of insensitivity replaced the pain and doubts. He had just taken on his role as Hawkeyes, the best spy of the Shichibukai, and he intended to make this stalker understand what was the prize to pay after playing with him. Mihawk stumbled as he walked towards the elevator. He ignored the blood that ran down the side of his face and stained his jacket as the arrow indicated that an elevator was descending. The hotel had two other elevators which were free to access but they would never be fast enough to catch up with the other one. It was out of the question to give the stalker a head start.

Mihawk pulled out his walkie-talkie as he and Zoro ran down the stairs, "the stalker has Shanks," he told his two teammates, "I want a team blocking the elevator exit at the entrance to the hotel. Law, are you still with the receptionists?"

"Yes."

"Fine, I want elevator 1 down in a minute. I don't care if you have to blow the fuses out of the whole hotel for this. Do it. Now."

Instead of wasting time responding, Law immediately obeid the order.

"What are we doing ?" Zoro asked angrily, the young man was completely lost in front of the mask of indifference his mentor was now wearing.

"We have to go down enough floors to get ahead of the elevator."

Mihawk didn’t provide any further explanation to Zoro as they continued to run down the stairs. They jumped the last steps in order to land on the landings of each floor even if it meant breaking their necks. Finally, they arrived at the tenth floor and Mihawk decided that would be enough. He checked the arrow above the elevator and was grateful to see that they had been faster.

"Help me open the doors," Mihawk ordered, starting to insert his fingers between the gaps in the two doors.

Zoro quickly obeyed although he still refused to understand what the elder had in mind. Together they managed to open the elevator doors. A large hole greeted them and they backed away as the elevator passed under their noses.

Mihawk took a few more steps back to gain momentum, "get out of the way."

"It's suicide!"

The former Shichibukai smirked, "It was my daily routine. Pray that Law turns off the elevator in time."

Then Mihawk ran and jumped into the void. He clung to a cable that was located in the middle of the elevator shaft and slid down. When Mihawk opened the box containing his SSA uniform three months ago, the former spy expressed doubts about the quality of his new gear. Even after these three months, Mihawk still expressed these doubts because he was certain that the equipment of the SSA was of lower quality than that provided to the Shichibukais. But the red and black gloves protected his fingers and his cargo pants kept the steel cable from destroying his thighs.

Mihawk continued his rapid descent, more or less controlled, before dropping when he was sure the fall wouldn't kill him. Indeed, the fall did not kill him, but was not painless either. Above all, Mihawk had abandoned discretion in favor of speed. He was sure the stalker knew he was there when a shot missed Mihawk. The former spy was deliberating to open the emergency hatch despite the risks when the elevator stopped.

Law had succeeded.

Opening the hatch was easy. Mihawk dropped inside. He had hoped the woman would have been taken by surprise enough to let go of Shanks, but she had tightened her grip on him instead. The most surprised was probably the redhead who hadn't expected Mihawk to save him from above. The star struggled in his stalker's arms despite the threat of a gun to his temple. Shanks froze completely when the woman pointed her gun at Mihawk who had drawn his gun as well.

The woman and Mihawk pointed their guns at each other in a cowboy duel, Shanks between them.

"Tell him to drop his gun or you both die," the woman ordered, her hand not shaking.

"Mihawk…," Shanks began, his voice shaking with concern and fear, "…you should obey. Let me go with her. I'll be fine."

But Mihawk, or rather Hawkeyes, didn't listen to his former boyfriend.

The woman and Shanks were both wrong if they thought she was the most dangerous in that tight space.

Shanks was stupid if he thought Mihawk wouldn't be willing to sacrifice his life for his.

The woman was crazy if she thought the bodyguard would hesitate to shoot Shanks to beat her.

He briefly recalled their conversation about Lucky Luke the first day they met after eighteen years. Shanks had bragged that he could play a convincing Lucky Luke, while the only one capable of shooting faster than his shadow was Mihawk.

Within a second, Mihawk aimed for Shanks's left leg and fired.

Surprised, the woman also fired.

Someone shouted.

"Are you fine?" Mihawk asked worriedly as he grabbed Shanks and hugged him away from danger.

He groped his former lover's body and was reassured when he found no wounds. Mihawk had aimed for the woman's leg through Shanks' baggy cropped pants. His shot had been perfect and had hit its target without hurting the redhead's leg. As for the woman, her shot had hit the elevator mirror and she was lying on the floor, a bullet in her leg.

"I should be asking you that! You must have a concussion!"

Mihawk shrugged, "I saved your life so my head is fine."

"Yeah, pulling through my pants. How did you do that?"

The elevator started up again, Mihawk pushied Shanks away from the woman he stole the gun for safety's sake. He was about to tie her hands with the apron around her waist when the doors opened and Zoro accompanied by Law entered. Zoro was sulking for missing all the action.

"Don't worry," Shanks said in an unsteady voice, "you're going to get a lot of action soon. Dear Alvida poisoned Mihawk and me. There's a good chance I won't be at the concert tonight..."

Mihawk's golden eyes widened as he considered the syringe that had been stuck in his shoulder. He had thought he was hallucinating or had a flashback from an old mission. He almost lost his means when he realized that he had failed again. And yet...

Yet…

Something was wrong.

Alvida had stalked Shanks for months in order to get him for herself. Mihawk understood why she would have poisoned him since he had pretended to date Shanks. But why poison Shanks too? Why take this risk if she wanted to monopolize him? It didn't make sense unless….

"There's an antidote and she knows where it is. Everyone get out," Mihawk ordered in a voice that left no room for argument.

If there was a remote chance that this poison had a cure, then nothing would stop Mihawk from finding it and administering it to Shanks whether there were two or just one dose of this cure.

Alvida shuddered in fear when she found herself alone with Mihawk, the infamous former Shichibukai who had tortured people tougher than her for higher stakes, "you won't hurt a woman…"

Even she wasn't sure what she was saying.

The elevator doors closed when Mihawk pressed the close button.

Alvida started screaming in pain.

*☠*☠*

Buggy dreamed of being a savior. For as long as he could remember, he had wanted to be the hero in shining armor who would save the damsel in distress. Except that the world, harsh and unfair, had never given him this chance. So, as a lucky opportunist, Buggy set out to create his own story where he would be the hero and Shanks would be the damsel in distress.

Because Buggy loved Shanks even after eighteen years of a torturous relationship.

Buggy loved Shanks with a love that was strong, pure, and could never be destroyed. They had experienced many trials, including a lingering one that had the name of Silvers Mihawk. When they were sixteen, Buggy had tried to woo Shanks and confess his feelings to him, but the redhead already only had eyes for his childhood friend. Buggy had thought he had lost Shanks forever and always had to be the nice friend when Mihawk finally returned the redhead's feelings. The young man had taken his chance after Roger's death and never regretted it. Because he was sure that damn Silvers didn't deserve Shanks. The older one didn't understand the redhead the way Buggy did.

Mihawk didn't deserve Shanks then, and he still didn’t now.

Buggy had smashed a television when Alvida had described to him the bodyguard who had chased her. A man in his late thirties with dark hair, disturbing golden eyes, and who seemed far too qualified for the job. It was these damn Silvers. It had to be him. Although Buggy couldn't explain Silvers' presence at the time. He had toasted the abolition of the Shichibukais and had laughed until he cried when he heard the reporters slandering Silvers. Shanks' former boyfriend may have changed his last name, but he was still the same cold asshole he was back then.

Finally, the presence of Dracule had its benefits.

"Might as well kill two birds with a stone," thought Buggy, realizing that this was his chance to get rid of his lifelong rival and have Shanks for himself forever.

Thus, he had ordered Alvida to get rid of Dracule first but to leave him alive. As a former Shichibukai, Mihawk was the most dangerous, but he could be a perfect pawn against Shanks who wouldn't dare to be fearless if his boyfriend's life was at stake. In his maniacal plan, Buggy then planned to save Shanks from his collaborator and to be a perfect support when the redhead would mourned Dracule’s unfortunate death.

This time, Buggy planned to do it right and love Shanks forever.

The blue-haired man realized his plan had been derailed upon recognizing the characteristic engine noise of the Red Force. Buggy hated this motorcycle with a passion and had tried to explain to Shanks that riding a motorcycle was dangerous and deadly. He approached one of the windows of the factory to have a visual on the motorcycle which was indeed the Red Force. Buggy frowned when he saw that Shanks was alone on his motorbike, his red helmet visor down, and maybe, from the window, the redhead looked skinnier.

Buggy looked behind him knowing that the men of the gang he had paid were going to be a problem if Shanks made a dramatic entrance by entering through the front door. The warehouse belonged to the gang who had agreed to let it to Buggy for an astronomical sum, but Shanks was worth every berry spent. They were part of the staging that Buggy had planned: Alvida was supposed to bring Shanks to the warehouse where Buggy had to arrive at the last minute to save him with the cure in his pocket.

The air in the warehouse suddenly turned electric, the men had heard the motorbike too, and were mentally preparing for the scene. A silence that no one dared to break thickened dangerously as the door remained brazenly closed. Buggy looked out the window again to check the street. The Red Force was alone now. Shanks had disappeared.

Buggy felt deep inside that something was wrong and that his plan had failed. He nervously counted the eleven men spread around him to relax. The men of the gang were sufficiently armed to deal with any eventuality. Buggy counted them again when he realized he had missed one. Maybe Johan had gone to the bathroom again? Except, counting again, Buggy counted ten men.

There was an imperceptible movement to his right and a third man, Milo, disappeared into the darkness surrounding the warehouse.

Buggy didn't know what was going on or where Alvida was, but he was certain of two things: the driver of the Red Force was not Shanks and that he had to get out of there before he was abducted by the shadows too.

He had managed to get out the side door and was sneaking down the narrow alley bordered by two warehouses when a knife stopped his escape. The knife, one of those large serrated hunting knives the Navy used, had been thrown from the security stairs of the second warehouse and was now stuck in a crumbling brick an inch from Buggy's nose. The clown felt his body paralyzed as his heart skipped several beats. From a hunter, he had become the prey of shadows that did not need darkness to move. The biker who had dared to steal the Red Force was kneeling on the stair railing like an eagle waiting for its prey to move to catch it.

Buggy wisely stayed in his place and didn't try to run away even when the biker jumped up and landed in a heroic position a few feet away from him. The identity of the biker was hidden by the red helmet, where a pirate skull was visible on the right side, and basic clothing: a gray cargo and a leather jacket closed. And then the man slowly removed the helmet to reveal his identity and Buggy's gray eyes widened.

Mihawk was no longer looking human as he walked towards Buggy who thought to himself that his rival had become a demon in two decades. The whiteness of Dracule's face was accentuated by the pool of blood that had dried on the right side of his face. Mihawk had a gash and a huge bruise on his temple ; his only open eye, the right one was closed with blood, revealed a golden iris clouded in pain and cold anger; and his right hand gripped another knife tightly.

In fear, Buggy backed away as the demon easily overpowered him.

"M-Mihawk," Buggy stammered, trying to back away even more though his back was already against the brick wall, "I-I can explain…. It's a misunderstanding. I-I wanted…"

"Keep your explanations for someone who wants to hear them. I don't care why you're here or how involved you are in this case. You’re insignificant."

Buggy swallowed his anger at being snubbed like a runt by his rival. He didn't dare move when Mihawk shoved his knife in one of his pockets and calloused hands started rummaging in his pockets for something.

"Y-you can't take that," cried Buggy after Dracule found the four steel syringes hidden in the inside pocket of his jacket. If he lost those syringes then his plan would be over for good. Buffy was surprised when the demon planted one of the syringes in his thigh without flinching and injected himself with the transparent liquid. "That was my insulin, you idiot...!"

"I'll be very clear so even an idiot like you can understand: leave Shanks alone."

This time, Buggy didn't give up and tried to push Dracule away from him, but the demon was way stronger than him.

"I love Shanks! We are made to be together! You do not deserve it!"

"You're right," Mihawk agreed in an emotionless voice, "but you don't deserve him either. So stay away from Shanks. Forget him and start your life over again. Because if I hear that Shanks crossed your path again whether it was by design or by chance, I would know and I’ll come for you."

"You're in court, the Navy is watching you, you'll sign your own arrest by killing me."

The demon's face contorted into something darker as he smiled, "Kill you? No, it will be a simple accident. A fall down the stairs, a damaged shrimp, or a badly aimed bolt in your marquee. Please, Buggy, don't underestimate me. Not again."

Mihawk abandoned a terrified Buggy in the alley as he retrieved Shanks' helmet and returned to the Red Force. He ignored the comfort that washed over him as the engine purred beneath him. The countdown on his watch said he only had about twenty minutes left before the poison killed Shanks. He checked that the steel syringe was in his jacket pocket, which he zipped, before returning to the hotel. Mihawk ignored his speeding, he was driving at 130km/h on a road limited to 90km/h, and zigzagged between the cars which honked their horns in anger. He adapted his speed, which was still dangerous, when the signs indicated a dangerous zone limited to 30km/h because of the tight turns. The Red Force did not complain for a single second about the rude and dangerous treatment Mihawk gave it. The bike anticipated each of his requests and accelerated quickly past the bend, as if it too wanted to save Shanks.

Road traffic thickened as Mihawk entered the city and he was forced to slow down. The bodyguard ignored the horns and the insults that came his way as he ran through five red lights and cut off a dozen cars. The Red Force skidded on the pavement in front of the hotel and Mihawk nearly fell as he jumped off the bike to run inside. He ignored the indignant cries of receptionists and patrons as he stormed up the stairwell and ran as if being chased by Satan himself. He missed a step in his rush and almost fell but landed on his wrist and continued running to the eighth floor.

Police officers, Law, and Shanks were waiting for him in the guest lounge when Mihawk arrived, gasping for breath and having blurry vision. He ignored the police who were there to collect their testimony and handed the syringe to Law.

The local police captain walked up to Mihawk, a glass of water in hand, "my colleagues arrived at the warehouse after you left and proceeded to arrest the gang. I owe you thanks for eliminating this scourge that plagued my city. You defeated them without killing a single one, you are impressive, Mr Dracule."

Mihawk tried to answer but his tongue was pasty in his mouth and his vision prevented him from discerning the old face of the captain. He tried to take a step forward, towards Shanks who was sitting in a chair talking with Law, but tripped over his own feet. The captain put an arm behind Mihawk's back to keep him from falling and handed him the glass of water, "you should drink."

After his speech and vision, it was the rest of his body that betrayed him. Mihawk commanded his arm to retrieve the glass of water and he succeeded, but his fingers didn't tighten enough around the plastic cup that fell. Cool water poured onto the soft green carpet just as the armorer began to pound Mihawk's brain with his hammer again.

The crash, followed by the captain calling Mihawk's name, caught Shanks' attention, who turned away from Law to see his friend's golden eyes roll back. The redhead lunged forward and grabbed Mihawk when he fell. He was grateful he had been quick enough as the bodyguard was slumped unconscious against him.

"Call an ambulance!" Shanks ordered urgently as his fingers cradled Mihawk's head against his chest.

Ultimately, whether Mihawk was a demon or not, the darkness always won.

Chapter Text

There was no up, no down, no ground, no sky, no way out.

Mihawk was lost in the darkness, alone with his thoughts, his doubts, his endless nightmares, and his regrets.

He was stuck in the sweltering heat, endless dancing, endless falling, and no one to catch him.

He was a knight fighting a giant blue dragon with no sword, no shield, and no one to watch him die. What's the use of dying if there's no one to see his downfall? What's the point of fighting if he has no one to protect? What is all this for when in the end he is always alone .

There were questions that repeated themselves until they lost all meaning: What is your name? Your first name? Your birthdate? What day is it? What is your profession? (this one was actually pretty funny) What's your favorite book?

His parents appeared through a magical portal. They were so worried that they dared to lie to him saying he would be fine. Fine? Mihawk had forgotten the definition of this word for a long time. He would never be fine.

No gravity had connected Mihawk to Earth for so long, long before he was a knight. He was like an astronaut whose cable holding him to the space station had been severed and he was drifting, and floating, and disappearing into the infinite blackness, the deafening silence, the vast infinity, and then, with the snap of a finger, he was locked in a steel cage by extraterrestrials with too white skin.

Mihawk felt like he was back on the Red Force and was driving down the side of Mount Doom with Sauron's eye fixed on him.

He swam and drowned without ever reaching the surface which was too far away, unreachable.

Despite everything, whether he was a knight, a hero, an astronaut, a hobbit, or a swimmer, two little fairies stayed with him through thick and thin, against lies and demanding questions. The red-haired one held his hand through everything and looked at him with red eyes filled with concern. The other, the one with dark hair and tattoos on his hands, spoke with the aliens and occasionally threatened them.

And then, unexpectedly, Mihawk literally fell on a soft mattress. Startled, he opened his eyelids with difficulty, they were so heavy and the mattress must have been built with pieces of cloud, and realized that he was in a hotel room. Another one. No, this one was familiar. He'd been there before his forehead hugged a crowbar—what a weird idea. The little fairy with the demanding hands forced him to get up a little time to take off his clothes - he was still wearing his cargo and his boots, but his t-shirt and his jacket had been replaced by a black suit jacket.

"Shanks…?" he asked in confusion when he finally recognized the little red fairy in front of him."Are you fine? The poison… how are you?"

Shanks chuckled a bit as he moved closer to Mihawk, a t-shirt and sweatpants in hand, "You're really beside yourself, huh? This is the twentieth time in an hour that you have asked me this question. I should be the one asking you that question, though."

It wasn't until the redhead's fingers touched the edge of the bandage that Mihawk realized there was something around his head.

"What happened ?"

"Later," Shanks replied as he helped Mihawk put the shirt on, "that's the most consistent you've been in hours and I don't think it's going to last. You mumble some pretty funny ramblings since you’re awake."

"What…?"

Mihawk frowned when he found himself lying under the duvet; Shanks had tucked him in like he was a kid and he barely noticed.

"Later, okay? Don't worry, I wrote it all down in a notebook so I could tease you when this is all funny. In the meantime, you need to go back to sleep."

Shanks got to his feet when he was sure Mihawk had fallen asleep, but he was startled by a hand grabbing his wrist. Mihawk opened his golden eyes filled with pain and worry, "don't go," the elder begged.

Oddly, Mihawk was sure Shanks should be somewhere else right now. That the redhead had better things to do than be with him in that luxurious hotel room. Still, Mihawk didn't want Shanks to leave him.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"Stay," Mihawk repeated when the younger one tried to get out of bed again.

"I'm not leaving you, I'm just going to sit on the sofa so I don't disturb your sleep."

"No, I can't protect you if you go too far. Stay," Mihawk didn't care if he sounded like a crazy man as long as Shanks understood.

And luckily, the younger one still understood him perfectly.

"Oooh, you want me to stay here?" Shanks pointed to the bed and the older man nodded imperceptibly. "I don't even know why I'm asking your permission when you're clearly not yourself. But okay, whatever my muse wants."

Shanks moved around the bed, stripped off his clothes, and settled down next to Mihawk who had already rolled onto his side. The redhead was surprised when the eldest hugged him from behind, it had been a long time since he had been the littlespoon and the feeling was not unpleasant. In Mihawk's arms, Shanks felt like nothing bad could ever happen to him and he hoped his friend felt the same way in his arms. He hoped he was no longer the burden he had been eighteen years ago. Shanks relaxed as Mihawk's injured forehead rested against the back of his shoulder and the arms around him relaxed.

Mihawk had just fallen asleep.

*☠️*☠️*

Generally, Mihawk wasn't the kind of person to fidget in his sleep. He was the type of person to fall asleep one way and wake up in the same position. Shakky had told him that she was scared when he was a baby because except for his rising and falling chest, she felt like he had been mummified during the night. Conversely, Shanks was the kind of person to wake up the opposite way he fell asleep—waking up with the redhead's feet in front of your face is never pleasant.

So when Mihawk awoke the next morning to daylight playing on his face, he was surprised – and more than a little embarrassed – to wake up lying half on Shanks' bare chest. The redhead's right hand was on his shoulder, tracing the edge of a blemish left by a sunburn.

"Slept well, sleeping beauty?" Shanks asked him in a voice still hoarse with sleep.

Mihawk nodded, stepping back a bit so that his head rested on Shanks' shoulder rather than his chest. He knew it was wrong to be in this position with his ex and that he should reestablish an invisible boundary between Shanks and himself. But the shoulder beneath him was more than comfortable and Mihawk didn't have the strength in him to move.

They didn't say anything for a few minutes, which was a first for Shanks and his need to talk to say nothing. The redhead must have seen on Mihawk's face that now was not the time. He felt like he was in someone else's body because his body was used to fighting and pushing its limits. But not this time. This time his body wasn't asking for his opinion to rest. So Mihawk obeyed his body's request and rested for once.

Mihawk's fingers traced invisible patterns on Shanks' tanned, muscular abs. Shanks laughed as the deft fingers brushed his ribs - was the redhead still ticklish? It was good to know. Mihawk stopped his fingers before they touched Shanks' left arm. He'd had small glimpses of the deep, jagged scars that marked his left arm before, but never so close and he'd never dared to touch them before.

"I would have lost my arm if not for Law's responsiveness," Shanks muttered, undisturbed by the fingers touching his scars. He had been ready to lose his arm, and therefore to stop playing the guitar, for his protege. Luffy was rehearsing his song one last time on the stage of The Voice for the evening Live when one of the walls of the decor in the shape of pirate ships collapsed. Shanks had jumped onto the stage and pushed Luffy out of the way but hadn't been quick enough to save himself. Luckily, Law was a security guard on The Voice at the time and he had given him first aid before an ambulance arrived. "His father is the best surgeon in Flevance and he taught his son everything. Mr Law is a real miracle worker, it's thanks to him that I was able to keep the motor skills of my arm. Imagine a one-armed musician? That would have been picturesque."

Mihawk frowned upon hearing the nonchalance in the redhead's voice. How Shanks managed to laugh at his accident was incomprehensible and so much him at the same time. Shanks always saw the glass as half full even when the glass in question was cracked.

"The scars aren't too bad from this angle," Shanks added, waving his arm to examine it.

Mihawk looked at the scar on his own right arm, left over from an enemy who had cut him too deeply with a knife, and replied, "Mine are worse."

He had not left the Shichibukai without scars to bear witness to his failures and his successes. Mihawk had been whipped, cut, burned, beaten, kicked, he stitched himself up countless times, shot, and injured multiple times due to his own lack of judgment. Unfortunately, Mihawk didn't get the worst injury trophy that went to Crocodile and his hook.

"Hmmh," Shanks hummed, continuing to trace the edge of the burn stain under his finger. The plastic surgeon who had taken care of Mihawk had done his best to repair the burnt skin with skin grafts and the worst was gone, but some spots would stay marked forever. "I don't know. I kinda like them. They're proof that you're here with me, alive. And above all, they make you a little more... human. Otherwise, you always look so untouchable and powerful, like nothing could ever hurt you."

"I can be hurt, physically and mentally," Mihawk recalled.

But instead of going down that eighteen-year-old path, Shanks chose a different one, "Oh yeah, I noticed when Mr. the Super Spy passed out after riding miles on a motorcycle and fighting off a gang single-handed!"

"The Red Force is fine, right? I didn't scratch it?"

"Who gives a damn if you had screwed it up?" Shanks asked, outraged, turning a little to face Mihawk, his eyes filled with fear and anger. "What were you thinking?! I almost lost you!"

Mihawk shrugged a little, "we needed the cure to survive and I didn't exactly have time to stop by the hospital for a head scan."

"You could have let Zoro handle it, you trained him for 3 months for this kind of situation. I saw you training and you can't say you were going easy on him. He was ready to do more than accompany the rest of the band to the concert."

"No, he's not ready and I hope he will never be ready to take a life. I would have set this warehouse ablaze if the gang had put up too much opposition to the success of this mission. Nothing would have stopped me from bringing you that syringe."

Shanks swallowed at the lack of emotion in the golden eyes that haunted his days and nights. Mihawk wasn't lying and it was terrifying. The oldest had taken reckless risks to save his life. He'd jumped off the top of a descending elevator, defeated a gang with his bare hands, and nearly broken his neck riding the Red Force. And yet, Mihawk knew he would do it again if it meant Shanks could live another day. It was a dangerous thought but it was the truth. It would have been easier to go through the front door and kill the gang members, and Buggy, to get the antidote. Instead, Mihawk snuck inside through an open window and lured his enemies into the darkness one by one to stun them. Maybe Mihawk didn't want to kill anymore if he could do without it, to become someone better, but more importantly, he didn't want their death to weigh on Shanks' conscience.

"But you didn't have to go that far," Shanks added with a small, uncertain smile. "They and Alvida are going to rot in jail for a few years thanks to you. And the most important thing: I'm fine, you'll be fine, and we're together. Everything is perfect in the best of all possible worlds."

Mihawk didn't answer because he would shatter Shanks' illusions if he did. All was not perfect in the best of worlds. The mission was over. Mihawk was to return to the SSA and take charge of a new mission, hoping that it would be enough to save the company. He should be gone, he should have already left, and Shanks was supposed to be old enough to know that. Would the redhead leave if Mihawk asked him to? Did he actually want it though? The only times Mihawk hadn't woken up due to his nightmares were when he slept with Shanks. He didn't feel like he had one last night and he had slept like a baby on the chalet’s couch a month ago. It couldn't be coincidences. Having Shanks around helped drive away the bad memories that haunted him. But was it enough?

It made me realize that I had to be better for myself and not for someone else if I ever wanted you back.

Mihawk was beginning to understand what Shanks had felt when he left eighteen years ago: this need to become someone better for yourself rather than someone else. Unfortunately, Mihawk hadn't come to that yet and he didn’t know if he could one day be fine.

"Hey, what do you think about spending the day together, just you and me?"

"I don't know," Mihawk replied, avoiding looking up.

Staying would do more harm than good but didn't they deserve one last day together before they inevitably had to go their separate ways?

"Come on, you'll see, it will be great!"

"I'm not sure I'm good company," he said, referring to his concussion, "or being able to leave this room."

Mihawk could feel the fatigue rooted in his bones, the aches in his muscles, his eyelids drooping from exhaustion, and the nausea and headache that made him want to do nothing for a very long time. Going to the door felt like a long and tiring quest that Mihawk didn't have the strength or the will to start. In fact, he would have gone back to sleep by now if it wasn't for Shanks.

"Who is talking about getting out of this room?" Shank asked with a mischievous smile.

Mihawk knew he had lost the moment he looked up and saw red puppy eyes. Shanks kissed the top of his head before triumphantly jumping out of bed and running into the bathroom after the older whispered his agreement. Mihawk was certain he had been trapped when he heard water running in the other room.

"Shanks?"

"Hmmh?"

"Do you know where my phone is?" He asked after looking around and finding nothing.

"Uuuh," Shanks paused what he was doing to think, "look in my backpack by your bedside table. It must be in the blue bag. Oh, and you should drink while you're at it."

Mihawk rolled his eyes because of Shanks's mommy bear instinct but grabbed the glass of water strategically placed on his bedside table before leaning over the edge of the bed to retrieve Shanks' backpack. He was a burgundy eastpack who had been on too many trips but was still resisting the rough treatment Shanks was giving him—the redhead was throwing his backpack around carelessly. Inside, Mihawk found clothes that reeked of sweat and had been rolled into balls and thrown inside—it was the exact outfit Shanks wore to his concerts—a charger, two packets of smoking gum, and the blue bag. He put it on the bed before opening it and retrieving his wallet, watch, and phone. Mihawk put the device in charge since it was no longer turning on and attached his watch to his left wrist where he finally noticed the hospital identification bracelet.

His ramblings from the night before made at least some sense now. He had been taken to the hospital where doctors asked him questions and gave him a brain scan to check the extent of his injury. Mihawk should probably count himself lucky that Alvida hesitated at the last second and that the crowbar didn't smash his skull.

Nevertheless, Mihawk felt his concussion was still playing tricks on him as he read the date on his phone: Saturday, November 17, 10:14 a.m. However, Alvida had attacked them Thursday around 2 p.m. and Mihawk had to pass out before 3 p.m. since he had only an hour to save Shanks before the poison killed them.

He had slept a whole day? Impossible. Mihawk had had such severe concussions before and had never needed to go to the hospital before. It had to be said that Doflamingo had concocted an unorthodox remedy to stay sane during a concussion. But aside from a few flashes of the hospital and finding himself in the hotel room, Mihawk had no memory of yesterday.

"Shanks?" He asked again to make sure his phone wasn’t broken.

The redhead came out of the bathroom where the water had stopped to lend a hand to Mihawk in his phone research, "Can't find your phone? I know it's a mess in my bag, but still, you're not very talented for a spy."

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Shanks' smile was replaced by a guilty pout, "Since Law and I took you back to the hospital around 10 p.m. the night before last... The doctors wanted you to stay overnight for observation, but Law used his name to bring you back here. I don't think he trusted them to take care of you properly. Law was a real nurse: he checked your concussion every hour the first night, which you hated by the way, he cooked you food and kept you hydrated. On the other hand, he risks killing you if you call him like a little fairy again…”

It worried and bothered Mihawk that he couldn't remember yesterday, concussion or not. Being so out of his mind was dangerous for an agent, anything could have happened while he was sleeping, and Law or Shanks could have killed him - even though it wasn't the redhead type. He had no memory of being woken up multiple times or drinking anything lately. Mihawk promised himself to thank Law the next time he saw him.

"...I forced him to go to bed this morning," Shanks took a small breath after finishing the speech he'd probably been planning for hours.

"What are you still doing here?" Mihawk asked, frowning in confusion. This week was busy for the Red Pirates who had three small concerts planned this week: the day of the attack, last night, and tonight. Technically speaking, Shanks and Law shouldn't be here anymore.

"Well, you asked me to stay."

If there was one thing Mihawk wished he'd forgotten about those concussion-induced ramblings was this: begging Shanks to sleep with him. But it made sense at the time. Mihawk had crossed paths with death far too many times that day and had needed comfort in knowing that Shanks, his mission, was within arm's reach; that he was where Mihawk could protect him.

"You had gigs planned," he reminded to subtly deflect the subject hoping Shanks wouldn't notice his rosy cheeks.

“You will be proud to know that I was a responsible adult by going to the concert last night. It was a two-hour drive back and forth from here to the concert hall with the Red Force and I got back to you around two in the morning, but the fans were totally worth it. They were wild and completely adorable with their little signs. Hope tonight's are just as awesome!”

“It's a four-hour drive to get to the next concert hall. You can't spend the day with me and be there on time."

Shanks struck a diva pose before mimicking the voice of one of those pretentious wealthy, "Calm down, darling, that’s what private jets were invented for. But remind me to do a big check to an environmental organization to make up for the environmental damage," he added with a grimace.

"And how were the fans of the first concert?" Mihawk asked, knowing in advance what the answer would be.

The grimace deepened and Shanks hesitated before replying, "I don't know, didn’t went, but they were cool according to Beck."

"Shanks! These people paid to hear the full Red Pirates sing. Is that what you call being a responsible adult?"

"Hey, I had warned in advance that I could not be there and Ray agreed that I reveal the soft version of the story. So, officially, you got hurt protecting me from an ill-intentioned person and I stayed by your side. The people I consider my real fans, the little pirates, understood why I couldn't be there. Most wish you a speedy recovery."

"That's not what I call being a responsible adult..." Mihawk muttered as his headache worsened.

Shanks sighed and lost his smile as he sat up in bed to face Mihawk. He grabbed the slender hands of the oldest in his to force eye contact between them, "You were hurt because you pushed me away from the crowbar. Then you rode miles on the Red Force and fought a gang that had fucking automatics because I was going to die without a cure. And you passed out on me. It's all my fault so how could I have let unknown paramedics take you to hospital while I went to a concert that would have been ruined by my presence? Pretending everything was fine when you could have died was beyond me. I would’ve forgotten the lyrics."

"I wouldn't have died of a concussion."

"Yeah, go tell that to the bloodstain in Lucky's old room. There was so much blood…"

"Head wounds bleed a lot," Mihawk replied to help appease Shanks. "But thank you for staying, it is appreciated."

Shanks feigned nonchalance by shrugging,"It was the least I could do for my hero. Come on, it's bath time!"

The small gap between the bed and the floor felt like a titanic ordeal from where Mihawk sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't feel like leaving the bed, but Shanks had prepared a bath for him and the ordeal was always better than lingering over the thought of Shanks choosing to miss a concert for him.

Dizziness nearly knocked him back into bed after Mihawk got up. The glass of water must not have been enough. But luckily Shanks had stayed close to Mihawk and caught him.

"Are you fine? Do you want to go back to bed?"

"No, it's okay," Mihawk muttered, fighting the nausea to speak.

Shanks put his arm behind the agent's back to help him forward, "I can carry you if you want..."

"What did we say about carrying people without their consent?"

"It is wrong…," Shanks replied, sulking like a child who had just been scolded by an adult.

They reached the bathroom some indefinite time later where Mihawk had taken small steps with Shanks' support. He felt like he hadn't walked in ages and had to relearn how to walk on his own. Mihawk blamed his concussion and his very graceful landing on the top of an elevator.

He sat down on the bathroom toilet as Shanks finished his surprise which consisted of a bubble bath scented with bath salts and accompanied by candles provided by the hotel stuarts. Shanks closed the bathroom door, plunging the room into darkness filtered by candlelight and a quietness ideal for easing concussion-induced headaches. Then, the redhead helped Mihawk to finish undressing - he had encountered difficulties with his t-shirt - and to get into the bathtub before stealing Mihawk's place on the toilet. Shanks preferred to stay in the room in case Mihawk fell asleep in the bath.

The tub was indecently large and had enough room for three or four people. It was representative of the room they were staying in: huge, luxurious, and carefully designed. Apart from the marble earthenware, the gold sinks, and the modernity of the equipment, the bathroom was quite ordinary with a walk-in shower, a bathtub, a sink, and a toilet with its bidet.

Mihawk took advantage of the size of the tub to dip his head underwater. He felt like he was entering a timeless world as the water surrounded and soothed him. Holding his breath allowed him to clear his mind which, as an immediate consequence, helped to lessen his headache.

As an overtrained former agent, Mihawk could hold his breath for ten minutes according to the last test he took. Every year, the Shichibukais gathered to pass a battery of tests that had mainly an administrative purpose where they had to run on an adaptive treadmill, fight robots, see a psychiatrist, and answer a quiz on theoretical situations to prove that they were dedicated and honest officers.

Thinking back on it, the Shichibukai genuinely mocked the quiz by answering it "honestly" when most were carrying out criminal activity at the same time; they usually laughed at the questions over a drink at the end of the medical check-up. For example, "If the train goes right, it will kill a politician, but if it goes left, it will kill ten people; who are you saving?" The correct answer - the one that all the Shichibukai had more or less written down - was to sacrifice their life to stop the train, but after having had a drink or two, Doflamingo would say he would let the train go all the way around the circuit to kill the people and the politician, and they would toast to a perfectly successful mission.

In fact, Doflamingo had turned their last medical appointment into a competition. And Mihawk, who had a more than amply developed competitive spirit, had stayed just to prove that his colleagues could be bigger, he remained the strongest. Kuma and Moria left rolling their eyes, but Dolfy managed to pique Crocy and Jinbei’s interest too and Boa stayed behind to act as the referee. Now they each had their specialty - Crocodile and theft, Boa and seduction, and Mihawk and sharp objects - which they had taught others out of boredom or solidarity. Whatever his reasons, Jinbei had taught them several karate techniques as well as how to hold their breath. Dolfy had theorized that Jinbei had been a fish in his previous life - or that his father had had a zoophilic relationship with a big woman fish - and Mihawk was inclined to agree since their colleague won the competition by snorkeling for about twenty minutes.

Mihawk stuck his head out of the water after counting down two minutes so as not to scare Shanks unnecessarily. Above all, towards the end of the second minute, flashes of his captivity in Alabasta where William and his men had tested his snorkeling ability replaced the memories of the competition in his mind. Mihawk didn't want to think about it when he had promised to spend the day with Shanks and only with him.

He moved into the tub to make room behind him, looked over at Shanks who was playing a piano app on his phone, and asked, "Wouldn't you rather join me than play on your phone? You wanted us to spend the day together."

Shanks hesitated for form before removing his t-shirt and the rest of his clothes. He was careful as he settled behind Mihawk and let the older one relax against his chest, his fingers playing with strands of dark hair in the premise of an incredible massage. Mihawk toyed with the foam around them as he felt Shanks's chest slowly rise and fall behind him.

They weren't bothered by each other's nudity since it wasn't the first bath they had shared, even though the last one was over twenty years ago, when they were still children and the bath was filled with plastic boats and floating ducks. At the time, Shanks' favorite game was being a pirate and Mihawk would be an amazing swordsman. The bathroom never survived their games and the floor always ended up soaking wet; so much that Roger ended up having a swimming pool built in his backyard so the two kids could have some fun - he was waiting for an excuse and for the kids to be old enough to have one built in order to push Ray into the water every occasion.

A small smile played on Mihawk's lips as he thought back to those memories; he shared one with Shanks when the redhead asked him what made him smile and they laughed as they remembered the fights Ray and Roger would have by the pool in order to push the other into the water under the desperate gaze of their wives and their sons who were betting on who would win.

He was falling asleep, his head on the redhead's shoulder, when he realized that the water was now at the perfect temperature for him - while Shanks preferred when the water was boiling - and smelled...

"Did you put sandalwood salts?" he asked in surprise as Shanks hated that smell.

"You love that smell for a reason I'll probably never understand and this day is for my hero so yeah, sandalwood."

Shanks inspired the smell and pretended to vomit out of the tub to mock Mihawk who kissed his jaw in silent thanks.

They got out of the tub nearly an hour later when the water had gotten too cold even for Mihawk, who didn't like the feeling of wrinkled fingers anyway. The bath having helped him relax his sore muscles and tired bones, Mihawk was able to stand while Shanks cleaned the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised by the size of the bump on his forehead. It was like a black-violet mini-volcano whose edges were held together with medical glue so that the magma - his blood here- would not spurt. By comparison, his pale complexion and the purple circles under his eyes weren't so bad. Mihawk was beginning to understand why Shanks was so worried about him.

Mihawk collapsed in bed completely lifeless and ready to go back to sleep now that his head was on the softest pillow in the world but Shanks stopped him.

"Don't pout, you can sleep after eating."

"Not hungry, nauseous, sleeping," Mihawk replied unintelligibly through the pillow.

Shanks laughed at his friend's behavior as he replaced his bathrobe with boxers and approached the mini fridge full of food for Mihawk, "Law will kill me if you don't eat what he made."

"It is your problem."

"Firstly, ouch, I thought you cared enough about me to protect me from Law, but I get it: you prefer him. Second, you will feel better after eating. And third, you don’t want to piss off Law, believe my experience on the matter. He is capable of chopping off your head if you complain about having a headache later."

"I'm going to vomit on you," Mihawk promised as he rolled onto his back with difficulty.

He watched Shanks approach with a loaded tray in his hands in despair.

"So we have turmeric mixed with fresh orange juice and bananas, cereal in Greek yogurt, and a salmon, cucumber, and cream cheese bagel. Now don't ask me how this five-star menu is going to help you get better because I didn't understand a thing Law explained to me - I didn't listen either. But, I'm sure you'll love the star of this menu: an ibuprofen."

Mihawk drank the orange juice first to gulp down the ibuprofen before pleasing Shanks and eating the Greek yogurt. He glared at the bagel as if it had personally insulted him and for good reason, the smell of salmon accentuated his nausea. He then handed it to Shanks to eat and erase the tracks.

They moved on to the second activity Shanks had secretly planned after they were sure Mihawk wouldn't vomit. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to turn on his stomach to present his bare back as Shanks straddled him, but the redhead's magic fingers began to work at that moment and Mihawk lost track of his thoughts. He even forgot why he should have second thoughts about having his ex sitting on top of his thighs when Shanks pressed the right spot. The redhead was doing an amazing job of relaxing up the older man's tense, sore muscles and loosening the knots of stress. Mihawk moaned loudly as Shanks overcame a particularly tough knot.

"Well, my muse, I don't think I've ever heard you moan so loud before."

"Shut up," Mihawk muttered, embarrassed by that humiliating sound that had come out of his throat without his permission.

Shanks laughed before resuming his work punctuated by small moans coming from Mihawk which started to have some significant consequence. Having his pelvis occasionally rubbing against the older’s butt didn't help Shanks' not-so-little problem.

Unfortunately, this detail did not go unnoticed.

"Shanks ?"

"No, it's okay," Shanks muttered, standing up a little to ease the pressure, "don't mind that."

"It's a bit complicated since your friend is pressed against my butt."

"Sorry, I hadn't anticipated that detail."

Shanks had taken lessons ten years ago to know how to give massages to one of his exes and he had innocently thought of giving one to Mihawk to help him relax. He hadn't thought at all about what this position might entail. Shanks tried to think of the time he caught his grandparents doing unholy things, but even that image wasn't enough in Mihawk's presence.

"Can you pass me a pillow?" he asked timidly.

"We can stop if you prefer, I'm falling asleep anyway."

"One more reason to continue then."

Shanks resumed the massage once the pillow was strategically placed between them to protect Mihawk's virtue.

True to his words, Mihawk fell asleep, comfortably installed with his head wedged in the crook of his arms, before the end of the massage. He woke up in the same position an uncertain time later. At least he hadn't lost his ability to sleep like a mummy since he hadn't moved a yota - proof that he had really missed a lot yesterday. He checked the time on his watch when he realized the hotel room was dark, but it was barely 1 p.m. Shanks had closed the shutters so the sun wouldn't disturb Mihawk's nap.

In the meantime, Shanks had gotten a jogger out of his stuff as he tucked his part of the quilt over Mihawk and settled down with his back propped up against the headboard to watch a soccer game. Mihawk was in no position to see which teams were competing - he had never understood the point of watching a game, but there had never been anything more epic than watching two adults bicker to defend their teams by throwing popcorn at each other - but, in return, had a very good view of Shanks. The younger's face was pinched with concentration, quickly replaced by frustration as his team had just lost the ball. Shanks had tied her hair in a half ponytail to avoid being bothered by small hairs that got lost in his eyes. His chest was still perfectly intact, tanned, and developed. Mihawk wanted to get up and lick the vertical line of Shanks abs, but knew he had no right to.

He didn't need Buggy telling him to know he didn't deserve Shanks. Mihawk had already realized this at the start of the mission. In his absence, Shanks had become the best version of himself, he had accomplished his dream and made it last through albums, films, participation in events such as The Voice, and with more than generous donations to multiple associations of which he was the godfather of one of them. Shanks belonged to the Shin Sekai, the Red Pirates, and their fans; he cannot be held back by a relationship.

And who was Mihawk to hope to hold Shanks back? He was a former Shichibukai, his hands bathed in the blood of enemies of the government, who would soon be put on trial for his crimes. The closer Judgment Day came, the less Mihawk believed in his chances of winning. He was guilty of many things including knowing too much and was therefore a threat to the government. He was a social outcast and an antisocial, and he could never be a nice man, a hero, or a role model for young people no matter how hard he tried.

A metaphor quickly came to his mind: Shanks was a sunflower who lived on spotlights, cheering fans, and music, while Mihawk was the armed shadow of darkness. They were as compatible as the moon and the sun which were doomed never to cross despite their love, except during rare eclipses. This day in this hotel room was their eclipse.

Mihawk knew that Shanks was aware of their situation, but that the redhead was pretending to be naive and trying to convince himself that everything would be fine. Still, Shanks had closed the shutters to hide from the world and avoid seeing the sun which was beginning to decrease, a reminder that their time together was running out. Around 4 p.m., Law would pick up Shanks to go to the airport near the hotel.

But he also knew that Shanks wouldn't succeed in being the one leaving and that he'd try to find a way to escape from the goodbye by asking Mihawk to come with him. It was unfair to ask the redhead to make this sacrifice. So, Mihawk knew that it would be up to him to leave. He had done it before and could do it again. He was the strongest physically and mentally after all. Mihawk could protect Shanks once again.

So if Mihawk couldn’t keep his promise to share the entirety of this day with Shanks, he would make amends by making it unforgettable.

He waited for the commercials to start before he easily slipped out from under the duvet and straddled Shanks. Mihawk didn't ask permission before kissing him; the redhead had been looking at him with envy for three months and had several times referred to this sexual tension between them. Shanks' lips were just like he remembered: sweet, sinful, and so addictive.

"What is…?"

"No need to blush for something we both want," Mihawk whispered against Shanks' pink lips, "it's a yes or no."

"Yes, of course, but are you sure?"

Mihawk grabbed Shanks' hesitant hands and placed them on his hips, "wasn't it you who bragged about showing me a good time? You said sex with you was phenomenal if my memory is good."

"It is and I want you so much it hurts! But I don't want to be accused of abusing your concussion either."

"Shhh," Mihawk kissed Shanks again to convince him to let go of his worries and indulge in pleasure, "don’t ruin this with words."

They didn't talk anymore and Shanks tightened his fingers on Mihawk's hips to bring him closer to him and to his erection which had wasted no time in getting revenge for the missed opportunity of earlier. Mihawk dragged Shanks with him as he turned to lie on his back, the younger one on top of him. He let the redhead do whatever he wanted with his body since that was the only goodbye gift Mihawk could give Shanks.

The redhead ignored the clock playing against them and took his time stretching Mihawk by feeling how tight he was. In retaliation, Mihawk had the pleasure of bugging Shanks' brain by allowing him not to wear condoms - he had read the redhead's medical records and knew beforehand that they were clean.

Nonetheless, Mihawk soon stopped mocking and even forgot how to talk or what was his name when Shanks used his long experience to take him down and build him up.

Their fingers intertwined as they simultaneously reached Nirvana.

*☠️*☠️*

Mihawk didn't know how to say goodbye properly. He had tried to learn as a child by begging his father not to go on a mission he might never return to. This strategy had never worked and Mihawk had stopped trying to learn. When he was still a kid, he would try to hold back his tears and sadness until Ray left, draw him a picture so he wouldn't be forgotten, and promise to be a good boy to Shakky. But the tears always ended up flowing after Mihawk hid under his duvet. At the time, he hated Shanks who was blessed with a father who wouldn't leave him to save the world.

But then, Mihawk had grown up and Ray had allowed him to accompany him on small missions. He then understood why Ray had to leave. Mihawk himself had felt the need to unleash the beast within him, to taste the euphoria when adrenaline replaces pain and exhaustion, and to come back home victorious.

His first mission with Ray had changed him forever.

Perhaps Mihawk had been a hypocrite eighteen years ago in blaming Shanks for his drug addiction when he himself was an adrenaline addict.

The year Roger died, Mihawk put aside his student job at the SSA to focus on Shanks and avoid adding to his boyfriend's suffering by going on dangerous missions. But the lack of action had gotten the better of him and Mihawk had ended up closing in on himself. In the last months of their relationship, he had hidden behind the excuse of college, final exams, and the mandatory three-month internship he had done at the world government thanks to Ray - his old man had annoyed his old friend Garp until he finally agreed to take on Mihawk as an apprentice - to ignore Shanks and his crazy shits.

Mihawk hadn't wanted to admit until now that he might have pushed Shanks into Buggy's arms -not that he could ever excuse Shanks cheating on him, but he could understand. Maybe back then he was just waiting for an excuse to leave without having to say goodbye.

Because Mihawk just wasn't cut out for long, teary goodbyes.

That was why Mihawk waited until Shanks had fallen asleep after their sexual encounter to grab his suitcase and leave without looking back. He knocked on Law's bedroom door to thank him, get some final medical advice for his concussion, and to make the security guard promise to give Shanks his goodbye letter after the concert. In the meantime, Law would trick Shanks into believing that Mihawk was resting in his room as his headache had aggravated and he should not be disturbed.

Without realizing it, the note Mihawk left that day echoed the one he had left eighteen years ago:

"Shanks.

I'm so proud to have met this perfect version of you. You achieved your dream without hiding who you truly are behind a wall of pretense and lies. You shine so much it's dazzling.

Yet, we both know I'm not my better self right now. I'm sorry but I don't have the strength in me to be good enough for you.

You deserve better than this little love I can offer you.

-Mihawk.

PS. I never stopped loving you either, it has always been you even after, and it will always be you."

Chapter Text

Karma had a funny way of mocking Mihawk. Unless the universe was on Shanks' side, which would make the situation much more logical, beyond that Mihawk had had very little luck in his life for the past few years. Perhaps it was because of the mirror he had broken five years ago in a fight; at the time, throwing the heavy gold-framed mirror at his opponent was making a lot of sens, but he was starting to regret it now.

Mihawk was waiting in the hallway leading to the throne room where his father was having a meeting with King Nerfertari Cobra of Alabasta. Are you beginning to understand why Mihawk would feel unlucky? On good days, he woke up with nightmares about the deserts of this kingdom. He would dissociate and feel like being tied to a pole again on bad days. During the three months that had lasted his mission with Shanks, Mihawk had had more good days than bad, but since his departure, he had had a month of bad days. It may have been even worse since they landed at Alubarna airport one week ago.

The kingdom was exactly as Mihawk remembered it: sandy, arid, and endlessly large with deserts as far as the eye could see. He did his best to stay in the palace where he avoided looking beyond the rock on which the capital had been built. Keeping limited outings in the capital or the palace gardens was the minimum for Mihawk's survival. Fortunately, Ray understood and took it upon himself to accompany the king outside on official outings.

Staying in the palace also had its negative point: the guards watched him at all times. King Cobra and Princess Vivi had been more than welcoming to Mihawk and they trusted him to carry out the mission, but this trust was not reciprocated with Igaram, the captain of the royal guard, Pell, and Chaka. Crocodile was blamed for this lack of trust. His colleague Shichibukai had done a lot of damage to this kingdom which was slowly trying to recover and although royalty was willing to give Mihawk a chance on the premise that he was a different person from Crocodile, for Igarama, Pell, and Chaka, all Shichibukai were the same. So Mihawk ignored them most of the time since they weren't overtly threatening him.

What could Mihawk do anyway? Complain to Rayleigh that the royal guards didn't like him but were at least cordial. His father would laugh until the end of time. And then, Mihawk had quickly in his life realized that indifference was the best weapon and that his golden eyes were his best asset. Most of the time, he just had to raise an eyebrow to destabilize his interlocutor.

He shrugged his shoulders a little, his feet slightly apart, his hands behind his back in a professional posture as the servants opened the wide solid oak doors. First out was Princess Vivi who ran out of the room - not exactly a princely attitude but Mihawk soon realized that Vivi was not a traditional princess. She stopped running when she saw him waiting outside the door, his back to the palace windows, and her smile brightened.

"Hello, Mihawk."

He ignored the use of his first name since Rayleigh had insisted that the royal family call them by their first name since they were confused about why the son and father didn’t share the same surname; King Cobra quickly adapted since Ray and he were old friends, which didn't surprise Mihawk who realized at a young age that Ray knew everyone.

"Hello princess," he replied, bowing imperceptibly, "karoo," he added when he saw the little duckling on the princess's shoulder.

"How many times should I tell you to call me Vivi?"

Mihawk raised an eyebrow which made the princess smile: the father and the son were so different and yet so complementary at the same time, the oldest was outgoing and led most of the conversations while the son remained discreet, attentive, and tense. Vivi had once tried to surprise Mihawk because she was bored, but her plan backfired when the SSA agent disappeared around a bend in the hallway only to appear behind her to surprise her.

"May I know what puts you in such a good mood, princess ?"

"Don't I have the right to be happy?" she asked him with a wide smile filled with excitement.

"Of course, except you seem particularly excited today."

"Nothing escapes you, does it?" She sighed at his characterful laconicism and added: "Our capital welcomes the greatest singers in the world for a charity concert. With the money collected, we will be able to help our kingdom. It's incredibly exciting to see my idea come to fruition, but it's also so much weight to carry… What if the concert was a complete failure? The stage could fall, the singers may drop us at the last second, and if the live crashes at the time of the rebroadcast?”

"You won't know if you don't try," Mihawk replied unsure of what else to say to comfort the princess. He knew how to run a traditional concert for having managed the supervision of the Red Pirates concerts, but the "Golden Singalong" was not the reason for his presence and he had no skills to manage a music festival of this magnitude. "And either way, Rayleigh and I are at your service so if you need to shake up a star or two….," he trailed off to let Vivi's imagination run wild.

She laughed before reaching for a flyer in the pocket of her linen pants, "You make me think I forgot to give you the Singalong schedule. The ephemeral trio ASL of The Voice agreed to reform for the time of a song to inaugurate the evening. Isn't that great? This singalong will mark the start of an incredible new year!"

The ASL Trio was the nickname the hosts of The Voice gave to Ace and his two friends, Sabo and Luffy, whom he met on the TV show. Ace had participated after returning from Europe to surprise his brother who was a coach at the same time The viewers and the rest of the judges loved his performance and Ace went all the way to the final where he had to face his two friends. Sabo and Luffy, who was the representative of Shanks' team, were the only reasons Ace wanted to stay on the show since he met them in the room where the participants had all gathered for the Blind Auditions. During the grand finale, the viewers did not know who to choose and the "ASLwin" trend on Twitter ended up convincing the organizers of the show that there would not be one winner that year, but three. Since their victory, the trio had released a few singles together for fun but they mostly focused on their personal careers: Ace followed Whitebeard's footsteps, Sabo dueted with Koala, his childhood friend, and Luffy formed his own group "The Mugiwara".

Mihawk ripped the flyer into confetti after recognizing the name of a more than familiar band. Luckily, Vivi was already gone by then.

Rayleigh was laughing with Cobra as they exited the throne room, royal advisers behind them. He abandoned his conversation with the king to join his son and report to him what had been said during the meeting. Rayleigh and Mihawk were reassessing their men's position while walking through the halls of the palace when Mihawk stopped in the middle of a windowless and servantless hallway to finally scold his father away from prying ears.

"And where are we going to place our men during the concert?"

Ray turned to face his son, "Who tell you?"

"Vivi was nervous about the end of the concert prep and told me about it," Mihawk confessed crossing his arms over his chest, "did you even try to explain to them that the concert was a bad idea?"

"Old age must really be playing tricks on me because I completely forgot," Ray replied, pretending to be interested in a carefully carved china vase.

"You never leave anything to chance. You want the show to happen. For what? It’s too big a risk to take, even for you."

"You worry too much, Scum."

"And you not enough, Garbage. The SSA is short of manpower, short of money, and short of opportunity. We need the success of this mission to attract new customers. We are lucky that Nerfertari decided to override his reluctance and chose the SSA because of your friendship. You can't screw it all up because you want to enjoy a free concert."

Ray sighed and took the glasses off his nose to clean them. He was missing the times when Mihawk was young and had so much to learn. Now Ray regretted having to rely on his son's experience and abilities, although that sometimes had its advantages. He regretted not having anything more to teach his son about this job.

"I'm not doing this for the concert..."

"Oh no? So why did you invite Shakky if not for the concert? You always invite her to take advantage of free vacations when the missions are located in heavenly places.”

"And you, why are you also against the concert?" Ray shot back, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Because we won't get paid to do the extra work of having to protect the guests and the crowd that night. And then, because it offers a perfect opportunity for the Gild Tesoro to get their hands on the plans for a weapon that could destroy the world. Other than that, I'm totally for this pointless entertainment."

"Uh uh," Ray said halfheartedly, "whose reluctance has nothing to do with a certain red-haired singer who will be performing that day? What has it been? More than a month since you ran away?"

"Shanks will be there?" asked Mihawk, feigning surprise -he had read the name of the Red Pirates on the flyer-, "thank you for letting me know. And I didn't run away. It was a logical choice."

"Ah yes, that good old logic. Believe in my experience: logic has no place in love. There is nothing more irrational, stupid, and suicidal than loving someone, and yet there is nothing more beautiful in this world"

"You only become poetic when you've been drinking. Yet we share the same room and I know you haven't been drinking. So I take it you miss Shakky."

Ray shrugged after being so easily seen through by his son, "Tell me, Scum, why are you so afraid of love?"

"Because you and mom traumatized me when I was little and now I'm unable to love," Mihawk replied with a smirk.

Rayleigh patted his on the shoulder with a smile as he walked down the hall.

"Where are you going ?" he asked his father, "I hope you throw yourself in a trash can so I can convince the Princess to stop the concert."

"Worse, I'm going shopping with your mother. Do you want to come, Scumyl?"

"I’d prefer to get lost in the desert."

They both froze and Ray turned to look at his son in surprise, "Is it a good sign if you start laughing about it?"

Mihawk shrugged since he didn't have the answer to that question. The memories were still painful, yet it became easier and easier to forget over time. He had been through a lot of shit as Shichibukai and always ended up forgetting and moving on.Mihawk had become adept at repressing his feelings in little boxes and throwing them away when he ran out of space.

He hoped to have better luck next year.

*☠️*☠️*

The watch on his wrist was the heirloom Roger left him when he died. The old man had bought it with his first salary and had not been able to part with it until his death. For as long as he could remember, Roger wore his watch every day and it had been a source of great pride for Mihawk to earn it. He had always tried to take a great care of it, but it was an impossible wish with his profession. In less than twenty years, Mihawk had had the dial glass replaced three times and the leather strap replaced once after he stained it with his blood.

The old and classy watch was on his wrist when he was captured. Mihawk thought he lost it forever when William took it from him, but Ray recognized the watch on his son's torturer's wrist and retrieved it. While Mihawk was in intensive care, Rayleigh had it repaired to spare his son this sight. At this point, it would have been easier to buy a new watch for Mihawk but Ray did not care about the price. Now Roger's watch had virtually no original parts: the sand had damaged the dial, the leather strap had been stained with Mihawk's blood and cracked in places where he had fought the bonds holding his wrists, and the glass had yellowed and was broken.

The watch was a vestige of Roger and his trust in his best friend's son but was also a symbol : the watch, like Mihawk, could be broken and its parts replaced until there was nothing original left, but the needles kept turning anyway.

At this moment, the watch indicated that it was one hour before midnight, before the countdown to the start of a new year. And Mihawk felt like this year wouldn't be kind to him either as the town's power plant died. The capital before as bright as a lighthouse in the middle of a desert was now plunged into total darkness. A hoot of protest could be heard outside.

Mihawk tried to press a switch but the bulb did not light up and a servant confirmed to him that the blackout was general.

It was no coincidence.

"Hopefully it might just be the concert that knocked out the city's power grid, but know that I'm disinheriting you if you dare say 'I told you so'," Ray said through their listening device.

Mihawk didn't need to see his dad to know that Ray didn't believe in a simple malfunction either. The concert had been planned for days and several tests ensured that the power plant would hold up. No, the Gild Tresoro had started their attack just as Mihawk had planned from the start.

He looked at the screens in front of him which were connected to the city's security cameras and which fortunately operated on an auxiliary network but those of the power plant had been sabotaged.

"Our agents and your guards are probably dead," he said to Ray and Pell who was next to him.

For the concert, Igaram had planned to protect the princess and the king himself, while Chaka would control the crowd gathered in the central place and Pell would lend a hand to the SSA in watching over Pluto - a secret nuclear weapon whose plans were hidden in the Tomb of the Kings at Alubarna. The two leaders of the SSA had placed their few men to protect the power plant and the tomb, the two nerve centers of the mission. Ray had settled in the belfry in front of the palace to be in the heart of the action since he left it to Mihawk to coordinate them all. For their part, Mihawk and Pell had commandeered the guard checkpoint near the entrance to the palace.

Pell pressed buttons on the control console in front of him and tried to contact his men, but to no avail. Either Alubarna's communications were jammed or these men were dead.

"Their next destination will be the tomb," Mihawk warned as he watched the screens but the new darkness was working against them; they couldn't see anything without the infrared cameras that the Alabasta’s guards couldn’t afford.

"I don't see any enemy movement, but the crowd is starting to get worried and agitated," Rayleigh informed them, who was probably sitting on a folding chair with his binoculars in his hands to enjoy the concert and a sniper casually posed on the nearest wall.

Pell turned to Mihawk, "Chaka's men will have to focus on calming the panic of the crowd. The Gild might pass between our nets."

"We know where they're going and that's a good point," Mihawk replied, quickly analyzing the situation, "but our men will not oppose sufficient force if they have to face the whole Gild at the Tomb. We must restart the plant so that we avoid panic and have a visual on our targets."

"I can go and get the power plant running again."

"And I can go help our men."

Mihawk frowned at the two proposals before deciding a second later; they had to act quickly while making no mistakes: "Pell go ahead but Silvers you stay in your place and you keep an eye on the crowd. Gan Tesoro must not be the type to lead the assault with his men. I'm going to take care of the Tomb and find something to distract the crowd while I’m at it."

"You have an idea?" Rayleigh asked him with a small smile that Mihawk could easily imagine.

"Yes, but I hope he accepts."

Pell and Mihawk came out of the lookout post at the same time. They separated at the palace gates where Pell had to report to Igaram and the royal family, but Mihawk did not wait for him and walked the lawn of the royal garden.

Princess Vivi had the stage that would welcome the artists for the "golden singalong" set up near the wall that protected the palace. The stage was located near the central staircase, which allowed access to the royal residence, so that the population of Alabasta gathered in the central square could have a good view of the stage and the two giant screens which bordered it. For the occasion, a kiosk had been set up in the middle of the square so that the concert could be recorded by a camera. Ironically, tonight the world had had its eyes turned to Alabasta and the first major event since the fall of Crocodile, until the blackout anyway.

Also, to accommodate the fifteen singers or groups, the princess had invited them to stay in the guest rooms of the palace, and white tents had been temporarily erected in the right part of the garden for the after-concert evening.

Thus, a crowd consisting of important Alabasta personalities and singers was gathered in the palace garden. They were all talking to each other to try to figure out what was going on.

Mihawk pulled out his phone when he couldn't spot who he was looking for in the crowd.

"Damn cargo pants," he swore under his breath as he fumbled in his pockets for his phone.

A laugh sounded in his right ear, "I heard that, Scumy."

"And what are you going to do? Take money from my imaginary salary?" he asked cheekily, typing in his password.

"Keep talking to your dad like that and no more pocket money for you…"

Mihawk knew that as a sane human being - or as sane as a spy could be - he should have retrieved the tracking devices he hid on Shanks before he left. But his concussion had made him forget this detail and afterwards, he hadn't had the heart to erase Shanks' settings on his not-very-legal tracing application. It was comforting to be able to know Shanks' whereabouts with the snap of a finger. Mihawk had spent way too much time in the past few weeks on his app watching what Shanks was doing.

The app worked a bit like Maps where color symbols showed him where the person he was looking for was on a map. On the map of the town of Alubarna, Mihawk could see that Rayleigh was still in the belfry, that Shanks was seven hundred meters away from him to his right, and that Law and Zoro were right in front of him.

Mihawk headed for them first.

Law and Zoro had reunited at the start of the concert, and officially they were helping each other to keep a visual on their respective charges, but unofficially they were enjoying each other's presence as much as possible before they had to go their separate ways. Law had remained Shanks' head of security while Zoro had been given a new assignment: babysitting the Mugiwara, of which he was more or less the vice-captain. They were both surprised when Mihawk suddenly appeared in front of them. The eldest of the three ignored the codes of politeness and ordered without a preamble:

"Your holidays are over, Roronoa. I requisition you for the night."

Zoro straightened up from where he was leaning against a tent pole upon hearing the tone in his ex-mentor's voice. For him, Mihawk had always been a model of coldness and authority; he spoke little, was often sarcastic, and was eternally dissatisfied. But sometimes, when things took a turn for the worse, Mihawk's voice sounded even more authoritative and deadly than usual.

Last time, his mentor had suffered a head injury and Shanks had been kidnapped by a stalker.

Under this memory, Zoro was ready to obey Mihawk's orders without complaining about having to abandon Luffy and be separated from Law.

"What do I have to do?"

"You need to station yourself at the westernmost entrance to Alubarna to block the way for the members of the Gild. Some may flee after meeting me," Mihawk turned to Law and asked, "Do you know where that entrance is?"

Law nodded, "It’s the one near the Tomb of the Kings?"

"Congratulations, you have earned the right to accompany Zoro. Don't lose sight of your boyfriend if you don’t want to search for him in the vast desert of Alabasta.”

Mihawk was pretty sure he heard Zoro calling him a "heartless bastard" but he didn't mind and unlocked his phone to check if Shanks had moved or not.

He put his phone in one of his many pockets when he no longer needed the app: he had found Shanks. His fiery red hair was easily spotted even from behind, as was his white shirt with ¾ of the buttons open and his baggy pink pants with brown palm trees on them. And, as usual, Shanks had drawn the attention of a small group to himself and was telling a joke, a glass of rum in his hand.

Mihawk silenced his hesitation and the little voice that told him that this was actually not a good idea, and walked towards the group. Beck was the first to see Mihawk behind them and he warned his best friend who turned around in surprise seeing his former bodyguard in front of him. They stared at each other for a few seconds and Mihawk had all the pleasure of seeing the good mood replaced by surprise, then by anger.

"Mr Dracule," Shanks greeted angrily.

Mihawk rolled his eyes knowing he didn't have the time, let alone the inclination, to deal with Shanks' anger right now, "I need your help."

"You need my help?" repeated Shanks with an incredulous and mocking chuckle, "that would really be a first! What do you want? A cure for concussions? Or for an advice on how to say goodbye properly?"

"I see you are as mature and responsible as ever, Red."

"Oh, excuse me if you don't like my immature adult attitude, dear Mihawk. You see, I really tried to be a responsible and serious adult in order to be someone trustworthy for you! And that still wasn't enough for you, so I decided to go back to the basics: acting like a child, alcohol, and music."

Mihawk opened his mouth, ready to be patient and to quickly explain the urgency of the situation, but he was cut off by Shanks who hadn't finished emptying his bag: "I've loved you for these three months, I respected your boundaries -most of the time-, and stopped the guys from bothering you. Why wasn't that enough for you?!”

Tears welled up in the corners of Shanks's red eyes, "For the first time in my life, I-I don't understand you! I thought we were fine! That we could find a way to make us work, together! But you left! For what? Why, Mihawk?"

Zoro's voice, who had logged into the private SSA network, startled him, "Are you getting me, Hawk-One? Mercenaries try to enter inside the Tomb. Do you want the panther and me to continue or to stop them?”

Mihawk's brain stopped working for barely a second from an overload of information. The red eyes clouded with tears had made him hesitate.

"No, the plan continues, Tiger-Two. Tell the men watching on the Tomb to follow you ; I’ll deal with mercenaries myself."

There was a silence where Shanks' eyes widened, as if he had just realized that the situation was dangerous, but Mihawk had no more time to lose with Shanks.

Before leaving, he added in a voice that showed his disappointment and pain: "You can take your anger out on me and blame me for everything that goes wrong between us, I can take it. But don't think for a moment that you can say "sorry" and expect the heart you carelessly broke to be magically fixed or that I can forget about Buggy and your 52 one-night stands. Do you want me to trust you, to lean on you? But you betray me every time the situation gets too hard for you! When are you going to stop being self-centered and realize that I left because I am in pain?"

Shanks didn't answer and Mihawk started to turn away, "I don’t know why I thought you could help me," he muttered under his breath.

Mihawk was about to walk over to Ace to ask him for a favor when a hand grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving, "Okay, what do you need?"

"Your instruments have an auxiliary power source, right?" Mihawk asked, ignoring his surprise at hearing the serious tone in the redhead's voice.

Shanks nodded, “yes, it’s in our tent. We can set it up in less than a minute since our instruments are already on stage. What can I do?"

"Well, then create the loudest diversion in the world, will you?"

Mihawk left when Shanks promised not to let him down. He ignored the feeling in his stomach and ran down the stairs to reach the central plaza.

The panicked crowd fell silent as guitar notes from the stage sounded and then, Shank’s mesmerizing voice echoed easily in the quiet plaza before some girls shouted excitedly.

Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep

Dreaming about the things that we could be

But baby, I've been, I've been praying hard

Said, "No more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars"

Yeah, we'll be counting stars

Mihawk had managed to bypass half the excited crowd when Shanks paused to check if his teammates had connected the last cables to the external battery. For the next part of the song, Shanks was accompanied by drums and an electric guitar.

Someone raised his phone to the sky, his flashlight opened to light the plaza, and other people followed.

...I see this life, like a swinging vine …

Mihawk was hardly surprised when fans started singing the lyrics, screaming in excitement and dancing among themselves, probably thinking the blackout was part of the Red Pirates' spectacular entrance. They were especially surprised to hear Shanks sing the first hit of his career, "Counting Stars", with such passion and energy.

…Old, but I'm not that old

Mihawk had arrived at the temple filled with enemies and empty of allies as he had requested it.

Young, but I'm not that bold

He hid behind a ruin, counted his number of opponents, and recovered the silencer of his rifle in one of his pockets.

And I don't think the world is sold

The crowd grew even louder when the ASL trio joined the Red Pirates on stage to sing with Shanks, they especially wanted to playfully bother him, since none of this was planned.

On just doing what we're told

Mihawk took advantage of Shanks' loud diversion that camouflaged his footsteps to do what needed to be done to protect Pluto. He had never fought with a pop musical background to conceal any sound he might make but Mihawk barely listened to the lyrics as he fired and dodged and reloaded his rifle.

Shanks had come to the end of the song with the last chorus, the crowd singing every word with him and clapping their hands rhythmically, when a sword nearly slit Mihawk's throat. He parried the blow just in time with a throwing knife.

...Lately, I've been, I've been losin' sleep

"This is with what the best swordsman in the world defends himself? A butter knife?" asked a mocking voice behind him.

Dreamin' about the things that we could be

"Can I know the reason for your presence here, Bonez?"

But baby, I've been, I've been prayin' hard

Daz Bonez, Crocodile's right-hand man and better known by his criminal nickname "Mr 1", had escaped the police and had been a fugitive ever since the Shichibukai arrest. Also, the criminal believed himself to be a talented swordsman but had never won a fight against Mihawk.

Said no more countin' dollars, we'll be countin' stars

"Don't pretend to be cordial, Hawkeyes!" Daz angrily attacked him again with his sword. "Crocodile trusted you and you betrayed him! Why aren't you in jail like the other Shichibukai?"

Lately, I've been, I've been losin' sleep

"I'm too picky about hygiene to be locked up in a seedy prison," Mihawk replied with a smirk; he was far from impressed by Daz and his sword. "Otherwise you clumsily forgot to answer my first question: what are you doing here?"

Dreamin' about the things that we could be

"Isn't it obvious? Crocodile wanted Pluto and I will give it to him."

But baby, I've been, I've been prayin' hard…

Mihawk smiled as his knife sliced Bonez's skin, he was now more focused on his future fight than by the end of the song, "yes, because Crocodile will definitely have great use of it in prison."

Bonez glared at him before the fight suddenly escalated. They fought in the Temple of the Kings, a sword against knives. Mihawk could feel the adrenaline, familiar and exhilarating, burning through his veins as his blood flowed. Mihawk was excellent with a rifle since he had very good vision, but his weapon of choice is and will always be sharp weapons: from large swords to small knives. As a child, he had taken fencing lessons and participated in many competitions from local to national - but never global to maintain his anonymity - and had all won them.

Mihawk smiled when he realized that he was still as talented even after these last months of inactivity. Especially since Bonez was a gifted opponent who managed to break through Mihawk's defense on several occasions: he struck the SSA agent with the back of his sword, sliced his upper arm and thigh, and pushed him back against a wall with a blow of his foot in the stomach.

But no matter how good Bonez was, at a sword fight, Mihawk will always be victorious.

Bonez was unconscious in the center of the Temple when Mihawk was joined by Law and Zoro who had borrowed a Jeep to get to the entrance as quickly as possible. As Mihawk had expected, a few Gild mercenaries had fled at the start of Shanks' performance and when Ray had won against their leader, Gild Tesoro.

The trio went through the emergency elevator to discreetly return to the palace plateau. They didn't feel like fighting a frenzied crowd singing along with the Red Pirates, the ASL Trio, and Brook the Hummer to a cover of "Binks no Sake". Intoxicated with excitement, Shanks had gone beyond what Mihawk asked of him and continued to monopolize the stage with the ASL trio to the delight of the crowd who were enjoying it even more now that the light had returned to the capital. And, since Vivi's schedule was already turned upside down, singer and violinist Brook joined them on stage.

Thus, the Hawk, the Tiger, and the Panther collapsed on the left side of the royal garden to quietly heal their wounds. Fortunately, nothing serious, and Law didn't need anyone's help to heal them. They were soon joined by Rayleigh, a victorious Pell, Igaram, the king, and his smirking daughter.

Rayleigh let Law clean the cut on his cheek before explaining to the group what Mihawk had already guessed: Gild Tesoro and Daz Bonez had made an alliance in order to help each other; Tesoro to get rich thanks to Pluto and Daz to free Crocodile.

"And there's something else," Rayleigh said cryptically before handing over to Vivi.

The young woman had an embarrassed smile before admitting: "I saw your fight after the power plant was restarted by Pell. And I thought the world deserved to see you fight the second of a former Shichibukai since your trial is soon."

"What ?" Mihawk asked dumbfounded, looking from his father to Vivi. "What have you done ?"

He couldn't remember exactly at what point in the fight the light had been turned on again, was it when he was mocking Diaz at the beginning or after?

"I was settled at the monitoring station when the camera filming the concert for the live turned on again so I told myself that I could mess with the giant screens so that instead of showing a zoom of the stage, it projects your fight. The world heard you turn down Diaz's offer to ally with him, isn't that good news?"

Midway through the fight, when Diaz realized he wouldn't win, he asked Mihawk’s help to steal Pluto and free Crocodile, but Mihawk sarcastically refused. He didn't see the point of becoming a criminal now, especially to free a thug like Crocodile.

"It will be a very bad one if Crocodile watched the Live, he is quite resentful," Mihawk stood up and put his hand on the young woman’s shoulder, "thank you, princess."

"It's Vivi!"

"Good luck if you think you can get through his bad temper with your pretty smile," Ray muttered from where he sat by the fountain next to Zoro, "he's a lost cause."

"You're once again showing such great fatherly solidarity, Garbage."

Rayleigh shrugged, but changed his mind at the last second when he saw Shanks running towards him, "Here's your loverboy coming… Thanks for your help, Little Shit. I'm thinking of hiring you to have more background music for my next fight."

"It was totally epic!" approved Zoro, excitedly putting his hand on his sword.

Mihawk rolled his eyes knowing the two were totally going to talk about it again at the next meeting to save the SSA. Mihawk won't survive another month in the company if he has to put up with the uniform and discussions about what music the SSA anthem should be.

"You're lucky you didn't break a bone already, old man," he said, trying to ignore Shanks' gaze on him.”And I almost forgot: I told you this concert was a non-logical choice."

The redhead chuckled as he heard Ray and Mihawk bickering. They had been interacting like this ever since MIhawk was old enough to have a backing - since he was eight years old - and certainly had an unorthodox relationship.

Shanks still remembered the time Roger and Rayleigh had a real argument after Ray called MIhawk "scum". He also didn't understand why a father would call his son that, but then Mihawk climbed onto a stool to stand between the two adults and explained the private joke to Roger. In French class, Mihawk had learned a new word "canaille" and Ray had thought he was doing something good by typing the word on a translation site to then use it as a pet name for his son. But Ray had misunderstood and typed "racaille" instead. The "Scoundrel" had then turned into "Scum". The error stuck, and a few months later, Mihawk began naming his father "Garbage" in retaliation.

However, Shanks had never seen such a close relationship as the one between Ray and Mihawk - which made his heart sink when he thought of his relationship with Roger. Ray had literally killed to save Mihawk from the hot halls of hell.

"I'd be willing to be your personal stereo if you'd finally agree to give me an agent badge," Shanks teased just for the pleasure of seeing the vein of anger in Mihawk's face deepen. "Can I talk to you?"

Mihawk sighed knowing the conversation was inevitable and motioned for Shanks to go talk somewhere private. They walked towards one of the palace walls with an uncomfortably awkward silence between them. There had been silences between them before but never so heavy and awkward. Mihawk regretted these silences where they didn’t have to talk to understand the other. Here, he stayed two steps behind Shanks and kept his gaze stubbornly fixed on his boots.

He remembered every word he had thrown at Shanks earlier. He regretted having said them, having revealed a tiny part of his doubts, fears, and pains to Shanks, but he had meant all of them. Mihawk had always sought to spare the redhead since they were children and he had started again last month when he left. The poor, little Shanks who always needed Mihawk to defend him. And Mihawk, older and stronger, had never bothered to take the hits before, to bear the pain for both of them.

But he was accumulating way too much right now: William, the trial, and being back in Alabasta exacerbated his suffering.

Mihawk had been suffocating since being released from the hospital after his capture and he was hurt that no one understood him. He had explained it to Shanks, but the redhead had listened without trying to understand. Shanks had imposed on Mihawk a love that the older one had tried to respond to. Mihawk had really tried to respond to the smiles, the knowing winks, the sharing of secrets, the silent dance in a chalet, and the feelings of love that radiated from Shanks. But he couldn't. It was exhausting to pretend to be fine and letting himself be loved, especially the really bad parts, was too much for Mihawk.

Shanks had put Mihawk on a pedestal and had imagined him as an incredibly strong spy, without seeing that the older man's shell was cracked.

Shanks believed he could pick up where they left off eighteen years ago, and Mihawk wished he could do the same. He wished he could forget about the upcoming trial and his uncertain future with the SSA. What would happen to the company if Mihawk was put in jail? Would he be able to save it even if he was proven innocent? Mihawk's life was already too complicated to add his conflicting feelings with Shanks, who had abandoned him and betrayed his trust eighteen years ago for Buggy.

Mihawk was like a plate that Shanks had thrown against a wall for a better one after Roger died. Since then, the redhead had tried to put the pieces of Mihawk's heart back together with glue and love, and he had apologized. But, in the end, despite Shanks' best efforts, the plate remained broken and could never be used again. The best would probably be to throw it away.

Above all, Mihawk was unsure that Shanks would truly be ready to fight for their love if he knew the full truth about him. The ugly, terrible, and cruel truth. The one truth that only Rayleigh could understand and accept. How could a civilian accept all the harm Mihawk had caused as Shichibukai? Mihawk didn't want to stain Shanks with the blood on his hands.

It was easier to leave than to give the choice to Shanks.

Easier to leave a note than to explain why they couldn't be together.

It was too dangerous, there were too many risks, and Mihawk didn't deserve to be loved.

Mihawk was physically snapped out of his thoughts by Shanks who grabbed him by the front of his compression t-shirt, which clung to his skin but at least had the merit of accentuating his musculature, and pushed him against the wall.

"I'm so mad at you right now," Shanks muttered angrily, his mouth inches from Mihawk's.

He was sure Shanks was going to hit him but he was roughly kissed instead.

The kiss had nothing to do with the tender, loving ones they had shared in the hotel room over a month ago. This time their mouths met violently, their teeth clashing carelessly, as they fought for dominance. Shanks placed his hands on Mihawk's jaws to control the angle of the kiss. He took revenge by putting his hands on the redhead’s buttocks to bring him closer.

"You were so fucking hot there. I couldn't take my eyes off you the whole fight," Shanks whispered as he pulled away from the kiss to bite Mihawk's neck who moaned at the harsh treatment.

Mihawk really moaned in pain when Shanks unwittingly pressed the bandage around his bicep.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Mihawk chuckled in disbelief when Shanks' personality changed with the snap of a finger. He grabbed Shanks' hand and rested it on the bandage that covered a cut, "Who said I didn't like a little pain?"

"Don't say things like that to me, you'll kill me."

"You better not die when you have things to do to me," Mihawk pushed Shanks back a little when the redhead tried to kiss him again, "but we won't do anything against that wall."

“Can we go to your room? According to Vivi, the staff rooms are closer to the palace entrance. Whereas mine is a bit ostentatious and away from the entrance."

Mihawk grimaced at the proposal, "I share my room with Rayleigh and Shakky and they are going to be annoying if they catch us in bed together again."

Shanks shivered at the memory of them, 20 and 18, in bed jerking off each other before being surprised by Shakky. He grabbed Mihawk's hand, their fingers unintentionally intertwining, to lead him into his room.

Princess Vivi gave Shanks the best guest room since he was the guest of honor at the Singalong. However, Mihawk didn't have time to admire the lavish decoration because Shanks pushed him against the door right after they entered and then the younger undressed him and started marking Mihawk’s skin in a lot of different with his tongue, teeths and fingers.

Then, Shanks dropped Mihawk into the bed to pass to the fun part.

Since he was already naked, Mihawk waited for Shanks to undress while looking at the decor around the bed. His golden eyes widened when he noticed that the four-poster bed had been placed in the center of the room and positioned so that the headboard pointed towards the large bay window. This way, the guests had a perfect view of the capital. In the foreground, Mihawk saw that the concert was still in full swing, waiting for midnight to strike, and then, beyond, the endless sandy and dry desert.

Mihawk felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he slowly drowned in his unpleasant memories of the Alabasta desert. There, even breathing was an ordeal as Mihawk had felt like his lungs were filled with sand or pieces of glass were stuck in his throat.

He jumped a little when a hand touched his shoulder, Mihawk, are you okay? It’s okay if you don’t want that…”

"Curtains…," Mihawk muttered, "...close the curtains, please."

Shanks swore when he finally noticed that the large bay window overlooked Mihawk's worst nightmare.

"You want to talk about it ? or we can go back to the garden for the count?,” Shanks asked uncertainly after closing the curtains and returning to bed.

"To see someone jump at your throat to be your first kiss of the year? No, thank you, but you can go if you want. I will stay here, naked and waiting for someone to have their way with me."

Shanks fell into the trap Mihawk set for him as he manhandled the older man on his hands and knees. Shanks' anger flared up again as his jealousy and possessiveness took over his understanding and kindness. Earlier, Mihawk had implicitly given him the right to hurt him in a good way - by being more fiery, rough, and less cautious than last time - and Shanks intended to take full advantage of that.

Outside, a countdown began but Mihawk was too busy with Shanks deep inside him to notice.

Fireworks literally rang out as Shanks collapsed in exhaustion onto Mihawk's back after the climax of their fierce and brutal encounter.

*☠️*☠️*

Mihawk woke up to an empty bedroom the next morning.

He laughed when he realized that Shanks had slipped away while he slept: the room was too quiet, the curtains still half closed, and the redhead's suitcase had disappeared.

Unread text messages were waiting for him on his phone.

Red: "My muse, know that I have no particular reason to leave this room, especially when you look like a freakin greek god, other than the itchy one to return the favor of waking up in bed alone after the best night of your life. See you soon, I love you ❤️ -your favorite pirate."

Red: "I just ran into Ray in the elevator and he had THE smirk on his face whenever he looked at me. He knows 😬😱"

Chapter Text

The stars were shining that night. They were multiple, luminous, and soothing. Some were even older than mankind. Their eternity brought peace to Mihawk. They were there before he was born and would always be there after him to shine until the end of time.

Ever since he was young, Mihawk would wait until nightfall to go out into the garden, sit in the bell-shaped gazebo, and try to spot the constellations with a book Rouge had given him.

Growing up, Mihawk had continued to raise his head to gaze at the stars which were the same no matter where he was on the planet.

He was looking up at the stars for that familiar feeling of mindfulness, peace, and serenity when Shakky joined him in the gazebo. She put down two glasses and a bottle of wine before sitting next to him on the wooden bench, a yellow blanket over her shoulders to keep from catching cold, and just like Mihawk, indulged in the pleasure of watching the show above them through the glass roof. Shakky reached out to Mihawk who shared the cigarette he had stolen from his mother's stash under the bench. He left it for her while he poured them a drink.

"Don't be too hard on your dad, you know how he gets when he's anxious and you're no better either."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow at his mother, "you can leave if you came to defend him."

"I don't take any side when you're both like that," she handed him the cigarette to reach for her own drink. "Just because you're trying to hide it doesn't mean we don't know you're anxious about tomorrow."

"I'm not anxious."

Shakky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his obvious lie since Mihawk had taken refuge in the gazebo after his argument with Rayleigh five hours ago. It was nearly 1 a.m. and Mihawk should be sleeping for the opening of his trial tomorrow. Instead, he gazed up at the stars hoping to find perfect inner calm while finishing his mother's pack of cigarettes. He guessed that none of the Silvers family would be sleeping tonight since Shakky had joined him and Ray was probably passing the time cleaning his guns.

"I made peace with my arrest" he admitted after a few seconds of silence. "It is the logical outcome of a catastrophic sequence of events."

Shakky stopped looking at the stars to observe the pensive expression on her son's face, she raised an eyebrow and asked, "Do you really think we'll let you go to jail? Rayleigh already has thirty-five plans for you to escape, one of which would be to mimic one of the Fast & Furious endings."

"I don't want you to save me. Leave me to rot in jail and enjoy your retirement plans in peace. I will survive."

"You are our only son, Mihawk. If you fall, we fall with you, that's what family is for."

He sighed in defeat and dropped the subject which was already the reason he had argued with Rayleigh over the meal. Mihawk didn't want to be saved when he would be inevitably sent to prison with his former comrades Shichibukai to keep him company - he was hoping to share his cell with Kuma or Jinbei and away from those of Crocodile and Doflamingo - but Rayleigh and Shakky wouldn't listen. They had planned to escape him no matter the risks, no matter if they would have to spend the rest of their old age fleeing from the World Government, and no matter if they would have to kidnap Mihawk to succeed.

His parents were crazy and stubborn, which Mihawk realized a long time ago, unfortunately. And they were too shrewd, Shakky had been a good spy before hanging up her jacket to become a mother and a wife.

"I've never seen you happier than when you're with him," she whispered, putting her empty glass back on the table.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, ready to play dumb, but his mother added: "I know you had pretended to get back together, but I saw how you stared at him: you were happy. He was too. The friends you once brought home have never made you so happy."

"The Shichibukais weren't my friends," he said, pouring himself another drink, "and Crocodile, Doflamingo, Boa, and Jinbei invited themselves here to meet Ray."

He still remembered the day the four had rung the doorbell of his childhood home, gifts in hand as an excuse to be invited in. It was a game among the Shichibukai to annoy the others as much as possible by breaking into their homes - they were young and bored between missions, and then, over time, the tradition remained. The quartet had declared themselves victors that day, but Mihawk avenged himself, as always. No one dared bother him ever again after Mihawk hid 300 mini rubber ducks in the house Dolfy and Corcy shared as "roommates" - they weren't allowed to date between Shichibukai. Oh, the first hundred were easy to find, but the other two hundred others... Dolfy got duck phobia afterward.

"At least if I go to jail I will have an excuse not to accompany Boa to her Shopping session," Mihawk added with a smirk under the desperate gaze of his mother who had tried everything to make her son make friends of his age but had always failed; Mihawk was a loner at heart.

"You're not going to jail," Shakky repeated before getting up, removing his blanket and laying it on Mihawk's lap, who wasn't dressed enough for the coldness of January, "don't forget to go to sleep, in your bed it will be better."

Shakky was near the door when Mihawk confessed in a low voice, "I steal Shanks' happiness, that's how I'm so happy in his presence."

"Mihawk…?"

"Shanks is like joy incarnate or a big bubble of positive waves and good humor. It is easy to be in his presence because his joy is infectious. I have a dangerous feeling that everything will be fine when I'm with him," Mihawk waited until his mother was near him again to look her in the eyes and add: "I preferred to leave before stealing all his joy and to leave him empty and broken."

Shakky knelt down and her hand touched Mihawk's knee, "I don't think you're stealing anything from him, honey. You have this impression that Shanks is always happy because your presence makes him happy. He was sad and morose, as if his light had gone out, after your breakup. Rouge never liked any of Shanks' other relationships because she didn't feel like they made her son happy. In any case, not like you did."

"It's funny that you, Dad, and Rouge are the biggest supporters of 'Redhawk' when you banned us from dating at the time."

"We raised you to be best friends or brothers, not lovers," Shakky replied with a smile. "We thought it was just a phase and you would end up breaking up, but you guys stuck together and eventually convinced us that your love was not a phase. You helped him grow back then so let him pay you back and help you now."

"It's not that easy to let someone in."

"Honey, please, don't let the government or William win by stopping your life. Love, be angry, or go shopping with a friend, but keep moving forward. I need to know that someone will take care of you when your Dad and I will be gone."

Shakky left to let Mihawk think about her advice filled with wisdom and love.

He looked up at the stars wondering what he should do.

*☠️*☠️*

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened in confusion.

Mihawk felt like it was a joke; that the universe was laughing at him. It couldn't be that simple. Nothing was ever so easy for him. Where was the trap? There had to be one.

And yet the words that still echoed within him promised an unexpected release; a future that Mihawk had prevented himself from thinking about.

"Dracule Mihawk is not guilty."

The trial that exposed all of Mihawk's secrets was finally over and he had won. His name had been dragged through the mud for three weeks by the lawyer representing the World Government, Spandam. All the missions he had unfortunately failed had been analyzed and criticized, his loyalty had been called into question, and witnesses had denigrated and insulted, some calling him a "demon" or a "cold-blood murderer". Yet Spandam had failed. The juries had decided that Mihawk was not guilty.

He was free, just like Boa and Jinbei - whose past as environmental extremists had been forgiven. For their part, Doflamingo and Crocodile had been found guilty, but the governments of Alabasta and Dressrosa had to decide their fates, and Kuma had been sentenced to fifteen years in prison.

Mihawk turned to his attorney, Nico Robin, and asked, "Am I free?"

"We won, Mr. Dracule. You are free to celebrate the victory with your family," she said with a small warm smile.

Robin, the SSA's lead legal officer, had done a tremendous job defending Mihawk. She had made a graph showing that his success rate was very much higher than that of his failures, had shown that he was the only one of the Shichibukais to have had a normal childhood and, with Boa, not to have carried out secondary work in crime - before or after signing his contract with the Government - and had exploited his new job at the SSA by asking the Red Pirates, Princess Vivi, and Pell to testify on Mihawk’s behalf.

They rose in unison and bowed slightly to thank the judge and jurors.

Afterward, Mihawk was embraced by his parents in a tight hug.

"Is this the moment when I say: I told you so?" Rayleigh asked in his ear, his voice filled with relief.

Mihawk came face to face with Shanks when his parents let him go to thank Robin.

Shanks who had agreed without hesitation to testify for him.

Shanks who, on the opening day of the trial, had easily moved through the crowds around the courthouse like a modern-day Moses to approach Mihawk and pull him against him with one arm slung over the elder’s shoulders, "don't let them see you weak now" the redhead had whispered in his ear. Mihawk had let him kiss his cheek knowing that this was not the time or the place to dash the hopes of the Little Pirates - the fans of Shanks and the Red Pirates - who had come to encourage him with signs where ‘Redhawk’ was written in red with hearts.

After Alvida was arrested, Shanks never updated on his new single status, and the New Year's song played into "Redhawk's" favor: on stage, Shanks frequently looked up at the giant screens to check if Mihawk was winning or not while continuing to sing. There were fanarts, fanfictions, and video montages about Redhawk that Mihawk had almost all reviewed since he closed the hotel room door over two months ago.

Shanks who had attended every trial session even when Spandam exposed the worst acts that Mihawk had committed under the alias of Hawkeyes.

Shanks who had made a game of Spandam’s interrogation since the lawyer was trying to find out more about Mihawk's childhood to denigrate him; it had been a bitter failure and the jurors had been moved by the stories Shanks told about the cute mischiefs Mihawk and he had done together.

Mihawk finally understood what it meant to be free when Shanks' muscular arms tightened around him, "Congratulations, Hawky."

They let go when Rayleigh stepped between them, his arms around their shoulders, "how about we celebrate, kids?"

"He knows we're adults?" Shanks muttered, tilting his head towards Mihawk.

"Not sure, I suspect he has Alzheimer's."

"Better not to shatter his illusions then."

Rayleigh tightened his arms around the two brats who were laughing at him, "You two are really very funny. Now we're gonna get out of this court so I can kick your ass without being convicted and sent to jail."

In addition to the thirty-five escape plans, Rayleigh and Shakky also planned a surprise party since they were sure that Mihawk would not be sent to prison. They had invited almost all the neighborhood, friends of the family, and Mihawk’s ex-co-workers.

He toasted on their regained freedom with Jinbei and Boa while sharing old stories about the Shichibukai and how they were glad they wouldn’t have to witness the sexual tension between Doflamingo and Crocodile anymore.

Mihawk toasted about too many things that night with many different people, so much that he forgot the reasons, as his glass was never empty.

Mihawk then didn't have much opportunity to share a private moment with Shanks. The only moment that came close was when the redhead put his arm over Mihawk’s shoulder and decided to steal the star of the night by physically pulling him away from his current conversation.

"Zoro drank too much and Luffy convinced him that they could beat me at a game of beer pong. I need a partner to kick their ass. Would you like to get the team back together, just for tonight?"

Mihawk smiled seeing that his friend was as drunk as him and probably Zoro and Luffy, "you know I wouldn't miss any chance to prove my superiority to Zoro."

Thus, it was easy to guess who the beer pong winners were.

After that, Mihawk didn't get to see Shanks again that evening as the youngest babysitted Ace, Luffy, and Zoro who drank too much with Law.

Mihawk passed out in his bed thinking of Shanks's arms hugging him, resting on his shoulders, or those calloused hands holding him in a tight grip, as if his body had already belonged to the redhead for a long time. All that was missing was his mind and Mihawk would finally be at peace.

The opportunity to talk away from eavesdropping came the next week in the form of a frame-up that Mihawk should have foreseen. He had seen Shakky, Rouge, and Boa plotting together at the party, but had been too drunk to care at the time.

Mihawk worried about it now that he was locked in the basement of Rouge's house with the redhead to keep him company. He should have known it was a trap when Shakky asked him to fetch Rouge's pressure cooker and Shanks' mother pointed him to the cellar. Shanks' old studio was now used as a storage room, but most of the music furniture was still there, including the couch where Shanks was lying on reading an old comic before quickly getting up and asking Mihawk to keep the door open, but it was already too late. They were stuck together now.

"Are you here for the pressure cooker too?" Shanks asked him as he lay back on the couch. Mihawk nodded after trying to open the door, "can't you open it with your awesome super-spy abilities?"

Mihawk resigned himself to his fate and descended the three steps, he barely looked at the boxes stored against the back of the wall before sitting on the sofa near Shanks’s feet.

"Not if the door was trapped by Boa."

"Why would she do that if you're not friends?"

Mihawk shrugged and put his feet on the coffee table in front of him, "because seeing me suffer gives her endless joy."

"Do you think she put something to listen?" Shanks asked, looking around for a mini spy camera.

"Why not? It would typically be our parents to listen to us over a pot of popcorn. Redhawk went to their heads..."

"Yeah, Ace made several Tik Tok videos about us… I guess, they won't let us out until we've talked then," said Shanks as he resigned to their fate too.

The redhead stared at the ceiling for several minutes waiting for Mihawk to speak, but he straightened up to sit properly when the older one remained stubbornly silent.

"Well?" Shanks asked, looking at Mihawk with the tiniest of smiles - he was secretly delighted with this opportunity and was already thinking of thanking their parents for this more than welcome surprise.

"Well, what?"

"It's up to you to start."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow as he finally turned his golden gaze to the nuisance at his side, "why should I start? You are the one who talks the most between us two."

"Yes, but it was not me who, during our last conversation, threw it in your face that I was hurt and that you did not see it. I want to understand you, Mihawk, but I can't if you don't explain to me."

Mihawk sighed at Shanks' logic. It was unfair of him to accuse the redhead of not trying to understand why he had to leave him, if, on his part, he didn't admit what made him leave without saying goodbye.

"However before you start, I do have something to say…," Shanks admitted shyly, playing with his fingers.

Mihawk looked bored at Shanks though a small affectionate smile appeared on his lips, it was just so much the younger one to always have something to say.

He motioned for Shanks to say what was on his mind with a wave of his hand.

"Before we start and argue, probably, or not… I really don't know how this conversation is going to go," Shanks laughed nervously before getting serious again: "You have to know that I am serious about us. This is not a temporary game or hobby that I will get tired of. I love you. And what I feel for you is true. You won't scare me away or make me hate you no matter what is said here."

"What if…," Mihawk hesitated seeing the red eyes glowing with love. Were Shanks' eyes redder than usual? Maybe. He inhaled before admitting, "What if what we have is real to you now, but five or six years from now you realize it's not what you imagined? That our relationship no longer seems so real to you? That I'm still not enough? What if I'm just another Max or John?"

"That's what's bothering you with my old relationships, isn't it?"

"Indeed, you haven't been able to get seriously involved with anyone in eighteen years. It doesn't really surprise me since you're used to moving quickly from one thing to another. But it just proves that everything is temporary for you except the music which is your only love."

"There is enough room in my heart for you and the music."

"Are you sure? Because I'm not sure I can compete, or want to fight constantly to be the first in your heart, or to impose my presence on you. Eighteen years ago I wanted you to forget me to focus on your music and I can't ask you to forget your music for me now."

"What if I could prove to you here and now that I'm sure of how I feel about you?" Shanks asked, retrieving the black trench coat he'd tossed on the coffee table.

Mihawk got a bad feeling seeing the redhead rummaging through his pockets after something, "If you take a wedding ring out of your pocket, I..."

The rest of his sentence died in his throat as his eyes widened at the sight of the black velvet box in Shanks' hand.

The redhead's cheeks were even redder than his hair.

"I planned to propose to you on New Year's in a perfect world where you wouldn't have run away. I kept it hoping… I don't know. I bought the ring for you. Because my feelings for you are not going to subside, worse, they are accentuated in your presence. And if one day I feel like it's not real then I just have to look at that ring on your finger," Shanks opened the box and presented it to Mihawk.

It was a yellow-gold wedding ring from Glamira. The exterior was mostly black with gold piping down the middle and five diamonds in the center. It was simple, vintage, and thin, but Mihawk felt the ring wasn't complete and was already expensive enough.

"The engagement ring fits with a wedding diamond ring," Shanks admitted, setting the box on the coffee table in front of them. "You don't have to say yes now or you can even say no, but know that this ring will never belong to anyone else."

"Shanks..," Mihawk sighed at a loss for words.

His gaze was hypnotized by the ring. It was tempting to take it and put it on his finger. To be Mr. Gol and to turn the page on Mr. Dracule and his Shichibukai past. To seize the opportunity to become someone else with Shanks. And yet, Mihawk didn't feel like he deserved that ring, not yet.

"I thought what you would learn in court would scare you away," he admitted in a low voice.

"I have to admit I had a lot of insomnia after all the pictures Spandam showed us. And hearing these testimonies of what you have done... It's not easy. I even almost decided to stop coming. But then I realized that I wasn't afraid of knowing that you could actually kill me in a snap of a finger. I was afraid for you."

Shanks's fists clenched in barely suppressed anger, "The Government used you. They have turned you into a destructive weapon. They have used all of you to serve their purposes. All the crimes you have committed, the killings, thefts, and tortures, it is because of them. But they turned their backs on you as soon as this information about the Shichibukai came out. This is fucking unfair! How can you accept that?"

"Do you think I have a choice?" Mihawk asked with a laugh. "Do you think Boa, Jinbei, and I can attack the Government? We are the puppets they threw away when they no longer needed us. Worse…."

Mihawk stopped when he realized he almost told the truth to Shanks.

"What ?"

"I can't tell you that."

Outraged, Shanks settled back on the couch to stare at Mihawk, "I have to know everything if we want to make this work. You can't keep secrets from me anymore. Especially since they are consuming you if you keep not sharing them. Please let me carry this burden with you. I can take it."

"You don't know what the government does to people who know a little too much. I know because they were sending me to eliminate the soon-to-come threat. Knowing too much about their scheme is deadly," Mihawk said in an absently feeling voice.

He had made peace with his arrest because it made sense. He knew too much. If the government hadn't eliminated him, then he should have lost his case. Now that he was free, Mihawk waited for an assassin to come to visit him. Mihawk would fight for his survival, he would put up resistance, but the government had more means than him and Rayleigh could not protect him indefinitely.

Shanks stared blankly at him, "What do you mean? What more could you possibly know that wasn’t said on the trial?"

"I know that the fall of the Shichibukai was no accident."

Mihawk remembered returning to the room where Moria was watching Vegapunk before his break was over. He had been shocked upon opening the door where he had seen Moria holding a still-hot rifle in Vegapunk's direction. The doctor had collapsed on his back, a bullet in the head.

"What did you do ?" Mihawk had asked, already kneeling next to Vegapunk's corpse.

He had turned to see the barrel of Moria's gun pointed at him.

"It's not personal, Mihawk…. I-I have no choice" replied Moria, ready to shoot his colleague, before the windows exploded.

William had unknowingly saved Mihawk's life back then.

The government had questioned Mihawk several times to get his side of the story after he was released from the hospital. Fortunately, Rayleigh had obtained the government files on the Vegapunk case by Garp whom he had begged so that he could find his son on his own. Thus, Mihawk knew what the government knew about the case and was able to adapt his lies. The explosion had damaged the cameras and recordings from the hour before the explosion could not be recovered; No one knew that Mihawk had seen Vegapunk's assassin.

Mihawk had then exploited this hole to his advantage. He lied about not remembering what happened after he took his break because of the explosions and his ordeal in Alabasta. When asked what he believed to have happened, Mihawk would say that William might have killed Vegapunk in front of his eyes because the doctor was more useful to him dead than alive, or that in the end, William had always wanted to capture one or two Shichibukais to extract information from them.

He continued to lie afterwards saying that the only time he had contact with Moria was when William returned his corpse. When in fact William had left them locked together and gagged. They couldn’t talk to each other. Except for the last night when one of their jailers had forgotten to gag them and Mihawk had managed to extract the truth from Moria.

Mihawk had stuck to this version of the story even when his psychiatrist nonchalantly asked questions about Moria and Vegapunk and again during the trial. He wasn't sure the government believed him. The Navy had employed him because he was an excellent liar, so they knew better than to believe him. But they hadn't killed Mihawk yet. Maybe they believed him, maybe Ray bullied them, maybe his relationship with Shanks scared them. Mihawk didn't know, maybe they expected Mihawk's silence in exchange for his freedom, which was then their thank-you gift for keeping their secret so far.

Faced with Shanks' silence, Mihawk admitted what Moria had confessed to him, even though the redhead might tell everything in an interview :

"Akainu has wanted Sengoku's job for years, but had never found an opportunity to have him removed. So Akainu, who no longer had the patience to wait, paid Moria to kill Vegapunk and me during the mission. Akainu's perfect version of the event aw that Moria shot me after I murdered Vegapunk. My betrayal would have caused the disbanding of the Shichibukai and the end of Sengoku's career since we were his idea. But that didn't happen as he planned since I’m still alive."

"Shit…," Shanks swore, finally realizing why Mihawk had to leave. "This is fucking shit!"

"Sorry, I didn't want to bring you into this."

"No, you should have involved me in this story much earlier!" Shanks said grabbing his hand. "You could have died without me knowing…I-I… that's shit. I almost lost you without even knowing it, without realizing how much you still meant to me. I want to protect you from them, my muse."

"And how? You don't know how dangerous government assassins are. They can make me disappear with the snap of a finger! An accident happens quickly."

"So hide in the light with me! If this Akainu knows what is good for him and his job then he will leave you alone. I would destroy him and the rest of the government if they dared to take you away from me. I can hurt them very badly with my millions of fans. They won't recover if they hurt us."

"Shanks…"

"No, listen to me," Shanks knelt in front of Mihawk between the coffee table and the couch. "I would protect you from the government, the paparazzi, and even my fans if I have to."

Mihawk was surprised by the intensity of Shanks' gaze on him. The red eyes shone with so much love and anger. And oddly, Mihawk believed he would be safe with Shanks. Maybe hiding in the light was a better idea than staying alone in the shadows where the government’s assassins could easily reach him.

He looked at the ring and was surprised to realize that he wanted it now. Telling the truth had freed him from a heavy burden and he could imagine a future with Shanks now. Mihawk didn’t care about the fans and paparazzi as long as Shanks kept looking at him like that.

Shanks retrieved the small velvet box as if guessing what had caught Mihawk's attention, "You know, I really had a speech prepared to get you to say yes. But I think the most important thing is: I don't want to wait eighteen more years before I have the right to love you or make you mine. Ask me."

Mihawk frowned at the bizarre request: "Ask you what?"

" Ask me to choose between my career and you. Please, believe in me this time. Believe what I feel for you is serious. Believe that if you asked me, I would choose you."

"No, I would never ask you to choose, it's childish."

They stared at each other as if daring the other to give up until Shanks sighed with a small laugh.

"I choose you either way. All I'm asking you is for an album. Just one more and the Red Pirates are done."

"Shouldn't you make the decision with your band?" Mihawk asked, ignoring the heat in his cheeks.

"Well, It is Beck's idea," Shanks said with a smirk, "he asked us at the start of the tour because he wants to retire and enjoy his relationship with Makino. We accepted because we are good friends like that. I’m ready to turn the page if it is with you."

Mihawk finally understood why the Red Pirates were trying so hard to put out the best 10th album possible: it was the last for many years. This is why Shanks was so depressed at the idea of not writing the perfect song about them when they were at the chalet.

Mihawk wanted to refuse the proposal, wanted to tell Shanks that he was an idiot and that the two of them were not destined to be happy together. But he looked at the love in Shanks's eyes and forgot his worries.

"That means you'll be even more boring, isn’t it?"

A genuine smile lit up Shanks' face, "I'm going to annoy you for the rest of our days."

The ring fit Mihawk's finger perfectly as if it was made for him.

They hoped that their family didn't spy on them anymore after Mihawk agreed to the request, in any case, they left them alone as Mihawk and Shanks celebrated their union with each other.

"I feel so much better now that there are no secrets between us," Shanks said, catching his breath as they were now both naked and completely relaxed in each other's presence.

"Speaking of which…," Mihawk began while pulling his pants back on, "…maybe I didn’t tell you all about the warehouse attack."

"The warehouse? You mean the one where you fought the gang to save our lives?"

"Yes, I had a strange encounter there with one of your ex…."

*☠️*☠️*

Mihawk was mindlessly cooking banana and strawberry pancakes as he was looking at his engagement ring sparkling with his wedding ring because of the daylight filtering through the blinds of the kitchen window. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think to pass the pancakes from the bowl to the stove, and then the plate and could enjoy the music playing on the radio. It would be a shame if Mihawk burned them since he wanted something nice for their first morning in the small chalet in the mountains that Shanks had rented to celebrate their three months of marriage.

Three months and Mihawk hardly regretted his decision.

Obviously, he still thought that Shanks was an idiot who talked nonsense all the time, but the redhead was officially his idiot, so Mihawk figured he could deal with it.

He smiled when his idiot hugged him from behind. Mihawk leaned back against Shanks's bare chest but was ready to use the plastic spatula in his hand if the redhead tried to steal one of the pancakes from the stack.

Shanks sniffed like a dog before saying excitedly, "Are you doing my favorites? What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing, other than taking me away from the heat wave currently hitting our town.”

"Ooh, so you found that out," Shanks muttered with embarrassment while kissing Mihawk's neck.

"You still don't expect to keep secrets from me after a year, I hope."

"Well, I have to keep surprising you otherwise your super-spy mind will get bored."

The music playing on the radio station changed and Shanks' voice echoed throughout the little and comfy chalet.

Heart beat fast

"Seriously?" Mihawk grumbled, rolling his eyes, "Do you have to be everywhere?"

"Shhhhh," Shanks replied, leaving Mihawk to turn up the volume on the radio.

The redhead turned off the stove before taking Mihawk's hand to guide him into the living room.

"What are you doing ?" Mihawk asked, suspicious of Shanks's excited smile.

"It's our song, let's enjoy it."

Our song actually meant their wedding song and the first song from the 10th album of the Red Pirates. Mihawk hadn't understood why Shanks wanted a piano to be installed in their wedding room until Shanks had started singing this song for "his husband". Also, Mihawk knew that their parents had taken a lot of videos of this moment where he could be seen with red cheeks looking at his husband with too much love in his golden eyes.

...All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

Shanks took Mihawk's left hand in his, their wedding rings brushing as if they recognized each other, his other hand resting on his hip. He waited until Mihawk’s left hand was on his shoulder before leading his husband into a dance that followed the sole rhythm of their hearts beating in unison.

"I have died everyday waiting for you," Shanks whispered in Mihawk’s ear.

The redhead kept singing the rest of the song to Mihawk as they danced together on their song.

Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more