Chapter Text
"Fuck!"
Mihawk choked on his drink, red wine spraying out his nose in an undignified way he'd rather not think of. The ship around then went deathly quiet. Lucky Roux and Yasopp backed away slowly.
Shanks at least had the decency to look nervous, unlike his idiot first mate.
Beckmen simply leaned down to pick up Wado and offer her back to Zoro with gentle hands. "Try again."
Try again.
As though Zoro hadn't just screamed obscenities at the top of his lungs because he was frustrated. Mihawk lived under no fantasies that Zoro would never hear - or speak - unbecoming language. The crew Mihawk had chosen to let him grow up around wasn't exactly dignified and he knew Zoro was bound to pick it all up eventually, especially now that he'd actually starting to speak a language everyone could understand.
However, that didn't change the fact that Mihawk was in no way ready to hear his son speak like that.
Zoro was - not that he could ever articulate it in a dignified enough manner to speak the words out loud - his baby. And Mihawk was in no way ready for him to be old enough to say "fuck".
The rest of Shanks's small crew began inching away as Zoro glared down at Wado. Shanks's eyes darted between Mihawk, setting his wine glass down, and Beckman, knelt down to offer Zoro back his sword.
"I think I left everything in the kitchen on," Lucky Roux stumbled over his own tongue and turned toward the kitchen.
"I'll help," Yasopp offered, the two of them vanishing into the kitchen.
The rest of the crew took it as their sign to scatter. Zoro sniffled as he accepted Wado, cradling his blade as though it were fragile. His earlier frustration simmered into quiet shame and his nervous brown eyes flickered to Mihawk for a moment.
“You’re doing fine, Zoro,” Beckman told him.
Zoro’s knuckles turned as white as the hilt he gripped. “Wado no listen!”
Beckman chuckled, lowering himself to sit cross-legged in front of Zoro. “Wado listened fine, Zoro. Did you?”
Zoro’s brow furrowed, nose pinching up in confusion. Mihawk stood frozen, suddenly unsure of what to do. His desire to scold Zoro for his language softened to a weak push against his chest.
“A sword isn’t just about strength, Zoro. It’s about trust. You have to trust yourself, then Wado will trust you too.”
It was good advice. Advice Mihawk would have given his son as well. And Shanks said Zoro needed to learn independence. To learn from others.
Zoro stared down at Wado, uncertain in the face of Beckman’s patience.
“Tr,” Zoro mimicked, staring at Beckman’s lips. He’d picked the habit up a few weeks ago, when they’d first crossed into the Grand Line. Whenever someone said a word that he wanted to learn, he would repeat the first syllable and stare at their lips until they repeated it. Hongo assured them it was just the young boy’s way of learning new words instead of making up his own. “Tr. Tr.”
“Tr-uh-st,” Beckman enunciated, slow and careful. “It means you believe in something, without a single doubt. Like how you trust your Daddy and Papa and all of us to protect you. Tr-uh-st.”
“Tr-uuhh-ssst,” Zoro elongated the word. “Tru-st. Tr-ust. Trust. Trust Zoro.”
Beckman’s face warmed in a smile as he ruffled Zoro’s hair. “Yes. Trust Zoro. You’ll get there, kiddo. You’re already tougher than half the crew.”
Zoro’s eyes brightened and his chest puffed out in pride. “Strong!”
Mihawk allowed himself to breathe. Some of the tension in his shoulders loosened and he walked toward them slowly. Beckman looked at him first, face calm and unapologetic. Zoro turned to beam up at him next.
“Daddy!” he greeted with a grin. “Zoro strong!”
“Very strong, little tiger,” Mihawk agreed, running his fingers through Zoro’s messy green locks as he knelt down. He had to look up at Zoro now when he knelt down. God, he’d gotten so big. Mihawk’s baby, all grown up. “Very strong.” And so very frustrated. “Zoro, I’d like to teach you something new.”
Zoro’s head cocked to the side with curiosity.
“It’s called meditation. It will help make you even stronger.”
From the corner of his eye, Mihawk watched Beckman smirk and rise to his feet. The approval in the movement made something warm bubble in Mihawk’s chest that he refused to acknowledge. He needed no one’s approval. Certainly not Shanks’s annoying and overzealous first mate.
“Daddy learn Zoro.”
“Teach,” Mihawk corrected gently. “I will teach you. T-ea-ch.”
“T-ea-ch,” Zoro echoed. “Daddy tea-ch Zoro.”
The thick, muggy air of Little Garden carried low rumbles and distant bellows over the ship. Mihawk had heard of the islands several times - the land that time forgot - but he’d never had the chance to visit it. The large foliage swayed, rustling in the breeze. Beside him, Zoro vibrated with excitement, his hands knotted in Mihawk’s coat tails.
“What do you think, Little Hawk?” Shanks asked, grinning up at them from the island with his arms open wide. “Want to go on an adventure?”
“Ad. Adv. Adv,” Zoro echoed.
“Ad-ven-ture,” Shanks repeated. “Like you and Luffy used to.”
“Adven. Adven.” Zoro cut himself off with a frustrated growl, his hands tightening and tugging at Mihawk’s coat.
“Ad-ven-ture,” Mihawk said.
“Advent-turre,” Zoro said slowly. “Adventture. Adventurre. Adventure. Adventure!” Finally, Zoro beamed up at Mihawk, tugging at his coat. “Adventure, Daddy. Adventure!”
Mihawk failed to bite back his smile. “Alright, Little Tiger. Adventure.”
Zoro yipped with excitement, already running down the gangplank and straight into Shanks’s waiting arms. “Papa! Adventure!”
Mihawk disembarked with far more measured steps. His boots sunk into the soft, damp soil immediately. The heavy, wet air pressed down on him. The humidity had already started to frizz Zoro’s hair and Shanks’s red locks were wet with sweat, sticking to his cheeks and forehead as he swung Zoro around.
“Big rustles!” Zoro said excitedly, clambering onto Shanks’s shoulders to point at the trees. “Big rustles!”
“ Huge ,” Shanks laughed. “The biggest, Little Hawk.”
“Daddy! Daddy, biggest rustles.” Zoro paused, his brow furrowing for a moment. “Biggest tr-trees. Biggest trees!”
“Well,” Shanks grinned at Mihawk as he made his way to the duo. “You can’t say the kid doesn’t appreciate nature.”
Mihawk didn’t bother to contain his eye roll. It kept him from smiling at them. “Come here, Zoro,” Mihawk said, holding his arms out for the boy. “Before you knock your Papa out.”
Wado was tied to Zoro’s back, the scabbard coming dangerous to smacking Shanks repeatedly in the temple. Grinning, Zoro threw himself into Mihawk's arms and the weight almost brought both of them to the ground.
He was getting so big. Gone was the little boy that looked like he was barely three. Zoro wasn’t quite the size of an average nine-year-old boy but he was certainly getting there. The moment Zoro’s feet touched the ground, he wandered toward one of the largest trees, staring up with awe-filled eyes.
Mihawk wasn’t sure what the word was for the warmth that spread through him as he watched Shanks’s face soften in a fond smile. The captain’s eyes tracked Zoro from tree to tree with a gentleness a man as strong as Shanks had no right wearing. The corner of Shanks’s lips pulled up in the smallest of smiles, his hand sliding into his pocket.
The pirate was handsome. That had never been up for debate. Shanks was a large man with appealing muscles and a face that brought weaker people to their knees. His eyes were sharp and the scuff starting on his chin only made his jaw look stronger. But, with this look, Shanks was far more than handsome.
He was beautiful.
The urge to soak in the moment was almost as strong as the urge to yell at Shanks not to look like that.
Not to send that strange, strange feeling fluttering through Mihawk’s veins.
“Come on, Little Hawk,” Shanks called, pulling his hand free of his pocket to offer it to Zoro. “Let’s go on an adventure. I have some friends to look for.”
Grinning, Zoro scrambled back to them, taking Shanks’s hand and then snatching one of Mihawk’s.
“Friends?” Mihawk asked as they started through the forest.
His hand swung with Zoro’s, the young boy humming a disjointed tune. Briefly, Mihawk wandered where he’d heard it. Not from Shanks or any of the Red-Haired Pirates, as far as he knew, and certainly not from Mihawk.
Shanks hummed. “I wanted to check in on them. It’s been a while.”
“Someone lives here? On the land that time forgot?”
Shanks smirked at him over Zoro’s head. “You lived with humandrills.”
“That’s far different than living millions of years in the past.”
The ground beneath them trembled suddenly, vibrations rippling up through the soles of Mihawk’s boots. Likely one of the many large creatures that must live on an island like this. Zoro froze, tugging Shanks and Mihawk to a stop as he stared out at the jungle.
“Rumbles?” he muttered.
Shanks hummed. “No worries, Little Hawk. It's just some big critters.”
“Cri,” Zoro looked up at Shanks expectantly. “Cri.”
Before Shanks could sound the word out for him again, a colossal creature burst through the trees. Its massive legs snapped branches and flattened the undergrowth as it charged forward. The dinosaur - an enormous carnivore - tilted its head, its beady eyes locking onto Mihawk’s son and … friend?
What was Shanks at this point?
They were far more than acquaintances. Acquaintances didn’t stay with you for years. They didn’t help raise your child.
But Shanks wasn’t his captain. Mihawk would run himself through before he called Shanks his captain. And, even then, captains typically didn’t sleep their crewmates with the same regularity that he and Shanks did.
Did they?
Now that he thought about it, Mihawk had never been a member of a pirate crew. He’d traveled with some, in his early years, but he’d never truly belonged to one. He’d never known the background goings on. And that was beside the point.
Not captain and crewmate. Not acquaintances.
Friends?
It didn’t feel right.
Zoro called Shanks “Papa” for god’s sake. That was more than friends. Wasn’t it?
Zoro’s hand left Mihawk’s, yanking Mihawk’s brain away from the useless discussion. His head snapped down to look at his son. Zoro had dropped into a ready position, his hand wrapping around Wado’s hilt, and his lip already pulled back in a snarl.
“Easy, Little Hawk,” Shanks said gently, resting his hand on Zoro’s head. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”
Zoro’s snarl faded slightly and he stood a little straighter to look up at Shanks. “Big,” he muttered, his voice a mix of nerves and confusion. “Kwishu?”
“Do you have a reason to fight?” Shanks asked.
Zoro’s brow furrowed further.
“You never pull your weapon on something you don’t intend to kill,” Shanks said, nodding his head toward the dinosaur. “Do you need to kill it?”
“No?” It was more a question than an answer.
“What do you think, Hawky?” Shanks asked easily.
“Well,” Mihawk looked down at his son. “Can you beat it?”
“Zoro strong.”
“You are,” Mihawk agreed. “But do you know your opponent, Little Tiger?”
The dinosaur let out a deep, rumbling growl and dipped its head low to sniff the air. Mihawk shifted his weight without reaching for Yoru. He was the backup in this situation, of that he was well aware. Unless Shanks failed to drive the creature away by pure force of will, there was no need to unsheathe this sword and worry Zoro.
“Look at the dinosaur,” Mihawk told his son. “What do you see?”
Zoro stared at the dinosaur, studying it with narrowed eyes. “Big. Strong.”
“Yes. And?”
“Red?”
Mihawk didn’t miss Shanks’s soft huff of laughter at the simple answer. “Yes. Very red. Do you think he’s quick, like you?”
Zoro cocked his head to the side. “Zoro small.”
“Hmm.”
“Zoro small. Cr. Cr big. Zoro fast. Cri. Cri slow?”
“I think you’re right,” Mihawk praised, earning himself a wide grin. “Even the strongest opponents have weakness, Little Tiger. Learn them and win.”
Zoro grinned. “Win!”
The carnivore had apparently decided their small group - family? Was that what they were? Was Shanks his family? - was nothing of interest. It turned away, the ground trembling beneath them as it stomped away.
Zoro let out a small, disappointed noise. “No kwishu?”
“Not today, Little Hawk,” Shanks chuckled.
“Next today?”
“Tomorrow,” Mihawk corrected.
“Tom. Tom.”
“To-mor-row.”
“Tom-mor-row. Tommorrow. Tomorrow! Tomorrow?”
Shanks chuckled. “No, not tomorrow. You’ve got a bit of growing to do before your daddy’ll let you fight something that big, kiddo.”
Zoro turned to pout up at Mihawk. “Zoro strong!”
“Yes, Little Tiger. You are strong. And you’ll get stronger the bigger you get. Now, come along.”
Still pouting, Zoro ignored the hand Mihawk offered him. “Zoro strong!”
“Alright,” Shanks said, snatching Mihawk’s hand for himself. “Come on, Hawky, give the kid a bit of independence. Keep close, Zoro.”
“Yes.”
Zoro fell in step just behind them as they continued on. Mihawk couldn’t keep himself from looking over his shoulder every few steps, trying to ensure Zoro hadn’t gotten distracted by any of the large trees or any other number of oddities on the island. He loved that Zoro was growing stronger and braver but on an island like this, his curiosity may be a double-edged sword.
Each time he looked, Zoro was within touching distance. His eyes were wide as he looked around, completely enamored by the island, but he remained close.
“Breathe,” Shanks whispered. “Not like the kid has ever gone outside of your eye line for anything other than Luffy. Trust, Hawky.”
Trust.
The one thing Mihawk had always struggled with.
Daddy always said the world talked; Zoro just had to listen. All the big rustles - trees. Daddy said they were called trees and Zoro had to remember that. The men on the other island had laughed at him when he called them rustles. Zoro didn’t like being laughed at, even if Daddy had made the men stop laughing just by giving them a mean look - swayed and shimmied. The air was heavy, like when Yaopp spent too long in the shower and the bathroom got all foggy, and warm. It made lots of buzzing sounds he didn’t recognize: chirps and rustles and something big roaring from far away.
None of these sounds were like the wind when it whispered. They just hung around, telling Zoro they were there, but they didn’t pull him anywhere. It was… what would Daddy say? Strang? Maybe that was the word.
The tree ’s long green leaves looked like swords and the ground squelched under his boots. Maybe the trees wanted to kwishu with him and the ground wanted him to know it was wet.
In front of him, Daddy and Papa talked. He didn’t listen to a lot of their words, when he tried to hear them too well, it made his head hurt.
And something else whispered.
Zoro froze, feeling the tug on his arm.
The wind again.
It wanted something.
Most of the time, when Zoro went where the wind wanted Daddy told him he was getting lost. But every time he followed the wind, Zoro always found something cool.
He liked the wind. And he liked that when he listened to the wind it made other people smile. Like Luffy when he found his friend the beetles.
Luffy had been so happy.
Zoro wanted to make Daddy and Papa that happy.
Holding an arm out, Zoro let the wind wrap around his arm. He followed it, ducking through the thick, tall grass. The wind hummed its approval and continued to tug him. Zoro followed obediently, barely glancing around at the giant trees and smelly flowers.
CRACK
The ground beneath him crumbled away. Zoro yelped as he dropped, surrounded only by wind for a minute before he hit something hard and tumbled down. Dirt and rocks cut into him until he finally stopped. Wado dug into his back and his whole body burned with fresh cuts. The bright blue of the sky spun above him, the tree swords - leaves, he has to tall them leaves - hanging down. His ears rang, like the wind was laughing at him.
“Ouch,” Zoro muttered, sitting himself up to look around. Right in front of him was a big, rocky wall.
The ground trembled. Zoro turned. A massive cri cri stomped forward. Its legs were thicker than the trees and its big mouth had sharp teeth that twinkled in the sun. Its bright eyes - the same color as the glow, no the sun. They were the same color as the sun - locked on him.
Zoro choked, his fingers scrambling for Wado. Moving made his arm hurt but he made his fingers grab Wado anyway. Wado always helped him.
“Zoro strong,” he reminded himself, pulling his sword free.
His legs shook as he stood up. The big cri cri roared. It was loud and made his whole body tremble. The cri cri ran toward him, each step causing Zoro to trip over the wind.
He and Daddy were wrong. The cri cri was very fast. Zoro swung Wado at it anyway but she bounced off it’s leg. Zoro didn’t see a single ouch on the monster looming above him, its jaws opening. Large, wet drops fell from its mouth. Like rain but they smelled a lot worse.
Daddy.
The name stuck in his throat. Zoro wanted his Daddy and his Papa. He wanted someone, anyone , that could stop this big cri cri.
A deep, booming laugh made the ground quake. Zoro stared up at the sky to see a big axe swing down. The giant cri cri yelped and vanished, knocked into the lots of trees away from him. The big, big man replaced the cri cri. Bigger than anything Zoro had ever seen. His beard was longer than a river.
“Bahaha! Well, hello, little warrior!” the big, big man boomed. The ground rumbled as he fell onto his butt, sitting in front of Zoro. He was still bigger than the ship. Bigger than the sea kings Papa showed him when they crossed over the upside down stream. “It's not often I see such a tiny fighter.”
Zoro stared up at him, words running around his tongue but not leaving his mouth.
“Hmm? Oh, I bet a squirt like you have never seen someone like me, huh?”
“B-big.” Big what? What could he possibly call something this big, “B-big tree.”
The big, big man tilted his head to the side, like Papa when he doesn’t understand what Zoro’s saying. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Big tree? That’s a good one! My name’s Dorry! And you’re a brave little sapling.”
“Z-Z-Zoro,” Zoro forced himself to say.
Daddy always said if someone said their name, he should say his too.
“Zoro,” Dorry echoed. “A pleasure, little sapling. But a little sprout like you shouldn’t be wandering on his own. Where’d you come from?”
Zoro swallowed. “D-Daddy. D-Daddy, Papa. No. No Daddy. L-Lost!”
Dorry’s face softened. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? Don’t worry, little sapling. I’ll keep you safe until your daddy and papa find you.” Dorry held his hand out. “Come aboard. You’ll be able to spot them better from up with me.”
Zoro stared at him, keeping a tight hold on Wado. Then the wind returned, ramming into Zoro’s back. He stumbled forward, right onto Dorry’s hand. The big, big man smiled down at him and then stood.
“You’ve got the bravery of a great warrior,” Dorry said.
Warm fuzzies prickled against Zoro’s skin as the big, big man set Zoro on his shoulder. A great warrior. Like Daddy. Or Papa. Or Benn. He liked the sound of it. But all of the bravery he felt vanished when he looked down. The ground was so far away he could barely see it and the trees looked like toys.
Closing his eyes, Zoro pressed himself a little closer to Dorry’s neck. “Zoro strong,” he reminded himself.
Daddy and Papa told him that. He was strong. He was going to keep being strong and brave.
Dorry laughed, the booming sound shaking the air. But it was a lot less scary than the first time Zoro heard it. “And the heart of a giant. Don’t worry, little sapling. Stick with me and you’ll be just fine.”