Chapter Text
Kuraigana was not the warmest place in the world and so it would never offer a warm welcome, but still, the sight of the familiar dreary castle peaking out past gloomy fog gave Mihawk a sense of relief. He sailed towards the shore wearily, though he didn’t show it. Being summoned by the World Government was always a test of patience. It was rather presumptuous of them to assume that just because he bore the title of Warlord that it made him their errand boy, but in the interest of maintaining his peace and protecting what was his, he had agreed to go to Marie Jois for a meeting of the Warlords.
It had been an exhausting affair, fielding Doflamingo’s madness, Crocodile’s duplicity, Moria’s inflated ego and Hanafuda’s odd fixation with dinosaurs. There were only so many diatribes on ancient lizards Mihawk’s patience could be expected to endure before he snapped completely. He had left as soon as he had been able and immediately began his journey back to Kuraigana. He didn’t enjoy leaving the island nowadays, especially since he was not alone anymore.
Parenthood was not something he had ever aspired to. So, when he decided to take on training young Roronoa Zoro, he had not done so with the expectation that their relationship would be anything more than a master and student. However, things had not remained so and even though the boy’s dream was to ultimately defeat him and take his title as the World’s Strongest Swordsman, he had still managed to worm his way into Mihawk’s affections. That being the case, he had not been overly excited about leaving Zoro on the island so he could go to Marie Jois. It was luck that Moria owed Mihawk a favor and so Absalom along with young Perona had been employed as the ten-year-old’s babysitters. Mihawk was wary of that arrangement as well but 14-year-old Perona, while loud and dramatic, was not as much of a nuisance as her guardian was. As for Absalom, Mihawk did not trust the man whatsoever and found him morally dubious at best, but he was confident that should he step out of line that Zoro could defeat him soundly. He was truly only around so Zoro had some sort of adult supervision and someone around to fetch him when he became inevitably lost.
It was raining by the time he made it to the manor. The wet leather clinging to his skin was an annoyance but he ignored it in favor of more important things. The manor was quiet as he entered, which in itself was not strange, but it felt a bit too empty for his liking. He was about to activate his observation haki to assess the situation but before he could, loud screeching echoed towards him.
“Mihawk, you’re back!” Perona shouted, materializing through the floor along with her ghosts.
“I didn’t lose my hearing in my time away. Your volume is unnecessary.”
“It is necessary when your stupid kid has gotten my crewmate killed!”
“Explain.”
“Idiot Zoro ran off yesterday. He said we were weird and boring and he was going to go challenge the baboons to a fight.”
“Humandrills.”
“Whatever! I told him it was stupid, but he wouldn’t listen. Absalom went after him and neither of them have come back since.”
Mihawk rolled his eyes. He had never met a child with such a stark lack of self-preservation skills as Zoro.
Perona’s lips began to wobble as her eyes welled up.
“Absalom was such a weirdo. He deserves whatever happened to him, but Master Moria will think it’s my fault for not saving him. Master Moria when he’s sad is so not cute.”
Mihawk let out an exasperated sigh before turning to leave the house.
“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?!”
Mihawk didn’t answer as he began to walk back into the rain.
“Fine! Go get yourself killed too. See if I care? Stupid men. You better not die! I’ll be cross with you if you do, stupid dumb swordsman!”
Perona continued to rant behind him, but he disregarded it as he let his observation haki loose over the island. He could feel the multiple dull signatures of the humandrills spread throughout the woods, though there were several that seemed duller than usual. He could feel Absalom, poking around near the humandrills’ base. Zoro was not with him. He kept his haki open but Zoro was clearly not near the castle. He began to venture into the forest, keeping his awareness piqued. The humandrills kept a wide berth, doing their best to stay out of his way. The ones he did come across seemed to be injured.
Zoro was defeated by them more than not. Had he underestimated Absalom’s strength? The injuries he saw appeared to be mostly sword wounds but there were also claw marks and bites. The humandrills preferred to fight each other using weapons given they had learned to mimic human combat. They were unlikely to resort to such base methods.
Peculiar.
It took long minutes before he finally was able to pick up Zoro with his observation haki. He was near a cluster of humandrills. Mihawk turned his full focus towards Zoro so he could get a better idea of where he was when suddenly the awareness went away completely. Mihawk furrowed his brows before trying to activate his haki again but to no avail. He had never experienced anything like this. His observation was above average, a skill he could unlock with ease and wield easily in combat and yet now it was failing him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t access it, he could feel it flowing through him still, it just seemed to be rendered completely ineffective.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and withdrew Yoru from his back. He continued through the woods with much more caution, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement. His superior eyesight allowed him to assess each and every shadow in the wet forest while he kept a keen ear out for every sound, quickly discarding the background noise of leaves shifting in the wind and creaking trees with noises that might indicate something more sinister. Sinister enough to render his observation haki useless.
He found himself walking along the bank of a river which cut the forest in two. He knew he was still walking in the right direction, but knowing his charge, Zoro could’ve wandered to the other side of the island by now. He continued walking along the river’s bank, coming to the section where a short stone bridge connected the two sides of the river. Beneath the bridge was a collection of moss-covered rocks that forced the water flow to stop and build up before flowing over it. At the entrance and exit of the bridge were two hollowed out spaces which Mihawk knew housed seabirds that hunted the slips of fish that rushed through the river. The sounds of raindrops hitting the water was nothing more than white noise when his ears became aware of another sound. He paused as he listened.
The drops hitting the river made a uniform noise but there was something else, something more akin to a splash. It was subtle, nearly silent, but it was there. He turned his gaze to the water, staring down at the blackness with a keen eye. There was nothing to be seen for a long while, just pure black before Mihawk’s eyes caught a sudden flash of red. It was there and gone but appeared to be coming from one of the hollows. He held his sword fast before wordlessly sending an air slash towards the rock and soil, cleaving the space so the bridge crumbled into the river, sending rocks splashing into the water while sections of grassy earth slid away as well. Among the debris, he caught a clearer view of red that disappeared among the darkness. It looked like a large fishtail. He did not know how a sea king had found its way this far inland. He wouldn’t put it past Absalom to be involved somehow. He also wouldn’t put it past Zoro to have challenged the beast. All the same, Mihawk would dispose of it.
He kept his gaze peeled, waiting for a sign of the creature’s location. His observation may be out of reach for whatever reason, but his eyesight was still leagues better than most. He crouched down, staring intently at the water’s surface until… there.
It took but a flick of his wrist to send another air slash towards the beast, one powerful enough that he was sure it would cleave it in two. Water went spraying into the air from the force of the slash, obscuring his view for a moment but long enough for the beast to catch him by surprise. A red-scaled tail was suddenly coming straight for him. He was still able to block the tailstrike with Yoru but where he would expect the sword to sink into flesh, it clashed with the black coating of armament haki instead. The blocked strike was immediately followed by another strong swipe of the tail which sent Mihawk skidding back against the wet grass from the force of it. The creature was stronger than he had given it credit for.
He pulled back enough to get a full view of the creature he’d mistaken for a sea king. Sea creatures couldn’t use haki. His island had obviously been invaded by a mer. He could just make out the human top half through the water, red hair peeking out amongst the black though not as obvious as the vibrant crimson tail. The mer dove lower and disappeared from view, but Mihawk was sure it would not be so easily deterred. He readied himself for the attack, sure the mer was preparing one. Merman jiujitsu perhaps.
It didn’t surprise him when a wash of water and air suddenly exploded in front of him, a feint to obscure vision. Mihawk didn’t flinch. He kept his eyes peeled for the red form that would appear from within and struck the moment it appeared, sending Yoru slicing through the spray. The blade connected with something solid, and the force of the blow sent the mer crashing into a tree with a guttural hiss.
Mihawk didn’t relax, he knew better. The mer was obscured by the shadows of the tree it fell against, but Mihawk could tell that Yoru had impaled its tail. The mer wriggled and hissed at the sword embedded through it before glaring at Mihawk with gleaming red eyes peeking out from the darkness.
“You’re trespassing,” the swordsman said simply.
The merman glared harder at him, gritting its sharp teeth as it ripped Yoru out of its own flesh. He hefted the large sword in one hand as if testing the weight, before he surged forward, tail propelling him with fluid grace across the wet grass. It spun mid-air, using the momentum to deliver a whip-like strike to Mihawk’s shoulder, followed by a downward slam that cracked the earth beneath them quickly backed-up by a slash of Yoru cutting the air too closely to Mihawk’s throat.
He pulled Kogatana off his neck and threw it at the mer’s hand, forcing him to release Yoru. The mer retreated a little as Mihawk managed to retrieve his sword before facing off against the mer again.
He circled around Mihawk with a hiss, his tail undulating like a serpent, each movement deliberate. He struck again, this time with a tail-thrust that mimicked a rapier’s lunge, coated in armament haki so dense it shimmered. Mihawk parried, but the impact reverberated through his arms.
“Get out of my way, now,” the merman ordered.
His demand was accompanied by a strong wash of haki that kicked up the wind, blowing dust and dirt around and rattling through the leaves. Mihawk blinked in surprise.
A merman with Conqueror’s Haki? Armament was one thing, but Conqueror’s? He’d never encountered that before. It hit like a wave, not just pressure but presence. Trees groaned, leaves scattered, and the river itself seemed to recoil. Mihawk’s vision blurred for a moment, his senses dulled. Clearly, the merman was no novice with it. If he’d been a lesser man, he’d have faltered under the weight of its spiritual pressure. Still, it was enough to distract him.
The mer used that instant to close the distance, tail sweeping low to knock Mihawk’s feet out from under him. The swordsman fell and the mer was on him in a heartbeat.
His tail coiled around Mihawk’s pale wrist, pinning Yoru to the ground, while its upper body leaned in, sharp teeth bared and red eyes gleaming. The tip of Yoru, now in the mer’s grip, pressed against Mihawk’s throat.
Face to face, the swordsman and the mer stared at one another.
His red hair was plastered to his face from the water. He had three scars over his right eye that looked healed against his tanned skin, but that was not what caught Mihawk’s attention, it was the familiarity of his features. There were some marked differences: the sharp teeth, the scar, the facial hair, the sharper angles which spoke of having grown since the last time Mihawk had seen him. All the same, he knew this man.
“Red Hair?”
Shanks paused in his sneering at the use of his moniker. His eyes assessed Mihawk’s face before recognition flashed in his gaze. He seemed uncertain before he got off Mihawk’s chest and moved away from the swordsman. He hesitated for a moment before he let go of the sword and slipped back into the river, vanishing into the dark.
As the water swallowed him, Mihawk felt his observation haki return like a fog lifting. Zoro’s location pinged in his mind, clear and sharp.
Shanks’ doing, he supposed. His haki had always been stronger than most, which was why Mihawk had been disappointed when his rival had disappeared off the face of the planet, apparently having not had what it took to conquer the New World after all.
Now, here he was, alive and a merman, something he very much hadn’t been when last he’d seen him.
Yes, very peculiar indeed.
~*~*~
Zoro believed himself to be independent. It wasn’t a choice, it was survival. Being an orphan meant learning to rely on no one but himself, and even now with Mihawk as his guardian, some habits refused to die. Like sneaking off, or picking fights with things he shouldn’t.
Life on Kuraigana was quiet. Weird, but quiet. Just him, Mihawk, and a bunch of sword-wielding baboons. Occasionally, other warlords dropped by: Moria, Doflamingo, Crocodile, the creepy one with the dinosaur obsession. Mostly, it was just them, which meant Zoro had to find his own fun, especially when he wasn’t training and Mihawk was taking wine time. The island liked to shift its paths, so getting lost was practically tradition. He always managed to find something to occupy his time.
He hadn’t appreciated being left with Absalom and Perona while Mihawk went to Marie Jois. Absalom was a creep, and Perona was... Perona. Loud, dramatic, and somehow always floating just where he didn’t want her to be, so he’d ditched them. He tried to fight the humandrills and mostly failed, then he got turned around thanks to the shifting paths. Then he had to save Absalom from getting mauled before Mihawk had shown up, looking uncharacteristically unkempt, and dragged them both back to the manor.
Zoro had been told to go and bathe but he had ignored that in favor of listening in on Mihawk and Absalom’s conversation.
Apparently, there was something even more dangerous on the island than the humandrills and Zoro couldn’t wait to find it.
“I put up with your exhaustive list of character defects, Absalom, but I do not appreciate you bringing Hogback’s experiments onto my island where they may corrupt Zoro’s impressionable young mind,” Mihawk had said as Zoro hid around a corner.
“I don’t know what you mean, Hawkeyes,” Absalom replied, sounding defensive.
“The false merman trapped inland? Who else am I to attribute that to besides that wayward scientist?”
Zoro perked up at that. He had never seen a mer in real life. He knew merfolk and fishmen existed. He’d met the warlord, Jinbei, before. He was a cool guy. He meditated with Zoro a couple times and complimented his focus. Merfolk were different from fishmen.
“False merman? I don’t know what you mean.”
“What are you doing?”
Zoro jumped at the voice in his ear and quickly whipped around to Perona hovering over his shoulder, ghosts swirling lazily around her.
“Shut up, I’m trying to hear them,” he hissed quietly.
The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes in response.
“Your stench would never allow you to be discreet, little swordsman,” she retorted snootily.
“Better than smelling like expired perfume and zombies.”
Perona rolled her eyes and floated down beside him.
“You’re lucky I don’t haunt your dreams.”
“You do and be quiet already.”
Perona rolled her eyes again and the two leaned in to listen closer.
“… Mermen aren’t Hogback’s style anyway. Besides, why would I bring one of his experiments with me? If we had the corpse of a pirate like Red-Haired Shanks, people would know it by now. My boss isn’t exactly discreet.”
“Hmm. I suppose I may have been mistaken. None of your zombies have ever given me as much trouble as the merman has. He is markedly stronger than anything Moria could produce.”
“Hey! Don’t downplay Master Moria like that… I mean, Master Moria does his best you know,” Absalom retorted, starting off strong before trailing off meekly, clearly intimidated.
Zoro’s interest was piqued more by what Mihawk had said. The merman had proved a challenge to him. He was the World’s Strongest Swordsman and a merman had been strong enough to contend with him? A merman Mihawk seemed to know. Zoro never heard of Red-Haired Shanks. Mihawk made him learn about all the influential pirates in the world. He knew about the Seven Warlords, he knew about the Four Emperors, Kaido, Big Mom, Whitebeard and Prince Loki. All pirates Zoro hoped to grow strong enough to contend with someday.
Shanks was a new name.
Zoro’s eyes lit up in interest as he slinked away from the room.
“Oh no. Get that dumb look off your face,” Perona warned, floating behind him.
“What do you mean?”
“I know what you’re thinking. You almost got yourself killed tonight, don’t be so eager to do it again.”
“I’m the one who saved your weak crewmate. The humandrills would’ve killed him if I wasn’t there, not that that would’ve been a loss.”
“Maybe not, but Master Moria would’ve been cross anyway. So… thanks I guess.”
Zoro blinked at that before shuffling awkwardly.
“Whatever,” he mumbled.
Perona sighed and tugged on his sleeve.
“Come on, sword gremlin. You smell like a swamp. Go take a bath.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s dangerous. You shouldn’t put yourself in trouble for something so stupid as a challenge.”
“Why not? Mihawk said the guy was strong, I wanna see.”
“Ugh, you swordsmen are so uncute. I don’t know why I like you guys,” the ghost girl mumbled to herself.
“Because we’re saner than any of those weirdos you call a crew?”
“Barely. I know you enjoy swinging your pointy sticks at things that are stronger than you, but this may be more than even you can chew, sword biter.”
“You know about this Shanks guy,” Zoro asked, ignoring how Perona tugged on him to make him change direction on the way to his bedroom.
“A little. He disappeared when I was still new to Moria’s crew. It’s a bit of a creepy story.”
“Your kind of story then.”
“Of course it is. That’s why I know it.”
Zoro raised an eyebrow at that.
“Red-Haired Shanks was a big deal in the pirate world. He’d been a pirate for a long time, he even sailed on the ship of the Pirate King as his apprentice. People viewed him as Gold Roger’s son and heir. He started his pirate career a couple of years after the Pirate King died and he got pretty popular super fast. He was strong and charming. He made friends and allies wherever he went and with whoever he wanted: humans, giants, dwarves, pirates, civilians, marines, it didn’t matter. He also gained infamy through his duels with your dad.”
“Duels,” Zoro repeated, his eyes gleaming.
“Master Moria says that they made such a ruckus even the top pirates like Whitebeard took notice of them. Their clashes shook the Grand Line.”
Zoro grinned wider at that, anticipation strumming through his veins. A man that could fight evenly with Mihawk? Zoro had to meet him.
“What happened to him?”
“No one knows. He disappeared at the Sabaody Archipelago. Some people suspect he was captured and sold as a slave. Some people think he was quietly executed by the Marines. Others think he chose to retire in solitude. There are wilder stories too, but I don’t think anyone thought of him showing up here and being a merman. It’s weird though.”
“What is,” Zoro asked.
“I thought only mermaids could split their tails to be able to walk. And no one ever said anything about Red-Haired Shanks having flippers or a fishtail. He’s supposed to be totally human.”
Zoro took a second to think about that mystery before dismissing it.
He wondered how someone could sword fight while having to account for their lower half being a tail. Surely it threw their entire form off. Maybe he only sword fought when he had legs, however that worked. He wanted to fight him both with the fishtail and without it.
“Ugh, you have such a one-track mind. I can see what you’re thinking written all over your face. Don’t fight this guy.”
“I wonder how he fights with a tail,” Zoro mused to himself.
“I wonder how you’ll explain it to Mihawk when you get your spine rearranged.”
“Think Mihawk will let me train with Yoru if I beat him,” Zoro asked with a smirk.
“Why do I even like you,” Perona groaned.
“Because I’m the only sane one in this haunted house.”
“You’re ten and you think sword fighting a legendary pirate merman is a good idea.”
“Yeah, so?”
She sighed again, floating after him.
“Fine. But if you die, I’m not crying. I’ll just haunt your grave and tell you I told you so.”
“Deal.”
“Why do I even bother?”
Zoro waited until the next day when Perona and Absalom were gone and Mihawk was busy with wine time to trek into the woods with Wado strapped to his hip. He was supposed to be training his observation haki, so he used it as he made his way through the trees. His control wasn’t very strong yet, he could only pick up small creatures skittering around and the odd humandrill. He wasn’t deterred though, his anticipation was too high for that. Said anticipation did begin to wane as the day wore on and his stomach started to rumble. He found himself walking along the riverbank that cut the woods in half, picking berries from the bushes to satiate his stomach. He glanced over at the river as he noticed the silver bodies of small fish shooting past him.
He glanced down at his sword contemplatively. Mihawk would probably tell him this was a bad idea. He could picture Kuina punching him on the head for what he was about to do, but he was hungry. He toed his shoes off and dangled his legs over the edge of the river, sword in hand and ready to spear a fish. His first few tries were fruitless. The fish moved too fast and he was just a second too slow.
He gritted his teeth in annoyance before closing his eyes, deciding to try his observation haki. He could feel the weak pulse of it struggling to make sense of the world. There was so much around that it wanted to latch onto. A leaf falling from the trees, the rush of the water, the moss growing on the rocks, the birds calling overhead, the humandrills swinging across the branches, the breath of the steel and whispers of life coming from Wado Ichimonji.
He took a deep breath and focused on the water. There were several quick flashes of life that his observation picked up. He made himself focus on one that was moving slower than the others, swimming back and forth in the river rather than following the others downstream. He gripped his sword tightly before lunging towards the fish. For a moment, all his attention was on that fish’s light, growing dimmer as Wado slid through its body. But in an instant, he was ripped from his concentration by his body leaving his seat on the river’s edge and unceremoniously plunging into the cold water.
He gasped in surprise, water quickly rushing into his lungs. He tried not to panic as he slipped farther down into the water. He began swimming up when a weight suddenly hit his leg. He gasped at the pain, his heart pounding at more water invading his lungs. He was beginning to panic now. This was such a stupid way to die. He couldn’t go like this. He had his dream and his promise.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt an arm wrapping around his waist.
Mihawk? He wondered distantly before everything went black.
Consciousness came roaring back to him in the form of his lungs burning as he hacked up water, his chest throbbing painfully and his eyes stinging. It took a moment before he got his bearings. Once he did, he realized there were hands pressed against his back, patting him soothingly. He looked over, expecting to see Mihawk there with worry concealed behind annoyance, a lecture ready on his lips. He was not prepared to see a man he did not recognize, red hair plastered to his forehead, three scars cutting across one of his eyes, and a tail, an actual, gleaming red-scaled fishtail, half-submerged in the river. His eyes were sharp, amused, and watching Zoro with quiet curiosity.
Zoro stared at him wide-eyed.
“You’re the merman.”
The man raised an eyebrow in reply.
“You’re the kid who tried to fish with a sword.”
“I wasn’t fishing, I was training,” Zoro defended, a flush on his wet cheeks.
“You were training to drown,” the merman said, clearly unconvinced.
Zoro scowled and scrambled to his feet, wobbling slightly before planting himself firmly.
“I didn’t need saving.”
“You were unconscious,” the redhead pointed out.
“I was almost unconscious.”
The merman chuckled at that, low and warm. It was a strange sound owed to the gills at the side of his neck vibrating along with the motion.
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
Zoro narrowed his eyes.
“I never said thank you.”
“No, you didn’t. It’s a bit rude actually.”
Zoro ignored the man’s words.
“You’re strong,” he stated.
The man tilted his head at that inquiringly.
“So I’ve been told.”
“You fought Mihawk.”
That got a flicker of surprise from him which Zoro counted as a triumph.
“I did.”
Zoro’s hand went to Wado Ichimonji, fingers curling around the hilt.
“Fight me.”
The merman blinked three times at that before speaking.
“Excuse me?”
“I want a duel. You fought Mihawk to a draw. I want to see how I measure up to you.”
There was a pause and then the merman laughed. A full laugh, mouth wide, hand clutching his stomach, head thrown back, tail flicking water into the air. Zoro bristled at the reaction.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re a kid.”
“So?”
“I don’t fight children.”
Zoro’s face twisted in indignation.
“I’m a swordsman.”
“You’re a very small swordsman.”
“I’m strong. I saved Absalom from the humandrills yesterday.”
“Those annoying baboons, you mean? Impressive. They are quite persistent and disturbingly capable,” the man complimented, still smiling.
Zoro didn’t physically preen at the praise, but it was a near thing. Mihawk had simply nodded slightly in vague approval before telling him where he needed to train better.
“However, I’m not going to duel someone who’s still shorter than my tail.”
Zoro’s fists clenched.
“You think I’m weak?”
“No, I think you’re young,” the man said gently.
“Who cares about something like that? You think just cause I’m young I can’t fight, I can’t want to be the best, I can’t have a dream? Well, I do! I’m training to be the best, I’m going to be the World’s Strongest Swordsman one day and no one’s going to stand in my way, especially not you.”
The man’s expression shifted at that.
“World’s Strongest Swordsman, eh?”
His eyes lingered on Zoro’s face and something unreadable flickered there.
“You remind me of my son,” he said quietly.
Zoro recoiled like he’d been slapped.
“I’m not your kid.”
“I didn’t say you were. Trust me, my kid is one of a kind.”
“I don’t want to remind people of anyone. I’m me.”
The man’s smile returned, gentler now.
“I can see that.”
“You’re still not gonna fight me?”
“No.”
“Coward.”
The man snorted at that.
“I’ve fought sea kings, emperors, and the current World’s Strongest Swordsman himself. I think I’ve earned the right to say no to an eight-year-old with a sword and a vendetta.”
“I’m ten.”
“Same difference.”
Zoro glared at him, breathing hard. The man leaned forward, eyes twinkling.
“Train hard and grow strong, then come find me.”
Zoro hesitated.
“You’ll fight me then?”
“If you’re taller than my tail.”
Zoro looked down at the tail, then back up at the man.
“I’m gonna grow fast.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
The merman shifted a little and Zoro noticed a small grimace cross his face before it left. Zoro’s eyes flashed to the mer’s tail. There was a noticeable wound sluggishly bleeding just beneath the surface.
“Did that happen when you got me out of the water?”
“You mean when I saved you?”
“I didn’t need help!”
The mer laughed at his reaction.
“Sure thing, bud. And no, this was on account of Mihawk last night. He managed to get a lucky shot in. His armament is a lot better than I remember. Of course, having a Supreme Grade Sword helps.”
Zoro’s eyes flickered down to Wado, a Great Grade sword, before looking back to the merman.
“You use your tail to fight, don’t you? Like a sword?”
“Sometimes, yeah. I do have my sword, Gryphon, but that’s back home at the moment. I wasn’t exactly planning on ending up here.”
Zoro assessed the man and the wound for a moment before nodding to himself.
“I know why you won’t fight me.”
Shanks blinked at that.
“Because you’re a child… like I said?”
“No, it’s because you’re hurt. That wouldn’t make it a fair fight.”
“Right… as opposed to you being a literal child.”
“Enough about the age stuff already! Here’s the deal, I’ll get you some medical stuff from Mihawk’s place and when you’re all healed up, then we can duel. Deal?”
“No, no deal.”
“Cool, I’ll go get the stuff.”
“I just said no deal.”
“I’ll be back in an hour, bye!”
Zoro waved before turning to run back to the mansion.
“Isn’t the manor the other way,” the mer shouted from behind him but Zoro ignored him, determined to complete his new mission and get his duel, whatever it took.
I bet Mihawk will be really impressed with me if I beat this guy, he thought to himself.
He bet he’d get more than just a vague nod of approval then. He burst forward with renewed purpose, a smile on his face as he ran home.
~*~*~
The kid didn’t come back in an hour, or two, or even six.
Shanks spent the night in the woods, alternating between testing the strength of his injured tailfin in the river and lounging on the shore, trying to get some rest.
Mihawk had done more of a number on his tail than he’d realized. He was impaled through and through, but the worst of it was his tailfin. His Kogatana had torn through his right tailfin before embedding into his hand when he thrown it to get Yoru back from Shanks. The damage made it difficult to swim. It was impossible for him to go to open water without ending up in trouble he wouldn’t be able to swim out of. He could keep the sea kings and beasts at bay with his conqueror’s haki, but without a functioning tailfin, he wouldn’t be able to get far. He couldn’t shift back to his legs like this either. The damage would take much longer to heal on human legs vs his tailfin, so he was stuck like this for the moment and thus stuck on this island with his old rival, apparently.
Dracule Mihawk.
Of all the people Shanks could’ve expected to be on this island, Mihawk wasn’t exactly at the top of his list. That wasn’t to say the island didn’t fit his overall aesthetic, Shanks just supposed he hadn’t thought he’d see the man again. It’d been five years and a lot had happened since then. Mihawk worked for the government nowadays and Shanks was a retired pirate. Mostly retired. Semi-retired. He kept a low profile at any rate.
His time coming to the surface was few and far between. He settled for civilizations below the sea, traveling between underwater kingdoms and then recently settling in Fishman Island once he found a guppy that was like him and needed some guidance.
His heart tugged and a smile crossed his lips as he thought of Luffy. Seas knew he was probably kicking up a fuss without Shanks around to reign him in. Shanks had had to leave him at the mermaid café while he went to investigate some unnatural seaquakes that King Neptune had thought might be connected to World Government shenanigans. Shanks knew all too well how dangerous it could get when they inserted themselves into the mix, so he’d gone to check it out and then got caught in a Marine trap. It took longer than he’d like to escape the vessel, but he managed it and fled inland on the closest island to throw the Marines off his scent.
He didn’t expect Mihawk to be living here with his… ward? Kid? Apprentice? Shanks wasn’t sure.
Mihawk had never been the sentimental type and certainly wasn’t fatherly back when Shanks had first known him. Mihawk had once described children as loud, sticky, needy little creatures too weak to fight for themselves and who would only get themselves killed or worse on the Grand Line, let alone in one of the four Blues. Shanks was curious how he went from that thought process to living full-time with a kid, but a lot can happen in five years.
Shanks knew that better than most.
It was just before noon the next day when the child returned. By then, Shanks was bobbing below the surface of the river with most of his body submerged save for his eyes, scanning for the weird baboons native to the island who kept attacking him. Shanks had seen a lot in his travels but animals that preferred to fight like humans were rare. The only others he could think of were kung-fu dugongs.
The boy trotted up with a knapsack slung over his shoulder and his sword, the Wado Ichimonji if Shanks remembered correctly, still strapped to his waist. He wondered where a ten-year-old got a Great Grade sword from. It hadn’t been in Mihawk’s possession when Shanks last saw him.
“Yo, fish-guy, I’m back.”
Shanks blinked at the nickname as he allowed himself to surface enough to speak.
“I can see that, kelp-head. 20 hours later than you said you would be back, might I add.”
“It’s not my fault the island likes to move the paths around,” the boy protested.
Shanks quirked an eyebrow at that. He was pretty sure his observation would pick up randomly shifting paths.
“Sure you weren’t just lost?”
“I don’t get lost, fish bastard!”
“The name’s Shanks, kelp-head.”
“Well, my name’s Zoro, not kelp-head.”
“I don’t think anyone even in my neck of the woods has hair like yours.”
“I’ll leave you here hurt, bastard, if that’s how you wanna play it.”
Shanks chuckled at the way the boy’s hackles were raised, like an upset kitten showing off their tiny claws.
“Thought you wanted your duel, little swordsman.”
Zoro’s eyes lit up at that.
“So, you’ll fight me once you’re healed?”
“Nope.”
The boy deflated in reply before perking up with determination.
“You will fight. I won’t give you a choice, but it’s bad form to attack an injured opponent in a duel so here, this is some stuff I pinched from Mihawk’s stash. He won’t care, I’m always getting hurt out here on my own.”
Shanks glanced down at the assortment of first aid materials. The kid did seem to know what he was doing considering what he had brought to Shanks. He quirked his eyebrow curiously at the boy as he pulled his tail fully out of the water and set about tending to his wounds.
“So, what exactly is the relationship between you and old Hawkeyes, kid?”
“Huh? Well, he’s training me.”
“Yeah, and?”
“What else does there need to be?”
“He doesn’t have to house you on his creepy island for that.”
Zoro shrugged in reply, noticeably shuffling uncomfortably.
“M’gonna take his title from him one day, think the thought excites him or whatever. He’s bored of everything and everyone. He thinks I’m interesting.”
Shanks picked up on the underlying pride in the boy’s voice at that description. Jeez, the kid was starved for attention and approval. If Mihawk was as socially inept as Shanks remembered, then he wasn’t doing much direct action in the way of reassuring the kid. Shanks teased Luffy a lot but he also was sure that he knew he was loved. Still, his little guppy had an unspoken fear of abandonment. Who wouldn’t with a dead mother, absent father and Garp as a grandfather? The old man thought that joining the Marines was going to keep Luffy off the chopping block even if the World Government had hunted his mother’s clan of mers to near extinction and his father was the World’s Most Wanted Criminal. It was no wonder Luffy swam out to sea on his own to try and defy Garp’s plans for him. He ended up in trouble quickly, almost being devoured by an out-of-place sea king in the East when Shanks found him, saved him and claimed him for his own. He hoped little Anchor wasn’t spiraling right now, thinking he’d left him without a word. With any luck, Camie, Sharley and the others were keeping him sufficiently entertained.
He dipped his fingers into the salve Zoro brought and flinched a little as he applied it to the stab wound on his tail, the appendage involuntarily tensing up at the contact. He glanced down at his shredded fin with a grimace as it lay uselessly against the grass, part of it hanging into the water like loose tapestry. He had been okay hunting in the river, catching the small fish that shot by along with the odd larger one that got sucked down the stream from the ocean, but he wouldn’t be able to swim much and with the salve, he’d have to stay out of the water to let the medicine do its work. He wasn’t eager to try hunting in a forest while in his mer form. He’d probably be able to stun small animals with his haki and roast something over fire or he could just eat it raw, it wouldn’t make him sick while he was in this form. Still, he didn’t relish having to lounge around the woods stuck in his mer form for days on end.
He sighed, feeling his gills flair at the motion before he consciously willed them away. It was still a strange sensation to feel them shifting and molding into his human neck even after five years of comfortably shifting back and forth, but it was for the best if he was going to spend the foreseeable future on land. Breathing out of both would’ve quickly become uncomfortable.
He glanced up and snorted at the expression of mild disgust and curiosity on the boy’s face.
“Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
“Yeah. So?”
Shanks snorted again at his bluntness before continuing to tend to his own wounds. Zoro shuffled a little closer before crouching down next to the older man, staring at his tail.
“Want to touch?” Shanks asked, practically reading the urge in the boy’s eyes.
“Is… is that allowed?”
“I didn’t think you’d care about something like permission,” Shanks replied, amused.
“I don’t really, but Mihawk says manners are important or whatever. They’re part of being a good swordsman.”
“I guess you’re still working on that bit then, huh?”
Zoro huffed and glared at his teasing, drawing a laugh from Shanks before he nodded at his tail. Zoro reached out hesitantly before small, calloused hands brushed over his scales.
“S’warm,” the green-haired boy noted with surprise.
“Merman or not, I’m still a mammal. I’m warm-blooded.”
“How does it work? This whole… mermaid thing.”
“Merman or just mer, if you like. And what do you mean?”
“Didn’t you use to have legs? That’s what Perona said. Said you used to be some bigshot pirate, a human pirate with legs.”
“I still am when it suits me. I can’t shift with my tail this wounded though. I’ll heal quicker and much more cleanly in this form.”
“Perona says only mermaids can split their tails to walk or whatever, so what’s the deal with that?”
“That’s a trait of some mer bloodlines, yes. Not the one I’m descended from, or half descended as the case may be. I’m only half mer. My birth father is human and my mother was from a special ancient line of merfolk, one of the first in existence. I was born with legs. I started being able to shift back and forth when I turned six. One of the men who raised me told me it was best to keep that sort of thing quiet unless I wanted to be hunted, captured and sold for profit or amusement. Mers go for the highest selling price at slave auctions which means that the buyers are likely the cruelest, looking to do irrevocable damage, and have money to spend to make it happen. I’m much more interested in not being hunted down for what I am, so I never let on.”
“A wise choice.”
Shanks and Zoro both jumped at the new voice. Shanks tensed as the tall man melted from the shadows, his sword across his back standing stark against the dappled sunlight.
Mihawk.
~*~*~
Zoro was hiding something.
Mihawk knew it the moment the boy came back to the manor, hours after lunch and damp from who knew what. He had noticed the boy slipping into Mihawk’s personal living quarters and coming out with several medical items, though his young ward didn’t seem any more hurt than usual. The boy had headed back out afterwards before showing up hours later, escorted by some of the humandrills with a dour look on his face.
“Do I want to know why you’re pouting,” Mihawk had inquired over dinner.
Zoro had bristled at that.
“I’m not pouting! I’m not some damn baby.”
“Language.”
Zoro rolled his eyes in reply before grumbling out an apology. Mihawk stared at him with sharp eyes before speaking again.
“I noticed some missing supplies from my medicine kit.”
Zoro tensed up at that before consciously relaxing.
“Oh, really?”
Mihawk was mildly impressed by how steady his voice was.
“You didn’t mention being hurt after last night’s affairs.”
“I wasn’t.”
The truth.
“The supply then?”
“I dunno. Wasn’t me.”
A lie.
“Hmm.”
He supposed he could press, but Zoro had a rather long stubborn streak and Mihawk thought it was best to investigate the matter personally, especially given their “guest”.
His suspicions were confirmed as he followed Zoro at a distance. He nearly gave up as he watched the boy wander around aimlessly, getting himself more and more lost as the day wore on, before he eventually managed to find the river and the merman that had taken up residence in it.
In the glow of the sun, Mihawk could see Shanks better. And it really was him. The same red hair hanging wet around his face, the same scars acquired from his encounter with Whitebeard’s son, the same muscled form and tanned skin telling of a hard life at sea. He did have more muscle than before, his teeth were sharpened to a point in this form, he had gills on his neck, nails sharp like claws and his tail was at least 5 feet of gleaming red scales and muscle.
It was Red Hair, however evolved he had become.
Mihawk let the conversation go on for a few moments before he made his presence known.
He didn’t speak for a while past his initial comment. He didn’t truly need to. He studied how his presence affected the others instead. Shanks was tense, his wounded tail flicked once against the grass almost like a sword being brandished against a threat. Zoro jumped to his feet, eyes wide as he stared at Mihawk in shock.
“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”
Mihawk quirked an eyebrow at that, not answering. The boy shuffled uncomfortably before continuing to speak.
“I… he was hurt,” he blurted, voice too loud in the quiet.
“I didn’t tell you because he wasn’t dangerous. I mean, he was, but not to me. And he promised to duel me—”
“No, I didn’t.”
“—but he’s hurt. I can’t fight him like this. Plus, he saved me. I kinda almost drowned yesterday, but he helped me, so I helped him in return. That’s all.”
Mihawk’s expression didn’t change. He looked at Zoro for a long moment, unreadable as ever.
“I noticed the missing supplies. I assumed you were injured but you weren’t as far as I could tell,” he said calmly.
Zoro shifted, clearly uncomfortable.
“I was gonna tell you. I just… he needed help.”
Mihawk’s gaze flicked to Shanks, then back to Zoro.
“You upheld your honor as a swordsman.”
Zoro blinked.
“Huh?”
“You didn’t strike an injured opponent. You offered aid and showed restraint.”
Zoro flushed, mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure whether to argue or accept the compliment.
“I wasn’t trying to be honorable,” he muttered.
“Then you were instinctively correct,” Mihawk replied, voice dry.
Shanks watched the exchange with quiet interest. Mihawk’s tone was the same, flat and precise, but there was something else in it. A softness, an echo of indulgence.
It reminded Shanks a little of the small glimpses he’d seen during their duels. They never lasted long and if the swordsman ever noticed the slip, he course-corrected harshly. He didn’t do so this time, even after Zoro offered an awkward, shy smile at what Shanks was sure Mihawk would call a compliment.
“You’ve changed,” he commented, tilting his head curiously at the swordsman.
Mihawk turned his gaze back to him, his yellow eyes roving his form before coming back to Shanks’ red eyes.
“So have you.”
Shanks snorted at the dry tone.
“Fair.”
Zoro looked between them.
“You two know each other, right?”
“Once,” Mihawk said.
“Long ago,” Shanks added.
“Perona says you guys fought.”
“Many times.”
“Who won?”
Mihawk didn’t answer. Shanks just smiled.
Shanks shifted slightly, tail curling protectively as Mihawk stepped closer. The swordsman’s gaze swept over the shredded fin, the salve-streaked scales, the blood drying in thin rivulets down Shanks’ scales.
“You’re applying that wrong,” Mihawk said flatly.
Shanks raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? And here I thought stabbing me was your contribution to my recovery.”
“You were trespassing.”
“I was resting. Squatting at worst.”
Mihawk crouched beside him without comment, reaching for the salve Zoro had brought. His fingers were cool and precise as he dipped into the mixture then began smoothing it over the torn flesh with practiced ease.
Zoro watched from a few feet away, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes flicked between the two men like he was watching something he didn’t quite understand.
Shanks winced as Mihawk pressed against a deeper gash.
“You always were heavy-handed.”
“You always were evasive.”
“Still am,” Shanks said with a grin.
“And yet, you couldn’t evade my blade.”
“Ouch, low blow.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t aim lower.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t bite you.”
Zoro blinked at that.
“You bite people,” the boy asked.
“Only when provoked,” Shanks said, flashing his sharp teeth.
Mihawk gave a quiet hum, almost amused.
Zoro stared at them both, trying to reconcile the image of his stoic mentor with the man calmly applying salve to a merman while trading barbs like old friends. He didn’t understand it. He’d seen Mihawk speak to warlords, marines, even pirates who came to challenge him. He’d seen him dismiss, insult, and ignore, but this quiet exchange, this teasing, this ease, this was new.
“You’re not usually like this,” Zoro commented.
Mihawk glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re talking.”
“That is generally something one does, yes.”
“You’re not glaring or doing that raised eyebrow thing where you make everyone know you think they’re worth dirt. You’re not threatening to cut someone’s head off. It’s different. It’s weird. It’s freaking me out.”
Shanks chuckled at the boy’s words.
“Is this your first time seeing him joke?”
“Is that what that was?”
“It was a Hawky joke, they’re bound to be a little dry but witty all the same.”
“Hawky?”
“It’s my nickname for our dear swordsman here.”
“It is not and if you continue to call me that, I’ll do worse than these measly wounds.”
“I’d love to see that. I can still take you, Hawky, Mer form or not.”
~*~*~
Zoro sat cross-legged near the riverbank, Wado Ichimonji resting across his lap. Mihawk had finished tending to Shanks’ wounds and now stood a few feet away, arms folded, gaze alert. Shanks, tail curled beneath him, lounged against a mossy rock, looking far too relaxed for someone recently impaled.
“So, you two fought. A lot,” Zoro said, eyes flicking between them.
Shanks grinned at the boy before nodding in confirmation.
“Tell me about one of the duels. A real one, not some polite sparring. I want to know what it was like,” Zoro pressed.
Shanks stretched his arms overhead, the motion making his tail flick lazily.
“Alright, alright. Let me think. There was one years ago, back in the Grand Line. We were on a crumbling cliffside, wind howling, waves crashing below. Mihawk had just cut down a sea king with one swing, and I—”
“You were drunk,” Mihawk interrupted.
Shanks waved a hand.
“Details, details. Anyway, I challenged him. He said nothing, just drew Yoru. I, of course, was wielding Gryphon, and the moment our blades clashed, the cliff split in two.”
Zoro’s eyes widened.
“You split a cliff?”
Shanks nodded excitedly.
“It was already eroding,” Mihawk commented.
“Still split it clean in half. And that was just the beginning. We fought for hours, blades ringing, haki flaring, the sky darkening overhead.”
“It lasted twenty-three minutes,” Mihawk corrected.
“Time is subjective in battle,” Shanks dismissed breezily.
“Anyway, at one point, I disarmed him and sent Yoru flying into the ocean.”
“You tripped.”
“I lunged.”
“You tripped on a crab.”
“That crab was aggressive.”
Zoro looked between them, baffled.
“Wait, you disarmed Mihawk?”
“For three seconds,” Mihawk said.
“Long enough for me to offer him a drink,” Shanks added with a wink.
“You were bleeding.”
“From a scratch.”
“From your shoulder to your hip.”
“Still walked away.”
“Crawled.”
Zoro stared, unsure whether to be impressed or confused.
“So who won?”
“We both did,” Shanks answered with a smile.
Zoro frowned in reply.
“That’s not how duels work.”
Shanks leaned forward, eyes twinkling.
“When you fight someone who knows you better than you know yourself, winning isn’t the point of the duel.”
Mihawk’s gaze flicked to him, unreadable.
Zoro sat back, absorbing that.
“Still sounds like you lost.”
“I lost a lot, but I never lost to him,” Shanks laughed.
“That, at least, is accurate,” Mihawk admitted in a quiet tone.
Zoro looked at Mihawk, then at Shanks, then back again.
“You two are weird.”
“You’ll understand when you’re older,” Shanks replied in a deliberately condescending tone, knowing it’d rile the boy up. Sure enough, he glared at him with annoyance.
“I’m already a swordsman.”
“Half a swordsman, kid. Literally. I think you’re only half the size of my tail.”
Zoro glared harder at him before flicking his eyes towards Mihawk.
“Sure I can’t forget swordsman honor and just smack this guy?”
Mihawk sighed in reply.
“Red Hair is a test of your will, if you can outlast him, then you will outlast anything.”
Zoro sighed before giving a determined nod towards his guardian.
“I’ll think of it as endurance training then.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Oi, I’m right here you know.”
The boy and his master glanced at each other before glancing back at Shanks blankly.
“Rude,” the merman grumbled.
Mihawk and Zoro stayed out with Shanks for quite a bit, until the forest had settled into a late afternoon hush, golden light filtering through the canopy and casting dappled shadows across the riverbank. Shanks lay back against the moss, tail stretched out and bandaged, his expression unreadable. Mihawk stood nearby, arms folded, gaze steady. Zoro sat cross-legged between them, chewing on a stalk of grass like he wasn’t watching both men with hawk-like intensity.
“Much as I enjoyed the visit boys, you’d ought to start making your way back home. It’ll be dinner time soon and I’ve gotta start hunting for some fish to eat,” Shanks said as he lay back on his perch.
Mihawk stared at him steadily for a long while.
“You can’t stay out here,” he said finally, voice low but firm.
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“You’re injured.”
“I’ve been injured in worse places.”
“The mansion is quiet, dry, stocked. You’ll heal faster.”
“You offering me a guest room, Hawkeyes,” Shanks asked with amusement.
“I’m offering you a roof.”
Shanks hesitated. The idea of staying in Mihawk’s home was strangely intimate. They hadn’t shared more than a battlefield in years, and yet…
He thought of Luffy, of the way his guppy’s face lit up when he returned from a trip, of the way he clung to Shanks’ arm, asking for stories, for company, for reassurance. He needed to get back to Fishman Island and to do that, he needed to heal.
“I’m not exactly housebroken. You really want me slithering around your house,” Shanks said by way of warning.
“You’re not a stray or a snake,” Mihawk replied.
“You’re still a warlord, aren’t you?”
“And?”
“I slipped government custody before I wound up here. With my history alone, aren’t you supposed to report me or something?”
Zoro snorted at that.
“Mihawk’s a pirate. He’s free to do what he wants. What’s the World Government going to do to stop him?”
“He’s supposed to serve at the pleasure of the World Government. Without their immunity—”
“I’d still do exactly what I want, no more and no less. Currently, I have no desire to hand you over to them. However, I’m also under no illusion that your general demeanor won’t make me reconsider that stance. All the same, my offer stands.”
“You should come with us,” Zoro declared before Shanks could speak.
“Why?”
Zoro shrugged, trying to look casual.
“I wanna see how you fight. You’re weird. You talk to Mihawk like he’s not scary. I wanna learn stuff from you.”
Shanks raised an eyebrow at that.
“Should I be scared of him?”
“Most people are.”
“True,” Shanks agreed with a chuckle.
Zoro leaned forward.
“Come on. You’ll heal faster. And I wanna know how you use your tail in a fight. That sounds cool.”
Shanks blinked at that.
“You think my tail is cool?”
“Yeah. It’s like a whip. Or a third sword.”
Shanks glanced at Mihawk, who was watching the exchange with quiet amusement.
“You’re raising a strange one,” Shanks muttered.
“He’s raised himself to this point,” Mihawk replied.
Shanks sighed, tail flicking once in the grass.
“Fine. But if you make me sleep in a dungeon, I’m flooding it.”
“There’s no dungeon.”
“Then I’ll flood the wine cellar.”
Mihawk turned and began walking away.
“You’ll be in the east wing,” he called behind him.
Zoro jumped to his feet with a grin.
“I’ll show you.”
Shanks watched them go, then pushed himself upright with a groan. His tail throbbed, but the pain was manageable. He glanced at the river one last time before following the two.
He didn’t know what this was yet, but it felt like something old was brewing again.