We were still on the ship. Mihawk and I were training.
"Strike like you mean to kill me." I told him, eyes blindfolded.
"You really think this is gonna work?" he asked, raising a brow.
"We have to start somewhe-"
Before I could finish the sentence, he struck me.
Whack.
"Tss." I hissed through my teeth. 'I definitely felt that one.' I thought to myself, jaw tightening.
"Again." I said, straightening up. "That's how you're supposed to strike."
He began circling me slowly, weapon in hand. "Did you sense the hit coming?"
"I did… too late." I replied.
He struck once more, this time aiming for my leg. I bent slightly, feeling the shift in the air just a fraction earlier, but still not fast enough to avoid it.
"You really think you'll learn to feel without seeing?" He asked.
"Yes. Observation Haki."
He went quiet for a second. Then I heard him move again. The wooden blade sliced through the air. This time, I raised my forearm just in time to partially block the attack.
And so the training went on, blow after blow.
'I don't know if it's because I'm an orca, I couldn't help but think, but my hearing is incredibly sharp. And there's something else… another sense. Something like… echolocation, I think.'
Those thoughts circled in my mind as Mihawk continued his strikes. I focused, tuned into the smallest vibrations around me.
He swung again.
I barely dodged. 'close.'
Then, a voice broke through the rhythm of our sparring.
"We're approaching Kokoyashi." Beckman called out from the helm.
Mihawk paused, lowering his weapon. I lifted the blindfold and turned toward the bow, the silhouette of land just beginning to form on the horizon.
We were getting closer to the island when Beckman spoke up from the helm. "A ship's heading toward us."
We turned our eyes toward the horizon, a larger vessel was cutting through the water, quickly closing the distance. As it drew near, it cast a long shadow over our own.
It pulled up alongside us.
From its deck, a group of kids leaned over the railing. Their ragtag outfits, overconfidence, and makeshift weapons gave off more arrogance than threat.
One of them, standing front and center, had messy pastel violet hair and a smug expression.
"Hand over what you've got, and no one gets hurt." he said loudly, trying to sound intimidating.
We didn't say a word. No reaction. We just stared up at them, unimpressed.
His expression tightened. He clenched his fists, clearly irritated by the silence.
"Hey! Did you not hear me!?" he shouted again, louder this time, his voice cracking with frustration.
"Yeah you didn't hear the boss!"
"Are they deaf!"
"Let's steal them, Captain."
"There are only three of them, the group from earlier was larger, that should do it!"
The others were shouting and laughing around.
I exchanged a glance with Mihawk, who raised a brow but said nothing. Beckman, still holding the helm, exhaled a puff of smoke, visibly unimpressed.
I jumped onto the opposing ship without hesitation, landing heavily on the deck.
"Let's do this quickly." I tell them.
"I needed to stretch my legs anyway." Mihawk said, calmly following suit as he leapt beside me.
Without a moment's delay, we went to work.
The so-called "crew" of kids didn't know what hit them. Chaos erupted on their deck. Some of them tried to rush me all at once, thinking their numbers would make a difference. But after a few hits, they started to realize, I wasn't even flinching.
"Who sent me... shit." A guy to my right says.
"Damn, he's too hard." one of them to my left said. While another tried to escape.
I knocked them out without forcing.
Meanwhile, Mihawk moved through the group with casual precision, using the small blade that hung around his neck. It was more than enough for the situation.
He parried and struck with surgical grace, almost bored.
The pastel-haired leader backed up slightly, his confidence now visibly cracking.
After we'd thoroughly beaten them down, I stood right in front of the so-called leader. He was shorter than me, way less imposing, and I could see sweat dripping down his forehead like a faucet.
"Bring me all your treasures." I told him, my voice low and cold.
He didn't waste a second, no resistance, just panic. He scrambled to gather everything and handed it over. Mihawk and I hauled it back onto our ship. We cast off and continued on our way like nothing had happened.
As we sailed off and the distance between our ships grew, we heard the kid shout, his voice cracking with emotion, tears in his eyes.
"Remember my name! I'm Don Krieg! I'll get my revenge, just you wait!"
Back on our ship, Beckman glanced over his shoulder with a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"That was fun for you guys?" he asked, voice cool, amused.
I just smirked. "I couldn't refuse such easy money."
Later...
We were eating a dish that Mihawk prepared for us, with the ingredients we had. Mihawk had surprisingly managed to cook up some impressive meals during our days at sea.
We had come to discover, that he had a real talent for it, refined even. Each dish, no matter how simple the ingredients, was balanced in flavor and always satisfying.
"I didn't think you'd be the type." Beckman had said once.
"I'm not. I just don't like bad food." Mihawk replied bluntly, not even looking up from the pan.
I had to admit, he had a point.
Anyway, we arrived at Kokoyashi.
'It's much prettier, more colorful, more lively than in… but then again, I guess Arlong hasn't come through here yet.' I thought to myself, taking in the peaceful sight of the island.
Children were laughing and running through the streets, vendors shouting joyfully over their fresh fruits and fish. Even the buildings were painted in warm tones that reflected the vibrant energy of the place.
We had just docked.
"Not a bad place." Beckman said, glancing around.
"Yeah, it's nice." I replied, and we began walking through the town.
As we moved forward, a child who had been playing suddenly bumped into me by accident.
"Sorry, mister, whoa, you're so... strange." the kid said, tilting his head up in surprise. Then, with a smile, he added. "Here, take an orange to say sorry!" He tossed it toward me and ran back to his friends without waiting for a response.
I caught the orange mid-air, peeled it and took a bite. 'Refreshing.'
We continued walking.
The village was far from isolated. Kokoyashi was bustling with life, filled not only with the local townsfolk but also with travelers, foreigners.
After getting a feel for the place and exploring the streets, we eventually found a quiet spot just outside the busier areas where we could settle down and train. It was a wide clearing near the edge of town, partially shaded by trees, with flat terrain, perfect for practice.
On the way there, we passed by a group of young Marine recruits in uniform, fresh-faced and likely not long out of training.
"Well, well." Mihawk said, eyeing them.
"Exactly what we needed." Beckman added with a smirk.
"Indeed." I said, watching the group. "They'll point us to the 16th Branch base."
"But before that, we need to train." I said, my voice calm but firm. "Lately, we've only done it at sea-"
I glanced at Mihawk and Beckman.
"-which limits your movements... unlike me."
Mihawk crossed his arms, slightly narrowing his eyes. "Tss. You're right."
Beckman gave a slow nod, a faint smile on his lips as he lit a cigarette. "Fair enough. I've been feeling a little too... buoyant lately."
I stepped into the open clearing and looked over the space.
"Then let's make the most of the land while we have it."
And just like that, we started to spar.
In an instant, it turned into a two-against-one. Them, Mihawk and Beckman, against me.
Mihawk moved in first, blade flashing with precision. I ducked under it, only to find Beckman already circling, using his rifle to limit my space.
"Hah... you're serious," I said under my breath, blocking Mihawk's strike with my forearm while spinning to avoid Beckman's shot.
"You said train, didn't you?" Beckman smirked, accelerating the pace.
Beckman was firing faster now. Each time I dodged Mihawk's blade swipes, a bullet would follow close behind, forcing me to twist, duck, or absorb the impact.
Mihawk kept the pressure up. His strikes weren't wild, every slash was measured. He was forcing me into a specific rhythm, creating openings Beckman could exploit from range. It was coordinated, they were hunting me.
Still, I held my own.
I moved through Mihawk's attacks, parrying with my forearms, legs, even redirecting his blade with the flat of my hand. I was stronger, more durable. I landed a few clean hits, enough to stagger him or force him back. But every time I thought I could press in, bang!, Beckman's rifle would bark, and I'd have to disengage.
Tss, I clicked my tongue, ducking under a shot that barely got me. 'If I don't close that gap with Beckman soon, I'll be stuck dancing like this forever.'
I made a decision.
I caught Mihawk's next strike, not with my hand, but by stepping into it, forcing it to get stuck in the ground, followed by a kick to Mihawk's stomach, it gave me the opening I needed,
I used the momentum to twist around, my body low, and burst forward like a cannonball, straight toward Beckman.
His eyes widened just slightly before he fired again.
I knocked the shot off-course with my forearm. Then I was on him.
He tried to step back, reload, but I grabbed the barrel of his rifle and yanked it aside. My fist was already flying toward his gut-
-when Mihawk's blade came singing toward my back.
I twisted mid-strike, ducking again, this time I headbutted him, that stopped him. "Not bad at all." I say.
Mihawk smirked faintly, blade low. "You're not bad either… Captain."
Beckman sat up, lighting another cigarette with his usual calm. "That was intense." he said, exhaling smoke. "But we're getting better."
As we caught our breath, Mihawk spoke up, his voice as calm and analytical as ever.
"Your skin." he said, eyeing me with that sharp gaze of his. "It's gotten tougher. But at the same time… it still has that soft, almost oily texture to it. Makes it hard to pierce cleanly with a blade."
I looked down at my arm.
"Yeah." I muttered. "I've noticed that too. Blades tend to slide more than they sink."
Beckman chuckled lightly, wiping sweat from his brow as he leaned against a tree. "Durable skin a little rubbery, some kind of natural resistance. You can tank hits like that and still charge straight through, you fishmen are truly something else."
"It's a gift." I said with a faint grin. "But I'll need more than thick skin."
Mihawk nodded once. "True. But it's a start."
I felt the fire in my blood still burning. "Anyway, let's go get something to eat." I said, glancing up at the sky, now painted in deep shades of navy and purple. The buzz of the village had quieted into a calmer evening hum.
The transition from bright day to night had crept up on us. We'd been training for hours.
"Yeah." Beckman stretched his arms behind his head, his movements lazy but satisfied. "I could eat a whole damn sea king right now."
Mihawk sheathed his blade, his expression as composed as ever. "I know a place. Passed it earlier near the market square. Looked clean... and had wine."
"Lead the way then." I said, rotating my shoulder with a grunt.
We started walking down the torch-lit streets of Kokoyashi, the scent of grilled fish and spiced broth wafting through the air. The lanterns hanging from stalls danced with the ocean breeze, and in the distance, the laughter of villagers drifted through the night.