Chapter 6

"I saw that."

Zoro's face contorted in annoyance. He'd been stuck in the courtyard all day, inching towards the castle doors. Progress was painfully slow, as each time Mihawk noticed movement, he forced Zoro a step backwards. The young swordsman was not even halfway to the door. He planted one foot squarely behind himself before bringing his feet together. At this rate, it would be the next morning before he went inside.

The day had also been one of the rare, sunlit ones. As such, the courtyard had become a sauna so overwhelmingly hot Zoro had removed his shirt—at the cost of several receding steps, of course. As the afternoon wore on, he knew the sacrifice had been worth it. Mihawk, however, was fully garbed and had not moved once from his perch, not even to remove his coat. Despite his curiosity, Zoro did not dare to ask the shichibukai about it.

During his crawl, Zoro tacitly considered his lesson. Mihawk had told him that subtlety in the muscles translated to subtlety in the blade. He had mentioned something about the grains of sand making up the lengthy beach and how small movements could create massive events. Zoro could see credibility in the statement. He could easily agree with it. Those facts did not make him any less irritated with his Sisyphean task.

Night had fallen before Zoro hit the halfway mark. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Mihawk just wanted to make him suffer—even if that didn't necessarily seem in keeping with the sword master's normal behavior.

His mind drifted as he slowly, silently moved. He wondered about the rest of the crew as he often did these days. He wondered just how much progress he could make in two years—he'd already progressed a bit during his stay so far. He reminisced about his home, far away on some insignificant island that would be nigh impossible for him to relocate on his own. He thought about the Sunny and just how it was going to stay safe by itself. He even reflected on what lessons he had already learned, and wondered when he was going to get out of the more elementary teachings. Zoro wondered if Mihawk was ever going to teach him anything useful.

It was several more tedious steps backwards before Zoro's hand rested on the door, though he was hesitant to open it. He felt himself tense, more wound up than he had been all day, as he stood at the threshold. Quiet footsteps approached. Zoro didn't dare turn his head for fear of being sent back another step.

"We will start again in the morning. Go get some sleep," Mihawk said quietly, holding the door open.

Zoro gave a small grunt in recognition and ambled through the entrance, somehow finding his way back to his room. He passed out, too tired to pay his complaining stomach attention. Like a sack of concrete he dropped upon his bed. No dreams bothered him, and he woke to the sound of Mihawk's voice.

"Come. Breakfast is ready. When you've finished eating, you'll cross the courtyard again."

Getting dressed and fed blurred together, and Zoro found himself only truly awake once he stepped into the stark morning air. He quietly crossed to the far side as Mihawk once more took up his perch. After a moment's thought, the young swordsman decided it would probably be best to go shirtless the whole time, just in case.

Without a word to Mihawk, he began the agonizing crawl. The day plodded along, but Zoro considered himself lucky that the sun was blocked by the usual overcast. Over the course of the day he had to retreat eighteen steps, and again it was well into the night before the two men retired. They kept this routine for days, with Zoro making better and better time. After a week or so, Mihawk started giving him goals: make it before sundown, before evening, before noon. Nearly a month after he had started the exercise, Zoro could make the crawl in an hour, leaving his afternoons free for other exercises.

Despite his progress, however, Zoro felt like he was failing at something. Mihawk had become increasingly scarce throughout the month. On the rare occasion the young pirate did come across his teacher, the older man was silent. Something about his behavior put Zoro on edge, but there was little he could do about it. Instead, Zoro threw himself wholly into the tasks he had already been given until they were second nature. The distraction worked for a while, but it was only a temporary fix.

One morning, Zoro stood before the dining hall doors, unwilling to enter. Just on the other side he heard the screech of Perona's anger and the muffled quietness of Mihawk's reply. They were probably arguing over who was going to cook breakfast again—one fight Zoro was surprised to see Perona still starting. He wavered a little bit, debating silently if he really wanted to talk to his fleeting teacher that badly.

Perona yelled accusingly, "You were totally muttering his name in your sleep."

For a moment, Zoro stood dumbly outside the door. His mind worked without working, and he decided that he did not need to speak with Mihawk that badly. He left in silence, mind still numb. It was only after he made it outside that his brain function returned.

The first thing Zoro noticed was that his teacher was not present. Perhaps the older swordsman was still at breakfast. Zoro was in no hurry to find out, and instead sat at the far end of the courtyard, listening to the world around him. By noon, Mihawk had still not arrived, and Zoro decided to do the crawl himself. Once done, he made a beeline for the dining hall but only found Perona.

Despite his curiosity, the young swordsman did not ask Perona about what she had said earlier. He ate quietly, giving no indication as to what he had overheard. The princess, on the other hand, had a sly glint in her eye but said nothing. Just as Zoro was on his way out, she stopped him.

"Why weren't you at breakfast this morning? I busted my ass making it." Her voice seemed off. Instead of being harsh and accusatory, it was slick, perhaps even sweet or worried. It reminded him of Nami when he had first met her. That kind of voice put him on edge.

"I wasn't hungry," he replied.

"Really? Then it wasn't you I saw standing outside this morning?"

Zoro's eyes narrowed. "You saying you're spying on me?"

"Of course not," Perona replied, putting her hands up defensively, "But you're not very quiet."

"I wasn't hungry."

"Sure you weren't." She left without another word but gave him a knowing glance on her way out.

A while after Perona left Zoro followed suit. He meandered the dim halls, partly wanting to find Mihawk and ask him about the argument and partly wanting to be left with his thoughts. As he walked, he encountered no one, but he had the prickly feeling of being watched. Alone with the walls, portraits, and his lone candle, he found his mind becoming blank. He moved because it was better than being still. Only after he mounted the library stairs did he realize where he was.

He halted briefly, glancing about for signs of life. The room seemed desolate save for his flickering candle. Something was still off though. Something was watching him, like it had been in the hall. Zoro's brow furrowed, and he slowly descended the stairs. His arms prickled as he inspected the lower floor, trying to find the source of his unease. Once more he mounted the stairs and began investigating the second story.

From below, a gentle creak sounded. Muffled footsteps rose, and Zoro poked his head over the balcony. Mihawk made a beeline for his normal, out-of-the-way desk, seemingly unaware of Zoro's presence. The young swordsman wanted to call out and ask about his teacher's behavior, but he could not find it in himself to do so.

After a moment of silent debate, he descended the stairs again. Each footfall was hollow and heavy, and sunk into his stomach. He thought about what he was going to say, what question was best to ask. Mihawk did not look up as he approached.

"Why weren't you in the courtyard this morning?"

Mihawk kept his eyes on his book. "Do you need me to watch you constantly like a child?"

"No, but you've been watching me every other time. I thought it was to keep me honest."

Golden eyes glanced up before hastily returning to the page before them. "You don't need me for that any longer."

"So you're just going to abandon me?"

Mihawk stayed silent.

"You took me in as your student. You agreed to train me. So far, what have I learned? Jack shit, that's what! Everything you've taught me won't do me any good out on the Grand Line. If you're fucking with me just so I won't have a chance to beat you when the time comes, I swear I'll—"

"Kill me?" The shichibukai rose, his face a mask. "I thought you were here because you were incapable of doing so. Any threats you make along those lines are useless."

"If you're not going to teach me, why the hell am I still here?"

"You came of your own accord. If you honestly have so little faith in me, perhaps you should go."

Zoro swayed a bit, his fists clenched. "No. You promised to teach me, and that's what you're going to do." For a moment Mihawk stood silent, eying his student. Before he could respond, however, Zoro posed his burning question. "The ghost girl said you were muttering someone's name in your sleep. Who's?"

The shichibukai seemed to pale in the faint light. It was a moment before he responded. "Get out."


"Now, Roronoa," he barked, louder than Zoro had ever heard him. The young swordsman kept his ground.

"No. Why've you been ditching me during my lessons? This sure as hell isn't the first time you've done it."


"Not until you answer."

Zoro stuck his face in Mihawk's, glaring up at him. The two men held each other's gaze solidly, neither willing to give quarter. The young pirate could feel his heart thumping viciously, and his entire frame burned with adrenaline. He thought he saw his teacher shaking. He ignored it.

"What do you think of me, Roronoa?" The shichibukai's voice was nigh inaudible, and it trembled. His eyes did not waiver.

"I look up to you." Zoro's response was quiet. "What's happened to you?"

"You have. Now get out."

Mihawk only released his breath when the door shut quietly behind his student. He instantly regretted everything he had just said. Frustration had taken hold of him, and in its embrace he had confessed everything he had planned on keeping secret.

Ever since he woke that morning, he knew the day was going to be sour. His dreams had been unpleasant, as they had been after his incident with Perona's ghost. Breakfast had been a fiasco, especially after she had confronted him—her lie about 'accidentally' stumbling upon him was unconvincing. Apparently, Zoro had overheard. Mihawk wondered if the girl had planned the whole thing.

He sat wearily at his desk. Some part of him was relieved that his feelings were exposed, while the rest of him tensed. His pride was maimed. The facade he had kept for so long was shattered. The raw part of him vowed never to look the young pirate in the eyes again. The tug in his gut clenched painfully.

The sun was long gone before the shichibukai looked out the curtains. He had only risen because of exhaustion. In silence, he plodded back to his chambers, slipping into sleep without bothering to undress or cover himself with the bedclothes. His sleep was troubled, and he woke on no less than eight occasions before he gave up and rose.

The shichibukai did not bother with breakfast; instead, he made his way to the main courtyard. There was no doubt in his mind that he could not undo what he had said, but perhaps he could at least repair the damage somewhat. Maybe this was what he needed to get on with his life.

Perched upon his usual wall, Mihawk rose his face to the sky and breathed deeply. The air outside the castle, though less oppressive, still filled the lungs in a damp way. He closed his eyes, listening for the ocean and wind and occasional complaint from a humandrill. His mind cleared, allowing him to focus on his problem.

A quiet squeal came from the door, followed by steady footfalls. Mihawk remained still. There were eyes on him, of that he had no doubt, but his student remained quiet. The world beyond went on like normal.

"What do you want me to do today?" Zoro's voice seemed unsure. The tone hit Mihawk in the gut.

"I want you to show me the fruit of your labors over the past month," he replied, not opening his eyes, "Go get your blades." Once Zoro was inside, Mihawk let out his breath. He could feel his stomach lurch in a longing way, but he remained where he was. As he waited, he removed Kogatana from around his neck and held the small blade loosely in his hand. Zoro returned shortly, and only then did his teacher look at him. "Do you remember the day you and I met?"

The student's brow furrowed slightly. "Yeah, I remember."

"Do you remember what I told you then about the importance of subtlety?"


"Very well. Show me what you've learned."

With ease, Mihawk slid off the wall and landed gracefully. Though he seemed relaxed, his muscles were taut and his eyes keen. Student reflected teacher as the former settled his blades.

Zoro struck first, his swords shimmering in the dim light. Mihawk moved easily out of the way, deflecting a slash from his side. He retaliated, lashing out and nicking his student's ear before stepping out of another attack. They went back and forth for a while, a fighting tomcat and panther swiping at each other. Each attack Zoro made was either dodged or countered. One by one, his blades were struck from his hands, clattering far from their master's grasp. He bled from several razor cuts. Mihawk was unscathed.

"You're improving," the teacher commented, "but your movements are still too clumsy. I want you to practice moving with your blades like you've been crossing this courtyard." Zoro turned to retrieve his blades, but Mihawk stopped him. "Tomorrow. For now, we need to get you cleaned up."

The student gave him a confused look as he settled his swords. "Why? They're just nicks."

"Some of the smallest wounds hurt us the greatest," Mihawk replied, removing a small cloth from his coat and deftly cleaning Kogatana.

Zoro just shrugged and headed towards the castle, his teacher just behind him. They entered without a word and traversed the main hall in silence. As they came to the hub of hallways, the shichibukai bid his student follow him. The hall they entered was one Zoro had never bothered with, but it seemed no different from the others. Though there were no lights, Mihawk knew his way, and Zoro followed by sound. Before too long, they had stopped and lit a candle to reveal a small washroom.

The first thing that Zoro noticed was that this room was superior to the one he frequented. The faucet seemed to be ornately carved, and the cistern was of reddish granite. The mirror behind it was full-body and beautifully decorated. Gently, Mihawk set the candle down upon one of the several stands around the room and stood back from the sink. As Zoro washed the blood from his face and arms, his teacher rummaged through the cabinet behind him.

"Here," he said, offering a small, glass jar with a silver lid. "This salve is quite useful for healing cuts."

Zoro opened it carefully and looked inside. "You don't use this very often, do you?"

"Not anymore."

With a shrug, Zoro smeared some of the amber-hued cream on his arms, gently rubbing the salve into his minor wounds. As he started on his face, he glanced in the mirror.

"Damn," he mumbled, "Started bleeding from this one again."

Before Zoro had time to tend the cut, Mihawk turned his student's face around to inspect the small amount of blood oozing down his face. With a thumb, the master swordsman wiped the ruddy droplet away, and thoughtlessly licked it off. In the moment before he realized what he had done, he focused on the taste of it—was it sweeter than most? Zoro's eye caught his and brought him back to himself.

"That was more efficient than dirtying one of my washcloths," he lied swiftly. Zoro bought the excuse and continued.

Once the young man finally coated all his wounds, he returned the jar to his teacher. As Mihawk replaced the salve, his mind tried to think of ways to extend his time alone with his student. Though nothing came to mind exactly, Zoro gave him an excuse.

"I never come down this way. Where are we?"

"This is the northern wing of the castle. Below are the dungeons, and above are the more lavish sleeping quarters. I believe the monarchs that lived here before used them as their apartments."

"Is that where you sleep?"


"Do you sleep in the king's bedroom?"

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. Was this an invitation, or just innocent questioning? It was more likely the latter, but in the slim chance it was the former...

"Are you really that interested in where I sleep?" he asked, probing.

"Kinda. I pretty much never see you except for during lessons or at dinner."

"You've found me in the library before."

"You're not always there when I look."

Mihawk thought for a moment. He still felt that Zoro was not quite aware of what he was saying, what he was doing. "You're absolutely certain you want to see my sleeping quarters?"

"Might as well."

"Very well. Come along."

The two of them left the room, with Mihawk grabbing the candle on his way out. He swept down the hall, Zoro in his wake. They passed in silence. The shichibukai's thoughts tortured him, berating him for the mistake he was making. He was committed, though, and could not stop the avalanche. They came to a winding stairwell and descended. The air grew more musty as they went, and before long they reached the bottom.

"You sleep in the dungeons?" Zoro asked skeptically. Somehow, he found he was only mildly surprised.

"I find it's harder to be harassed in the middle of the night if you sleep somewhere unexpected."


They strode abreast down the hall, Mihawk running his hands over the doors. Although he knew which one was his from years of living in the castle, he did not trust himself enough to remember with his mind so cluttered. He halted once he felt the familiar carving.

"This one," he said quietly, swinging the door inward. He stepped back to allow his student room to look.

Boldly, Zoro stepped inside. His eyes were automatically drawn to Kokuto Yoru, who hung majestically by her master's bedside. Like a magnet, she drew him forward until he stood before her, hypnotized. Meekly, his hand approached, stopping inches from the intricate hilt.

"You may touch Yoru," Mihawk said, closing the door quietly behind him, "She will not bite."

Zoro looked to his teacher, a somewhat relieved smile on his face. "Thanks. I was always taught to not handle another's weapon without their permission."

"A wise policy. Your former teacher must have been accomplished."

Zoro shrugged. "Not really. He had a school, yeah, but he wasn't famous for his swordsmanship."

"Fame for being good with a blade is not always the boon you would think."

"You would know, huh." He returned his attention to Yoru.

Quietly, Mihawk drew a key from the table beside the door. He stood a moment, key in hand, his eyes on his student. Vaguely, he wondered if he were being toyed with, being tested. His mouth twitched down at the corner in annoyance. The door locked with a tiny click. Mihawk kept his gaze on Zoro for any indication that he may have heard. There was none.

"So," the shichibukai said quietly as his student rose. "Why is it so necessary you know where my room is?"

Zoro faced his teacher, a somewhat stern look on his face. "In case you abandon me in the middle of a lesson again. That way I can make you honor your promise."

Mihawk cocked an eyebrow. Perhaps there was hope. "And just how would you plan on forcing me to do anything?"

The younger pirate had a quick answer. "You're honorable. All I'd have to do is remind you of our agreement."

"You forget I'm also a pirate. I'm not that honorable."

"You're a swordsman first."

Something snapped in Mihawk. He loomed over his student, stepping forward quietly but with the aura of a wolf. He advanced slowly, his eyes in full command of Zoro's. The younger man could not retreat if he wanted. Yoru pressed into his back, cold and harsh.

"You overestimate me, Roronoa."

Before he could stop himself, Mihawk swooped in and snatched his student's mouth, catching him by surprise. The younger man did not struggle out of shock, confusion, and worry that repelling the shichibukai would anger him. To the elder, the reality was greater than any dream. Metallic, salty musk filled his nose and heat invited him closer. He wanted more, wanted a reaction.

With little resistance, Mihawk flicked Zoro's lips apart, his tongue delving inside. It was an exotic flavor, one he found he liked. Arms pushed against his chest and he resisted. The younger pirate's head jerked back, smacking into the wall. Mihawk flinched like he had been injured, breaking the kiss.

"Are you all right?" he asked, worry flashing across his face.

Zoro eyed him. "The hell was that?"

"Would you rather I not have used my tongue?"

"No! Why'd you?" he gestured violently, at a loss for words.

"You wanted to come into my personal chambers, asked to touch my weapon, flattered me, and threatened to force me to teach you, and you reject me?" The shichibukai barked indignantly, "Anyone could tell you that's an advance."

"No it wasn't. It was curiosity." Zoro scowled. "I didn't even know you were gay."

"I'm not."

They stood in tense silence, barely a foot of space between them. Zoro did not dare move despite Yoru biting into his back. Finally, he found his voice.

"This isn't why you agreed to teach me, is it? 'Cause I'm not interested."

Those words punched Mihawk in the gut. He could feel himself trembling. His eyes narrowed and his mouth dropped. "Don't ever insult me like that again." Mihawk took a step back, leaving a clear path between Zoro and the door. The young man looked from his teacher to the door, wondering what the trick was. Mihawk was silent.

Zoro approached the door without hindrance and again glanced at Mihawk. His face seemed to have leveled again, but something seemed off about his eyes. They didn't pierce like they normally did. However, his curiosity was far outweighed by how shaken up he was, and he tried the door. It refused to open.

"Oh," he mumbled, his fingers falling from the handle.

Silence descended again. Zoro stared into space, ignoring Mihawk's eyes on him. His mind jumbled, trying to find any hints and coming up with none. Neither man moved. They stood, divided in their joint prison. Somewhere in the distance, the sky complained like it often did. It was ignored. Finally, the shichibukai sat, leaning the bulk of his weight on his elbows and knees. The bed frame grumbled softly.

"Do you plan on staying?" Mihawk asked quietly, his voice hollow. He eyed the ground.

"Why would I leave?"

"You will not be staying for free any longer."


Golden eyes looked up, trying to catch their target. It took a moment, but they succeeded. "You really don't realize what you've been doing to me the past few months, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Not even after I kissed you?"

"Honestly? No." Zoro turned to better face his teacher. "I just figured you were frustrated with me. That's not why you've been avoiding me?"

"It isn't." Mihawk found himself struggling with his words. Anything that came to mind seemed crude or wrong. Finally, he settled on something simple. "I might be in love with you."

"Might? Fuck, you have me locked in here because you might love me?"

"Would it make you more comfortable if my feelings were unambiguous?"

"Not really." Zoro thought a moment. "You're really not gay?"

"No, I've only ever been with women."

They remained still a moment, neither willing to look the other in the eye. In the distance, thunder crackled.

"So..." Zoro started, trailing off a bit before thinking of his question. "How long?"

"How long have I been attracted to you? A little while after you arrived here, I believe."

"Ah. Well." His confidence was returning. "I'm not interested. Let me out."

Mihawk looked up at his student, a longing look in his eye. For a while, neither man moved, and in the silence the shichibukai struggled for words that refused to come. He rose quietly and produced the small key. Zoro moved stiffly out of the way as the older pirate unlocked the door and stood back. By the way he walked, it was obvious the younger man could not be away fast enough. Mihawk gently shut the door and locked it.

Perona woke long after dawn. Her demeanor was cheery, and there was an obvious lightness to her step. The smile on her face was filled with malice, and her eyes twinkled in a sly fashion. She hummed quietly under her breath as she skipped toward the dining hall, her arms swinging jovially.

Yesterday had been kind to her.

The fight she started with Mihawk had been terrifying—for a moment, Perona worried for her life. It was worth it, though. For the rest of the day, she was left alone, free to meander, relax, and spy as she pleased. The only thing she could think of to make her life perfect would be someone to share her gossip with. After all, nothing was more interesting than a little bit of blackmail material.

For the first time in months, Perona was back in her element. It felt invigorating to have eyes everywhere, keeping silent, vigilant guard.

Although she was a little worried that she revealed herself a little too much to Mihawk, she ignored it. Today was going to be a good day. She would make sure of it.

Before her, the doors to the dining hall were flung wide, and in their wake she practically bounced into the room. Neither of the men were there, which dampened her mood only slightly. There would be time to revel in her work later. Bounding down the stairs, she figured a simple breakfast was best. Within minutes, she mounted the steps again, a lopsided sandwich on her plate. As she settled in to eat, the doors opened again.

Zoro did not even look at the table as he entered and spent an extended period in the kitchen before reemerging. He looked tired around the eyes but seemed to move with his normal swagger. With a clatter, he set his plate at his normal spot and sat.

"It's make-your-own today," Perona said brightly, gesturing with her half-eaten sandwich.

Zoro gave her a flat look. "Noticed," he grumbled, starting in on his own ill-conceived sandwich.

They sat in silence, their faces two opposite extremes. The swordsman hunched over his plate like a wolf protecting its kill. He ate slowly, going through the motions. Beside him, the princess was ready to burst from excitement, a young hummingbird ready to fly. Between each bite she gazed expectantly at the door.

Long after Perona was done, Mihawk entered. Like Zoro, he ignored the table altogether and descended without a word. To Perona, he looked a little paler than normal. She and Zoro watched the darkened stairwell intently, waiting in silence for the shichibukai to return.

Mihawk's footsteps preceded him, few and far between as they were. He held nothing in his hands. His face seemed mountainous. Deliberately, he approached the table. What little light there was caught him in the face as he stood opposite of his student. Perona was glad she'd spent his wrath yesterday.

"Roronoa, I need to speak with you." Mihawk looked to Perona. "In private." The princess nearly sprung out of her seat and sauntered around the table, passing close behind the elder swordsman. Like a viper, his hand shot out and bit into her upper arm. He spoke softly. "When I leave this room, you had best be in your quarters."

With a huff, Perona yanked her arm free and continued out the door. Despite her dour countenance, her whole frame rocked in a spirited way. As she left the dining hall, a ghost stayed behind. It slunk in through the floor, easing forward until it hid under the long table. The princess retreated to her room as she eavesdropped on the man who confined her there.

"So you're just not going to give me a choice in the matter." Zoro sounded skeptical, indignant.

"No, I'm not. You'll come to me when I call, or you—and that other pest—are to leave immediately."

"Kinda underhanded, isn't it?"

"You mistake me for a saint, Roronoa."

"I thought you were a sword master."

The room was silent a moment. Mihawk's voice seemed a little less steady. "I am also a pirate."

"So am I," Zoro barked, "Doesn't mean I blackmail my shipmates into sleeping with me."

"You should have thought of that before you begged me to teach you. Nothing comes for free, Roronoa, especially not my time."

"Yeah, 'cause I totally expected you to jump me like that."

"If you were in that situation with anyone else, you'd be far worse off." The shichibukai took a step toward the table. The specter beneath it inched away from him.

"With anyone else, I could fight back."

"Like I held you at swordpoint."

"Kinda did." With a screech, Zoro's chair jumped back. He strode from the table, his footsteps beating into the floor. The door grumbled open.

"Roronoa." By the door, the younger man stopped, facing the hall. Mihawk turned to face his student's back. "I will see you after dinner. Until then, carry on with your exercises as normal. You are dismissed."

With a resonating boom, the door shut. For a moment, Mihawk was still. The hidden ghost eased into the floor to return to its mistress. As it slunk from the room, the swordsman muttered, "If she's not in that room, we'll see how well she swims."

AN: I'm proud to say I could get this out in a timely fashion! Thanks as always go to my lovely beta Rhov for all her help. She really helped me get my thoughts in order as to how the next couple of chapters are going to go, and hopefully that'll encourage me to continue these more timely releases.

Recently, I've been playing the One Piece:Unlimited World Red for 3DS (partly why this wasn't out as quickly as it could have been), and I've found it to be quite entertaining. I don't quite know how the PS3 version holds up, but if you're looking for a purchase to validate spending over $100 on a 3DS, it's not too bad. You should be caught up with the manga/anime, though, or not care about spoilers. (I recommend using a combo of Chopper/Sanji/Usopp for story mode, and Chopper/Ace for coliseum mode. Healers be OP in that game.)

As I Am,

Lady Spritzy