Um, bit of a crackfic here. It's not something I'm too good at, so please tell me if there's anything disastrous.
I felt sorry for Mihawk when I read Zoro and Perona were his "guests" for two years. Not only does his house get invaded, it's his number 1 enemy who does it. I mean, what are the chances?
I meant to make this a drabble for my Confession series, but... who am I trying to kid.
Summary: what happened during the timeskip. My version of it, anyway.
Warnings:OOCness and some swearing.
Disclaimer: One piece not mine.
The best swordsman in the world was brave. He had to be—job requirement—so he was, simple as that.
Yes, the best swordsman in the world was courageous. He was fast as a speck of light. He was strong as a bull. He was graceful as a panther. He was cunning as a snake. He was currently hiding in a closet.
To be fair, Mihawk was thinking of coming out. The roars of 'fight me, Hawk-eye!' had faded, and there was a good chance that his pursuer had gotten lost in the other end of the castle. Mihawk's hand reached towards the door.
"Hawk-chaaan! Where are you, Hawk-chan? Come and play! Hawk-chan!"
His hand beat a quick retreat.
Oh hell, this was ridiculous. He was hiding in his own house, for Kami's sake! He was getting out there right now and sorting everything out. Decisive, he shoved the door open and strode out.
Tried to stride out, anyway.
"Hawk-chan! There you are, Hawk-chan!"
A blur of pink, squeals and more pink tackled him before he could evade it. Mihawk may have had the speed of light, but Perona had the unmatched speed of a woman in the sales (1).
She was something similar to that, in fact, but much worse.
"Oi, Hawk-chan, buy me some cute clothes! My old ones are dirty and I didn't bring any spares! Hawk-chan! Get me some cute plushies so I can make them into my personal cute killer zombie horde! Hawk-chan—"
"Get a boat and do it yourself," Mihawk interrupted. To his credit, the vein in his forehead didn't start throbbing. Not one little bit. "It's not as if I'm stopping you from leaving."
"No, Hawk-chan, you aren't!" Perona acknowledged. Mihawk was sure her voice had gone several octaves above the highest existing note just to hurt his ears.
"I gave you a boat. Three boats, in fact, which you promptly smashed into pieces because—"
"They weren't cute enough, Hawk-chan! I wanna go find Moria-sama, but I can't go in a boat that's not cute! Your boats had black sails and candles and crosses and they weren't cute!"
"They still cost money, though," said the swordsman, to no one in particular.
"I'm trapped in this island, surrounded by sheer un-cuteness! The least you could do is get me a new baby pink skirt and salmon tights and a fuchsia mini-skirt to go with them!"
Mihawk sighed. Inwardly, of course, because evil swordsmen-pirates never did anything as girly as sigh.
At least, he thought, Roronoa wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"WHERE HAVE YOU GONE, HAWK-EYES, YOU—"
He really, really shouldn't have thought that.
He raised his sword absently, stopping Wado Ichimonji an inch from his face, and miserably pondered the mess that his life had become. Mihawk had always been a modest man. He had his routines—breakfast over the newspaper, weekly massacres of innocents, tea at six and a glass of wine before bed—and an orderly life. He wasn't evil, not really, just misunderstood. Sure, he had done some sinning here and there, but nothing too serious—nothing to deserve this… invasion.
"Hawk-eyes! Show me your secret—"
"—get me a pink dresser—"
"—I know there's a technique you're hiding from me—"
"—guess where your favourite hat went—
He tried very hard to keep calm as the Ghost Princess and the demon swordsman buzzed around him like two annoying green-and-pink flies(2). He flicked his sword wearily to stop Zoro from running him through. Honestly. Didn't this kid ever need to eat or take bathroom breaks or…or sleep?
"Horo horo horo! He's already sleeping, Hawk-chan! Look at his eyes!"
Mihawk started. He'd said that out loud? God, he was really losing it. And indeed, when he looked at Zoro, he saw the kid's eyes were firmly closed. Mihawk gave a squeak of incredulous laughter, and immediately tried to pretend he hadn't.
"He's sleeping. The damn brat is sleeping," he muttered, horrified.
No, Zoro probably didn't take bathroom breaks. Mihawk was in his castle with a stalker who thought giving up was something that happened to other people and a girl with a pathological need to end each and every one of her damn sentences with an exclamation mark, and he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon because they had destroyed all of his freaking boats. He was beyond desperate.
"—train train train train—"
"—and a new carnation umbrella with… oh! Hawk-chan? You didn't like that old uncute vase that was standing on a pedestal under a spotlight in the other room, did you?Because Zoro just killed it!"
Mihawk curled up into a little ball and started to cry.
(1)It has been proved, albeit not scientifically, that the average female in the sales season can run faster than light provided they are both running towards an item of clothing that she saw first.
(2)Two flies, that is, with pointy bits and ghost powers.