As Mihawk in One Piece

Perona twirled her parasol with theatrical exasperation. "Heehee! Seriously, Korran, you could at least pretend to have some taste!" she snapped, her tone teetering between mockery and indignation. "This ship is an insult to everything cute and cheerful!"

Korran, busy wrapping a fresh bandage around his harpoon's handle, snorted without looking up. "Princess, if you wanna paint flowers on the hull, knock yourself out. Just don't cry when the Captain tosses you overboard."

"Heehee! He'd never do that!" Perona shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. "He knows I'm indispensable! My ghosts are way more useful than your oversized toothpick!"

Kiku, who had drifted closer to the railing near Mihawk, burst into laughter, her voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a ray of sunlight. "You two never quit, do you?" She turned to Mihawk, a mischievous grin on her lips. "Say, Captain, how do you put up with them? I'd have lost my mind already."

Mihawk didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed locked on the horizon, but a slight furrow in his brow hinted at deep thought. "They talk a lot," he said finally, his voice low. "But they can be useful… sometimes."

Kiku chuckled, resting a hand on her sword's hilt. "Sometimes, huh? That's high praise coming from you."

Mihawk's yellow eyes shifted slowly to Kiku, a glint of approval in them. "You'll have time to get to know them."

Perona, annoyed at being ignored, floated toward them, grumbling. "Heehee! You're all serious while this hull's so gloomy it could make a zombie cry! Mihawk, you could at least—"

She cut off mid-sentence. Mihawk had raised a hand, his fingers brushing Yoru's hilt. A brutal silence fell over the deck.

"Hawkeye?" Kiku whispered.

In the sky, clouds tore apart—not by wind, but as if sucked by an unseen force. The air thrummed, heavy and oppressive. The ship groaned, its prow dipping suddenly, as if drawn toward the abyss.

"What the…?!" Korran drove his harpoon into the deck to keep from falling, its bandages whipping in the now-raging wind.

Above them, a dark silhouette stood out against the purplish sky. A man descended slowly, not falling but walking on air, his bamboo cane tapping the invisible with a calm rhythm. His pristine white Marine admiral's coat, emblazoned with justice, billowed. Eyes closed, a sad smile on his lips.

"Fujitora…" Mihawk growled, his voice deeper than the crashing waves.

Perona backed away, pale. "One of the new Admirals?! Heehee… no way, this close to Sabaody!" Her parasol trembled.

Korran yanked his harpoon free, muscles taut like crossbow strings. "We makin' a run for it, Captain?"

The Admiral landed soundlessly on the prow, ten paces from Mihawk. The gravitational pressure vanished abruptly, kicking up a spray of mist.

"Dracule Mihawk," Fujitora greeted, his voice laced with deceptive courtesy. "Fate's thread is thin to cross your path at sea."

Mihawk didn't move. "Fate has nothing to do with it. You're here to stop me from anchoring at Sabaody."

Fujitora tilted his head. "Straightforward. I respect that. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki… sees your presence as a provocation. Dissolved Warlords should keep a low profile." A faint crease crossed his blind brow. "But I'm not here for the Marshal's whims. I'm here to prevent needless bloodshed."

Kiku let out a sharp laugh, slicing through the tension. "An Admiral playing peacemaker? The world's upside down!"

Fujitora turned his face toward her, as if he could see. "Peace comes at a cost, young lady. Sometimes, it's as simple as one ship turning back." His voice carried deep weariness.

"Heehee!" Perona, regaining her nerve, floated higher. "Hear that, Mihawk? He wants us to turn around! Like we'd listen to some old geezer!" She jabbed a finger at Fujitora. "How about you let us pass? My ghosts could put you to sleep for good!"

Fujitora's smile turned almost fatherly. "The Ghost Princess… your reputation precedes you. But nightmares don't faze a man who can't see."

Korran spat over the side. "Too much talk." He raised his harpoon, its sharp tips glinting. "Captain, orders?"

Mihawk raised a single finger. Korran froze instantly, growling but obeying. Mihawk's eyes bored into Fujitora.

"You're alone, Admiral. Sakazuki disrespects you, sending you as cannon fodder."

Fujitora shook his head gently. "Disrespect, Mihawk… it's a double-edged blade. I chose to come alone. Saving lives… that's my priority." He drove his cane into the deck. A sinister crack ran through the hull. "I'll ask once more. Change your course."

The air crackled with tension. Mihawk unfastened his cloak. The black fabric fell heavily to the deck, revealing Yoru in all its menacing glory, its cross-shaped hilt more threatening than ever.

"You speak of sparing lives," Mihawk murmured, stepping forward. "But it's your sailors' lives you're sparing. Not mine."

He drew his sword.

No sound, no gust of wind. Only the hiss of a black blade slicing the space between the two titans. Yoru flashed, silent and deadly, a streak of ebony aimed at Fujitora's heart.

The Admiral didn't move.

CLANG!

A deafening clash rocked the ship. Fujitora's bamboo cane, wielded with startling speed, blocked Yoru a hair's breadth from his chest. Purple sparks erupted at the impact, and visible shockwaves tore through the air, shaking the surrounding sea.

"Heehi—" Perona's laugh choked in her throat.

Korran paled. "He… blocked it?"

Kiku, her grin frozen, clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened. "So this is the power of a Marine Admiral…"

Fujitora kept smiling, but sweat beaded on his temple. "The world's greatest swordsman… your reputation isn't overstated." His cane trembled under Yoru's titanic pressure.

Mihawk, unfazed, pressed harder. His arms didn't shake.

Behind them, the horizon warped. The ocean surged into a mountain of water, drawn by Fujitora's gravitational power. A fine rain began to fall.

"However," Fujitora growled, his voice losing its softness for the first time, heavy with crushing authority, "you're not facing a mere swordsman!"

TO BE CONTINUED...

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