Final Duel [One Piece]
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing(s): None? Zoro x Sanji nakamaship?
Rating: PG, for the blood
Word count: 1204
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters. One Piece belongs to Oda Eiichiro-sensei. This is a non-profit fanfiction written by a fan, for the enjoyment of other fans.
Warning(s): no spoilers, but character death
For Pennilane, because again, it's (more or less) inspired by her not-topics: sudden deaths unmissed swords random cameos by obsessive second commanders of large pirate fleets... (still failed to include Five Things Ener Didn't Expect to Encounter on the Moon :P ) + the topic, second best (except that this is waaay too long to cut down to 300 words XD )
Warning cont'd: It's another weird one. >_> I like writing weird stuff. >_< You make me write weird stuff. Imagined situation. Unlikely to take place. And I can't write action.
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Zoro didn't have time for horror at the blood that sprayed from the cook's falling body.
His ears caught the whisper of blade slicing swiftly through air and he whirled around, raising his swords, entirely out of reflex. Metal clashed. The crimson that stained the other blade wiped onto his.
Behind him, a thud announced the completion of the fall.
Zoro's heart pounded furiously in his head. All of a sudden, it occurred to Zoro that this was no time for a private duel with Mihawk for the title of greatest swordsman. Around him, his nakama and their allies were fighting the marines and other shichibukai. Cries of battle, declarations of threat, screams of pain tore through the air. Unconscious bodies littered the ground. Thunderclouds loomed overhead, summoned by their navigator. Pillars of fire blazed.
"Stop!" He spoke around the hilt in his mouth as he dodged to the side, and spun around, right foot as pivot. And now he could see Sanji lying on his side, breathing heavily, the hand that pressed over his chest laced with blood; Chopper was right beside him, but too busy fighting off the surrounding marines to tend to his wound. But what unnerved Zoro most was the pale blue eyes just barely visible under the mess of blond locks - they were staring straight at him, as if accusing him for dodging the attack that caused their owner's present state.
"Giving up, young Roronoa?" Mihawk asked, just ever slightly out of breath. The excitement of finally encountering an opponent flashed in his eyes.
Zoro glanced back to Mihawk.
"I won't let you."
With those words, Mihawk launched into another onslaught of attacks.
Zoro blocked and evaded the blows best he could, eyes darting towards Sanji every few seconds, meeting the staring orbs of blue. But finally, he tore his eyes away from Sanji to concentrate fully on the fight at hand. If Mihawk wouldn't stop and Zoro needed to be able to continue fighting to help his nakama, there was only one option - to defeat Mihawk - as quickly as possible. Zoro began to take the offensive.
A smile touched Mihawk's lips as he countered Zoro's attacks. The other was now charging like a furious bull. It made him too easy to read.
Even if each strike was met squarely, Zoro pressed on.
Then.
Suddenly.
In his peripheral vision, Zoro noticed the cook lower his head, face contorted in pain, hand tightening over the fabric bundled in its grasp.
Zoro paused, watched the head lift again, saw a sliver of blue peek at him under the curtain of blond. The momentary gap was all Mihawk needed. Breaking free from the attack range, Mihawk swung his huge blade.
By the time Zoro lifted his head, meeting Mihawk's eyes once more, it was too late, the slash was unavoidable.
Zoro's blood fused with Sanji's on Mihawk's blade.
Zoro found himself hurling through the air on the sheer force of Mihawk's strike. He saw Mihawk's cold golden eyes, unrelenting. He saw a jet of red in front of him. His eyes found the thin figure on the ground once more, but could no longer see any blue. Instead, he saw the hand on the chest fall away, limp.
The ground slammed his breath away, was harder than he would have liked. For a moment, Zoro saw white. In that moment, amidst the white, Zoro also saw blue through blond. Then, the white, blue and blond faded and all that was left was red. He wasn't sure if it was his own blood or the glow of the fires in the skies.
Flexing his fingers, Zoro found one hand empty, barely managed to frown. He sat up, ignoring the excruciating pain now burning in his chest and the wave of giddiness that struck his head, raised his right hand to take Wadou Ichimonji from his mouth. Slowly he got to his feet, shaking his head to chase away the spots of black that appeared behind his eyes.
"A top swordsman shouldn't let anything in his surroundings affect his fight."
Zoro glared at Mihawk, refusing to look in the direction of that fallen figure once more to confirm what he thought he had seen during his fall. Because if really... if that love eyebrows really...
Zoro suddenly felt the need to end this fight. Now.
The dancing black spots behind his eyes were suddenly expanding and multiplying too quickly. Zoro swayed slightly, breathing hard.
And then everything went black.
But Zoro didn't feel the ground rushing up to meet him. He was still standing, still swaying ever slightly. He could hear his breathing, slowly becoming even. His heartbeat was clear in his head, not pounding achingly as before, merely strong and regular. He could no longer hear the battle cries, the threatening declarations, the pained screams. It was as if he was thrown into a world of nothingness. With no light, nor any sound but his own.
Not an entirely unfamiliar situation. He had gone into similar states before, where everything else fell silent and all he heard was breathing - his own and all the living and non-living things that surrounded him.
But this time, he had lost his sight as well.
Zoro suddenly heard a soft hiccup in front of him.
Almost casually, he lifted his sword.
It met something hard and forceful.
A gasp.
Zoro turned his sword, and raised his other hand as well.
Both swords struck metal in quick succession.
It was as if the loss of sight had enhanced his hearing to the point of being able to hear the breathing of air itself, sharpened his reflexes to the extent that time seemed to stretch between his opponent's attacks.
Almost effortlessly, Zoro blocked off all of Mihawk's strikes
Then, the air sighed softly.
Zoro pierced through the sigh with the sword in his right hand.
The end of Wadou Ichimonji didn't meet hard metal, but penetrated soft flesh.
Then suddenly, like a huge wave crashing down upon the rocks, all the sounds returned.
He heard the end of Mihawk's cry.
The black began to fade, rolling out past the edges of his vision.
The first thing he saw was Mihawk's eyes, widened with disbelief and amazement.
He pulled his sword out, watched grimly as Mihawk keeled over.
Finally. He was finally the greatest swordsman in the world, no longer second best. His name would reach the heavens. He had fulfilled his promise to her, won her share as well - it was her sword that had dealt the final strike. He had always imagined that he would feel a powerful surge of victory, of satisfaction, of joy, in the face of attaining his lifelong dream, fulfilling his childhood promise.
Yet, he only felt strangely detached, void of emotion.
His eyes turned upon the battles around him, searched for, found the figure of the cook. He made his way over, leaving a bloody path in his wake; anyone who tried to stop or challenge him fell on either side.
Eyes affixed on the pale face and closed eyes, he lifted the blood-covered hand from the ground, taking it into his own. Sanji was no longer breathing.
Date written: 8 October 2006
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Post-fic A/N:
Hmm... can air breathe? >_>
To clarify in case it wasn't clear, it's a messy battlefield in which Zoro and Mihawk were duelling. Sanji somehow happened to be in the line of damage after Zoro dodged a certain attack from Mihawk and thus suffered the blunt of the attack? Innocent-bystander-accidentally-harmed kind of idea.
Pairing(s): None? Zoro x Sanji nakamaship?
Rating: PG, for the blood
Word count: 1204
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters. One Piece belongs to Oda Eiichiro-sensei. This is a non-profit fanfiction written by a fan, for the enjoyment of other fans.
Warning(s): no spoilers, but character death
For Pennilane, because again, it's (more or less) inspired by her not-topics: sudden deaths unmissed swords random cameos by obsessive second commanders of large pirate fleets... (still failed to include Five Things Ener Didn't Expect to Encounter on the Moon :P ) + the topic, second best (except that this is waaay too long to cut down to 300 words XD )
Warning cont'd: It's another weird one. >_> I like writing weird stuff. >_< You make me write weird stuff. Imagined situation. Unlikely to take place. And I can't write action.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Zoro didn't have time for horror at the blood that sprayed from the cook's falling body.
His ears caught the whisper of blade slicing swiftly through air and he whirled around, raising his swords, entirely out of reflex. Metal clashed. The crimson that stained the other blade wiped onto his.
Behind him, a thud announced the completion of the fall.
Zoro's heart pounded furiously in his head. All of a sudden, it occurred to Zoro that this was no time for a private duel with Mihawk for the title of greatest swordsman. Around him, his nakama and their allies were fighting the marines and other shichibukai. Cries of battle, declarations of threat, screams of pain tore through the air. Unconscious bodies littered the ground. Thunderclouds loomed overhead, summoned by their navigator. Pillars of fire blazed.
"Stop!" He spoke around the hilt in his mouth as he dodged to the side, and spun around, right foot as pivot. And now he could see Sanji lying on his side, breathing heavily, the hand that pressed over his chest laced with blood; Chopper was right beside him, but too busy fighting off the surrounding marines to tend to his wound. But what unnerved Zoro most was the pale blue eyes just barely visible under the mess of blond locks - they were staring straight at him, as if accusing him for dodging the attack that caused their owner's present state.
"Giving up, young Roronoa?" Mihawk asked, just ever slightly out of breath. The excitement of finally encountering an opponent flashed in his eyes.
Zoro glanced back to Mihawk.
"I won't let you."
With those words, Mihawk launched into another onslaught of attacks.
Zoro blocked and evaded the blows best he could, eyes darting towards Sanji every few seconds, meeting the staring orbs of blue. But finally, he tore his eyes away from Sanji to concentrate fully on the fight at hand. If Mihawk wouldn't stop and Zoro needed to be able to continue fighting to help his nakama, there was only one option - to defeat Mihawk - as quickly as possible. Zoro began to take the offensive.
A smile touched Mihawk's lips as he countered Zoro's attacks. The other was now charging like a furious bull. It made him too easy to read.
Even if each strike was met squarely, Zoro pressed on.
Then.
Suddenly.
In his peripheral vision, Zoro noticed the cook lower his head, face contorted in pain, hand tightening over the fabric bundled in its grasp.
Zoro paused, watched the head lift again, saw a sliver of blue peek at him under the curtain of blond. The momentary gap was all Mihawk needed. Breaking free from the attack range, Mihawk swung his huge blade.
By the time Zoro lifted his head, meeting Mihawk's eyes once more, it was too late, the slash was unavoidable.
Zoro's blood fused with Sanji's on Mihawk's blade.
Zoro found himself hurling through the air on the sheer force of Mihawk's strike. He saw Mihawk's cold golden eyes, unrelenting. He saw a jet of red in front of him. His eyes found the thin figure on the ground once more, but could no longer see any blue. Instead, he saw the hand on the chest fall away, limp.
The ground slammed his breath away, was harder than he would have liked. For a moment, Zoro saw white. In that moment, amidst the white, Zoro also saw blue through blond. Then, the white, blue and blond faded and all that was left was red. He wasn't sure if it was his own blood or the glow of the fires in the skies.
Flexing his fingers, Zoro found one hand empty, barely managed to frown. He sat up, ignoring the excruciating pain now burning in his chest and the wave of giddiness that struck his head, raised his right hand to take Wadou Ichimonji from his mouth. Slowly he got to his feet, shaking his head to chase away the spots of black that appeared behind his eyes.
"A top swordsman shouldn't let anything in his surroundings affect his fight."
Zoro glared at Mihawk, refusing to look in the direction of that fallen figure once more to confirm what he thought he had seen during his fall. Because if really... if that love eyebrows really...
Zoro suddenly felt the need to end this fight. Now.
The dancing black spots behind his eyes were suddenly expanding and multiplying too quickly. Zoro swayed slightly, breathing hard.
And then everything went black.
But Zoro didn't feel the ground rushing up to meet him. He was still standing, still swaying ever slightly. He could hear his breathing, slowly becoming even. His heartbeat was clear in his head, not pounding achingly as before, merely strong and regular. He could no longer hear the battle cries, the threatening declarations, the pained screams. It was as if he was thrown into a world of nothingness. With no light, nor any sound but his own.
Not an entirely unfamiliar situation. He had gone into similar states before, where everything else fell silent and all he heard was breathing - his own and all the living and non-living things that surrounded him.
But this time, he had lost his sight as well.
Zoro suddenly heard a soft hiccup in front of him.
Almost casually, he lifted his sword.
It met something hard and forceful.
A gasp.
Zoro turned his sword, and raised his other hand as well.
Both swords struck metal in quick succession.
It was as if the loss of sight had enhanced his hearing to the point of being able to hear the breathing of air itself, sharpened his reflexes to the extent that time seemed to stretch between his opponent's attacks.
Almost effortlessly, Zoro blocked off all of Mihawk's strikes
Then, the air sighed softly.
Zoro pierced through the sigh with the sword in his right hand.
The end of Wadou Ichimonji didn't meet hard metal, but penetrated soft flesh.
Then suddenly, like a huge wave crashing down upon the rocks, all the sounds returned.
He heard the end of Mihawk's cry.
The black began to fade, rolling out past the edges of his vision.
The first thing he saw was Mihawk's eyes, widened with disbelief and amazement.
He pulled his sword out, watched grimly as Mihawk keeled over.
Finally. He was finally the greatest swordsman in the world, no longer second best. His name would reach the heavens. He had fulfilled his promise to her, won her share as well - it was her sword that had dealt the final strike. He had always imagined that he would feel a powerful surge of victory, of satisfaction, of joy, in the face of attaining his lifelong dream, fulfilling his childhood promise.
Yet, he only felt strangely detached, void of emotion.
His eyes turned upon the battles around him, searched for, found the figure of the cook. He made his way over, leaving a bloody path in his wake; anyone who tried to stop or challenge him fell on either side.
Eyes affixed on the pale face and closed eyes, he lifted the blood-covered hand from the ground, taking it into his own. Sanji was no longer breathing.
Date written: 8 October 2006
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Post-fic A/N:
Hmm... can air breathe? >_>
To clarify in case it wasn't clear, it's a messy battlefield in which Zoro and Mihawk were duelling. Sanji somehow happened to be in the line of damage after Zoro dodged a certain attack from Mihawk and thus suffered the blunt of the attack? Innocent-bystander-accidentally-harmed kind of idea.