Smokeless War - One Piece

(11)

Yoru.

That is the name of the pitch black blade he wielded. And, in a 'professionals only' manner, he intended to train me by directing its fiercely powerful swings my way. Don't try this at home..? Trained personell, yes.

I'm not sure what I expected, knowing now his blunt manner. My muscles still ached tremendously from the prior weeks now of the training, and I still scrubbed and mopped and swept around the huge expanse of the castle before the end of the day. Not to mention the whole other can of worms involved with taking care of other living things, ie. cats and herbs.

"Run with all your might. Take in your surroundings, use them best to your advantage." I looked up from fiddling with my nails, picking at a now bleeding edge, a heavy gaze on my own.

"I give you until noon. Survive."

And with that he only increased my terror, counting down quietly, his voice stilling the life in the forest.

My new found muscles rippled and the ache gradually left them as my stamina had built up considerably. And my breath I tried to best to still but I still found myself huffing after ten minutes of jogging. The fog clouded my vision at times but the scent of petrichor, the forest itself was invigorating.

Finding one of my favorite paths across the river, I jumped nimbly from the mossy stones and kept my eyes forward on the underbrush I hoped to conceal myself in once again.

For the first time since I'd been here, the hair on the back of my neck rose and a shiver went down my spine before I ducked and one of those insane swings missed my neck by seconds.

I didn't dare look back and I ran harder, naturally easing through the forest with the exception being a stone almost tripping me completely. I thought I didn't doubt his might, the weight of his words. But his unrelenting chase of me, his willingness to sever my life so easily struck true fear into my heart.

This is a Warlord.

A branch harshly caught onto my skin, leaving a stinging wound I couldn't attend to and he marched on, not even breaking a sweat. Everytime I set eyes on him was against my will and he still faced me expressionless.

To my knowledge, which isn't much, he was not running nor even running quickly. He just patiently, without slowing followed my every move and knew exactly where I was heading.

The saying, a lamb to the slaughter, suddenly made a lot more sense to me after having a wolf on my tail for so long.

Hours felt like days, and my muscles ached with how long they'd been tense. I lost track of time so easily, and the sky mercilessly gave me no indication of when it was noon. The end of this madness.

I was so numb, looking momentarily at the scratches and bruises I was accumulating turned into a slash I narrowly missed then I realized he hadn't missed at all.

Warmth ran down my leg and I almost cursed him aloud for his cruelty. There was no way I could stop, not when he prowled in the vicinity and I found myself staring him down before pushing harder, harder still through the terrain that suddenly changed.

Now, we are back to the beginning. This, horrible mud-filled swamp. The humidity plastered my hair to the sides of my face, down my arm and most annoyingly to my lips. I could only successfully dislodge the hair tickling my arm and face, the hair attacking my lips gave no avail.

Today had me running in circles in my mind, and perhaps even literally. It felt like I was safe one moment, then in dire need of a hero, someone to save me in the next moment. My breathing deepened and I foolishly struggled to lift my feet only to then eye a tree and climb up it, jumping into the next and the next slippery limb.

As the area changed again I almost let out a sigh of relief before dread sank into my very bones.

The river's rushing scent, its bubbly and dark waters met my eyes as I slid down the tree. My head spun and I scrambled with my gaze anywhere for escape.

With no other options, I followed the river's edge with a jog and the sound of footsteps hadn't met my now sensitive ears yet. Stupidly for a moment as if to cope even just a little, I kept finding herbs I marked down mentally and spots to look for stones.

Then, I stopped. Peacefully I took in the area, not noticing anything alarming for the moment.

Squatting, I picked up a weighty stone and tried to feel for it, his presence. Mustering up the last bit of energy I had left, I threw it easily before throwing another stone across the river. It mockingly landed on the opposing shore, taunting me.

There is was again, maybe a sixth sense. A palpitation jolted my heart again into overdrive and I found myself turning around to meet Mihawk. His very being looming over me so suddenly and silently.

I only saw the handle of Yoru and the blood drained from my face as I backed up, shakily.

Time stilled. Water rushed over the back of my heel as I slipped so dreadfully slowly, almost surely to fall back into the watery depths I wasn't sure he'd save me from anymore. The chilly water sent a cold feeling all over and I felt the air sink in my lungs as if preparing for the feeling. Of drowning.

I refused to close my eyes though, and finally he looked at me. Really looked. Took his gaze from the sky for a moment, before he did something very unexpected to me.

He leaned effortlessly forward, the stone I threw up into the sky and into the forest in hand. Right before he swept an arm into the crook of my back to support all of my body weight that would have sunk me into the rushing water easily.