Contrary to Perona’s wishes, Zolo had joined her scheme to take back the wine from Mihawk. Knowing him, he was probably just looking for another opportunity to challenge Mihawk, but she couldn’t deny that his presence was reassuring.
“I can’t believe you were going to confront Hawk-Eye on your own! You’re fearless, aren’t you?” Zolo muttered, as they climbed the spiral staircase to the top floor of the castle.
“Shut up! Don’t talk about me!” she shot back automatically, before realizing that he was right. What she was doing would probably seem totally reckless to a casual observer. She was picking a fight with Hawk-Eye Mihawk, after all.
When Perona had faced Bartholomew Kuma, another one of the Seven Warlords, she had been so overwhelmed by his presence that she had nearly passed out, foaming at the mouth. But with Mihawk, she didn’t hesitate to go up against him with everything she had. Why was that? Interacting with him every day made her forget that he was a Warlord too.
“He’s in there.” Zolo indicated the door to Mihawk’s bedroom. Then he gave Perona a fierce look. “I’m gonna challenge him to a one-on-one duel. Don’t do anything to screw it up.”
So he really was just looking for a fight after all, she thought.
“That’s fine,” she said aloud. “I don’t care about your stupid duel, anyway. All I care about is that wine!”
Strategy meeting over. Tactic: burst straight into the middle of the room. Zolo faced the bedroom door and swung his leg. Wham! With a single kick, the door flew open. Mihawk was sitting in the armchair in the center of the room, looking poised. He seemed to have been waiting for them to arrive. As a matter of fact, their foolishly loud conversation in the hallway had been perfectly audible to him.
Resting at Mihawk’s side was a small sword, not the huge cruciform blade he normally used. On the table behind him, however, was the wine bottle, as though on display. It seemed to say: “Come and take me, if you can.”
“You’ve gone mad,” Mihawk chuckled, getting to his feet. “I know you haven’t overestimated your power and fooled yourself into thinking you can actually take my head.”
“I’ve already told you,” Zolo responded, “I’m not stupid or arrogant enough to think I can beat you.”
“Then what is your plan?”
“That should be obvious.” Zolo lowered his weight just a fraction of an inch. “To get some practice!”
He took a flying leap and slashed at Mihawk, who pulled up the nearby sword and, without even drawing it, easily blocked Zolo’s blade with the sheath. As the resulting sparks cleared, Zolo was already swinging a second sword diagonally. Mihawk deflected both strikes before finally removing his sword from its sheath.
“Just don’t destroy the furniture,” he said.
“No guarantees!” Zolo grunted, and charged. His expression was set in a do-or-die grimace, but Mihawk’s face was composed, perhaps even pleased.
An exchange of attacks ensued that was so violent it nearly thrashed the room.
“Horo horo horo,” Perona giggled as they fought. “Stupid Hawk-Eye. He’s so distracted, he’ll have no idea…”
She got down on hands and knees, making herself look as small as she could, and moved along the wall toward the bottle. Normally she would never have lowered herself to crawl around on the ground, but at this point, she would do anything to get the better of Mihawk.
Almost there. The table was just ahead. Five yards, four yards, three yards… When she was two yards away from the prize, the smaller blade came flying toward her.
“Aaagh!” She shrieked and jumped. The knife pierced the hem of her dress and stuck into the floor a few millimeters from her knee. She glanced at the two combatants and saw the confident smirk on Mihawk’s face, even as he continued to deflect Zolo’s furious blows.
“You! You knew I was over here?!” She gasped.
“Of course,” Mihawk grinned.
The knife was stuck in deep; no matter how she pulled and tugged, it didn’t budge. She couldn’t move without ripping her dress, but she would rather die than do that.
“Dammit! It won’t come loose!” she fumed.
Meanwhile, Zolo and Mihawk’s duel raged on. A single sword thrust from Zolo scored past Mihawk’s tough defenses, but the older man didn’t lose his poise, rotating his sword and catching both of Zolo’s at the same time. He pushed back hard, catching Zolo off guard and knocking him off his feet.
Mihawk exhaled briefly then. Zolo didn’t catch that moment of vulnerability—but Perona did.
“Take this! Negative Hollows!” The ghosts Perona unleashed swept toward Mihawk, laughing eerily as they went.
“You got sloppy, Hawk-Eye! Now fall to your knees and regret that you were ever born!” Perona crowed.
But her triumph lasted only a second. Zolo bounced back to his feet quicker than she expected, and lunged for Mihawk—right into the path of her ghosts.
“Ah…” She tried to stop them, but it was too late. The Negative Hollows that Perona had unleashed slid right through Zolo’s torso.
“Uuurgh,” he grunted, slumping to his knees. “I’m sorry for walking on the same earth as you. I’m not worthy…”
He leaned forward and pushed his forehead against the ground in despair. As a result, his rear end rose into the air, causing the scabbard attached at his waist to snap upward and strike the standing lamp by the wall. It toppled over and knocked into a nearby bookshelf, sending books tumbling down onto the desk, the vibration of which rocked the wine bottle into an unsteady wobble, then onto its side, where it rolled to the edge of the table, and…
Crash!
“Oops,” they all said in unison.
The final bottle of wine had fallen to the floor and shattered.
✦ ✦ ✦
If there was a silver lining, it was that the bottle had broken in half around the middle, and the bottom still had some liquid left inside. It wasn’t even half of a single glass, but it was enough to convince them to stop their fight and carefully transport the precious portion of liquid to the dining room.
“Roronoa, pour more gently. The more you disturb the wine, the more the aroma will dissipate,” Mihawk instructed.
“Shaddup,” Zolo retorted. “If you got a problem, pour it yourself, Hawk-Eye!”
“Hey, there’s like a millimeter less wine in my glass than yours!” Perona whined.
The three of them continued to bicker and argue while at the same time taking great pains to savor every last drop of the wine.
Zolo carefully tilted the broken bottle, dripping the remaining contents into a pair of shot glasses. Perona watched his handiwork very closely. Mihawk had taken the fruit she’d left sitting out and cut it again into shot glass–size pieces to make instant sangria shots.
“Now it’s gone. This really is the final drop,” Perona said wistfully, then picked up the sangria shot. “Hmmm… I wish I could’ve drunk more of it.”
“How do you think I feel?” Mihawk said bitterly, glaring at her. He picked up the other shot, which was just wine, no fruit. He also poured sparkling water into Zolo’s glass, instructing him to join in their toast.
Perona held up her sangria, allowing the light to pass through it. At the bottom of the beautiful red wine were tiny pieces of fruit cut into perfect squares. She shook the glass, causing the pieces to whirl and dance. She would never, ever have been able to cut fruit into such pristine little shapes.
To Perona, Mihawk and Zolo were just her housemates, coresidents of the castle. They weren’t her companions—absolutely not. But they also weren’t strangers. When one of them was in trouble, they’d help each other out. They’d share a bottle of wine, and they’d work the fields together. In that sense, it wasn’t an entirely empty relationship. Probably not, anyway.
“Cheers!”
Red wine, sangria, and sparkling water. The three glasses clinked over their shared table.
✦ ✦ ✦
There was someone observing the current residents of Muggy Castle desperately scrounging their last sips of wine—from outside the kitchen window, a humandrill looked on at what transpired.
“Oook…”
Once it had observed the three of them toasting their glasses, the humandrill swiftly turned around and returned to its fellows who were waiting in the forest. Every now and then, they went back to check up on Perona and the two men.
“Ook, oo-ook.” (In a quest to obtain the last bit of wine, Perona lured Zolo into fighting with Mihawk. They caused a ruckus in Mihawk’s bedroom, but they’ve all made up now.)
The boss humandrill considered this report and raised an eyebrow.
“Oo-hoo-hook, oo-hoo-hook?” (Has Perona always liked wine that much?)
“Ook. Ook-ook, oo-oo-ook.” (She usually loves cocoa. But she can’t get any cocoa here, so she’s been desperate for something tasty to drink.)
This comment came from a different humandrill and gave the boss pause. It looked even more confused than before.
“Ook, ook, ook…” (But she need only wait a few months and she’ll have plenty of her beloved cocoa. Mihawk is planting cacao trees in the field.)
“Oo-hoo-hook, ooo-oo-hook.” (Actually, it seems that Perona is not aware that he is planting cacao.)
“Ook? Ookook-oo-ook?” (What? Why wouldn’t Mihawk tell her? Didn’t he get it shipped here just for Perona?)
The rest of the humandrills felt sheepish in the piercing, demanding gaze of their boss.
“Ooook…” (We don’t know. He’s a man of few words.)