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tags: Parent!Mihawk, Cross Guild formation, Cross Guild parents/family, AU
summary: Your dad just came home to tell you that he’s going to be gone for a meeting. But when he comes back, he come with two new friends and they move in too. After all the contracts they signed, you thought you would be doomed, with two other men in your house, old enough to be your dad and yet act like they’re not! The only thing is, Mihawk gave them a condition YOU didn’t know about: treat his daughter well, or it wouldn’t end well for the two men. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
A/N: yes yes, I write notes before AND after! Be mad, don’t care.
This is an AU story of where you are Zoros biological younger sister, and you and your brother (clearly) went different paths. All my regular hcs are here as well (Italian Japanese Crocodile, “nail-tech” attitude Buggy, Peruvian Mihawk).
I’m following Oda’s answer of what nationality the strawhats are, and Zoro is Japanese. So by default, you(reader) are Japanese in this story.
If you’re new here to my page, you should know that I know Japanese (and 3 other languages, but I digress). And if you’re not new, you should know that I hate writing romaji. with a burning passion.
Like I don’t mind reading it, but I’ve been on the internet so much that I can’t stand a “so kawaii” or a “ni-chan”. I hate writing it, and it rubs me weirdly when I read it. There ARE exceptions (e.g words that are originally Japanese but romanized for the English dictionary; kimono, samurai, bushido, katana, etc.)
So, how do we solve this problem? Simple! I tell you here what all the Japanese I use here, and how to pronounce it if you’re like me and like hearing how all the pretty words sound and mean together 😌
Take it as a free lesson fueled by my hate of “oni-chan” (she will never call Zoro this in the series, I swear by it , I would commit 「切腹」[samurai suicide, seppuku] if I do that, EVER. )
めんどくさい (mendokusai)- What a pain, annoying, etc.
ピンク頭 (pinku atama)- pink head
おっさん (ossan)
ピンキ— (pinkī)- pinky
お父さ(otōsa)- cut off version of お父さん(otōsan), which means dad
四皇 (yonkō)- four emperors, yonko (for you NERDS)
This was something I’ve been hinting for a hot minute (if you read part 2 of my doffy series, I wrote about this in very small text at the very bottom) and I took advantage of my long, long flights to plan this, and even the first 24hrs back home to edit this. I have…*checks list* 10?! Oh..
I have 10 other things on the way! (And 7 of those I still need to plan.. ) But no matter! I will have you guys crying, hating me, laughing, hopefully thanking me as well with these nine! I’ll probably tease the list 🙈
But with this long incredulous note, maybe even as long as my hiatus, I’m here to say:
WE ARE SO BACK!
-Alex
“But dad, you JUST got home!” you cried, looking up into his yellow eyes. Ever since the Warlord system was abolished, he’s been out more, taking jobs to match the money he used to make. After your brother Zoro spent two years training here, he finally left, leaving you and Perona in charge of the castle. Mihawk adopted you both after Kuina died, and you've stayed on Kuraigana Island, taking care of the castle and training when he was around.
You never took up sword fighting like he wanted. Instead, you picked up knife fighting—close combat with a switchblade. He praised you when he saw fit, though always with that backhanded touch.
But right now, he was asking you to prepare Yoru and his ship.
“I told you, I'll be back. If it kills you that I’m not around enough, then go find a new father who would take you and Zoro in,” he said, already sipping his wine.
“I never said that you weren’t—UGH! Dad! Fine. I’ll go sharpen Yoru,” you huffed. “Since you treat her better than me…” you muttered under your breath.
“Yet my sword doesn’t whine as much. And you do agree that being used to stab is much worse, ね?” He retorted, not looking up from his glass. “And get the ship ready too.”
“Do I look like a shipwright?”
“No, you look like my daughter.”
“めんどくさい...” you grumbled, walking out of the room.
“Quite indeed.”
Dragging Yoru to the armory, you entertained the idea of stalling—Maybe, just maybe, you’d get to keep your dad at home longer if you stall out your job. Maybe sharpen ALL the swords he leaves in here.
Perona never came near this room, calling weapons "filthy tools made for bloodshed." Her words, not yours. Whatever. She didn’t get it.
This was your space. A second room. Your desk, your old blades, Zoro’s broken swords you swore never to fix (because he had three anyway, why did he need more?). A framed photo of you, Zoro, and Kuina rested among your books and whetstones.
You sat, pulling out a small transponder snail, tuning into Uta's music as you sharpened your switchblade. The motion, the grind, the vibrations through your fingers—this was your peace.
At that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing could ruin this moment. Only unwanted visitors.
But that wouldn’t happen in such a castle, where a “Ghost princess”, a former warlord, and his adopted daughter, Right?
Oh, but it could.
And right on cue—
“I knew you were gonna sulk.”
You didn’t look up. She was hovering, arms crossed, smirk in place.
“Shut up, ピンク頭.”
“Oh? What happened to the ‘Stiletto Master of the Grand Line?’ Or your favorite: Daddy’s little soldier?”
“I said shut up.” The whetstone scraped slower across the blade. “…And I’m not sulking.”
“Right, and I’m not considered the ‘Ghost Princess.’”
Silence. You knew she was right. You were stalling. She knew you needed to crack. And she wasn’t going to stop until you did.
You stayed quiet. It didn’t matter arguing with her. She was right. You were sulking, and to deal with it, you chose to stall the living shit out of your tasks that your dad needed done before leaving. You wanted him to stay. You finished sharpening your personal blade, and moved on to the old, abandoned ones you used before he gave you the one you use. It was a bit pathetic, really. You knew it, and you hated that you were letting her have the satisfaction of being right.
“I guessed it didn’t I? You’re upset that your おっさん is leaving again, aren’t you?”
Instead of stalling, you were going to speed up, so Perona would stop being on your ass about missing your dad. That voice really does work.
But of-fucking-course, you speeding up didn’t. Perona wasn’t the type to leave anyone alone, especially when she could smell a good drama—nothing ever happens in Kuraigana Island other than the occasional Humandrills fighting.
“Fine, fine. Go ahead, speed up. But you can’t run from your feelings forever.” Perona floated around, her grin never fading. “It’s cute, really. You don’t want him to leave, huh? You miss him.”
You clenched your jaw, focusing on the blade. The rhythm, the pull of the whetstone.
“I’m not doing this for him.”
“Then who?”
“I’m doing this so you get off my ass.”
“Right, and those aren’t tear stains.”
You froze. What the hell was she—?
Fingers brushed your cheek. Damp.
Shit.
“W-whatever! I’ll give this to da—I mean, お父さ—I mean Mihawk!”
Face wet, heart heavy, you stormed out. You weren’t strong right now. Not in front of Perona.
Not when everything felt like it was falling apart.
And the one person who could hold it together? He was already halfway out the door.
“Can you at least tell me where you’re going, dad?”
“Out.”
“I see that, but why so often?”
“Business.”
“That’s not an answer. Give me a real answer Mihawk.”
He finally looked up, meeting your glare. Hawk Eyes taught you well. His words were steady, weighty.
“You don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then, Dracule?”
A pause. A sigh.
“Dad.” His voice, low but firm. “You’re my daughter.”
And just like that, the conversation was over.
Days later, Mihawk was gone again. But this time, something was different. When his ship returned, it wasn’t his small coffin boat. It was loud. Gaudy. Familiar.
A clown-faced ship.
“OI! ピンキ—!” You called for Perona, confused.
“Wha—” She groaned but stopped dead when she saw the ship.
“I’ll go out there now.”
“Don’t die, moron! It’s not cute, and I WON'T use you as my puppet!”
You ignored her, blade in hand, running toward the ship.
But then—
Your dad stepped off. Holding the detached, beat-up head of a blue-haired 四皇.
And beside him, another former warlord.
A man with a gold hook.
Your brain struggled to catch up. But three words slipped out before you could even think.
