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I Promise You!	By : Serenalee Category: +M to R > One Piece Views: 2442 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece and I do not profit in any way from this.

Chapter List
- 1-I Promise You!
- 2-Chapter 2: Bonds of the Past
- 1
- 2
This story will contain sexual content, it may not be in all chapters but the lables are there for the upcoming chapters. Please let me know what you think!!!
I Promise You
Chapter 1: Darkest Night
“Take me with you!”
Head bowed and pressed to the wooden floor below him. His fingers clenched placing his fists on either side of his face.
Deep bellowing laughter followed from the tall man in front of him echoing throughout the tavern.
“The sea is no place for a kid.”
His voice was gruff as he took a seat in front of the red haired boy. A heavy sigh followed as he ran his fingers through his choppy black hair only to replace the straw hat on his head once more.
“Shanks how many times are you going to ask?”
The ruby haired boy remained quiet eyes squinting out of frustration.
“As many as it takes… I’m not a kid anymore. I want… need this chance… I promised ‘him’ I … we…”
Shanks’ voice trailed off before finding his resolve and speaking again.
“I want to become stronger… I won’t get in the way!”
Meeting nothing but silence Shanks was beginning to feel a bit desperate. He had been waiting for an opportunity to go out to sea, to get away from this forsaken place since that night. It had been nearly a year since they took him away. They promised that no matter what it took they would find each other again in the new world.
Shanks had sworn he would never let anyone take him, or hurt him again… yet he was powerless to do anything that night.
That night, he vowed to become stronger, stronger than any enemy he would face. He wanted to be able to protect him, to be able to stand tall, unafraid to lose anything again.
Joining the Roger Pirates’ would help him achieve his goal. The rumor was that this man “Roger” would one day become the King of the Pirates, to be the first to conquer the grand line.
Shanks felt his heart suddenly stop and skip a beat, eyes wide, as they snapped open. The soft crinkling of straw resonated in his ears as his hair was softly pushed down. His silver eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he looked up.
Roger grinned from ear to ear, his arms resting on the top of his thighs looking down at the adolescent in front of him.
“A promise you make is a promise you should keep”
After a brief pause and a genuine smile he continued.
“We leave at sunrise tomorrow morning.”
His soft laughter followed as he turned, shouting an order for a round of drinks for his crew, welcoming his new apprentice.
Shanks tightly shut his eyes, dispelling his tears he pulled the straw hat down on his head shading his eyes for a brief moment before grinning up at the man he would come to call his father. He laughed and jumped around before thanking Roger.
“I’ll be right back!!”
Shanks ran from the tavern and down to the beach where their little cove was hidden, tucked away by the camouflage of moss and vines. This is where they would spend most of their days, after getting chased out of the house by an angry Garp.
His eyes ran over all of the little trinkets they had found and made. A small sad smile curved hid lips as his gaze fell on the soft cotton covered hay in the corner. He could still feel his touch, the warmth of his skin against his.
He ran his fingers through his ruby hair holding tightly on the back of his neck. With a heavy sigh he closed his eyes.
How long had it been since he had last seen his face? Almost a year?
They came in the middle of the storm that night stealing him away to a life worse than hell.
And all for what? Pride? To prove that no matter where you run or hide that no one can escape the government? No, it was to make sure that they could use him as their own.
To make sure what was prophesized would never come to light.
Shanks shook the dark thoughts from his mind and focused on what he had come to get.
There was only one thing he needed to take with him, only one thing that mattered. Shanks reached out and delicately grasped the cross strung on a black twisted cord. He would return this to him… it was the only memento he had of him.
Holding it close to his heart, Shanks closed his eyes and breathed silently in through his nose. He would find him no matter what. Thoughtfully he wrapped the cord around his neck before tucking it inside the collar of his white shirt.
Shanks gazed longingly at the room silently realizing thing would never be the same.
“Mihawk…”
His name was barely a whisper on his lips, he closed his eyes for just a brief moment and with a sigh he looked over his shoulder turning quickly on his heels, left their childhood hideout for the last time.
Shanks walked along the beach looking out at the vast ocean remembering just how they had met each other. It was just by chance he was adventuring to that desolate island that day. His nose was pointed to the sky. A grin finally claimed his features.
This would be his first real adventure, with new friends, the beginnings of a new family and most of all this was his first step to fulfilling his promise. He would find him of that he was certain. Shanks also knew Mihawk would be trying to get back to him just the same.
Although Shanks was just beginning his journey the dark haired teen stared towards the wooden floor with a blank expression. With any subtle movement he made he was again reminded of his position. The jingling of the metal cuffs echoed against the sturdy walls.
Both his hands and feet were bound the cold steel biting into his skin. Simply readjusting would cause the metal to chafe against his raw skin leaving even more small cuts.
He knew that this would not last forever. He would not abandon him, whether it took a month or a year, Shanks would come for him. They would find each other again, just like they promised. He would do everything he could to get back to him first. It was just matter of time. He would not be broken so easily.
Molten amber eyes closed, wrapping his arms around his knees he leaned his head back against the wall. Droplets of rain began to fall and with every drop it struck every memory of that fateful night…
It would be the night that would change the course of his live forever.
*Flash Back*
Somehow he knew this night would be different… it would be the turning point of his life.
That night had been unusually dark and only the clouds seemed to be outlined in crimson. The only light were the strikes of lighting illuminating the sky, leaving destruction in its wake. Like that of a vengeful spirit, it left nothing unharmed, everything the light touched… was destroyed.
Mihawk was on the verge of adolescence when the incident occurred.
He had never been one to show his emotions freely. At the time, there were only two things he focused on- sword practice and his horse, Raiden.
As the sun began to fall, he and his father finished their final bow placing their swords back in the barn.
“You have gotten much better Dracule.”
He smiled with pride at his only son ruffling his midnight hair.
Mihawk managed a small smile as a light blush tinted his cheeks. He had been practicing for as long as he could remember. His father had always told him he had been born with a special gift. Some called it the bird’s eye.
He had the ability to see more than just his opponent. He could see the entire field that he was fighting in. He could automatically tell how his opponent would move, what their next stance would be and where he should strike.
“Hawkeye it’s about time we head back for dinner.”
That was the nickname his father had given him.
With a small nod they headed back towards the small ranch style home.
It was just before night fall a tall stocky man had appeared at their door, without so much as a warning he barged into their home.
Both Mihawk and his father took in the person standing in their living room. It was dimly lit with only a few lights on.
Wearing a pinstriped suit he strode right through, his cocky attitude was repulsively overwhelming. Mihawk narrowed his eyes looking up at the man who just intruded his home.
“What business do you have here…?”
His eyes were scrutinizing his every move, voice monotone and serious.
The man only smirked down at him. His devil like eyes shined with greed.
Golden eyes narrowed following this strangers every move. Only when he heard his father’s voice did he break his eye contact.
“Dracule… go to your room…”
Hesitant at first, Mihawk looked from his father to the stranger and back again. There was something wrong… something off. Even his father had an uneasy presence. Reluctantly he nodded to his father disappearing down the hall and into his room.
Even as young as he was, he was not so naive to not notice the tension rising in the room. Placing his palm on the door to his room he stilled listening for just a moment before entering.
Usually he would have no interest in such matters. Something just did not sit right with him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on edge. A surge of adrenaline was making his heart race and his fingers tremble.
Closing his eyes, he forced his body to relax, if just for the moment. Taking in his surroundings his heart jumped, skipping a beat.
Neglecting to switch the light on in his room he slowly walked to the sole window in his room. Lifting a slender hand he reached out gingerly placing it down on the glass. It was cool to the touch and the warmth of his body made an outline of fog instantly.
With a curious gaze he felt his body start to tense, the tips of his fingers starting to tremble. Without warning the most intense lighting strike he had ever witnessed struck just outside of his window.
That’s when he saw it… a group of men… it must have been at least 15 men or so waiting outside. Eyes wide he had only a moment to turn around before his door flew wide open.
The roar of thunder and lightning had overwhelmed his senses blinding him momentarily. He had not noticed the yelling and tumbling of furniture a few rooms over. Only when the lighting struck did he see the silhouette of the cocky bastard from before standing in his doorway.
The air was heavy with a sickening metallic scent, and there was a second dripping sound different from that of the rain outside.
“The Celestial Dragons would like to extend an invitation to you. Hawkeye”
His laughter was sinister, borderline insane.
“I refuse…”
Mihawk stated voice steady and absolute.
“Oh ho! I think we have a stubborn one here! I’m afraid you can’t reject this offer boy. You see you don't have a choice. No one says 'No' to the 20 kings of the world government!”
Throwing a body across the room Mihawk struggled to see what lay in front of him.
As the storm illuminated his room one last time Mihawk fell to the floor… hand clutching his chest tears inadvertently streamed from his eyes. His father lay lifeless just a few feet away.
He reached his hands out afraid to touch him, afraid that this was real. His skin was still warm but he wasn’t sure of his condition.
Adrenaline surged into his system, his fight or flight response began to war within him. Feeling trapped like an animal in his room, he would have to fight… there was nowhere to run.
He needed to protect them. On reflex he reached for his favorite sword he kept stowed by the base of his bed.
“You?! Challenging me?!”
The voice was laughing at him with disbelief.
Mihawk remained silent and stood his ground placing his right leg back taking on a fighting stance.
Thunderous steps shook the very foundation drawing closer, attempting to cut off his escape route. Light reflected off his golden hawk like eyes, honing in on his targets hands and feet.
Willing his humming bird heart to steady and the tension eased out of his body, just like he had trained to do. He looked for any subtle twitch of his muscles that would give away his position.
The footsteps subsided and the dark laughter was back.
“I don't have time to play, it's time you learn to submit boy!”
Without warning a Mihawk felt himself being knocked back the fabric of his shirt tacked to the wall by a metal object. A thin line of blood seeped through his shirt and began to drip and fall down his arm.
He cringed biting down on his lower lip the gash on his arm opening wider when he tried to move. With a single movement of his right arm he sliced through the fabric freeing his self.
With his weight evenly distributed on the balls of his feet, he chambered through his fighting stance and lunged forward. He had never been in real combat before, but training with his father everyday more than prepared his skills.
His sword cut through the air towards his target over and over again only to meet nothing. With one last thrust he felt the blade of his sword slice through clothing and flesh.
“You damn brat…”
The man growled out lunging forward grabbing him by the neck lifting him off the ground. Mihawk had sliced through the outside of his thigh. Yet it didn't even seem to phase him.
“You will pay for that!”
As the pressure increased Mihawk felt his sword slip from his fingers as he reached up desperately tearing at the hands squeezing the life out of him. The edges of his vision started to fade, attempting to gasp for much needed air.
The next thing he knew he bounced off the wooden floor landing on his hands and knees coughing and gagging.
“RUN! Get out of here NOW! Don't look back, I will stall them for as long as I can!”
Mihawk’s eye snapped up, his father had picked up his sword and had pierced the man in his side. Hesitating he met his father’s gaze, and with a tear filled expression sprinted from the room down the hall and through their back door towards the stables.
His head was reeling with all of his unanswered questions. Why had this happened? Where was he supposed to go now? What did they want with him?
As silently as he could he snuck in the barn finding his horse in middle stall. He was a tall midnight Arabian.
“Raiden…”
Mihawk ran his fingertip from the base of his muzzle to the soft mane between his ears. With ease he set him up with only the bridal. He would be faster with less weight and it was only a matter of time before the men waiting outside would realize something had gone wrong.
He quickly escorted Raiden from his stall and peeked out of the barn doors… Cursing under his breath he noticed the commotion in the house had only intensified as a window shattered. The rain had slowly been increasing and it was down pouring.
Struggling to place both hands on Raiden’s back Mihawk winced temporarily grabbing his shoulder. He had been cut deeper than he thought. Fresh red blood gushed from the wound. Gritting his teeth he forced his palms down and lifted himself and swung his leg over onto the horses back.
Once mounted he ripped the remnants of his shirt from his torso and tightly tied it around his injured arm using his teeth and free hand to tighten the knot.
Not wasting another moment, he spurred Raiden with his heels using his legs to hold on tightly as they pushed open the wooden doors taking off in a gallop into the water logged earth. The closest town was at least a day’s ride away.
He had no idea if anyone would even be willing to help him; after all he was running from the government. He had to try, what other option did he have?
Having only been there once before, he decided to ride to the coast and follow that up to the ship ports to avoid getting lost. It would make his journey just a bit longer but he wasn’t sure if he could navigate the tangled mess the forest presented in front of him.
As they ran the rain felt like beestings constantly striking his skin. The branches and foliage all around him scraped at his skin causing small lesions that stung and throbbed. Clenching his teeth, tightening his grip on the reins he did everything he could to keep the pain at bay.
Keeping his head down and his body tucked, he did all he could to hold on.
It felt like an eternity passed, the rain began to lighten and the thunder and lightning had subsided. He felt like he was in a nightmare. The pain his body felt was a harsh reminder of reality.
They had run clear through the night. Raiden’s labored breathing began to slow as they came to a stop. It was just about sunrise when they reached the edge of the forest revealing the vast blue sea.
“We made it…”
Closing his eyes he listened. Tension left his body, feeling the remnants of adrenaline fade, his body started to shutdown.
With any movement a pained moan was pulled from his lungs. Barely able to keep himself upright he nudged Raiden down the hill to where the sun was beginning to shine. He was soaked and chilled to the bone. Cuts and bruises were beginning to show their ugly faces on his skin.
His injured left arm was all but numb due to the cold and probably from the loss of blood. It would needed to be tended to and soon.
Like a new born giraffe he hobbled off Raiden’s back stumbling and falling to his hands and knees in the soft, warm sand. Wetness stung the corner of his eyes. Everything had happened so fast. One moment he was in the comfort of his home like any other day. The next, he was ripped from his home, alone and injured with no idea where to go.
His consciousness began to fade. His exhaustion coupled with his injuries and sleep deprivation was taking a toll on his body as well as his mental state. His body was begging desperately to give up, to stop moving and give it some relief.
Cringing in pain he pulled himself up with what little strength he had left and made his way towards the water. As agonizing as it would be, the salt water would at least clean and dry out the gash on his arm allowing it a chance to start healing.
Wearing nothing but his tattered shorts he waded into the cold water and took a sharp intake of breath.
The salty water stung all of the tiny scrapes on his body. The small waves of low tide lapped up against his waist. Standing still he tended to the cloth on his arm. Carefully untying the bloody rag he tossed it aside.
The gash seemed to have gotten worse with all of the riding reopening it little by little each time. Even barely moving a small stream of fresh red blood ran down his arm dripping into the clear water.
One last thing, this was all he had to do… then he could rest… he just had to endure this.
Steadying his nerves he shook his head, smoothing back the strands of onyx hair he submerged himself under water. He instantly saw stars behind his eyes. He forced himself to gently scrub the dried blood from the wound before resurfacing.
All but crawling back to shore he managed to make it to the base of the grassy hill just past the short beach. He collapse face toward the sky and injured arm favored across his chest.
His breathing began to even out and the darkness finally claimed his consciousness.
That’s how Shanks found him.
Feet kicked up on the bow of the tiny sail boat, crimson hair shimmering in the sunlight, arms tucked behind his head with a content smile on his face; Shanks did not have a care in the world.
After the storm the night before the sky could not have been more beautiful. It was a clear brilliant blue, mirroring the ocean below it. A crisp breeze combed through his hair taking in a deep breath, not a cloud to be seen and the warmth of the sun filled him with simple happiness.
Every now and then Shanks would take his own mini adventures. There were many small islands that dotted the expanse of sea from the main island. Some were inhabited while others were just small overgrown woods.
Not yet old enough to embark on his own journey he took to exploring these small islands. Yet he was never in a hurry, he enjoyed taking his time searching for any small piece of treasure he could take back to add to his collection.
Shanks was always smiling, enjoying his life and everything it had to offer.
However, he had no idea that on this day, a certain event would take place forever changing his life. Whether it was a blessing or a curse was in the eye of the beholder, but Shanks would’ve had it no other way.
Fingertips gently combed through his hair resting his palm on his forehead completely at ease. He allowed the waves to guide his course that day. His ears perked up at some distressed sounds in the distance.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he sat up taking in his surroundings. He was near one of the smaller islands, one he had not been to before from the looks of it. That’s when he spotted it.
There was just a lone black horse pacing and circling the same path on a nearby beach. The horse was magnificent and completely out of place. Despite being fairly muddy, it looked strong and well taken care of.
Shanks’ eye followed his movements. There was something off… where was the horse's rider? While wild horses weren’t uncommon, this one obviously had a rider with it at some point. It wore a simple leather bridal with its reins hanging down, almost touching the sand.
Ears and eyes perking up like a cat; his curiosity got the better of him and was already paddling towards the shore.
Sandaled feet splashed in the shallow water as he beached the small boat. Silver eyes scanned the area, no one was around. He carefully made his way to the horse observing him from afar at first. It didn’t seem injured, only frightened.
Silver eyes met the hue of a royal amethyst and locked together. Standing still Shanks extended his arm and offered his palm.
The horse whinnied softly and took just a few wary steps towards him. Without any warning he stomped on the ground just a few feet away from him. Shanks took a few steps back giving it some space, showing he meant no harm. The horse turned his head behind him and then back to Shanks breathing heavily. With a bit of hesitation Shanks felt the soft muzzle of the horse meet his palm.
With a huge grin Shanks moved closer slowly stroking the soft fur of the horse's face. His smile was short lived, falling to a worried expression he whispered under his breath.
“What happened? Where is your rider…?”
The question was more to his self but that was all the horse needed before nudging him and trotting away. Shanks tilted his head following nonetheless.
Without warning it took off into a slow canter down the beach. It wasn’t long before Shanks noticed what he was being lead toward.
What looked to be a younger boy, probably just a year or so his junior was lying lifeless on the grass a few meters away from the beach.
Shanks stopped in his tracks eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. Covered in blood, caked with mud and sand and curled into himself clutching his hands to his chest.
Choppy onyx hair was pushed back from his face, but his eyes were squinted and brows were furrowed in discomfort. His bare chest heaved with labored breathing. He looked like he was in substantial pain. His legs tightened, the tatters of his black shorts were still soaked soaking the ground with sea water and blood.
Shanks ran over to him, his normally joyful face turned serious as he knelt by the boy’s side. Reaching out his hand attempting to assess just how badly he was injured he felt the boy move and moaned, sucking air in through clenched teeth.
“Try not to move…”
Shanks’ voice was soft and he laid his hand on the boys searing forehead. His cheeks were drained and his lips were a sickly pale color. He was barely moving but he was trembling slightly, the cold ground and wet clothes sapping away his body heat.
He needed help… and quickly. The boy opened one of his golden eyes just slightly. Vision was blurred but he caught the image of the red haired boy at his side with a worried expression.
Even if he wanted to protest he couldn’t. He could barely breathe let alone speak. Every bruise and cut on his body ached and throbbed with every heart beat. He had no idea who he was… was he after him? Was he going to help him?
At this point he had no strength left to protest, he was completely at this strangers mercy.
Shanks looked over his form and his eyes fell to the injured arm. It was an angry shade of red and started to look infected. He knew that he shouldn’t move him in the condition he was in, but he didn’t have a choice. If he was going to survive he would need to take him to get medical attention at home.
“I’m going to get you out of here…”
Standing he ran back to his small boat pulling it down the shore to make the transfer as short as possible. With a resolved look Shanks hooked one arm behind his knees and other on his back fully supporting him.
As he was lifted a pained gasp wretched itself from Mihawk’s mouth.
Shanks winced and whispered a quiet apology lifting them both onto the horses back.
“Just … try to relax… You will be safe soon… I promise.”
Cradling him against his chest he took just a moment to take in his features. Pale skin, beautiful onyx colored hair. His face looked so serious but gentle. His physique was toned and slender even for someone of his age.
The hand of his uninjured arm was tightly clutching a cross shaped necklace that hung from his neck. In truth he felt the urge to just pull him closer into his embrace, to protect him and take away his pain.
It was an odd urge for him to have, never experiencing anything quite like it before Shanks allowed his eyes to linger for only a moment longer.
Shanks settled the boy in the bow of the boat laying him on the small tarp trying to keep him as comfortable as possible in their situation.
With a sad look Shanks walked back to the horse removing the bridle. There would be no way to transport such a large animal with his small boat. Stroking the solid muscles of the horse’s neck he smiled.
“I promise, I will do everything I can to help him.”
With a knowing gaze the horse bowed its head nudging his shoulder. Running back to the boat he shoved off releasing the small sail hoping for a strong breeze to take them back to the main island.
Just before dusk Shanks burst into the small 2 bedroom house being met with a single set of wide eyes.
“What happened?!”
Garp’s voice was deep and shocked.
The red haired boy he had taken into his care stood in his doorway, completely out of breath, carrying another boy in his arms.
“You have to help him Gramps…”
Shanks trembled, feeling his legs slowly giving way he held on tighter refusing to collapse. His head hung low, lungs about to collapse; he had done everything he could to get there as fast as possible.
“I’m not sure… but he’ll die if we don’t do anything! Please!”
His voice was desperate.
Garp eyed the dark hair boy suspiciously but nodded. He opened the door to the first room signaling for Shanks to place him on the futon in the corner. With the last bit of energy he walked past Garp doing as he was told.
Gingerly Shanks laid him down on the bed allowing his fingertips to linger for just a brief moment on his flushed face. With the sudden loss of contact he felt helpless.
Garp placed his hand on his shoulder and all but pushed Shanks to the side barking out instructions one after the other.
“Don’t just stand there and stare! Make yourself useful and bring me clean towels, some warm water, and bandages.”
Shanks stumbled back slightly. Gathering his bearings, he ran from the room and returned a few minutes later with everything.
Sitting down at the foot of the bed he watched Garp work looking for any way to help. He watched him skillfully clean and wrap the wound on his arm. He had gone through 2 different sets of bandages to fully clean and disinfect the gash. This needed to happen before he could stitch it and close it completely.
In order to check him over and get him into clean dry clothes he started to remove the boy’s tattered shorts but stopped. Sighing he looked over at the red haired boy watching with a scrutinizing stare.
“Get some rest… Stay in my room tonight.”
Shanks looked up with those sad big round eyes attempting to protest. Even after Garp glared at him and told him to leave for a second time Shanks didn’t budge. With an irritated expression Shanks was all but thrown from the room landing face first on the floor.
The door was slammed shut behind him. Shanks pouted, and took to sitting outside the door and waited.
The time seemed to drag on and he could do nothing about it, nothing but wait patiently. An anxious expression settled in on his features. After everything that boy went thought would he really be alright?
Shanks pulled his knees up, his forearms resting on them allowing his head to fall forward. Exhaustion eventually got the better of him and darkness claimed his mind.

The sound of birds chirping began to stir his dreary mind. He was… comfortable? His head rest on something soft and a blanket was draped around his bare body.
Mihawk slowly opened his eyes. He still felt tired but he was not in pain… had everything been a dream? Could he have really dreamt that sickening nightmare?
Lying on his back he slowly tried to roll to his side but was stopped short when a cutting pain shot through his injured arm. Sucking air through his teeth he clenched his jaw refusing to cry out. He stopped moving and just lay on his back.
After a few minutes the pain began to ebb to a dull ache. His golden eyes scanned the room. It was small and sparse with just a desk and the bed he was laying on among a few trinkets here and there.
Moving his feet he felt weight at the end of the bed. Curiously he tugged at the edge of the blanket feeling something else on it. He used his good arm to lift himself up into a sitting position. Folded arms cradled his head of crimson red hair; the strands seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. It was the same as the day before.
His breathing was heavy and even, indicating he was still in deep sleep. Tentatively reaching out, Mihawk touched the silky strands of hair earning him a soft sigh. Pulling his hand back on reflex he watched his eyes twitch before lazily opening.
Shanks slowly lifted his head the haze of sleep still clouding his mind. Lifting his gaze their eyes met instantly. Silver and gold, complemented each other perfectly neither able to look away.
Mihawk’s golden eyes were filled with curiosity and unease with a deep scar of despair. The silver or Shanks’ sparkled with adventure, passion and determination. Completely opposite of one another they seemed to complete each other perfectly.
A small smile spread across Shanks’ face as Mihawk glanced away shyly.
“Feelin’ better?”
Mihawk nodded just slightly nervously reaching up to his chest. Eyes huge, he grabbed at his chest. It wasn’t there.
“My cross…”
His voice was nothing but a whisper as he looked up at Shanks with a horrified expression. He watched as Shanks reached into his own shirt and pulled out the rather large wooden cross strung on a black cord.
“Is this what you were looking for? We had to take it off to treat your wounds.”
Shanks held his hand out still laying half on the bed. He watched Mihawk look from him to his hand a few times before picking it up. Their fingertips just barely brushed against one another. A peculiar electrical current ran through his body confusing him even more.
From the look in the boy’s eyes he had felt it too. They looked at each other, both confused by the sudden onset of emotions.
“Why…?”
Mihawk looked up at him innocently.
“Why did you help me?”
Shanks blinked giving him a confused look before laughing.
“Why wouldn’t I…?”
It was Mihawk’s turn to return the confused stare.
“Don’t you want to know what happened?”
Shanks sighed, stretched out his arms and stood up smiling as he looked out the window.
“Nope… That’s not important… As long as you are ok that’s all that matters.”
Returning his gaze, Shanks smirked.
“One thing I do want to know… your name.”
Mihawk was taken aback. They were both just kids but it felt like it was an adult conversation. Didn’t he want to know? He could have done something terrible and yet he was respecting his feelings to not talk about it.
He had never met anyone like him before. Anyone else would have been hounding him for answers, to know who he was and why he was alone in the middle of nowhere, or how he ended up in the sorry state he was found in.
“Dracule Mihawk…”
Mihawk stated never breaking eye contact.
“You can call me Shanks”
With that signature grin Shanks headed toward the door, winking he spoke exiting the room.
“You must be hungry, I’ll be right back.”

*End Flashback*

He had always been like that, ever since he met that stubborn boy, always putting others before himself. Ever since that day, they had practically become inseparable. For the 3 years they spent together before… this happened.
Mihawk leaned his head back against the wooden wall temporarily forgetting the pain of the cuffs that bit into his skin.
He would come for him again, of this he was certain. They would find a way back to each other, one day. Until then he would become stronger, someone Shanks could come to depend on, to fight beside.
The tip of his tongue lazily traced the outline of his bottom lip. Just how long could he stand to be away from him? With a dissatisfied groan he attempted to dismiss the unbidden perverted thoughts from his mind.
Reaching for his neck he grasped the white fabric of his shirt and smirked. They would find each other again, it was their promise.
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I Promise You!