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the-bar-sinister · 3 months ago

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Crimson Sunset, Azure Dawn (6259 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 2/? Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: shuggy, mishanks, cross guild polycule

Additional Tags: Polyamory, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers, The Cross Guild (One Piece), Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Getting Together, Drama, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Smoking, why is shanks like that, Background Relationships, Rating May Change, POV Third Person Limited, POV Alternating Summary: Red Haired Shanks had wrapped himself in mystery and glory and vanished from the lives of everyone who cared about him, leaving a trail of old flames lost and confused in his wake. Years later, Mihawk would have been content to finally give the duel long owed him. Buggy swore he simply wanted to give him a piece of his mind. Crocodile just wanted the pair to have some measure of closure, difficult as it might be.

No one expected the rising star of the scarlet emperor to crash so suddenly and violently to earth. No one expected to fish a lost and broken Shanks out of the wreckage of his ship.

But maybe it takes disaster for old flames to flicker back to life, and for Cross Guild to bring in its most surprising member.

Prologue & Chapter 1

Note: the prologue of this fic and one scene from the first chapter originally appeared in Deicide: Onigashima Afterparty and can be skipped if you have already read that.

Prologue

The Cross Guild ship sat anchored a few miles off the coast of Wano with the former marine vessel locked in tow for when they departed. It had been a hell of a few days.Crocodile and Mihawk had practically gang pressed him— and the crew— into what he had called a 'recruitment mission', chasing Smoker and his marine boys to the closed island after getting intel that they were there.

It was a crazy move. And crazier still, it had worked. Cross Guild now had a couple of famous marines (and an undercover marine pirate!) and their crew on the roster, a fact which seemed to please Crocodile to no end, and admittedly, probably would further demoralize the navy.

But that wasn't what was on Buggy's mind.

Buggy had gotten a few drinks into himself by the time he’d worked up the nerve to confront Crocodile. He and Drake had celebrated his switching sides the best way they could— by getting drunk and flirting back and forth for a few hours— before Buggy had finally had to excuse himself.

He rolled up his baggy sleeves and took a deep breath before he slammed open the door to the little lounge he knew Croc was skulking around in with as imperious a face as the new Emperor could muster. “Crocodile! I gotta talk to you!”

Crocodile, of course, didn't even lower his cigar. He didn't even answer. He just waved him over. He was sitting in his tall armchair, feet on the table, with a bottle of rye and the morning's newspaper.

Buggy sauntered over with his hands floating off his wrists (and rested against his hips) and a big frown on his face.

“I gotta talk to you, I said!” He leaned in. “About my crew!”

Now Crocodile took the cigar out of his mouth, and breathed smoke in his face. "Alright, clown. I'm listening. What about your crew?"

Buggy breathed it in with a little shiver, before he huffed.

“...you gotta treat my men with a little more respect. Cabaji’s tellin’ me that you’re going around barking orders at him and the rest of my guys.”

Crocodile stared at him for a long moment, and then he patted his lap. "Sit down, Buggy."

Buggy huffed, flushing brightly as he stomped over and dropped neatly into his lap. “I mean it, Croc. They’re my men…they respect me. You can’t just push ‘em around like they were yours.”

Croc's arm slithered around him and his hook dropped across his legs. "Buggy. Sweetheart. I bark orders at everybody. You know this."

Buggy pursed his lips in a frown, looking him in the eyes as he looped an arm around his shoulders. “...I mean, yeah. It’s onna the charming things about you, Croccy. But Cabaji’s gettin’ annoyed.”

Crocodile puffed on his cigar, for a moment, and then pressed it into Buggy's mouth, still damp with his saliva. "That's your swordsman, right? Long dark hair? Bunch of knives?"

Buggy took a puff off it, hanging around his shoulders as he relished the taste. “Yeah, that’s the one. My number one acrobat. A real standout guy. He thinks you’re disrespecting us.”

"Does he now?" Croc snorted, and stroked the curve of his hook over Buggy's thigh. "Alright, Bug. There are two solutions to this. Either one– you stick to me like glue so I can tell you the orders and you bark 'em…"

He left the suggestion hanging for a moment.

Buggy’s leg rubbed against his hook as his torso disconnected to lean into his body. He blushed, huffing softly. “You ain’t the worst company. But go on.”

"Funny you should mention that," Croc chuckled. "Option two is you bring your 'number one acrobat' to bed with us and we sort out questions of respect that way."

WIth that, Buggy went bright red, and his head popped off to turn around and look at Croc with wide and flustered eyes.

Cabaji would be into it, of course.

It’d probably sort it out, one way or another, if he was invited there. It wasn’t as if they weren’t already intimate.

“I’ll think about it,” he said stiffly. “...on that note! I got something I gotta bring up about him.”

Crocodile cackled, and grabbed Buggy's floating head by the pigtail. "Don't fly away on me, clown. What about him? Planning a spring wedding?"

Buggy yelped, and his head fell down against his shoulder again.

“N-no!” he huffed sharply. “I wanna get him a devil fruit! He’s worrying about keeping up with all the freaks in the New World.”

Crocodile twirled his fingers through Buggy's hair for a moment. "Huh, smart man. He doesn't already have one, then? Is he a haki guy, or what?"

“He’s an acrobat. And a damn good one too.” Buggy poked his chest with his floating hand, though…he did nuzzle Crocodile’s hand. “And he’s not a haki master like Mihawk or nothin’.”

Crocodile stared at him, even as he stroked his thumb over Buggy's jaw. "So what, he's just a guy? And he hasn't fucking died yet?"

Everybody from Crocodile's 'crew'-- Baroque Works, what was left of them– had a Devil Fruit. Everybody he associated with had some trick up their sleeve.

Buggy brushed the scruff of his jawline against his fingers with a nod. Cabaji was amazing for having come this far with him— even against all the shit they faced, he was still alive and kickin’.

That had to count for something.

“He’s just that good, Croc. But he wants to be better.”

"You know what? It sounds like he's fucking earned it," Crocodile grumbled. He patted Buggy's face not unfondly, and grinned. "I'll put in a request with Doffy and get him a fruit lined up. And I'm thinking you should bring him to bed whatever else we figure."

Buggy grinned widely at him, his body floating in pieces against the other man.

“Damn right he has! I’ll let him know, Croccy!” He winked. “...about the invitation, too.”

"Good man," Crocodile leered. "I–"

They were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door, at which Crocodile barked, "enter!"

Buggy’s head jerked up, and his body parts rapidly snapped back together as he wriggled on Crocodile’s lap with a grumpy murmur of ‘my respect as a co-leader!’

Crocodile didn't let Buggy up, his hook still firmly over his lap– but it didn't end up mattering anyway, it was just Galdino.

"Sir. Buggy."

"Mr. 3," Crocodile drawled out with the air of an almost affectionate nickname. "What's with the knock?"

"Some uh, interesting news, actually." He glanced back and forth between Buggy and Crocodile in a rather nervous way– despite that, Buggy thought whatever the glance was about, it didn't have anything to do with the compromising position.

“Hey Galdy.” Buggy murmured as he fell back against Crocodile with a sigh. “What’s up?”

"Well…"

"Out with it," Crocodile barked. He grinned wickedly. "Promise I won't shoot the messenger this time."

Galdino gave them a look somewhere between sour and wry. Crocodile's attempt at murder had become a joke somewhere along the way between them.

"It's Red Haired Shanks," Galdino said. "Doflamingo's faction reported in by transponder snail that his ship's been sighted around the other side of Wano."

Buggy’s face blanched underneath his makeup, and his eyes went wide over his smile as his lips closed.

“.....” He gripped Crocodile tighter. “.......Shanks… is in Wano…as we speak???”

Crocodile grimaced and raised his hook. "Is every damned Emperor on the sea in the same hundred mile radius?"

Galdino held his hands up. "Don't ask me, I just took the message. But… it sounds like it's close, anyway. Even with the recent shake up."

"Wonderful." Crocodile grumbled. He squeezed Buggy's arm. "Alright, Galdino. Thank you for the information. Were there any other details?"

"They said it seemed like he was making ready to leave."

Buggy grabbed Crocodile by the lapels, looking at him with wild eyes. “We should intercept him, before the bastard slips away again!”

He knew, distantly, he was being irrational. Something about Shanks always set it off in him. The entire reason he’d gone off at Luffy to begin with was because of that damned straw hat of Shanks’.

Crocodile's hook pierced through Buggy's leg, as his grip tightened on his shoulder. "Are you crazy, clown?"

"I'll just… leave you to it then," Galdino murmured, slipping out the door.

Buggy leaned his face nose to nose with Crocodile.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to give that red haired bastard a piece of my mind? He…he…” his hands shook, “he broke my heart, Croccy!”

Crocodile stared at him with incredulous annoyance that slowly melted away into exhaustion, and maybe a trace of sympathy. He let go of Buggy's shoulder and grabbed the bottle of rye from beside his chair, taking a long pull before putting it to Buggy's lips.

"Yeah. You've mentioned," he grumbled. ".... we're gonna have to go find Mihawk."

Buggy grabbed the bottle, and tilted it back in several long swigs.

“Yeahhh….oh he’s not gonna be happy either, is he?”

"Yeah, he sure fucking ain't." Croc shook his head. "How the hell did I end up with both of Shank's fucking exes?"

Buggy took another long swig of rye before he leaned in to kiss Crocodile’s lips. “I think that says a LOT about you and your taste in men, Croccy.”

Crocodile kissed him back, before grumbling. "Well, I fucking hate that. Alright, let's go find Hawkie and give him the bad news."

Buggy laughed, leaning back enough to look him in the eyes. Despite the big smile on his face, he was reeling.

Shanks. Fucking Shanks. Red Haired Shanks the Emperor…the dopey cabin boy from when he was a wide-eyed idealistic brat himself. A boyfriend, a confidant…at least before he changed.

His fingers tightened on the bottle. He was going to need a lot more to drink if he was going to deal with him today.

On the Rocks

With the aid of his spyglass combined with his observation haki he could keep watch on someone from quite a distance away. Could watch them far before they knew he was there.

Red Haired Shanks stood perched on the rail of his ship, glass in hand, watching the crew of the Thousand Sunny make ready to depart Wano.

Now was the time. After what he'd seen the kid do in the fight against Kaidou— the white haired deity that had flickered to life from his devil fruit's power— now was the time to tell him the truth about the fruit. About his destiny. About what Roger had said.

Now was the time to challenge him, and see what he could really do.

Shanks tried to smile, but something gnawed in the pit of his stomach.

He should be happy.

Everything had been leading to this moment. Everything since those whispered words from his captain long ago. Ever since seven years ago when Luffy had claimed what should have been—

Since Luffy had claimed his destiny.

Shanks should be happy.

Shanks shouted the order to make ready to sail. They'd follow the Sunny at a distance until they were a day out from Wano and then make themselves known.

It was good enough that Luffy would be happy. That so many other people would be happy. He was sure that Roger was smiling somewhere, still.

He had to be sure of it.

Mihawk sat on the deck of the ship, carefully cleaning Yoru with a reverent and practiced hand. Under the broad parasol he’d insisted they install, he watched the sea beyond them as his fingers and his cloth trailed over Yoru’s shining black blade.

“Daz. Do you think the tea is steeped?”

The blood of the marines who hadn’t yielded was still fresh in his mind, the thrill of the short but interesting battle and its resolution of a whole cadre of new crew and executives for their little organization still buzzing distantly behind his sharp and canny eyes.

Cross Guild had devoured two of the Navy’s finest. Welcomed them, and their powerful underlings, into the fold. It was a victory; and now they moved on to the next step in their plan to whittle the Marine’s strength to nothing.

"Should be," Daz nodded as he eyeballed the teacup steeping on the tray.

“Thank you,” he glanced back at him with a subtle smile as he held his blade up to the light. Bergamot tea, steeped strong— he trusted Daz to make it correctly. “What do you think of our new friends, the former Marines.”

Daz was the man that Crocodile had brought from his adventures in Alabasta. Mihawk's own man, Wallace, was with Perona, currently.

"As long as they don't stick a knife in our backs, I think they'll be great." Daz handed him the cup of tea. From the smell of it, he'd gotten it just right.

MIhawk took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance before taking a long sip. Yes, it was perfect. “They seem to have impressed Crocodile…and he is not a man who trusts easy.”

"Sure isn't," Daz agreed. Mihawk knew that he was well aware. Apparently, Daz had been working officially for Sir Crocodile and Rain Dinners for quite some time, while working unofficially for "Mr. Zero" and Baroque Works without knowing that the two were one and the same. And yet, he'd followed him even afterward. Through the depths even of Impel Down.

“He seems to have put quite a bit into that crew— I’m not a trusting man, myself… but if he trusts them I will endeavor to do the same.”

Daz nodded. "Spent some time with a couple of 'em last night. They seem alright. I hope it won't kick the captain in the teeth."

Mihawk looked up at him with a thin smile. “If it does, I’ll simply have to hang their heads from the prow. But let us hope it’s as good as it seems.

He liked Daz. It was a comfort and a relief to know that Crocodile had had someone looking out for him in the years when they couldn’t meet under the watchful eye of the World Government.

Once, and once again in a way, he had been Crocodile’s right hand. His first mate and swordsman. He and Daz were still settling out exactly what that meant for the two of them– Daz having occupied the spot that he had vacated for so long– but it didn't seem to be a real problem.

"If you need a hand with that, let me know."

MIhawk chuckled as he sipped his tea again. “I might need a hand with it, should push come to shove. I–”

"Hawkie!" Crocodile snapped sharply as he stomped up from below deck. He was dragging Buggy with him, a bottle of alcohol in the clown's hands. Mihawk could already tell something was up. He leaned over the back of his chair, teacup by his side and Yoru over his lap. His keen eyes scanned the bottle of alcohol as his lips drew into a tense frown.

“Crocodile. Bad news? Have the marine recruits betrayed us?”

"Nothing as simple as that," Crocodile growled around his cigar. "Got a report, didn't we, Bug?"

Daz shot an apprehensive glance toward Mihawk, clearly picking up on the same 'bad news' feeling that he was.

Buggy slid over grinning a smile that wasn’t at all reassuring as he wiggled the booze bottle his way.

“How about we have a drink, huh? The boys said they saw uh… they saw a ship off the coast of Wano.”

Mihawk raised his eyebrow at him with a low hum. “And…?”

Crocodile put his arm around Mihawk's shoulders. "And it's Shank's ship, Hawkie."

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Red Haired Shanks. The two of them had a long and storied history. Meeting during a grand adventure, becoming rivals— the clash of wills and sword that reverberated around the world— and Shank’s injury bringing with it distance and the World Government’s interference as Mihawk became a proper Warlord of the Sea.

“What brings him to Wano, I wonder.” He stood smoothly up from under Crocodile's arm, and lifted Yoru to place upon his shoulder, glowering at the island in the distance. “...bring us around to him. I’d like a duel.”

"You're kidding me," Crocodile growled. "Now you wanna duel him? Hawk, I brought Buggy over for you to talk some fucking sense into. We can't roll up to Shanks with one god damn ship and a handful of hungover marines!"

“You think he’ll simply kill us then?” Mihawk glanced over his shoulder at Crocodile as Buggy laughed nervously and popped open the bottle to take a long sip.

"Hell if I know! Man was always a wildcard, and look what he did to the two of you! All I hear about is him decimating crews all over the grand line; do you two think he wants to have a fucking nice little duel and a chat?"

Daz quietly walked over and put a hand on Croc's shoulder. "Easy there, captain."

“What if he wants to say he’s sorry to me?” Buggy asked with a sniff as he hugged the bottle to his chest. “He’s got a lot to make up for, that bastard!”

Mihawk huffed sharply, his arms crossed over his chest. “His legend has been growing, but it isn’t as if I have stopped my rise either. If you don’t want to face him, Crocodile…I can go on one of the lifeboats.”

"Like hell you will!" Crocodile barked. "Like hell I'm letting you go off alone."

Daz raised his hand. "If I may?"

Buggy flopped against Crocodile again, his hand detaching and bringing the bottle to Mihawk.

He took it with a nod and had a long swig. “...I’m listening.”

"Why don't we send a messenger and see if he wants to talk and or duel," Daz offered, scratching the back of his head. "It's not like that would be hard to do."

Crocodile grudgingly slipped his arm around Buggy, and did the same once more to Mihawk. He gave each of them a speculative look. "Well? Daz has a point."

Mihawk leaned against him with an affection most never picked up on, huffing a long sigh. “...it’s a good point, Daz. I suppose it would come across as less of an act of war that way.”

Buggy poked his fingers together. “...can I write the letter?”

"Not without a second pair of eyes on it, Bug," Crocodile grumbled. "But with approval– yes."

Buggy looped an arm around him with a wide grin. “I promise Croccy. You’re not gonna regret this!”

Mihawk wasn’t so sure, but as he stared out at Wano with narrowing eyes he knew something for certain.

He rested his shoulder against Crocodile’s, jaw set as he reckoned it.

It was long past due to face the ghosts of the past.

Buggy’s feet were pacing the floor. Back and forth and back and forth as the rest of his body hovered around the cabin while chewing on the ends of his gloves.

They’d done it. The heavily edited letter had been sent to Shanks’ ship— the deed was done and the offer to meet was sent.

He was terrified. He hadn’t spoken to Shanks in years and years; he’d only seen him rarely too, like the time he’d spotted him in Marineford during that massive war.

But Shanks— like he’d always been ever since he left— was far too important to notice Buggy back.

Buggy's brooding thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Captain?"

The voice, and mode of address were immediately familiar.

“Gah!!” Buggy whipped around with a big grin. “Cabaji! My main man! Come in, come in!”

When Cabaji slipped into the room, shutting the door quickly behind him, Buggy could already tell he knew something was up. There would certainly be rumors around the ship already about Shanks being sighted, and Cabaji was one of the few people who'd know that that held a significance for Buggy— even if he didn't know exactly what it was.

Cabaji nodded to him. "I heard a little rumor going around."

“Is it about fucking Red Haired Shanks?” Buggy’s lips twitched. “...because we just sent a letter to him. Mihawk wants to challenge him to a duel, I guess.”

He whistled, giving Buggy a dubious look. "Mihawk's going to duel him? What about you?"

Buggy grimaced. “...I’m gonna give him a damn piece of my mind. Probably from the ship, and through an amplification snail.”

"That's it?" Cabaji looked confused. Maybe it was because of the way Buggy had always talked about Shanks— when he talked about him at all, when he was drunk— like Buggy had been dead set on murdering him to death. "You're sure you don't want to get to him before Mihawk does?"

Buggy grit his teeth, one of his feet kicking a ball off to the side where it ricocheted off the wall.

"It's complicated, Cabaji! I REALLY wanna get down there and show him just how much I’ve grown. I wanna show him the FULL power of Buggy the Clown! But Mihawk’s got his mind set.”

Cabaji put his hands on his hips. "So Hawk and Croc are running roughshod over you again, Captain? What makes Mihawk's grievance more important than yours? Anyway, if Shanks is such a bigshot— shouldn't the two of you put him down together?"

He was losing Cabaji’s faith, he knew it. He half dropped into the sofa of his cabin as his feet ran to catch up, his brow knit.

How the hell was he supposed to explain the complicated bullshit that seemed to inundate his relationship with Shanks? Mihawk was pissed off at Shanks for, admittedly similar reasons, it seemed.

Heartbreak. Heartbreak when someone they were close to started drifting away because of some grand responsibility or power trip. The worst part was Buggy didn’t even know WHAT bug Shanks had gotten up his ass. One day, one conversation with Roger and he was suddenly not the man he’d grown up with.

“It’s not ...they ain’t running roughshod on me, Cabaji! They’re…it’s complicated, dammit! I don’t wanna kill the guy YET. I wanna talk to him first. He’s got some things to answer for and he ain’t answering from the bottom of a grave!”

That seemed to cut through Cabaji's dubious look-– but it was replaced by another, even more conflicted expression. The acrobat leaned in closer to him, until they were shoulder to shoulder. He put his hand on his back. Usually; not always, but usually, Cabaji waited for Buggy to touch him first, like he was waiting for permission.

"Captain, can I— can I ask you a personal question? I've kinda wondered for a long time now…"

Buggy sighed low, under his breath, and looped his arm around Cabaji with a shake of his head. “I think I know what’s comin’...I’m listening.”

Cabaji rubbed his jaw, leaning heavily on his captain. After a moment of silence he finally asked. "Were you and Shanks like… together? Is he an ex?"

“Ghhhhhhhhh.” Buggy’s shoulders sagged under his arms. “Yeah, he’s an ex. He and I …we were real close on Roger’s ship. For a long fuckin’ time too.”

Cabaji wrapped his arm more tightly around him and pulled him closer. "Well shit. No wonder its so fucking complicated. Okay that's… I can see why you maybe wouldn't jump right to killing him. Is Mihawk going to kill him? Do we need to rein that in?"

Buggy groaned. “I’m pretty sure they’re exes too… I think he just wants to beat him to prove he’s stronger or some shit. You know Mihawk…a hell of a guy, but he tends to conflate mortal peril and romance.”

"That… tracks. I mean, he's not wrong about that, " Cabaji murmured. Then he got indignant on Buggy's behalf again. "But hey! Hey, my question stands! Why does he get the first crack at him if he's an ex, too?"

“I mean, probably because he’s got a big fuckoff sword and jumps to use it at a moment's notice!” Buggy threw his hands up. “But you know what? You’re right! I’m gonna take the first crack. Damn the consequences!”

"Hell yes, captain!" Cabaji grinned widely. "You know I'll back you up no matter what."

It was a big offer, when you thought about it. There were worlds of power level between Cabaji and Shanks or Mihawk. But he was still ready to jump into the frey.

“Cabaji…” Buggy grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a half hug. “Dunno what I did to get a guy half as loyal as you. I’m gettin’ you that devil fruit…gonna have Doflamingo hunt for it right away…you really are my best man. ...when we face down Shanks…I know you’re gonna have my back.”

Cabaji squeezed him back, the conflicted and dubious look that had plagued his features since he'd entered gone completely now. "Damn right, Captain. You'll always have me."

Buggy was damn lucky. Damn lucky that the crazy fucking acrobat from the East Blue had followed him all the way into hell.

He wouldn’t have it any other way

It had been almost a full day since their messenger had gone to Shanks, and had yet to return. Mihawk had been practicing with Yoru. His blade sang with each swing, decapitating dummies with ease as he danced around the ship’s deck with his intense and glowering stare.

If Shanks answered— if Shanks wanted that duel he’d long denied the man— then Mihawk was going to ensure he walked away victorious. He almost didn’t notice as Crocodile came out from below deck, his eyes narrowed in on a dummy in a hat.

Crocodile stood and watched for a moment, before he cleared his throat. "We got an answer, Hawk."

Yoru stabbed through the heart of the dummy as Mihawk turned his gaze to Crocodile with a sharp grin across his face. "Has he accepted?"

"You're gonna want to see for yourself." Crocodile smiled back at him, but it was a more careful smile than Mihawk usually saw written on him, as if he was still judging the situation. He held a folded scrap of paper out to him.

Mihawk reached out and grabbed the paper with a thankful nod, before looking it over with his mouth set in a frown.

It’d been so long. The world government and Shanks’ own piratical rise had caused the rift between them— the strange shift in his personality after the loss of his arm had sealed it. He’d forsaken the man as his rival during his spiral into depression and isolation. Part of him hadn't expected anything back at all.

But there was the message, plain as day.

Shanks had accepted the duel.

With a caveat.

"See what I mean?" Crocodile said, puffing on his cigar.

According to Shanks' note he was in the middle of some kind of 'important engagement' and would meet for the duel at Queen Ellery Island after that business was concluded.

"Queen Ellery Island…" Mihawk’s eyes narrowed. "...I know that island. So he wants to duel there in three days, does he? Where might he be heading now?"

Queen Ellery was an autumn isle— like his own home for so long— in the nearby cluster. A dark little metropolis constantly covered in twilit clouds. A haven for crime and vice.

"Good question," Crocodile grumbled. He blew out a long puff of smoke and offered his cigar to Mihawk. "According to our intel, it looks like he might be toward Ellery already. Off in that direction, at least."

MIhawk took his cigar, and took a long intake of smoke to calm himself. Despite the placid expression, some well of emotion was bubbling inside him. Tension…desire…excitement, even distress over the wasted time.

"He used to be my rival."

Crocodile closed the distance between them, looping his good arm around his shoulders, and squeezing him.

"Wasn't even all that long ago, all things considered. I remember you two used to duke it out every time we crossed paths."

Mihawk nodded. "I used to think his blade would remain ever sharp, keen enough to help my rise to even greater heights." He leaned against Crocodile with a frown. "...and then he started to change. I changed too."

Crocodile leaned his cheek on the top of Mihawk's hat. "We all changed, Hawk. Time does that. The shit we all went through does that."

Crocodile had been cut down, his dreams dashed to pieces on the floor against Whitebeard… Mihawk had reeled from the splash damage, his own faith in everything so shaken that he began to turn in on himself.

The World Government had erected walls with their offer of ‘Warlord’--- lines of invisible transgression that pushed him from even his former captain.

It was no surprise those walls drove Shanks further away.

"Life changed, that much is true."

"Derailed all our lives for a long time," Crocodile murmured. "But, me and you, we're getting back at it, right? Maybe the ol' ginger's rethinking things, too."

Mihawk tilted his head. "Do you think so?"

Shanks… Mihawk had seen the road he was headed down ever since their last parting. Ever more the Emperor, ever more closed into himself and his crew as they worked on who knew what strange purpose.

Ever further from them, on some quest only the scion to the Pirate King could understand.

"Who knows?" Crocodile shook his head, and ran his thumb over the edge of Mihawk's jaw. "Maybe we'll find out when you duel him, eh? Get the two of you drunk after, and figure out just what the hell has been going on."

Mihawk nuzzled his hand with a flush. "I’ve been wondering… I’ve been wanting to learn just what mission’s seized him so strongly to the exclusion of all else. It all happened when he returned without his arm."

"I've been wondering that too," Crocodile grumbled. He tugged Mihawk over to the bench in the corner of the room-– away from the destroyed dummies-– and sat them down. "He was always distant, and weird. But kinda fun, yeah? After that he seemed to lose his sense of fun."

MIhawk slid over with him with a low sigh, nodding his head before he sat against Crocodile with a nod.

"Yes. After that, he’d lost his sense of fun, and it seemed….something inside him. His freedom perhaps? His drive?"

"Can't say I'm any better," Crocodile grumbled. "Wonder what it was that finally threw Shanks over the edge though. You ever find out how he lost the arm?"

Mihawk shook his head. "Only that he went back to some island he’d been spending time around, and came back a different man."

"Must be a hell of a story." He shook his head. "I assume you want me to lay a course for Ellery? Or have you decided you'd rather blow him off."

Mihawk smiled grimly. "....Turnabout may be fair play, but I won’t forgive myself for letting this chance slip by. Set the course, darling. He has much to answer for."

"Hey, Bug, guess what?" Crocodile asked, putting his arm around Buggy's shoulders as he snuck up on him from behind. How the hell did a man that big walk so silently?

Buggy jolted, falling against him as his skin prickled in surprise. "Maybe wear a bell, Croccy! You’re gonna give me a heart attack!"

He spun around to look at him. He’d been busy. Very busy.

Very busy pacing around the ship like he was trying to set it on fire with the friction of his feet.

Just like normal. He was fine.

Super fine.

Of course Crocodile just laughed at him, as usual.

"We're meeting Shanks on Queen Ellery. Should be about five days from now."

Buggy’s eyes bugged from his head. "He’s goin’ to Queen Ellery? We’re really gonna go see him??"

"Yep." Crocodile nodded, thumping his hook against the back of Buggy's shoulder. "He agreed to duel Hawk."

Buggy vibrated against him, his eyes going wide. He’d agreed to duel Mihawk…Shanks. Mr. ‘I can’t even bother to notice my ex-boyfriends at Marineford, I’m too big and important and better than you’ Shanks…

Was going to duel Mihawk. In five days. On fucking Queen Ellery.

"Did he say anythin’ about me…?" he asked in a quieter voice than he intended.

"He said he's 'looking forward to a chat', yeah," Crocodile nodded.

"Wait…he really said he was lookin’ forward to it?" Buggy grabbed his shoulders with a wide grin, even as his main body half turned under Crocodile’s arms. "HAH…figured that after years and years of being Buggy-less he’d..he’d miss me!"

Sure. Buggy had been the one who left. He’d been the one who never reached out…

But Shanks had changed.

There was something about him that had shifted after that conversation with Roger. Like all the plans they’d made as kids didn’t matter anymore, and all the dreams they’d bonded over were nothing but something to grow up from.

"You need a drink about it?" Crocodile asked, staring him down as Buggy gripped his shoulders..

"Yeah… I kinda hate how fired and …" (desperate) "--worked up I get about this. You’d think I’d…I dunno…forget. After a while."

"But it still feels like a fresh wound, eh?" Crocodile shook his head. "C'mon, Bug. Let's head back to quarters, I'll get you good and wasted and you can tell me for the 10th time how he broke your heart."

Buggy huffed as he looped his arm around Crocodile.

"sounds like a date, Croccy…" He paused for a moment before he whispered. "You think he’s gonna be happy to see me?"

"Bug, if he makes you and Hawky any more miserable, I'm gonna fucking end him myself," Crocodile growled boldly. "Emperor or fucking not."

Buggy felt himself flush hotly, before he clambered onto Crocodile, arms looped around his shoulders and his body pressed against his back.

"Awww, Croccy you’re too good to us!" He kissed the top of his head. "You’re the best warlord a guy can ask for."

Three days from the message. Three days of increasing restlessness as they ticked down the moments towards their meeting with Red Haired Shanks on Queen Ellery Island. Buggy was practically chewing through his gloves as he watched the distant horizon where the sun was slowly vanishing.

He’d distracted himself. He’d worked out some last minute shit with the boys, worked on routines, calls, everything he had to do for Cross Guild with the fervor of a man trying not to think about something fast approaching.

There was very little to distract him right at the moment. Alone with the sea, the warm ruby glow of the sunset, and his thoughts.

He brushed his long blue hair over his ear with a quiet sigh and an attempt at a smile. He’d lay into him. He’d really tell him how he felt the last handful of years. And then maybe things would work out.

Maybe he’d even say sorry for whatever the hell had changed between them.

He was contemplating all the possibilities when something started to nag at him. The clear water reflecting the ruby sky suddenly wasn't clear, but littered with large chunks of debris.

"Uhhhh…" He half leaned over the bannister of the ship, staring down at the water with a frown. "Guys!? Croc? Mihawk? Cabaji? Anyone?? Looks…looks like there’s some trouble around here. Shanks mighta gone to town on someone."

"Huh? What's up, ca–" Cabaji came running over from across the deck, looking over to see the wreckage too. He whistled. "Damn, that's definitely a whole ship."

As Buggy followed his gaze westward toward the sun on the horizon, he saw the trail of debris become thicker, and a dark plume of smoke cloud the sky. A particularly large piece of hull nagged at the back of his mind.

Did he recognize that ship?

It took a longer moment of squinting at it to realize exactly how he did recognize it

"You’re kiddin’ me…there’s no fuckin’ way." He was breathless. "...that’s Red Haired Shanks’ ship. That bow, that flag…"

"What?" Cabaji sounded completely incredulous. "No way, you're kidding?"

That was when Buggy spotted it.

Some poor soul collapsed crossways over a piece of flotsam hull barely the size of a door.

Buggy hissed through his teeth

"Cabaji! Get the boys who don’t got devil fruits and fish that poor bastard outta the drink!" He leapt up on the bannister, grabbing some rigging to peer down at him. "It might be onna Shanks’ boys. We can hear about what the hell went down from him!"

Cabaji had already started moving before Buggy had finished, grabbing rigging from the deck, and holding onto it as he hurled himself straight into the water, and headed for the unlucky man who'd wound up in the drink.

As his gaze followed the acrobat the man on the wreckage drifted in the tide, bringing him around to a better angle for Buggy to see his bright, red hair.

It was Shanks.

Buggy hissed through his teeth, his eyes wide and panicked as he could only wait for Cabaji to arrive back on deck. He was no use in the sea.

"Shanks…what the hell happened to ya…what did you even need to DO?"

#shuggy #mishanks #cross guild polycule #crocbug #crocobug #crochawk #wanitaka #bughawk #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #one piece #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: one piece deicide

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