Son of Man

Chapter One: Abandoned

"Oh, the power to be strong

And the wisdom to be wise

All these things will come to you in time"

Kichirou stumbled backward, trying to keep his footing as the small katana was knocked out of his grip. Unable to keep steady, he fell heavily on his back, clenching his teeth in pain. Glaring up, he stared the green-haired swordsman towered above him straight in the eye, something that many a grown man refused to do. The swordsman looked down at him with disinterest, resting one of his swords on his shoulder.

"Too slow," he growled in his deep baritone voice. Closing his one good eye, he sighed deeply, and as he turned away, Kichirou could have sworn that he seemed disappointed. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Kichirou lay on the ground for some time after the swordsman left, his eyes clenched shut as he fought back tears. He threw one arm over his face, struggling to hold back the sobs that shook his whole frame. Why? Why couldn't he win? He trained every day for hours, but nothing seemed good enough for the green-haired swordsman. For his father. Every day he challenged his father, striving to just glimpse his flawless form. Every day he lost pitifully. And every day his father left with the same disappointed expression after barely using a fraction of his power.

This time, he couldn't hold back the gasping sobs as the tears flowed down his cheeks.

He was so weak.

When Kichirou finally pulled himself to his feet, the sun was setting, painting the sea bright orange and red. Squinting against the light, he looked down at the coastline, searching for the familiar lion's head that he now associated with home. Strangely, the dock appeared empty. The silver-haired boy frowned, raising a hand to shade his eyes as he scanned the horizon nervously. Panic seeped into his mind as he still couldn't find any sign of the ship. Snatching up his katana, he sprinted down to the coastline, praying that he was dreaming.

Staggering down the final steps that led to the sandy beach rimming the coast, Kichirou clutched the railing as he tried to catch his breath. Glancing up with still-teary eyes, he choked back a whine as his fears were realized.

He had been left behind.

"Shit!" he screamed, punching the wall next to him. His fist throbbed from the effort, but he had put a sizeable dent in the wall. Holding his now bleeding fist by his side, he trudged towards the dock, hoping that he would find someone who could tell him what had happened.

He failed to notice the pair of eyes watching him intently. Or the fact that after he had walked away, the wall he had punched in frustration began to crack.

"So you don't know when they left?" Kichirou asked, feeling thoroughly deflated.

"Look, kid. Those people were pirates. You shouldn't associate with such people," the middle-aged fisherman grumbled in his direction. "Good riddance, in my opinion." Kichirou tightened his fists, pinning them to his side so he wouldn't be tempted to throw a punch in the man's direction. Bowing respectfully, he muttered his thanks and trudged off, glaring at the ground. Kicking at a rock, he dwelled on what little information he had found.

Glancing at the almost empty dock, he found his gaze drawn to an eerie raft tied off to the end of the dock. The rickety charcoal craft bobbed in the waves, straining against the rope binding it to the dock. A seedling of an idea sprouted in his minds, claiming his thoughts. Trotting innocently down the dock, he glanced around before peering into the unstable vessel. There was absolutely nothing on board, aside from two large, unlit candles, and it was hardly big enough for one person. Making a face at how hard it must be to sail the black boat, he wondered who would even want to sail the damn thing. Giving one last glance around, he took a running leap, landing heavily on the deck. Staggering forward, he tried to keep his balance as the raft swayed dangerously below him. Edging toward the thick rope that served as the ship's lifeline to the shore, he drew his katana, swiping wildly at it. His blade caught in the coarse fibers, barely cutting the thick rope. Cursing under his breath, he yanked on the katana, willing the blade to free itself from the fibers. A long shadow fell over him suddenly, and he froze, his breath caught in his throat.

"What do you think you're doing?" a smooth, calm voice demanded from behind him. Kichirou swallowed heavily before slowly turning to face the man behind him. His eyes widened as golden eyes gazed down at him with disinterest.

"Did you not hear me, brat?" the pirate growled, a bit of irritation sneaking into his voice. Kichirou stared at the dark-haired man, not comprehending the gravity of the situation. To be completely honest, he had merely been taken aback by the man's completely silent approach. His confidence was slowly returning as he glared back at the pirate. Kichirou ignored the older man's request, instead inspecting the man's clothes. The boy couldn't understand why the man would wear pink, of all colors. True, his long shirt only had pink sleeves, but it was still pink. And it had flower patterns on the sleeves. His black hat helped a wee bit, but the sky blue feather on top made him look like some sort of fruity musketeer. Some people might have thought that the man looked ruggedly attractive, but Kichirou thought he looked stupid.

Making a childish face, he returned his gaze to the man's gold eyes, scowling darkly as he replied, "Yeah, I heard you, asshole. What the hell do you want?"

The man blinked, slightly taken aback by Kichirou's fearlessness. "Do you not know who I am, brat?" He asked calmly. Kichirou glared up at him, frowning as he wondered why he should know this man. Something about him seemed eerily familiar, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

The pirate's gold eyes glared distantly down at Kichirou as he stood taller in a proud stance, the huge sword on his back glistening in the light of the setting sun. "I am Dracule Mihawk," he declared.

Kichirou froze, his blood running cold as he felt the killing intent leaking off the man before him. It was him. The man his father was constantly trying to surpass. He was standing in the presence of the world's greatest swordsman.

And he had just blatantly insulted him. After trying to steal his boat.

Oh god, Kichirou thought. I'm so fucked.

So this is a side story that I came up with. It's supposed to be set a few years after At the Price of Oblivion, and it focuses on Kichirou, Hikari and Zoro's son.

While it's kind of a sequel to AtPoO, you don't actually have to read the story to understand this one. Plus, since I'm not done with it yet, it's kind of impossible to read it before this one...

I came up with the idea after watching a fantastic Dragon Ball Z AMV called Son of Man. It inspired me to write a story about Kichirou's growth as he matures from "boy to man".

Also, PHIL COLLINS. HOLY CRAP, I LOVE THAT MAN.

At any rate, have fun reading the tale of Kichirou. Feel free to comment or ask questions. I'll try to ask them as soon as possible.

(Side note: Kichirou means "Lucky son" in Japanese)

(Side side note: I AM working on AtPoO and Pride and Prejudice and Pirates. I just really wanted to get this started too.)