Chapter 125 (Patreon)

August 12.

The calm before the storm had lasted far longer than anyone expected.

Several months had passed since the Five Kage Summit. The Five Great Shinobi Countries first secured the approval of their respective daimyō, then began stockpiling Military Rations Pills and ninja tools.

They compiled complete rosters of their available shinobi, worked to settle the long-standing grudges between the villages, and eventually held a second meeting of the Five Kage to discuss relocating the jinchūriki of the Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails.

Before anyone realized it, months had gone by.

Now, all five nations had entered a state of high alert.

On the surface, daily life continued as usual, but the scent of war grew stronger with each passing day.

Not long ago, Naruto Uzumaki had secretly been assigned an S-rank mission. A group of Konoha shinobi led by Might Guy escorted him across the sea to the Land of Lightning. Their destination was Genbu, the Island Turtle—a secluded training ground belonging to Kumogakure.

Much like Konoha’s Forest of Death, the enormous island served as a dangerous training ground. However, Genbu was actually a colossal turtle capable of moving freely across the sea, making it the perfect place to conceal the jinchūriki of the Eight-Tails and Nine-Tails from the Akatsuki.

Mihawk had learned a little about the matter from Nara Shikamaru, who occasionally stopped by to visit.

He had no interest in getting involved, however, and simply put it out of his mind.

Since returning from the Five Kage Summit, Nerona Mihawk had spent the past few months living much as he always had, dividing his days between rest and training.

He knew that many events, both large and small, had taken place throughout Konoha and the rest of the shinobi world during that time.

Even so, he chose not to interfere.

He was quietly waiting for the beginning of the Fourth Shinobi World War.

For everyone else, today was merely another ordinary day.

In Mihawk’s eyes, it was no different.

When he woke that morning, he was mildly surprised to find that neither Hinata nor Hanabi was anywhere to be seen.

A hot breakfast had already been prepared for him in the kitchen, however.

After spending nearly ten years together, Hinata knew Mihawk’s daily routine better than anyone.

She could predict almost exactly when he would wake up each morning.

Once he finished breakfast, Mihawk entered the newly built dojo and began his daily training.

He started with a series of exercises that worked every part of his body—push-ups, jumps, pull-ups, and several other drills.

After an hour, once the food in his stomach had been properly digested, Mihawk increased the intensity and moved on to various forms of weighted training.

He had maintained this routine for several years.

Although his physique still could not compare to Rock Lee’s, who had devoted himself almost entirely to taijutsu, Mihawk was already far stronger than most shinobi his age.

However, compared to the monstrous physiques found in the world of One Piece, he still had a long way to go.

If a kunai struck him while he was not protecting himself with Armament Haki, he could still be seriously injured or even killed.

Mihawk sometimes wondered whether being born in this world had placed natural limits on his body, preventing him from developing the same monstrous physique as the people of the One Piece world.

Even so, he had never considered abandoning his daily training.

At ten-thirty in the morning, Mihawk finally brought his training to an end.

Drenched in sweat, he entered the bathroom and soaked in a hot bath. Afterward, he brewed himself a pot of tea and returned to the dojo.

Mihawk sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion as his breathing gradually became slow, deep, and even.

He began matching his breathing to everything around him, establishing a connection with the countless presences filling his surroundings until his own breath seemed to merge with theirs.

An invisible web formed from his perception and swiftly spread throughout the estate before continuing outward in every direction at a steady pace.

Before long, the voices of nearly everything in Konoha surged into Mihawk’s ears like the distant roar of a tsunami.

Had anyone entered the dojo at that moment, they would have felt an overwhelming sharpness emanating from Mihawk’s body. His presence resembled an unsheathed blade, so keen that merely looking directly at him would have made their eyes sting.

It was the presence of a swordsman capable of severing anything before him as long as he held a sword in his hand.

Ten minutes later, Mihawk slowly opened his eyes.

An icy-blue light flashed through his crimson irises.

Dark lines immediately spread across everything within his field of vision.

The floor, the ceiling, the walls, the objects inside the dojo—even the invisible currents flowing through the air possessed lines of death.

Mihawk did not need to move or consciously aim at a particular target. As long as someone placed a small knife in his hand, he could kill anything inside the dojo simply by tracing the appropriate line.

When the Breath of All Things was used together with the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, the number and positions of the lines of death changed with every passing second.

His vision no longer resembled a single, stable image. It had split into countless overlapping fragments, each displaying minute changes occurring throughout the dojo.

Every fragment was incredibly small, and each one trembled as the lines of death continued appearing and disappearing. The overwhelming amount of visual information was enough to produce an intense feeling of nausea.

Mihawk maintained that state for a long time.

Only when his body was drenched in sweat and he could no longer endure the strain did he finally release it.

His eyes returned to their usual crimson color, but the whites were now covered in blood vessels.

A crushing wave of exhaustion struck him, as though he had gone several days without sleep.

Mihawk forced himself to his feet and returned to his room. He did not even have enough strength left to wash the sweat from his body before collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep.

“Mihawk-kun… Mihawk-kun…”

He did not awaken until Hinata’s gentle voice pulled him from his sleep late that evening.

Outside, the sky had already turned as black as ink. With the lights off, the entire room was shrouded in darkness.

Guided by the moonlight streaming through the window, Mihawk saw Hinata leaning over him.

He sat up drowsily, rubbed his eyes, and asked, “Hinata, what time is it?”

Hinata gently straightened the collar of his robe. “It’s almost nine o’clock, Mihawk-kun. You should wash up first…”

“All right.”

Mihawk nodded before asking, “Where’s Hanabi?”

“She went home today. She’ll be back tomorrow…” Hinata replied softly.

Her face had turned red in the darkness, but Mihawk could not see it clearly.

He did not think much of it and gave another slight nod. “Then I’ll go wash up first.”

“Mm.”

Hinata watched him enter the bathroom, her pale eyes filled with concern.

By the time Mihawk emerged, Hinata was no longer in the room.

There was no light shining through the gap beneath the door, which meant that the lights in the living room had also been turned off.

Wondering what she was doing, Mihawk opened the door and stepped outside.

The warm flicker of candlelight immediately entered his vision.

In the middle of the dark living room sat a cake topped with sixteen brightly burning candles.

“Mihawk-kun, happy birthday!”

A pair of slender arms wrapped around Mihawk’s waist from behind, and Hinata’s cheerful voice reached his ears.

The sight before him felt strangely familiar.

Only this time, he was the one standing at the center of it.

Mihawk looked at the cake on the table, and a gentle smile slowly appeared on his face.

“My birthday…” he murmured. “This is the first time anyone has celebrated it.”

Hinata trembled slightly as she held him.

“I’m sorry, Mihawk-kun…” she apologized quietly. “You remember my birthday every year, but I never remembered yours even once.”

“It isn’t because you forgot. I never told you.”

Mihawk turned around and pulled Hinata into his arms.

He gently rested his forehead against hers and gazed into her pale eyes, which were still filled with guilt.

For a moment, memories of Hinata as a child passed through his mind, followed by the image of the shy young girl she had once been. Those memories gradually overlapped with the Hinata standing before him now.

Mihawk’s expression softened.

“Before I realized it, you grew into such a beautiful young woman, Hinata.”

Hinata seemed to understand the feelings behind his words, and her beautiful face immediately turned bright red.

Despite her embarrassment, she did not look away.

Instead, she tightened her arms around Mihawk and buried her face against his chest.

“…Mm,” she answered in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Mihawk gently placed two fingers beneath Hinata’s chin and raised her head.

Then he leaned forward and kissed her.

Hinata stiffened in surprise, but only for a moment. Her pale eyes slowly closed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss.

When they finally separated, her face was completely red.

“You’re supposed to blow out the candles first, Mihawk-kun…” she whispered, hiding her embarrassment against his chest.

“Then help me.”

Hinata smiled and nodded.

Still holding hands, they walked over to the table and stood before the cake. Mihawk closed his eyes for a moment, made a silent wish, and then blew out the sixteen candles together with Hinata.

The living room fell into darkness, but Hinata quickly turned on the lights.

They spent the rest of the evening sitting beside each other, sharing the cake and talking about the years they had spent together. Hinata rested her head on Mihawk’s shoulder while he kept one arm wrapped around her.

Neither of them noticed how quickly the time passed.

Later that night, Hinata lay beside Mihawk on the bed, still wearing her clothes. Their fingers remained intertwined beneath the blanket as she nestled against his chest.

“Mihawk-kun…”

“Hmm?”

“Happy birthday.”

Mihawk looked down at her and gently kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, Hinata.”

They simply remained in each other’s arms until, one after the other, they quietly fell asleep.