Reborn as Mihawk's son-one piece

The harbor was unusually still as Ezra, Mihawk, and Selena approached. The faint cries of seagulls and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore were the only sounds that accompanied them. Yet Ezra could feel a distinct tension in the air, as though the island itself was holding its breath.

When they arrived at the cove, the ship came into view. It was a modest merchant vessel, its sails patched but sturdy, its wooden hull weathered by countless journeys. A single figure stood at the prow, scanning the island with keen eyes. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his tanned skin marked by scars that spoke of a hard-lived life. His clothes were practical but well-maintained, and at his side hung a cutlass that gleamed ominously in the sunlight.

The man's gaze locked onto Mihawk as the three of them stepped into view. He raised a hand in greeting, his expression guarded but not hostile.

"Dracule Mihawk," the man called out, his voice carrying easily over the water. "I mean no harm. I'm just a traveler seeking passage through these waters."

Mihawk's golden eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped forward. "Few travelers dare to come this close to Kuraigana Island without a purpose. State yours."

The man hesitated, then descended a rope ladder to a smaller rowboat tethered to the ship. With practiced ease, he began rowing toward the shore. Ezra's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the man draw closer. This was his first time encountering someone from beyond the island—a glimpse of the world he longed to explore.

When the man finally stepped onto the shore, he gave a slight bow, his eyes darting between Mihawk, Selena, and Ezra. "My name is Darion, a merchant by trade. My crew and I were caught in a storm several leagues from here. Our maps were damaged, and our navigator injured. We spotted your island and hoped to resupply and recalibrate before continuing."

Mihawk studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he inclined his head. "You may anchor here for the night. But know this: any act of deception will be met with swift retaliation."

Darion nodded solemnly. "Understood. You have my word."

As Darion's crew anchored the ship and began unloading supplies, Ezra couldn't help but hover nearby, watching with wide eyes. The sailors were a diverse group, each of them with their own unique scars, tattoos, and stories etched into their faces. They moved with efficiency, their camaraderie evident in the way they worked together seamlessly.

"Curious, are you?" Darion's voice startled Ezra. The man had approached quietly, his expression one of amusement.

Ezra straightened, trying to appear composed. "I've never seen a ship like yours before."

Darion chuckled. "Not surprising. This island… it's not exactly on the main trade routes. Tell me, what's your name, boy?"

"Ezra," he replied. "Ezra Dracule."

Darion's eyebrows rose slightly. "Dracule? So you're the son of the great Mihawk."

Ezra bristled slightly at the way Darion said it, as though his identity was tied solely to his father. "And my mother," he added firmly.

Darion inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Of course. Well, Ezra, I imagine this must be quite the sight for someone like you. Have you ever been beyond this island?"

Ezra shook his head. "Not yet. But one day, I will. I'll sail the Grand Line, see everything the world has to offer."

Darion smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Ambitious. Just be careful. The world out there… it's as beautiful as it is dangerous. And not everyone you meet will have good intentions."

Ezra met his gaze steadily. "I'll be ready."

That evening, the sailors built a fire near the harbor, sharing stories and songs as the sun set. Ezra sat with Selena, listening intently as Darion recounted tales of his travels.

"There's an island," Darion said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "where the trees grow so tall, they pierce the clouds. The people there live in treehouses, their lives entwined with the forest. They've mastered the art of crafting weapons from the very wood they live among."

"What about the Red Line?" Ezra asked eagerly. "Have you seen it?"

Darion nodded. "Aye, I've sailed close. It's a sight to behold, a wall of stone that seems to stretch into infinity. Crossing it is no small feat, though. Only the brave or the foolish attempt it."

As the night wore on, Ezra's mind buzzed with the stories he'd heard. He could almost see the towering trees, feel the spray of the ocean against the Red Line. These were the kinds of adventures he craved, the life he wanted to lead.

When the fire began to die down, Mihawk approached Darion. The two men exchanged quiet words, their expressions serious. Ezra couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could tell it was important. After a moment, Mihawk nodded and turned away, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked toward the manor.

Darion approached Ezra and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your father… he's a man of few words, but he's wise. Listen to him, and you'll go far."

Ezra frowned slightly. "What did you talk about?"

Darion smiled faintly. "Just a bit of advice, from one traveler to another. You'll understand when the time comes."

The next morning, the merchant ship set sail, its crew waving goodbye as they disappeared over the horizon. Ezra stood at the shore, the journal Selena had given him clutched in his hands. He'd filled several pages with notes about Darion's stories, sketches of the crew, and questions he wanted to explore.

Mihawk appeared beside him, silent as ever. For a moment, they watched the ship together, the ocean stretching endlessly before them.

"The world is vast," Mihawk said finally. "And you've only seen a fraction of it. But remember, Ezra, strength alone won't carry you far. Knowledge, strategy, and discipline are just as important."

Ezra nodded, determination burning in his chest. "I'll keep learning. I'll be ready when the time comes."

Mihawk's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Good. Now, let's see if your swordsmanship is as sharp as your curiosity."

As they walked back to the clearing, Ezra felt a renewed sense of purpose. The stranger's arrival had given him a glimpse of the world beyond Kuraigana Island, a world filled with danger and wonder in equal measure. He was more determined than ever to be part of it, to carve his own path and make his mark.

For now, though, there was training to be done. And Ezra knew that every swing of his blade, every lesson from his parents, was another step closer to the future he dreamed of.