They moved across the quarry in a blur of steel and gravitational force.
Issho's swordsmanship was calm and controlled, far more dangerous than his gentle manner suggested.
Gravity changed the weight of every exchange: a blade that felt light one instant could become crushingly heavy the next, while sudden shifts in force repeatedly unsettled Zaraki's footing.
Zaraki answered with Nozarashi's destructive power, refusing to accommodate Issho's gravity.
When the ground became too heavy beneath him, he broke it; when a sideways pull caught his body, he turned the acceleration into momentum for his swing.
Each time Issho tried to pin the cleaver down, he drove more Reiatsu through his arms and forced it back up.
Over the following minutes, the quarry became a field of shattered rock.
Ace eventually gave up trying to follow every exchange.
His eyes could catch parts of the fight, and his Observation Haki warned him where the next impact would land, but he could never quite follow the rhythm the two swordsmen had established.
Zaraki finally caught Issho's cane sword against a hooked section of Nozarashi's chipped edge.
Gravity shifted again, making the cleaver so heavy that his feet sank into the rock.
He laughed, released the pressure he had been holding in his shoulders, and twisted hard enough to upset Issho's balance.
Nozarashi swept through and stopped a fraction from Issho's neck.
At the same instant, the point of the cane sword came to rest against Zaraki's abdomen.
Both held still as the quarry fell silent, Zaraki looking down at the blade against him while Issho faced the cleaver at his throat.
Zaraki's laughter broke the quiet, and Issho answered with a soft chuckle as they lowered their weapons.
"That'll do," Zaraki said, resting Nozarashi against his shoulder.
Issho sheathed his cane sword.
"I believe you held the final advantage. Had we continued that exchange, your blade would likely have reached me first." He offered the acknowledgment without resentment.
"You're one of the few people lately who's actually made me work for it." Zaraki grinned at him, and Issho understood the praise for what it was.
...
The quarry looked as though a natural disaster had swept through it.
Deep trenches marked where Issho's gravity had dragged the earth aside, meteor fragments had left impact craters across the ground, and Nozarashi's flying slashes had scored long scars through the surrounding rock.
The nearby city remained intact, which alone justified moving the fight.
Zaraki let Nozarashi return to its sealed form and slid it into its sheath.
Opposite him, Issho was breathing a little more deeply than before but otherwise seemed as composed as ever.
"You went to considerable effort to test me," he said with a faint smile. "I assume satisfying your curiosity was not the only reason."
"No. I told you why I came to Hannabal." Zaraki saw no reason to pretend otherwise as he nodded toward the distant harbor.
"I need people."
"You have a bizarre way of conducting interviews." Ace finally approached from the edge of the battlefield, covered in dust.
Zaraki ignored the comment, but Issho chuckled.
"And what position, exactly, would you have in mind for an old blind gambler?"
"First, I need somebody strong enough that I don't have to worry about them every time the fighting starts." Zaraki looked toward the harbor. "Second, I need people who can actually help run a ship."
Issho tilted his head. "I have crossed quite a few seas in my life. I can steer when necessary, though I would hesitate to call myself a professional helmsman."
"Good enough for now." Zaraki's answer made Ace rub both hands over his face.
"You're hiring people based on 'good enough' for steering and 'can drop meteors' for combat?"
"Seems balanced." Ignoring Ace's objection that this was not what balanced meant, Zaraki turned back to Issho.
"Come to the boat."
When Issho remained quiet, he added, "Hear what I actually intend to do. After that, choose for yourself."
Ace glanced at him, surprised to hear something considerably more reasonable than he had expected.
Issho evidently agreed. "I see no harm in hearing the proposal."
He raised his cane sword horizontally, and gravity shifted beneath their feet.
A circular slab separated cleanly from the quarry floor and rose several meters into the air.
Ace stared at the floating stone. "You could've mentioned you had convenient transportation before we walked all the way out here."
"You did not ask." Issho smiled as Zaraki stepped onto the slab.
Ace followed, muttering, and Issho joined them last before sending the platform toward Hannabal's harbor.
...
After the fight, Zaraki's little sailboat looked even more ridiculous.
It was still tied to the barnacle-covered post where he had left it, with Ace's Striker moored alongside.
Issho stepped carefully onto the deck, the boards creaking beneath his sandals, while Ace looked between him, Zaraki, and the boat.
"This is supposed to carry a future Emperor's crew?" At Zaraki's untroubled confirmation, Ace pointed out that it had only one cabin.
"Then don't stay." Zaraki leaned against the mast as Ace scowled. Issho settled near the railing, quietly listening to the harbor around them.
For the first time since the duel, there was no immediate danger to occupy them, whether from falling meteors or crowds of murderous criminals.
An idea gradually altered Ace's expression, and Zaraki noticed at once.
"What?"
Ace hesitated, looking toward Issho and then back at him.
Zaraki's grin widened as he understood.
"Oh."
"Don't start," Ace warned, narrowing his eyes.
"You want him for Whitebeard."
"Can you blame me?" Ace looked offended, but Zaraki merely pushed away from the mast.
"No. Go ahead." When Ace blinked at him, he gestured toward Issho. "Make your pitch. You think Whitebeard's ship suits him better? Tell him."
Issho turned toward Ace.
He had yet to make his decision, and Zaraki intended to ensure that when he did, there would be no doubt whose choice it was.
...
Ace had expected an argument. Instead, Zaraki had practically handed him the opportunity and stepped aside.
He stood there for several seconds before pride took over, then squared his shoulders toward the patiently waiting swordsman and drew a breath.
"Mr. Issho."
That was certainly better than calling someone he had known for less than an hour "Uncle."
"You probably already know who I am."
"A little," Issho replied with a smile. "Fire Fist Ace has become rather difficult to avoid hearing about."
"Right." Ace scratched his cheek before growing serious. "If you're really considering sailing with somebody, you should hear the other option. The Whitebeard Pirates."
He gestured toward the open sea, and when Issho offered no objection, he continued.
"Pops isn't interested in ruling the world. He doesn't care about becoming Pirate King, hoarding treasure, or building some giant empire just to make everybody bow to him." His voice softened.
"What he wanted was a family."
"Our crew is full of people who didn't have anywhere else to go. Some were criminals, some were already pirates, and some were just people the world had thrown away." Ace pressed a fist to his chest.
"Once you're aboard the Moby Dick, that stops mattering. We're family."
He looked directly at Issho. "If you came with us, Pops would welcome you. I'm not going to invent some ridiculous rank or promise you authority I don't have, but with your strength, nobody aboard that ship would treat you like hired muscle." He smiled. "You'd have a place."
His sincerity made even Zaraki stop smirking for a moment.
Issho listened without interruption, then considered the offer in silence before replying.
"Fire Fist, allow an old man to ask you something." He rested both hands on his cane sword.
"Suppose there were a kingdom drowning in poverty."
Ace's expression shifted as Issho continued.
"Pirates prey on its villages. Its rulers steal what little remains, and the World Government has abandoned the population because the kingdom can no longer pay what is demanded of it. What would you do?"
Ace opened his mouth, paused, and settled on the obvious answer. "Beat the pirates."
"Good." Issho nodded. "And afterward?"
"Get food to the civilians." Ace frowned as he said it, already less certain where the question was leading.
"And when that food is gone?" Issho asked. "If the same corrupt rulers remain, what prevents the next pirates from bribing them? If the people are still helpless, what stops the same suffering from beginning again?"
Ace fell quiet, his frustration showing. Identifying an enemy was something he understood, and he was very good at beating one.
Rebuilding an entire society after the fighting was another matter.
Eventually he looked toward Zaraki, who stood against the mast with his arms folded.
"Your turn."
"Fine." Zaraki sighed and faced Issho. "Kill the pirates exploiting them. If the nobles and king are part of the problem, remove them too."
Ace waited as he continued, "Break whatever chains keep the civilians helpless. Give them weapons, and food if they need time to get back on their feet. Then leave."
Ace blinked, and Issho tilted his head.
Zaraki shrugged at their reactions. "I'm not becoming their king. I'm not spending the rest of my life telling some village how to farm, who to elect, or what laws they're allowed to make. If they want a different country once the people crushing them are gone, they can build it themselves."
"And if they build something terrible?" Issho asked.
"Then that's their choice." Zaraki's golden eyes remained calm. "If they start putting their boots on somebody else's neck and I happen to come back through..." He grinned. "I can always cut down the next bastard too."
Ace stared at him.
The answer was violent, simple, and entirely uninterested in ruling anyone, which made it exactly the sort of thing Zaraki would say.
Yet it wasn't the nihilistic nonsense Ace had expected after the first sentence.
Issho considered it while waves lapped gently against the hull, then smiled and inclined his head.
"A severe answer. But at least you do not claim that destroying one tyrant gives you the right to become the next."
"Sounds exhausting." Zaraki shrugged, drawing a soft laugh from Issho.
"That may be the first time laziness has sounded almost virtuous." Ace groaned and asked him not to encourage Zaraki, but Issho turned toward him with the same faint smile.
"Your offer is a generous one, Fire Fist. And I believe your Whitebeard truly does treasure his family."
Ace straightened, hope rising until Issho added, "However, the road this man intends to walk is considerably less certain."
He faced Zaraki again.
"He has left the Marines without replacing their authority with another master. He has drawn the hostility of the World Government and two Emperors while barely possessing a proper vessel."
"You noticed that too," Ace muttered.
"I cannot predict what his path will become," Issho continued, resting his hand on his cane sword.
"That is precisely why I find myself curious." He bowed toward Zaraki. "If you will have me, Zaraki, I will sail with you."
Zaraki smiled his acceptance. "Good." Beside him, Ace leaned against the railing and looked up at the sky, conceding defeat.
"Completely," Zaraki added.
Ace told him to shut up, which only made him laugh.
Ace looked from Issho to the tiny boat beneath them.
"You recruit a man who can call meteors out of the sky, and this is what you expect him to sail on?" He stamped lightly on a deck board, drawing an ominous creak.
"This thing is going to sink from embarrassment."