Mihawk had let you live with him for about a year now, and had even taught you a thing or two...or a thousand about self-defense, and you were finally leaving. He watched as you walked out of the dining room with your bag, your bag back to him. He was reading the newspaper at the table, his legs crossed.

"Take care of yourself," Mihawk said, his eyes lifting from the newspaper momentarily. His stoic and firm personality was hard to live with sometimes but he could nice in a stoic way...