The moment Ha Shiro laid eyes on Hawkeye, an invisible weight pressed down on him. Even he—someone who'd faced countless dangers—felt the suffocating pressure radiating from the world's greatest swordsman.
Beside him, Zoro stepped forward, his eyes burning with determination. Without hesitation, he charged at Hawkeye, eager to chase the dream he'd sworn his life to. But the difference in power between them was a chasm too vast to cross. No matter how desperately Zoro swung his blades, not a single strike even grazed the man before him.
Just as Hawkeye raised his sword to deliver what would have been the finishing blow, Ha Shiro suddenly appeared between them.
"Hey, Hawkeye," Ha Shiro said calmly, his tone light, almost teasing. "You've come a long way, haven't you? Why don't you take a seat and relax? I'll even give you a trim."
Hawkeye's golden eyes flicked toward him. "...And who are you?"
"Oh, right—how rude of me. Name's Ha Shiro," he said, brushing a strand of white hair from his face. "I'm a barber. And I was thinking… your hairstyle could use a little maintenance. Don't worry—it's a free cut. Pay only if you're satisfied."
"Long-haired fool, stay out of this," Zoro snapped, panting heavily. "This is my fight. I don't need your help."
Ha Shiro didn't even glance at him. "Go back to the ship," he said, then kicked Zoro backward, sending him tumbling into the water where the Going Merry waited.
Hawkeye tilted his head slightly. "So, he's your crewmate... and you're the captain?"
Ha Shiro laughed. "Nah, the one with the straw hat over there—he's our captain. Says he's going to be the next Pirate King. Heh, crazy dream, right?"
Something in Hawkeye's expression shifted, his aura subtly sharpening. The atmosphere changed. He could tell that Ha Shiro wasn't just another pirate.
"I see. So, you wish to cut my hair... but first, I suppose you'll have to earn the right."
"Well then," Ha Shiro grinned, his tone shifting. "If that's the price, so be it. Hair Armor!"
In an instant, his long white hair grew wildly, wrapping around his body like living steel. Gleaming strands twisted and hardened, forming a shining battle suit that pulsed with energy.
"The power of a Devil Fruit?" Hawkeye mused, his eyes narrowing. "Interesting."
He swung his black blade, Yoru, with effortless grace. The air screamed as a crescent of emerald energy tore toward Ha Shiro.
"Arashi Foot — Hair Blade!"
Ha Shiro met the strike head-on, slicing through the incoming wave with a razor-edged strand of hardened hair. The clash exploded in a shockwave that sent splinters of the wooden deck flying.
"Not bad," Hawkeye said coolly. "Then let's see how you handle this."
He swung again—three times in an instant. Three arcs of sword light roared toward Ha Shiro.
"Dammit, you're serious about this!" Ha Shiro snarled. "Finger Gun — Thousand-Hand Kannon!"
Thousands of needle-like strands of hair shot forward, clashing with the incoming slashes in a dazzling burst of sparks. Even so, Ha Shiro could feel his armor thinning.
Without Armament Haki, my hair's hardness won't hold... one more strike and it'll shatter.
His hair flared behind him, whipping through the air like blades. The speed rivaled even Luffy's Gatling. But Hawkeye deflected every single one with casual ease, his calm precision almost mocking. Broken strands of white hair scattered across the ground like fallen petals.
Damn it... if this keeps up, I'll lose the armor completely. Looks like it's time for that move.
Ha Shiro clenched his fists. "Alright then, if I can take this last blow from you... you'll let me trim your hair. Deal?"
Hawkeye smirked faintly. "You're confident. Very well. Be ready."
He raised Yoru high.
Ha Shiro inhaled sharply. "Red Form—activate!"
In a surge of energy, his white hair ignited into a fiery crimson, surging upward like a living flame. Scarlet armor formed around his body, and his frame expanded until he towered over three meters tall.
"So this is your strongest form?" Hawkeye murmured, intrigued.
"Let's find out," Ha Shiro growled.
With a single swing, Hawkeye unleashed a titanic green slash that split the sea below them. It collided with Ha Shiro's chest armor, slicing through layer after layer of red hair plating. For a few seconds, the two forces struggled—then, with a roar, Ha Shiro pushed back, deflecting the slash into the horizon.
"Hah... still not perfect," Ha Shiro muttered, his armor flickering and vanishing. "Feels like trying to control a half-built Susanoo... I'll need more work."
Panting, he landed on a floating plank, wiping sweat from his brow.
"I acknowledge your strength," Hawkeye said quietly, sheathing his blade. "Join me. I'd like to see what you're capable of... and maybe get that haircut."
Ha Shiro chuckled. "Heh, maybe next time."
He boarded the ship again as the Straw Hats watched in awe.
"Ha Shiro's so strong... right, Zoro?" Luffy grinned.
Zoro clenched his fists. "Yeah. But I'll be the world's greatest swordsman one day... just you watch."
Later, Ha Shiro trimmed Hawkeye's hair with professional precision, his movements calm and elegant. Ten minutes later, he handed Mihawk a mirror.
"Take a look. What do you think?"
Hawkeye's rare smirk said it all.
"First haircut for Hawkeye... stamina gained: 8,999 points," Ha Shiro murmured with satisfaction, collapsing back onto the Merry's deck. "Alright, let's go get Nami back."
The exertion from his battle still weighed heavily on him. As he rested, his mind turned over the fight.
That red-haired form... incomplete. It's all surface, no core. I need to reinforce the structure—bones, muscles, armor... and the Armament Haki won't cover everything. Gotta fix that.
Meanwhile, Luffy was already clashing with Don Krieg, chaos erupting at the sea restaurant. Ha Shiro might've jumped in, but Nami came first.
On her end, Nami had finally returned to her home island. Removing her sleeve, she revealed the tattoo burned into her arm—the mark of Arlong's control.
"...I'm sorry, Ha Shiro," she whispered, patting her cheek as if to wake herself. "Just a little longer... I'll free them all."
Thanks to the money Ha Shiro had handed her from his barber work, she was only one million berries away from buying back her village. Hope gleamed in her eyes.
But fate had other plans.
Ha Shiro, asleep aboard the Merry, was soon "accidentally" captured by Arlong's men and dragged to their base—setting the stage for the next confrontation.
Nami's heart stopped when she saw him.
"Why are you here?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
Arlong sneered. "So this is your friend, Nami? A pirate, just like you?"
Ha Shiro smiled faintly. He already understood Arlong's game—but he wasn't here to break the script. Not yet. He wanted to test something... to see where he truly stood in Nami's heart.
"Nami," he said softly, "finally found you... heh. Sorry if I've caused you trouble. Don't fight it—it was my choice. I just... wanted to see you one more time."
With that, Ha Shiro looked at her tenderly—then fell backward into the pool behind him.
The sea swallowed him instantly. As a Devil Fruit user, the saltwater drained his strength in seconds. He began to sink.
"Ha Shiro!" Nami screamed. Without hesitation, she dove in after him.
Underwater, his vision blurred. Damn... even the water pressure feels heavier here... but the hair's still holding. I can climb up, just need—
A soft, warm pressure touched his lips.
Nami was giving him air.
Ha Shiro's eyes widened for a moment—then, unable to resist the opportunity, he deepened the kiss.
And the story of the Straw Hats' strangest barber continued to unfold...