The mangrove root path split the grove in two like the spine of some ancient beast.
Below, seawater sloshed quietly between tangled roots. Above, bubbles drifted through shafts of sunlight, their reflections painting shifting colors across the bark and broken railings. The path itself wasn't wide, just wide enough for two swordsmen to pass each other if neither of them valued their limbs.
Giovanni stood at one end of it, saber loose in his hand, chest rising steadily.
Across from him stood Vice Admiral Gion.
She was composed in a way that made the entire battlefield seem to quiet around her. Long dark hair tied back. Golden saber gleaming in her hand. Marine coat fluttering lightly in the breeze coming off the sea roots below. Nothing about her looked hurried, and that somehow made her more dangerous.
Giovanni grinned.
"You know," he said, rolling his shoulder once, "if you wanted some alone time with me, there were easier ways to ask."
Gion's expression didn't change.
"I've met pirates with better lines."
Giovanni placed a hand dramatically against his chest.
"That actually hurt me."
"I don't care."
He laughed.
"Oh, she's cold."
Gion moved.
Her golden blade flashed across the narrow path, aiming for his throat in one clean, elegant stroke.
Giovanni's body tilted away before the slash fully arrived.
The slash missed by a finger's width.
Gion's wrist turned.
Her sword came back in a shorter, tighter cut meant to catch his dodge.
Giovanni bent low, almost folding at the waist, and the blade hissed over his back. He pivoted on one foot, letting the momentum carry him around her flank, and snapped his own saber toward her ribs.
Clang.
Her blade intercepted his.
A burst of pressure ran up Giovanni's arm.
Black Armament Haki coated the edge of Gion's saber.
Giovanni's smile thinned.
'Right. Haki!'
He immediately rolled the contact point off-line, twisting his own saber so the force slid down the flat instead of biting cleanly into the center. Sparks jumped between the blades, and Giovanni let the impact carry him backward rather than stubbornly holding it.
He landed lightly, boots scraping across the bark.
Gion's eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"You're quite the careful one."
Giovanni flicked his wrist once to settle the vibration in his sword arm.
"Is that so."
"Incredible Observation Haki. But lacking Armament Haki. What exactly are your priorities?"
"Cut me some slack. Perhaps you could teach me."
Gion stepped forward.
"I'll break that sword of yours in half."
Her foot hit the ground
Then she vanished.
"Moon Walk."
She stepped into the air itself, a rapid sequence of invisible footholds carrying her upward and around him in a blur. Giovanni's eyes lifted just in time to catch her silhouette above the drifting bubbles.
"Whoa," he muttered. "You can fly. That's cool."
Gion's answer came in the form of a kick.
"Rankyaku."
A compressed blade of air tore downward from her leg.
Giovanni jumped sideways. The Tempest Kick carved through the path where he had stood, slicing a long groove in the mangrove root and blasting splinters into the sea below.
He landed in a crouch and looked up again.
Gion was still in the air, balanced there by rapid Moon Walk steps, coat snapping behind her as if the sky itself were a battlefield she had every right to stand on.
Giovanni whistled softly.
"Okay, that's actually pretty cool."
Another kick.
Another air blade.
Then another.
Three Rankyaku slashes came in a crossing pattern, trying to box him in from multiple angles at once.
Giovanni moved through them by instinct. One step left. Twist. Drop low. Pivot right. The cuts screamed past him, one slicing through a bubble cluster behind him, another carving off the edge of a handrail, the last shearing into the root and sending bark exploding across the path.
He came out of it grinning.
"Did you practice that because you knew I liked stylish women?"
Gion landed lightly.
"No," she said. "You know, you are awfully full of yourself."
Giovanni pointed at himself with his thumb.
"Me? No, i'm just confident."
Gion's mouth twitched. Close to a smile.
Giovanni saw it and pounced immediately.
"Aha! That's the face of a woman falling in love."
Gion cut at him.
He jerked back just in time, the saber tracing a golden line across the front of his coat and shaving away cloth without touching skin.
Giovanni stared down at the sliced coat.
Then looked back up, horrified.
"That coat was expensive!"
"Just buy another one. What, have you not plundered enough to afford a mere coat."
He clicked his tongue.
She rushed again.
This time her style changed. Less broad swordsmanship. More pressure. Her saber came in straight thrusts and short-angle slashes, forcing Giovanni to stay honest and denying him the room to wind up anything flashy. He met each strike with precise deflections, never letting her Haki-coated edge settle into a direct contest.
Their blades rang in quick bursts.
Clang.
Clang-clang.
Clang.
Giovanni's advantage was becoming obvious now. Not in raw force, but in rhythm.
He was reading her.
Not perfectly, but enough.
His Observation Haki kept catching the intention behind her attacks a fraction before the movement completed. Not enough to make him untouchable, but enough to keep him one step ahead of the blade itself.
He slipped past a thrust.
Tilted away from a cut.
Used the back of his saber to guide her edge away from his own.
Gion noticed.
'His Observation is ahead of mine,' she thought. 'And his pure swordsmanship…'
A fast exchange followed.
Giovanni stepped inside her range and snapped a cut for her shoulder. Gion caught it and rolled into a spinning backslash. Giovanni ducked under that, came up on her off-side, and almost got her if not for the sudden crack of her foot against the air—
Moon Walk again.
She kicked off empty sky, rising above him and avoiding the counter by inches. From there she dropped with both hands on her saber, trying to drive straight through him.
Giovanni didn't block.
He slid.
Her blade smashed into the bark path, splitting it open where he had been and sending chunks of mangrove wood tumbling into the channel below.
He reappeared beside her.
"You know," he said, "for someone rejecting me so hard, you keep chasing me."
Gion ripped her blade free in one smooth motion and cut backhanded.
"And yet," she replied, "you're still running."
The point nearly caught his cheek.
Nearly.
Giovanni sprang back and exhaled.
His grin returned.
"Okay. Enough flirting."
Gion's brow rose. "You call this flirting?"
He lowered his stance.
"Oh, no. This is me getting serious."
The breeze shifted.
Bubbles floated between them.
Giovanni's fingers adjusted slightly on the hilt.
Gion sensed the shift too.
Her posture tightened.
Giovanni drew the blade back.
The edge hummed softly.
Then he swung.
"Davy Sword Style: Sea King Slash!"
A broad crescent of compressed force roared out from his saber.
This one had shape to it, heavy and curving, like the bite of something enormous turning beneath the sea.
Gion's eyes widened.
She crossed her saber with both hands and poured Armament Haki into it just as the ranged slash hit.
BOOM.
The impact blasted backward along the narrow path, ripping handrails apart and bursting nearby bubbles in a spray of color and mist. Gion's boots carved long grooves into the bark as she was driven back several meters before finally stopping.
Her coat sleeve had been sliced open.
A thin red line marked her forearm beneath it.
Giovanni straightened, chest rising with the effort, and pointed the saber at her.
"That was not bad right?"
Gion looked down at the cut in her sleeve, then at the line of blood.
Then she looked up at him.
For the first time, there was no teasing edge in her expression.
Only acknowledgment.
"That," she said quietly, "was good."
Giovanni blinked.
Then grinned so hard it almost ruined the moment.
"Compliments already? We're moving fast."
Gion took her stance again.
"Don't misunderstand."
"Too late. I'm misunderstanding beautifully."
---
Limejuice came to a stop on a wider root path overlooking a lower canal. Bubbles bumped lazily against the railings. Somewhere in the distance, the carnival music had been replaced by shouting Marines and breaking wood.
He rolled his shoulders once, staff already in hand.
Behind him, measured steps approached.
Vice Admiral Momonga.
Sword drawn.
Posture rigid.
Serious from the moment he arrived.
Limejuice sighed and turned halfway toward him.
"Before we start," he said, lifting one hand in a calm-out gesture, "let me say again, I am not part of the Red-Haired Pirates."
Momonga didn't slow.
"I don't believe you."
Limejuice frowned.
"You should. It's true."
"You fought beside them."
"Because Marines attacked me."
"You ran with them."
"Because Marines attacked me."
"You are standing here armed and fleeing Marine pursuit."
Limejuice pointed at him with the staff.
"Because. Marines. Attacked. Me."
Momonga's face hardened.
"What I hear," he said, "is a coward willing to lie to save his own skin."
The temperature of the moment changed.
Limejuice stopped moving entirely.
Momonga stepped closer, sword lifting into proper stance.
"A man who would deny his own crew in order to protect himself…"
His voice sharpened.
"…is a traitor."
Limejuice's jaw tightened.
Of all the things he had expected today, that was the one thing he didn't need to hear.
Images flashed through his mind.
His old crew.
Broken promises.
Men who smiled beside him until danger came.
Then vanished.
He slowly turned fully toward Momonga.
There was no smile on his face now.
No sarcasm.
No laid-back charm.
He pointed the staff directly at the Vice Admiral.
Black Armament Haki flowed over one end first.
Then the other.
"Watch your mouth," Limejuice said quietly.
Momonga did not flinch.
Limejuice's grip tightened.
"You can call me a pirate."
He took one step forward.
"You can call me a liar."
Another step.
"But don't ever…"
The staff spun once in his hands, fast and vicious.
"…call me a traitor."
---
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