Marineford — Officers' Club
Warm jazz drifted through the gilded ballroom. Crystal chandeliers poured honey-colored light over crisp uniforms and gleaming shoulder boards, turning the whole room into a soft, polished glow.
Tonight's event was a promotion celebration thrown specifically for Gion—one of Headquarters' most talked-about social occasions in recent memory.
At the center of it all stood Gion, freshly promoted to Marine HQ Rear Admiral. She was popular even by Marine standards: strong, composed, and impeccably elegant. Veterans respected her; younger officers adored her. The hall was packed with mid- and high-ranking personnel, lively and loud with congratulations.
She wasn't wearing her stern "Justice" coat tonight. Instead, she'd chosen a fitted deep-blue evening gown and a string of warm pearls at her neck—still carrying a soldier's edge, yet radiating a mature charm that made it hard to look away.
Young captains—some even rear admirals and vice admirals—clustered around her with raised glasses, eager to leave an impression on a rising star.
But though Gion wore the proper smile, her gaze was distracted. She politely declined every dance request, champagne in hand, scanning the crowd—until she found the figure she'd been looking for in the farthest corner.
"Sorry. Excuse me."
She slipped through the crowd and walked straight toward the most inconspicuous corner of the hall.
There, Rain was sunk into a soft leather sofa, lazily swirling half a glass of amber whiskey. Across from him, Smoker sat with his tie yanked crooked, staring at a plate of nuts like it owed him five million berri.
Rain should've been the night's "invisible protagonist," yet a quiet loneliness tugged at him.
Because of being gone for three full months, he'd missed the Elite Training Camp's graduation season completely. Hina had already been posted to a branch—no chance to even say goodbye. And that big golden retriever, Rosinante, had reportedly been assigned to some top-secret mission; even his file had been temporarily sealed.
Rain had picked out a pile of gifts back on Gold Crown Island… and hadn't managed to give a single one away. They were still sitting in his storage ring, gathering dust. That feeling—wanting to share good news, only to realize the people you'd share it with were already scattered—left him with no interest in mingling with strangers.
"Why are you hiding over here?"
A familiar, pleasant fragrance brushed in with her. Gion sat down on the armrest right beside Rain—an intimate little move that made a few young officers watching from afar feel their hearts crack.
"I don't like places that are too loud," Rain lifted his glass slightly, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Congratulations on the promotion, Rear Admiral Gion."
"Save it." Gion rolled her eyes, leaning forward a touch and lowering her voice behind her champagne glass. "You know exactly how I got that rear-admiral rank. It's basically thanks to Colonel Rain."
A flicker of mischief flashed in her eyes—then vanished just as quickly. Naturally, she reached out and adjusted Rain's slightly crooked bow tie, her touch light and practiced.
"Once you get over there, be careful. Don't go making another headline."
Even though she was the star of the banquet—bathed in flowers and applause—she knew better than anyone that the shining insignia on her shoulder was, in large part, built on the man in front of her. Rain's achievements had been deliberately handled quietly, so the one under the spotlight tonight was the face that best served the Navy's image: her.
To some people, though, that gentle scene was… unbearable.
"Gioooon, my dear—!!!"
A wildly exaggerated, oily shout smashed the corner's calm.
The ballroom doors burst open. A man in a mustard-yellow striped suit and brown fedora strode in like he owned the place, clutching a bouquet of red roses so huge it could bury someone. His grin was feverish and uncomfortable.
"Congratulations on your promotion! These are flowers of love, prepared for you! Please accept my affection!"
Tokikake ignored the stares. He slid to his knees right in front of Gion, lifting the bouquet like an offering.
Gion's smile vanished instantly. She recoiled with visible disgust—almost pressing herself into Rain on reflex.
"Vice Admiral Tokikake, compose yourself. This is a public setting."
"C'mon, don't be so cold!" Tokikake sprang up, about to continue when his gaze slid past Gion and landed on the young man still calmly seated on the sofa.
And when he saw Gion unconsciously leaning toward Rain, Tokikake's squinty eyes flared with blatant jealousy and hostility.
Of course he knew this kid. Headquarters had been buzzing for days about a new rising star—Colonel Rain, the man tied to Mock Town's "five hundred pirate" incident and the G-17 affair.
But to an old-guard vice admiral like Tokikake, this was just a "lucky" newcomer with a pretty face—good at charming women, and not much else.
"Oh? Aren't you that hotshot rookie everyone's been talking about?"
Tokikake stepped closer, his tone dripping with mockery. "Colonel Rain, right? Heard you did well at Mock Town and G-17. But—"
He leaned in, and a terrifying pressure poured out of him—pure killing intent, not Conqueror's Haki, but that iron-blooded battlefield aura veterans carried. The air seemed to thicken.
Smoker's expression changed. He started to rise—only to freeze, pinned by the sheer weight of it.
Tokikake's smile turned mean. This was deliberate. If Rain so much as flinched—spilled his drink, went pale—Tokikake would pounce on it, humiliate him, and make him look small in front of Gion.
"Young man, you should learn your place. You see a superior officer and you can't even stand to salute?"
His voice carried the pressure, making nearby glassware tremble.
And then—
Rain didn't move.
He didn't even lift his eyelids.
He just swirled his whiskey, watching the ice sphere turn, and casually said, "That killing intent's kind of weak, isn't it? Not even close to the intensity Instructor Zephyr used in recruit pressure tests."
"Vice Admiral Tokikake," Rain said evenly.
And in the instant he spoke—
A faint, nearly invisible crackle slipped from his fingertips into the air.
No thunder. No dramatic flash.
But in the microscopic world where charge and heat danced, the bouquet of roses was quietly engulfed by a subtle high-temperature field.
"Tap… tap."
Tokikake was waiting smugly for Rain to embarrass himself when he suddenly felt the bouquet getting hot.
He glanced down—then went pale.
His expensive striped suit had all its fibers standing up like a shocked porcupine from static cling. And the 999 roses in his arms were blackening at the edges, curling, smoking—
"W-what the—?!"
He tried to drop them, but the static adhesion made them cling to his gloves and sleeves like they were glued on.
Rain finally looked up. Behind his innocent expression, something faintly amused flickered through his eyes.
"Vice Admiral Tokikake, your passion…" Rain raised his whiskey and took a small sip, then nodded toward the bouquet. "…is a little too hot. Even the flowers can't handle it."
Whoosh!
The roses—heated past ignition—flared up into a sudden fireball.
"Aaaah—hot, hot, hot!!"
Tokikake yelped, his eyebrows getting singed as he stumbled backward and fell on his backside. His brown hat rolled away, revealing a comically unfortunate balding crown.
The entire hall went dead silent.
No one understood what they'd just seen—only that Chaton's roses had spontaneously combusted in his hands.
"Sorry, Vice Admiral Tokikake," Rain said, setting his glass down with a pure, harmless smile, like this was truly an accident. "Maybe cool them down next time before gifting them."
Gion finally broke—covering her mouth as she laughed.
Tokikake's face turned the color of liver. He shot Rain a murderous glare, but with no proof of foul play, he could only scramble up and flee into the crowd—forgetting his hat entirely.
…
Late night — after the banquet
At the quiet military pier behind Marineford, the sea breeze was cool. The noise of the party had faded; only the waves remained.
Rain and Gion walked side by side under the moonlight, their long shadows overlapping on the planks.
"You're leaving first thing tomorrow?" Gion asked, voice low as she stared at the dark water.
"Yeah." Rain kept his hands in his pockets. "Even with Moore acting as a puppet over there, G-17 is still a mess. Better to take over sooner."
Gion fell silent. She stopped and leaned back against the railing, wind lifting her hair.
"Honestly, Rain…"
Her voice softened—rarely vulnerable.
"Since the day I met you at recruit camp… I've been happy."
"Even with those three months apart, when we met again, it was the same. I got used to coming back late and having someone waiting with supper. I got used to being around you."
"And thinking about tomorrow—going back to bland mess-hall food, sitting alone in an empty office…"
She lifted her eyes. Under the moonlight, they shimmered.
"I… really might be a little… reluctant to see you go."
Rain's heart skipped.
He looked at her.
Moonlight traced her silhouette, stripping away the rear admiral's sharpness and leaving something breathtakingly human.
Something unfamiliar stirred in his usually steady chest.
"Gion."
He stepped closer, close enough to feel each other's breath.
Half teasing, half serious, he said, "G-17 isn't that far. If you ever miss me—"
He lifted a hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertip brushing her warm ear lightly.
"Come find me anytime. You'll always be welcome."
Gion shivered slightly at the touch. She didn't pull away. Instead she held his gaze for a long moment, then curved her lips into a meaningful smile.
"You said it."
…
Next morning
At dawn, a brand-new large warship waited in port—Headquarters' award to Rain, issued at "rear-admiral standards" despite his rank, to ensure the new G-17 commander could actually secure the Golden Route.
Tsuru had already arranged personnel and supplies with ruthless efficiency. Everything was ready.
Rain stood on the dock, appraising the steel beast. He didn't say it aloud, but after seeing the Diamond Queen's absurd luxury, this standard-issue warship looked… almost plain.
It'll do, he thought. Later, I'll commission something worthy of my name.
On deck, sailors raised anchor. Rain stood at the bow in his new colonel's coat, the sea wind snapping its hem.
He looked back at Marineford's fortress, his gaze lingering toward Gion's quarters longer than he meant to.
…Yeah. I'm leaving.
Beside him, Smoker leaned against the mast with two cigars in his mouth—wearing a face that looked suspiciously like he was holding back laughter.
Smoker had requested the transfer himself to serve as Rain's deputy at G-17. He knew he wasn't ready to command a base alone yet, and if he had to be someone's right hand, he'd rather follow his old roommate than some rigid fossil.
Having two Logias assigned to one branch was extravagant, but given G-17's strategic importance, Tsuru had approved it with one decisive signature.
"What're you staring at?" Smoker drawled, smoke curling. "So focused—did the ocean propose to you?"
"Not staring at anything." Rain shot him a look. "Why are you grinning like that? Find money on the ground?"
"Hah. Money?" Smoker blew a ring and stared at him like Rain was an idiot. "I'm laughing at someone who's still sighing at the air."
"What are you talking about?" Rain frowned.
Just then—
"Report, Base Commander!"
A second deputy, Lieutenant Commander Collins, jogged over, expression awkward.
"About departure… there's an issue."
"What issue? Supplies are all loaded." Rain turned.
"Supplies are ready, yes, but…" Collins pointed at the sealed door of the main cabin. "…there's a special inspector aboard. Without her order, we can't depart."
"Inspector?" Rain blinked. "Tsuru didn't say anything about an inspector. Who's pulling rank on my ship?"
He strode to the main cabin. "Let me see who's—"
Rain shoved the door open.
"Who's the inspec—"
His voice died.
He froze in the doorway like he'd been turned to stone.
Morning sunlight poured through the windows. The air carried a familiar perfume.
Gion—already changed into a clean, casual outfit—was lounging in his command chair, a cup of fresh hot coffee in hand. She looked up at Rain's stunned face and smiled brilliantly.
"Morning, Colonel Rain." She blew on her coffee, eyes curving. "What's for breakfast? I'm hungry."
Rain: (°A°)
"Y-you… why are you here?!"
"What, not happy to see me?" Gion set the coffee down, picked up a document, and waved it with a satisfied smile. Tsuru's signature was unmistakable.
She read it aloud, sweetly:
"Given G-17's strategic importance, and the new base commander's limited tenure… Marine HQ Rear Admiral Gion is hereby appointed Special Inspector, to accompany the ship for three months, assist in rebuilding defenses, and evaluate the base commander's performance."
She stepped closer, leaned near his ear, and whispered so only he could hear:
"Tsuru said you're slippery. She's afraid you'll run wild alone… so she told me to watch you."
Warm breath against his ear. A teasing lilt.
Rain stared at her for a full three seconds—then whipped his head toward the doorway.
Outside, Smoker was leaning there, finally unable to hold it in anymore.
He burst out laughing, shoulders shaking.
He'd known. He'd known the whole time.
"SMOKER!" Rain snapped. "You bastard—why didn't you tell me earlier?!"
"You didn't ask," Smoker shrugged, utterly delighted.
Rain exhaled, helpless, then looked back at Gion's victorious grin. The faint melancholy in his chest evaporated on the spot.
He sighed—then couldn't stop his own smile from spreading.
"As you command, Inspector."
Then he turned, voice loud and bright, brimming with unhidden excitement:
"All hands! Prepare to depart! Destination—G-17 Branch!"
The warship's horn blared.
Bathed in sunrise gold, it pulled away from Marineford and sailed out into the open sea.
~~~
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