Two years, seven hundred and thirty days and nights.
When the 73rd Branch base commander personally pinned the brand-new shoulder insignia representing the rank of private first class onto Seraphilia's shoulder, she could barely feel the weight of the metal.
"Your ability is very special, private first class Seraphilia. The Marine needs this kind of'special'. Keep working hard, don't waste this talent." The Branch Leader's voice carried formulaic encouragement, but his eyes held undisguised scrutiny and expectation.
"Yes, sir!"
Seraphilia saluted, her posture as straight as a pine, her ice-blue eyes as calm as ice as always in the salty, humid sea breeze of the West Blue.
The gazes cast by her colleagues were complex, filled with surprise, jealousy, and curiosity.
Going from third class private to private first class in less than two years was a minor legend in their quiet branch.
They did not know how astonishing the tactical value of the Cloud-Cloud Fruit was for maritime reconnaissance, controlling fires, and pursuing small-time pirates.
They would never know that this cold-faced female soldier, who was usually reticent and kept her distance from everyone, had only one thought in her mind—clear to the point of obsession—every time she gave her all to complete a mission or pushed herself to the limit in grueling training.
—Higher pay, freer operational authority, and more abundant resources.
All of this would eventually turn into warmer winter clothes for Robin, a richer collection of books on her bookshelf, an extra piece of fresh fish for dinner, or a few rare fruits she had never seen before but would look at with curiosity.
Yes, Robin.
This name was the softest incantation in her heart.
The moment she thought of her, the metal of the shoulder insignia seemed to gain warmth, burning her with the urgency to return home.
The night was as dark as ink, and Black Iron Town was enveloped in the smell of rust and coal ash.
Seraphilia's figure, like a wisp of thin night mist, moved silently along the shadows of the wall corners, nimbly bypassing the patrol's fixed route, and finally familiarly pushed open the wooden window that would emit a slight "creak."
Inside, the faint light of an oil lamp, like a bean, cast a warm yellow glow over the small space.
Under the lamp, the black-haired girl who had once been skin and bones, her eyes full of fear, had now blossomed.
Twelve-year-old Robin had grown taller; although still slender, she was no longer fragile enough to break at a touch, but had instead developed the graceful silhouette of a budding young girl.
Her plumper cheeks showed a healthy flush, and those pale blue eyes, no longer constantly stained by fear, appeared increasingly clear and bright.
At this moment, she was curled up by the fireplace, holding a thick ancient book, reading intently.
Hearing the window sound, her long eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly looked up.
"You're back?"
Her voice was not loud, but it was like a pebble thrown into the icy lake of Seraphilia's heart, rippling out circles named "home."
"Mm."
Seraphilia responded, taking off her Marine uniform jacket while unobtrusively hiding her injured left arm behind her back.
She had been grazed by a stray bullet while wiping out a gang of low-life pirates during the day; the wound wasn't deep, but it was throbbing with pain now.
She didn't want Robin to see it.
However, Robin's gaze was extremely sharp.
She just watched Seraphilia quietly for a few seconds, her gaze falling on her somewhat unnatural movements and the faint, yet impossible to ignore, scent of blood in the air.
Robin put down her book, stood up, and walked in front of Seraphilia without a word.
"Hand."
Her voice was lower than before, carrying a commanding tone.
"...It's a small wound."
Seraphilia tried to brush it off, feeling it wasn't a big deal.
But Robin was unmoved; she simply reached out and grabbed her left arm directly.
Seraphilia instinctively flinched, but didn't manage to dodge.
When Robin's fingertips touched the crude bandage on her arm, which was soaked with blood, Seraphilia clearly saw the girl's pupils suddenly constrict.
The next second, Robin pressed her lips together, turned around, and rummaged through the small wooden box by the bedside to find a small medicine jar and a roll of clean cloth strips.
That was what Seraphilia had left for her as a backup.
"Sit down."
Seraphilia looked at her tense profile, feeling both helpless and a surge of warmth in her heart, and sat down obediently on the edge of the bed.
Robin knelt in front of her, carefully unwrapping the coarse bandage.
When the wound was exposed to the lamplight, her lowered eyelashes fluttered again.
The wound was actually not big, just a bit of torn flesh, making it look a bit gruesome.
She lowered her head, dipped the cloth strip in clean water, and cleaned the blood around the wound with clumsy but exceptionally gentle movements.
Her fingertips were cool, and every touch was like a feather brushing by, causing the muscles in Seraphilia's arm to relax unconsciously.
Then, she used her fingertips to scoop out a little ointment and carefully applied it.
The cooling ointment seemed to carry a strange, soothing power that seeped all the way into her heart.
Throughout the process, neither of them spoke.
Seraphilia looked down and could only see Robin's focused profile, her long eyelashes casting faint shadows in the dim yellow light.
She smelled the clean scent of soap from Robin's hair, mixed with her own reassuring fragrance.
At this moment, she suddenly felt that all the tears she had shed for this girl in her past life while staring at a screen, and all the wishes she had made to protect her, had received the grandest response at this very moment.
All the running around, all the danger and pain, seemed to have been to exchange for the tranquility and possession of this moment before her eyes.
After bandaging the wound and tying a knot that wasn't pretty but was secure, Robin finally looked up.
"Be careful next time."
She said sullenly, her pale blue eyes filled with complex emotions Seraphilia had never seen before—a mixture of worry and a hint of anger— "And, you are not allowed to hide things from me again."
"...Okay."
Seraphilia's heart felt as if it were being gently grasped by a warm hand, and she tightened her arm, holding her more securely.
The night grew late, and the two lay down as usual.
It was unclear from which cold winter night it had started, but after she lay down, Robin would naturally turn around and curl up into her embrace.
Tonight was no exception.
Robin leaned over, resting her forehead in the crook of her shoulder, one hand carefully avoiding the injury and resting lightly on her uninjured arm.
Seraphilia adjusted her posture, wrapping her around with her uninjured arm, her chin resting on her soft hair.
In this small, fragile harbor, time flowed in its own way, smoothing out fear into habit, turning tentative probing into tacit understanding, and weaving two scarred souls together, bit by bit, with the warmth of countless nights of connected clothing corners and embraces.
Seraphilia sat quietly holding the person in her arms, feeling her steady, long breaths.
The road ahead was still very long and dangerous, full of all kinds of unknown uncertainties.
The World Government's pursuit, the raging waves of the future... but it didn't matter.
She thought, this private first class shoulder insignia was just a beginning.
She would become stronger, strong enough to become the most indestructible dam for this little harbor.
Because the one in her arms was the only treasure in the whole world that she was willing to give everything to protect.
It was her very first, original starting point.
------------------------
I've posted 70+ chapters in advance on Patreon.
Webnovel updates will still be daily, as usual.
It might not seem tempting right now but who knows what the future holds?
[email protected]/SolyuraMT
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"