Beneath the shade of a wide banyan tree, Gion stood quietly, watching.
Her gaze followed Kuzan, who was drenched in sweat as he practiced Soru and Geppo. His movements were swift, but there was still a hint of carelessness in them. Feeling cocky, Kuzan decided to show off — attempting a midair somersault.
A misstep.
And then—gravity did its job.
For a brief second, he thought to himself with wry humor:
"Even the strongest justice can't save you from falling."
Then came the free fall.
Luckily, he switched into his ice elemental form before hitting the ground. Otherwise, he might've become the first man in Marine history to die while wielding a Logia Fruit.
"Looks like women really do slow down my sword-drawing speed," Kuzan muttered lazily as he lay sprawled on the grass.
Gion's composure cracked. Watching him fall out of the air like a fool, then act like nothing happened — she couldn't hold back her laughter.
"Hey! Big-busted lady!" Kuzan called out, grinning. "You just gonna stand there while your future admiral crashes to his death? Where's your sense of justice? You're supposed to catch me!"
"Pervert!" Gion snapped, face red. "Look at yourself — you think I'd fall for a half-asleep beanpole like you? Dream on!"
She had been the picture of elegance once. But somehow, every time she spoke to Kuzan, he dragged her down to his level.
"Alright, alright," Kuzan said with mock seriousness. "Let's just pretend you secretly like me. C'mon, I'll treat you to the cafeteria."
Gion rolled her eyes but followed anyway, muttering, "You're always hungry. Is there any time you're not eating?"
"Never," Kuzan admitted cheerfully. "Justice runs on a full stomach."
Inside the cafeteria, the familiar aroma of grilled meat filled the air. The head chef, Old Parker, looked up as Kuzan entered.
"Ah, Lieutenant Kuzan! Your cow's ready."
Several cooks brought out an entire roasted ox on a cart, followed by others carrying massive bowls of rice. Gion stared, speechless.
"Wait… that's all for you?!"
"Of course not," Kuzan said casually. "That's just the first dish."
Before she could recover, the chefs began setting out even more meat — ribs, fish, pork, chicken — all in staggering portions.
Gion could only sit down, dumbfounded.
"Stop staring and eat," Kuzan said, already digging in.
As they ate, he suddenly grinned. "Hey, Gion! How about I teach you swordplay after lunch? Step by step, personally instructed by the great Kuzan!"
"Get lost!" she shot back immediately.
"Come on, I don't make that offer to just anyone."
"Then I should thank you?" Gion asked sweetly, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Seeing the look on her face, Kuzan wisely shut up and focused on eating. Gion, annoyed and hungry, turned her irritation into determination — attacking her food with renewed fury.
"Whoa, easy there," Kuzan said between bites. "You'll turn into a ball at this rate. Who'll carry you then?"
That did it. Gion froze mid-bite, glaring daggers at him.
"Mind your own business, you ice-for-brains!"
Kuzan chuckled. They finished their meal between bickering, laughter, and the occasional insult.
When it was done, Gion left with a huff, while Kuzan stretched lazily and stepped out into the midday sun. The warmth felt strange but comforting on his skin — a rare thing for a man made of ice.
This afternoon, he'd be training under Instructor Zephyr again.
Just thinking about it made him smile faintly. He wanted to get stronger — had to get stronger.
For months, he'd felt stuck, unable to break past his limits. That frustration was what had driven him to leave the South Blue in the first place.
Back home, he washed up quickly, stretched out on his bed, and muttered with a sigh,
"Time for a quick nap… before Zephyr kills me again."
And with that, Kuzan drifted off to sleep, sunlight spilling across his lazy grin.
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