Everyone's fate drifts like clouds across the sky—shifting with every gust of wind, never letting anyone predict whether luck or disaster is coming.
While Kuzan was pushing himself to the edge of life and death out at sea, Gion was also training relentlessly at Marine Headquarters, sharpening her swordsmanship day after day.
The world may be full of bright and bitter flavors, but those who stand at the top learn to face all of them with calm resolve.
Unlike Kuzan, who possessed an exceptionally rare Logia-type Devil Fruit, Gion had no natural advantage. The only way she could close the gap between them was by relying on pure discipline, talent, and will.
Time does not slow down for anyone. Fate rises and falls, like a waterfall dropping into a river—no matter how far it falls, it is all still the same water.
Sometimes, the person she cared about would flicker through her thoughts like an afterimage—just long enough to sting.
She tried to swing her sword until the ache left her chest.
But whenever she swung harder, it only reminded her more.
The training ground was lined with damaged trees, each scarred by countless slashes. No one could remember how many trunks she had already cut through—only that the next one always fell the same way.
Major General Dave stood outside the field, watching silently.
Gion was his most promising disciple, and the way she threw herself into training both impressed him and concerned him.
Ever since Kuzan disappeared… she had changed.
That playful spark she always had was gone.
She trained until dawn.
She practiced Haki until her arms went numb.
She swung her blade as if every strike was a question she still couldn't answer.
And she was getting stronger.
So much stronger that Dave could already feel the gap between them shrinking.
Sometimes it made him proud.
Sometimes it reminded him how terrifying true talent was.
Years of his own training were being overtaken in months.
"Teacher," Gion said at last, lowering her sword. "Will you spar with me?"
She needed a comparison—needed to know how far she still was from Kuzan.
And the only person she could measure against… was the same man Kuzan defeated with ease.
Dave understood. He didn't refuse.
"Very well," he nodded.
The two faced each other.
Clang!
Their blades collided, ringing sharply through the air.
Shhh—!
They darted across the field, slashing, stepping, vanishing, and reappearing—Haki flaring each time steel met steel.
Gion suddenly swung her blade.
A silver slash tore forward, sharp enough to split the air. Dave sensed it the instant before impact, countering with a slash of his own.
BOOM!
The blows collided mid-air, exploding in a burst of wind and dust.
"One-Sword Style—Senra Crescent!"
With killing intent sharpened into form, Gion's spirit merged with her sword. Two slashes crossed like falling moonlight, flying straight toward Dave.
"What a blade!"
Dave commented even as he blocked—swinging several rapid blows infused with Armament Haki. His slashes met hers in midair again.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each collision tore up the ground, sending shockwaves rolling through the training field. The force split nearby trees—those already cut by Gion's practice shattered completely.
Gion spun into the air and unleashed another strike.
"One-Sword Style—Kana Shigure!"
She moved like a falling petal—yet her slash curved unnaturally, tracking Dave even after he dodged. His Observation Haki told him to move, but it was too late.
The blade scraped across his chest. Armament Haki saved his life, but blood still spilled.
Breathing hard, Dave pressed a hand to the wound and forced a laugh.
"A frightening technique. That slash couldn't be avoided at all. How did you manage it?"
Gion hesitated, then answered honestly:
"I adapted it from Kuzan's sword-drawing strike."
Dave's eyes widened—not in anger, but in admiration.
"…Very good. You're progressing fast. I'll arrange for a swordmaster to teach you further."
Gion bowed her head.
"Thank you, Instructor Dave."
The match ended there, and she helped him to the medical ward.
Only when the bandages were wrapped did Gion fully grasp the weight of her own strike.
Two crescent-shaped cuts crossed over Dave's chest—misaligned but deep, almost brutal.
Even the doctor drew a sharp breath before ordering a full week of recovery.
Gion looked ashamed, but Dave only shook his head.
"Don't hold back because of me. You're doing everything right."
She didn't argue—she simply returned home in silence.
Her room felt colder than usual.
Training without Kuzan watching.
Eating without his teasing voice.
Growing stronger without knowing if he would ever see it.
No one would tell her where Kuzan was.
What he was doing.
Whether he was alive.
And so she trained harder.
But it never felt the same.
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