Garp's fist blurred towards me. "Relax. Let go. Feel the attack coming… and become paper." Easier said than done. Every instinct screamed danger. Years spent dodging attacks, running from threats, had hardwired my muscles to tense, to evade, to block – not to go limp like paper waiting to be torn.
My eyes squeezed shut. I tried to force the tension out of my shoulders, my legs. I tried to picture myself as a leaf on the wind, yielding, flowing. But all I could feel was the immense pressure of Garp's incoming fist, the certainty of impact. That flicker of light, the nascent shield born of the Tenshi fruit, flared instinctively just beneath my skin, trying to cushion the blow even as my muscles tensed defensively.
WHUMP!
The impact wasn't as bone-jarring as his 'Tekkai' punches from yesterday, thanks to the light shield taking the edge off, but it wasn't Kami-e. I stumbled back, gasping, clutching my stomach. Garp hadn't flowed around the attack; I had simply endured it, albeit slightly better than expected.
Garp clicked his tongue, frowning. "No, no, no! Still tensing! Still trying to meet force with force! That light trick of yours might save your skin sometimes, brat, but it won't help you learn this." He gestured impatiently. "Kami-e isn't about blocking; it's about nullifying through evasion! Your body needs to react before the shield does! Before conscious thought! Let go!"
He didn't wait. His other fist shot out, a swift jab aimed at my shoulder. Again, I flinched, tensed. Again, the light flared defensively. Again, the blow landed solidly, spinning me halfway around.
"Useless!" Garp barked. "Forget the fruit! Forget dodging! Empty your mind! Become paper!"
Meanwhile, across the clearing, Ace and Luffy were having their own struggles.
"Gomu Gomu no PISTOL!" Luffy threw a punch at Ace.
"Idiot! Don't use your power!" Ace yelled, trying to twist away. Luffy's rubber fist stretched, following his movement easily and bopping him on the head. Boink! "Ow!"
"Shishishi! Sorry, Ace!"
"Try again! And relax!" Ace ordered, trying to adopt a loose stance himself.
Luffy threw a normal punch this time. Ace attempted to sway, to flow like Garp had. He managed a slight ripple, but mistimed it, and Luffy's fist connected solidly with his arm.
"You gotta relax more, Ace!" Luffy advised, scratching his head. "Like... like jelly!"
"Shut up, Luffy!" Ace snapped, rubbing his arm, frustration etched on his face. Relaxing under attack went against his aggressive, confrontational nature just as much as it went against my survival instincts.
The morning devolved into a symphony of frustration. Garp relentlessly attacked me – jabs, hooks, even light kicks – his movements deceptively fast despite their supposed 'gentleness'. Each time, my instincts fought against the core principle of Kami-e. Tense. Dodge. Shield. Every successful block with the Tenshi light felt like a failure in learning the actual technique. Garp's criticism was constant, sharp, unforgiving. "Too slow!" "Too stiff!" "Thinking too much!" "Are you paper or a rock?!"
Ace and Luffy fared little better. Luffy's rubber body made the concept of flowing evasion somewhat redundant, though Garp occasionally yelled at him to try and anticipate attacks better instead of just bouncing off them. Ace, driven by his fierce pride, kept trying, managing fleeting moments where his body would bend or sway unnaturally around a blow, only to be caught by the next one because he couldn't maintain the required state of relaxed readiness.
Days bled into weeks under Garp's relentless tutelage. Our lives settled into a grueling rhythm: wake before dawn, endure hours of Rokushiki training that pushed us past our physical and mental limits, hunt for food in the perilous forest, eat, collapse into exhausted sleep, repeat. Garp mixed the training constantly. One morning might be dedicated to the impossible task of Kami-e, the afternoon spent attempting Soru sprints that left us gasping and mud-caked, or Tekkai drills that left us bruised and aching. He'd make us practice Geppo leaps off cliff edges (with him usually catching Luffy before he bounced all the way down), or try Soru dashes across rushing rivers.
Slowly, painfully, progress began to surface, like stubborn weeds pushing through concrete. Ace, fueled by sheer willpower and a refusal to be outdone, started achieving short, controlled bursts of Soru, blurring across the clearing for a few steps before faltering. He even managed a shaky Geppo leap or two, kicking furiously at the air to gain a few precious feet of altitude before gravity reclaimed him. His Tekkai remained inconsistent, but his muscles were undeniably hardening.
Luffy, being Luffy, progressed in his own chaotic way. His Soru attempts still looked like frantic stomping, but sometimes he did disappear for a split second, usually reappearing tangled in vines or halfway up a tree. His Geppo was less walking on air and more like uncontrolled bouncing off invisible platforms, but he could stay airborne longer than Ace or me, albeit with zero grace. Tekkai was useless on his rubber body, and Kami-e seemed counterintuitive to his usual method of absorbing blows, though he occasionally managed a surprising rubbery contortion that mimicked the effect.
My own progress felt frustratingly slow, especially with Kami-e. The instinct to shield, to tense, was deeply ingrained. Yet, Garp's relentless attacks, combined with sheer exhaustion, sometimes forced moments of clarity. A flash of movement, a fist coming towards my face… and instead of light flaring, my body would just… yield. My head would tilt back, my torso swaying fractionally, the fist whistling past my ear, hitting empty air. The sensation was bizarre, effortless yet requiring total focus. These moments were rare, fleeting, often followed immediately by getting solidly punched when I lost the feeling, but they were happening.
My control over the Tenshi fruit's defensive light also grew, becoming less purely instinctual and more consciously directed, though still far from mastered. I learned to focus it, creating a stronger, more localized cushion against Garp's Tekkai-testing blows. Soru and Geppo remained largely beyond me, though occasionally, channeling the Tenshi energy seemed to grant a brief, uncontrolled burst of speed or lift, hinting at the fruit's potential beyond mere defense.
Outside of the brutal training, a strange sort of domesticity settled over the bandit hut. Dadan still grumbled constantly, but she always had food ready (usually stew, sometimes boar), and occasionally patched up our more serious scrapes with rough bandages and muttered curses about "Garp's brats". We learned the rhythms of the mountain, the best places to find clean water, the territories of the most dangerous beasts (avoiding the giant tigers Garp sometimes sicced on us was a key survival skill).
The awkwardness from that first morning faded, replaced by the easy, bickering camaraderie of siblings forged in fire (or rather, Garp's fists). Ace remained intense and driven, pushing himself and Luffy relentlessly, but his sharp edges occasionally softened, especially when Luffy did something exceptionally stupid or brave. He still tried to probe into my past sometimes during rare moments of downtime, but Garp's presence or the sheer exhaustion usually cut those conversations short. Luffy remained a boundless source of energy and optimism, his simple perspective often cutting through the tension, even if his appetite strained Dadan's resources and his rubbery limbs caused occasional chaos in the cramped hut. The incident with the sleeping arrangements wasn't repeated – I made sure to maintain a strict boundary of straw between us – but the memory occasionally brought a faint blush to my cheeks or earned me a teasing smirk from Ace.
Three months flew by in this crucible of pain, sweat, and relentless effort. The seasons began to subtly shift, the humid summer heat giving way to a cooler autumn breeze rustling through the changing leaves of Mt. Colubo. We were leaner, harder, scarred but stronger. The tentative sparks Garp had seen had been fanned into small, steady flames.
One crisp morning, after a particularly intense sparring session where Ace managed a sustained Soru burst to land a solid hit on Luffy (who promptly bounced back), and I actually managed to use Kami-e to evade three consecutive jabs from Garp before instinctively shielding against a fourth, Garp called a halt earlier than usual.
He stood before us, arms crossed, surveying our progress. Ace was breathing heavily but standing tall, pride warring with exhaustion. Luffy was grinning, excited by the spar despite taking a few hits. I felt drained but strangely centered, the successful Kami-e evasions a small victory hard-won.
Garp nodded slowly, a rare expression of genuine, unadulterated approval touching his features before being quickly masked by his usual gruffness. "Alright," he announced, his voice lacking its usual booming volume. "That's enough."
We looked at him, confused. Enough for the day?
"Three months," he continued, looking each of us in the eye. "You've learned the basics. Soru, Geppo, Tekkai, Kami-e." He grunted. "Still sloppy. Still got a long way to go to master 'em. But..." He allowed a faint smirk. "You ain't the same weaklings who washed up here or got kicked out of Foosha." He acknowledged our mastery, in his own backhanded way.
He turned, looking out towards the distant blue strip of the East Blue visible through a gap in the trees. "Duty calls," he said simply, his tone flat. "Got reports to file, pirates to punch, Admirals to annoy. Time for this old Marine to get back to work."
He was leaving. The realization settled over us, sudden and slightly jarring after months under his constant, oppressive presence.
He turned back, his gaze sweeping over Ace, then Luffy, lingering for a moment with an unreadable expression, before finally settling on me.
"You three," he said, his voice rough, "you got the foundation now. The Six Powers will serve you well, whether you become Marines," he shot a pointed look at Luffy and Ace, who both flinched, "or... something else." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "What you do with it now? That's on you."
He stepped closer to me, lowering his voice slightly again, though Ace and Luffy were clearly listening intently. "Akane. That fruit of yours..." He frowned, tapping his chin. "The Tenshi Tenshi no Mi. It ain't Rokushiki. It ain't something I can teach you." His eyes held a serious warning. "That light shield is just the surface. Archangel power... it's somethin' else entirely. Somethin' feared for a reason."
He met my gaze squarely. "You gotta figure it out on your own. How it works. What it can really do. Control it." He poked my forehead lightly with a thick finger. "Before its potential controls you, or draws attention you really can't handle yet."
He straightened up, turning abruptly away from us, towards the path leading down the mountain. No long goodbyes, no final words of wisdom beyond the cryptic warning about my fruit. That was Garp.
He started walking, his broad back retreating down the path, leaving a silence heavier than any training session behind him.
We watched him go – the Marine Vice Admiral, the 'Hero', the 'Devil Gramps', the man who had saved my life and trained us relentlessly. Ace stood stiffly, fists clenched, his expression unreadable. Luffy just looked confused, scratching his head. "Huh? Gramps is leaving?"
I watched him disappear around a bend in the path, the complex knot of emotions regarding him – gratitude, anger, fear, respect – swirling within me. He'd given us tools, a foundation of strength. But he'd also left us with dangerous knowledge, simmering secrets, and a future more uncertain than ever.
The silence stretched, filled only by the whisper of the wind through the autumn leaves. Finally, Ace broke it, his voice low, intense, cutting through the quiet morning air. He wasn't looking at Garp's retreating path; he was looking directly at me, his dark eyes burning with resolve.
"So," he said, the single word loaded with unspoken questions and possibilities. "He's gone." He paused, taking a breath.
"Now what?"