Garp's pronouncement about refining our individual fighting styles and exploring the true potential of Luffy's rubber body hung in the cool night air, a promise of even more specialized, and likely more brutal, training to come. The old man, true to his word, or perhaps just enjoying his extended "vacation" from Marine bureaucracy, showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. His presence had become a strange, oppressive constant in our lives, a force of nature that alternately terrified, infuriated, and grudgingly earned our respect.
That night, after Garp had lumbered off to Dadan's hut (likely to demand more food or find a place to snore loud enough to shake the mountain), and Ace had retreated to his usual brooding spot near the edge of the forest, leaving a trail of muttered complaints about "never-ending training" and "senile old Marines," a fragile quiet settled over our small encampment. The campfire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the trees. The moon, a sliver of silver in the inky sky, offered a gentle, ethereal light.
Luffy, who had been unusually quiet since Garp's pronouncement about his rubber abilities, fidgeted beside the fire. He poked at the embers with a stick, his usual boundless energy subdued, replaced by a restless, nervous tension that reminded me of that day on the rock after the accidental kiss. He kept glancing at me, then quickly looking away, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink that was visible even in the firelight.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, he took a deep breath, puffed out his chest slightly as if bracing himself, and turned to me, his expression a mixture of shy determination and utter confusion.
"Ne, Akane," he began, his voice a little hesitant, his gaze fixed somewhere around my kneecaps. "About… about earlier…" He gestured vaguely, presumably towards the entire disastrous, mortifying, and secretly thrilling sequence of events involving kisses, both accidental and almost-intentional. "And… and in the forest… when we… when we talked…" He trailed off, his blush deepening, his ears glowing like embers.
He took another gulp of air. "Just because… just because you kissed me at the bar… and because… because I said I… I liked you in the forest… and you said you liked me too…" He was rambling now, his words tumbling out in a rush, his face a study in earnest confusion. "That… that doesn't mean you're my… my girlfriend now, does it? Like… officially?" He finally looked up at me, his eyes wide, hopeful, and utterly terrified, as if asking a question that held the fate of the world.
My own cheeks instantly flushed hot, mirroring his. Girlfriend? Officially? The words felt enormous, monumental, completely out of place in our chaotic, dangerous lives. We were children forged in fire and loss, training to survive a world that wanted us dead or broken. The concept of "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" seemed like something from a different universe, a fairytale from a peaceful island that no longer existed.
And yet…
Looking at his earnest, hopeful, terrified face, at the genuine emotion shining in his eyes, the word didn't feel quite so alien. It felt… warm. It felt like the missing piece to the strange, fluttery puzzle that had taken up residence in my chest ever since that accidental kiss. It felt like the unspoken truth finally being given a name, however clumsy and childish.
A slow smile spread across my face, a genuine, heartfelt smile that chased away the last vestiges of my own embarrassment. I reached out, my fingers gently brushing against his cheek, which was still burning hot. He flinched slightly at the touch, his eyes widening, but he didn't pull away.
"Of course it does, Luffy," I said softly, my voice laced with an affection that surprised even myself. I leaned in a little closer, my gaze meeting his, holding it steady. "You're mine now. And I'm yours." I punctuated the words with a small, teasing wink, feeling a thrill of boldness I hadn't known I possessed. "Got it, Captain?"
His eyes, if possible, grew even wider. Then, a slow, dawning grin spread across his face, a grin so wide and radiant it seemed to light up the entire clearing. "SHISHISHISHI!" He laughed, his familiar, joyful sound echoing through the night, no longer laced with confusion or embarrassment, but with pure, unadulterated happiness. He grabbed my hand, his grip strong and warm. "Yosh! Girlfriend! I got a girlfriend!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, looking like he might just stretch his arms around the entire mountain in a celebratory hug.
The awkwardness vanished completely, replaced by a comfortable, exciting new understanding. We didn't need grand pronouncements or elaborate rituals. It was just… us. Luffy and Akane. Akane and Luffy. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.
One Year Later…
The seasons on Mt. Colubo had cycled through their relentless rhythm. Summer's oppressive heat had given way to autumn's fiery colours, then to winter's biting chill (which made Garp's training even more unbearable, involving sprints through knee-deep snow and ice-water plunges), and finally, back to the burgeoning warmth and vibrant green of spring. A full year had passed under Garp Ji-san's "indefinite extension" of hellish training. A year of sweat, blood, bruises, and the constant, looming presence of the old Marine pushing us far beyond what we thought were our limits.
And we had changed. Oh, how we had changed.
Ace, now a lean, hard fifteen, had shed the last vestiges of boyhood scrawniness. His shoulders were broader, his arms and legs corded with well-defined muscle, a testament to countless hours of hauling rocks, chopping trees, and enduring Garp's relentless sparring. His movements were sharper, faster, his Soru bursts sustained, his Geppo leaps carrying him further, his Tekkai capable of deflecting solid blows, though he still favored his agility and the brutal efficiency of his metal pipe, which now bore even more dents and scratches. The anger still simmered in his dark eyes, but it was more focused now, honed into a steely resolve. He was a young predator, coiled and ready, his sights set firmly on the Grand Line and the freedom it promised.
Luffy, at twelve, was still lanky, still rubbery, but the difference was stark. The playful puppy fat was gone, replaced by lean, whip-cord muscle that rippled beneath his skin when he moved. His Gomu Gomu no attacks, while still often chaotic, now carried a surprising weight, a focused power born of Garp's insistence on "hitting with intent, not just flailing." He could stretch further, snap back faster, his punches carrying a concussive force that could shatter boulders (when he actually hit them). His control over his rubber body was still far from perfect, but he was beginning to understand its true, bizarre potential, thanks to Garp's increasingly creative (and often painful) training methods designed to push the limits of his elasticity and resilience. His grin was still infectious, his optimism unwavering, but there was a new layer of quiet confidence in his eyes, the look of someone who knew, deep down, that he was capable of incredible things.
And me… I, too, was twelve. The "fiery twig" Garp had initially assessed was now tempered steel. I was still small, yes, but the relentless physical conditioning had carved lean muscle onto my frame. My arms and legs were no longer spindly, but strong, capable of delivering surprisingly powerful kicks and punches, of wielding the Kaenken with a speed and precision that had begun to unnerve even Ace during sparring. My Soru was still not as explosive as Ace's, my Geppo less controlled than Luffy's bizarre aerial bounces, but I could manage short bursts of both, enough to evade, to reposition, to surprise. My Kami-e had become almost second nature, my body flowing around attacks with an eerie, paper-like grace, much to Garp's grudging approval.
The Tenshi Tenshi no Mi, Model: Michael, remained my greatest mystery and my most potent weapon. The defensive light shield was stronger now, more focused, capable of absorbing significant impacts. I'd learned, through countless hours of secret meditation and experimentation away from Garp's prying eyes, to consciously draw upon its healing properties, mending minor cuts and bruises with a warm, golden glow. I could even manifest small, shimmering wings of pure light for brief, uncontrolled bursts of flight, more like guided falls than true Geppo, but it was a start. The full power of an Archangel, however, the divine judgment and holy wrath Garp had hinted at, remained dormant, a sleeping giant I was both terrified and desperate to awaken. The Kaenken, the Flame Sword, felt like an extension of my arm now, its heat a familiar comfort, its burning touch a swift and effective deterrent in our increasingly brutal spars.
The bond between the three of us had solidified into something unbreakable, forged in shared hardship, whispered confessions under moonlight, and the constant, looming threat of Garp Ji-san's next insane training exercise. We were a team, a family, a chaotic, mismatched pack of wolves being raised by a slightly deranged, incredibly powerful lion.
One crisp morning, after a particularly grueling session focused on mastering the finer points of Rankyaku, the Tempest Kick (which mostly involved us kicking chunks out of the unfortunate landscape and occasionally each other), Garp called a halt. He stood before us, arms crossed, surveying us with that familiar, critical gaze. But this time, there was something different in his eyes, a flicker of… satisfaction? Pride, even?
"Alright, brats," he said, his voice unusually subdued, lacking its usual booming quality. "That's enough."
We looked at him, wary. 'Enough' from Garp usually meant 'enough for the next five minutes before I think of something worse.'
But he continued, his gaze sweeping over Ace's hardened frame, Luffy's newfound muscularity, and my own lean, tempered form. "A year," he said, almost to himself. "A full year of my undivided attention." He grunted. "You're still idiots. Still reckless. Still got a long way to go before you're anything more than glorified troublemakers."
He paused, a slow, almost reluctant smile touching his lips. "But…" he admitted, "you're not twigs anymore. You've got muscle. You've got grit. You can take a punch. And maybe, just maybe," he conceded, "you might even be able to throw one back that actually hurts something other than your own knuckles."
He looked directly at me. "So, Akane," he said, his eyes twinkling with that old, familiar mischief. "Ready to learn that Galaxy Impact now? Think that scrawny body of yours can finally handle it?"
The question, the one I had begged him for a year ago, hung in the air. The Galaxy Impact. The ultimate expression of Garp's power. The destructive force that could shatter islands.
I met his gaze, a newfound confidence, born of a year of brutal training and quiet self-discovery, steeling my spine. I thought of the Tenshi fruit, its dormant power. I thought of the Kaenken, its burning promise. I thought of my own path, the one that led towards a reckoning with the World Government, a path that needed my own strength, my own techniques, not borrowed ones.
A small, determined smile touched my lips. "No thanks, Jii-san," I said, my voice clear and steady. "I'm not going to do that."
Garp raised an eyebrow, surprised. Ace and Luffy looked at me, equally startled.
"I want my own techniques," I continued, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of the Kaenken. "Techniques born from my own anger, my own fruit, my own fire." I looked at him, my gaze unwavering. "The Galaxy Impact is yours. I'll find my own way to make them pay."
I took a breath, a surge of unexpected boldness coursing through me. "And I think," I added, my smile widening, "it's about time you returned to your duty, Jii-san. Properly this time." I gestured around at the three of us, at the mountain that had become our crucible. "I think we can handle ourselves now."
Garp stared at me, his expression unreadable for a long moment. The wind rustled through the leaves, the only sound in the clearing. Ace and Luffy held their breath, waiting for the explosion, for the old man's inevitable outburst.
Then, slowly, a wide, proud, almost… gentle grin spread across Garp's weathered face. He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed through the mountains, but this time, it wasn't laced with teasing or sadistic glee. It was filled with something that sounded remarkably like… approval.
"BWAHAHAHAHA!" he roared, slapping his knee. "Handle yourselves, eh? Finally growing some backbone, are ya, brat?!" He looked at me, his eyes shining with a fierce, undeniable pride. "Good! That's what I wanted to hear!"
He sobered slightly, his grin softening. "Alright then, Akane Kazehaya," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Your own techniques, huh? I expect them to be spectacular." He winked. "Just try not to accidentally blow up any friendly islands in the process."
He turned, clapping Ace and Luffy on their shoulders, nearly sending them sprawling. "You hear that, you two? She's kicking me out! After all I've done for you ungrateful brats!" He chuckled, then his expression grew serious again.
"The world out there," he said, his voice dropping, his gaze sweeping over the three of us, "it's a dangerous place. Full of monsters, real ones, not just the oversized lizards on this mountain." He looked pointedly at me. "And some of those monsters will be looking for you, Akane. For what you carry. For what you represent."
He took a deep breath, the weight of his own knowledge, his own burdens, settling on his broad shoulders. "But," he continued, a fierce light returning to his eyes, "you're not alone anymore. You've got each other." His gaze softened as it rested on Luffy, then Ace, then me. "And maybe, just maybe, you've got enough fire, enough rubber, and enough sheer, stubborn idiocy between the three of you to actually shake things up."
He started to walk away, towards the path leading down the mountain, his footsteps heavy on the earth. He didn't look back. He didn't offer any more words of wisdom or warning. He just walked, a solitary, aging lion leaving his pride to fend for themselves.
We watched him go, a mixture of relief, apprehension, and a strange, undeniable sadness settling over us. The mountain felt suddenly quieter, emptier, without his booming voice and oppressive presence.
Just as he reached the edge of the clearing, where the trees began to thicken, he paused, his back still to us. He didn't turn.
"One more thing," he said, his voice carrying back to us, low and rough, almost a whisper.
"Akane."
I tensed, my heart pounding. What now?
"That… that Sunstone Heart your grandpa gave you…" Garp continued, his voice strained, heavy with an unspoken emotion. "The truths it whispers… some of them… some of them might even surprise an old dog like me." He was silent for a moment, then added, his voice barely audible, "Be careful who you share them with."