Early chapters on Pátreon.com/Herd99.
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The ship glided into Marineford's harbor with the ease of something long used to routine.
To the Marines aboard, it was a return to the center of the world's order—a fortress of justice perched between power and peace. Towering white walls encircled the base, a sharp contrast to the blue sky above and the endless sea behind. Cannons lined the perimeter. Flags whipped in the wind. Seagulls circled above, squawking in lazy spirals.
To Kain, it looked… exhausting.
He stood near the gangplank with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, posture unapologetically casual. He hadn't even bothered to change into a formal coat. His uniform shirt hung open at the collar, the sleeves lazily rolled. The smell of salt clung to him after weeks at sea, but he didn't seem to mind.
"Marineford," he muttered, stepping off the ship.
The ground beneath his boots was solid, sun-warmed stone. Around him, the base was alive. Marines marched in perfect lines across drill yards. Officers barked commands. Cargo was being loaded onto warships. Sword clashes rang out from a sparring pit nearby, followed by a sharp "Again!" from an instructor.
Kain barely glanced at it.
He didn't care.
Not about the noise, not about the urgency, and certainly not about the politics that buzzed like flies behind every salute.
All he wanted was to find his assigned quarters, collapse on a bunk, and not wake up for the next twelve hours.
But as with everything in his life lately, the universe seemed determined to interrupt him at every possible opportunity.
He barely made it past the first courtyard when he noticed them.
A small formation of high-ranking officers heading straight for him.
He slowed his pace—reluctantly. At the front was Fleet Admiral Sengoku, the white of his uniform as crisp as his expression.
Cradled in one arm was a goat gnawing on some poor soul's paperwork.
Beside him stood Zephyr—or Instructor Z, as Kain still thought of him given he and Smoker had been trained by him—his dark coat flapping with every firm step, mechanical arm glinting in the sunlight.
And trailing behind, of course, was Vice Admiral Garp, chewing on a rice cracker like he was out for a stroll.
Kain sighed.
So much for slipping under the radar.
He stood at ease as they stopped in front of him.
"Captain Kain," Sengoku said, voice even but firm. "Welcome to Marineford."
Kain gave a half-hearted salute, eyes half-lidded. "Fleet Admiral. Instructor Z. Vice Admiral Garp. To what do I owe the pleasure of this... warm welcome?"
The goat let out a soft bleat.
Zephyr's face didn't shift. "Still as insufferable as ever."
Garp grinned wide, cramming another cracker into his mouth. "Heh. I kinda missed this kid."
Kain glanced over his shoulder, half-hoping someone else would come along and drag him away. No such luck.
Sengoku stepped forward, the goat still nibbling. "You've made quite the impression lately. Calm Belt. Loguetown. Your name's come up a lot."
Kain didn't flinch, but internally he sighed again. He'd worked so hard to do the bare minimum in flashy ways. How had that backfired into attention?
"We felt it best," Sengoku continued, "to personally assess your next assignment."
Kain's shoulders dropped a little more.
Of course. No rest. No nap. No peace.
Just more meetings.
The sun filtered through the tall windows of the Fleet Admiral's office, casting long shadows across polished floors and walls lined with framed maps and commendations. It was the kind of room that whispered authority—quiet, measured, immovable. Every piece of furniture looked like it had been chosen to remind you that you were small.
Kain slouched in a chair like he'd wandered into the wrong place by mistake.
Sengoku sat behind his desk, hands folded, expression unreadable. His goat had taken up residence on a stack of folders, still nibbling. Zephyr stood to the right of the desk, arms crossed over his chest like a statue that had decided to judge you. Garp was leaning against the back wall, tossing a cracker into the air and catching it in his mouth. Crumbs littered the floor around him.
The silence dragged.
"So," Kain finally said, "I take it this isn't just a 'Welcome to the base' kind of meeting."
Zephyr snorted. "You could say that."
Sengoku leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Let's talk plainly, Captain. You're a puzzle. A lazy, unmotivated, inconsistent anomaly who keeps getting results."
Kain shrugged. "We all have our methods."
"Your method Zephyr cut in, "was to sleep through half the classes at the academy, skip morning drills, and somehow still place in the top percentile of every field exam. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is for someone who trains actual soldiers?"
"I didn't ask to be a prodigy," Kain said, matter-of-fact. To be truthful, he blamed the system for his hard work back then. It's main form of motivation was you guessed it, penalties.
Garp cackled from the corner. "Now that's confidence! This kid's better than I thought."
Sengoku's brow twitched. "The problem is, no one knows what to do with you. Your reputation's grown faster than we anticipated. And not everyone is… impressed."
Kain raised an eyebrow. "So let me guess. You brought me here to give me a desk job?"
"No," Sengoku said flatly. "We considered it. But paperwork would probably die of boredom in your hands. Instead, we're giving you a choice."
He pulled out a single sheet of paper and slid it across the desk. Kain picked it up lazily and scanned the names. His eyes skimmed through the list of Vice Admirals: Tsuru, Onigumo, Momonga, Doberman…
Kain tilted the page, squinting at it.
One name was conspicuously missing.
"…Kizaru's not on here," he said.
"Correct," Sengoku said. "We're not pairing you with someone just as lazy."
"He's not lazy," Kain muttered. "He just moves at his own speed."
"Semantics," Zephyr said.
Kain set the page down with a sigh, arms crossed behind his head. "Alright. So you want me to pick my handler. Got it."
"They're not your handler," Sengoku began—
"They're absolutely my handler," Kain interrupted.
Sengoku sighed through his nose.
Zephyr rubbed his temple. "You see what I was dealing with?"
"We're giving you freedom," Sengoku said. "Because if we assign you arbitrarily, you'll resist it. This is your shot. Pick someone you're willing to work under."
Wow, he was not expecting this much consideration.
Kain leaned back farther, chair creaking under him. He stared at the ceiling. This should've been easy. Pick the least intense name, get assigned to some distant post, and nap his way through it.
But something about the list rubbed him the wrong way. Every name reeked of duty. Structure. Expectations.
He didn't want to be managed.
He wanted to be left alone—but when that wasn't possible, he preferred chaos. Predictable people were the worst. They always expected things back.
His eyes flicked toward the man still snacking in the corner.
"What about Vice-Admiral Cracke- I mean Garp?"
That froze the room.
Sengoku blinked. "What?"
"Vice Admiral Garp," Kain repeated. "He's not on the list. Why not?"
Zephyr looked like he'd bitten a lemon. Sengoku looked like he aged five years in five seconds. Even the goat paused mid-chew.
Garp, however, grinned so wide it looked dangerous.
"You want to work with me?" he asked.
Kain tilted his head. "You're unpredictable. You're loud. You're strong enough to punch a cannonball into dust. People avoid you on purpose. That's… kind of perfect."
Zephyr whispered, "This is a mistake."
Sengoku looked at Garp. "You're not supposed to be in this conversation."
Garp clapped a hand on Kain's shoulder so hard it made the chair skid. "Too late! Kid picked me. That's fate!"
On second thought...
Kain winced. "Yep. Definitely making a mistake."
"Don't worry!" Garp laughed. "I'm gonna make a real Marine outta you!"
From behind the desk, Sengoku let his head fall into his hands.