c13 – Arriving at the Navy Headquarters
The little ghost dashed back to the cabin like a squirrel fleeing from a fox, clutching the scroll Madara had given her as if it were the last poneglyph on earth.
"Master said never to let Vice Admiral Garp see this… or someone might actually die."
She locked the door, yanked the curtains shut, dove under her blanket, and cautiously unfurled the scroll beneath the covers like it contained a forbidden Buster Call order.
A soft imaginary glow shimmered as she opened it golden in her mind, divine in her eyes.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
What greeted her was a sea of tightly packed text, diagrams of chakra pathways, handwritten notes on hand seal formation, meticulous annotations detailing timing sequences, seal orders, and elemental affinities.
Xiao Gion's brain froze.
"What… are these symbols? Why are there so many words?! Why is there a theory section?!"
She looked at the scroll like a rookie marine mistaking an S-Rank mission report for a children's book. The complexity hit her like Zoro reading an inverted map.
"Uuuu~! It's too hard! General Gion made a big mistake!"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Since Gion started her ninjutsu training, Madara had largely let her learn independently—only observing in the first few days to ensure there were no major errors. When it came to Taijutsu, the trio of Garp, Zefa, and Sengoku had it covered, and honestly, he didn't feel like fighting with Garp over a training schedule.
Now, standing on the second-floor balcony with the salty wind brushing against his face, Madara allowed himself a rare smile.
No Garp? No headache. Pure bliss.
"Now arriving at Marineford! All personnel, prepare for orderly disembarkation!"
The gangway slowly descended.
Gion stood beside Uchiha Madara, nervously grabbing the edge of his sleeve, stealing glances to see if he was in a bad mood. Once she was certain his expression remained cold but not furious, she got bold enough to sneak her tiny hand into his.
Her soft fingers grabbed Madara's calloused palm.
He stiffened slightly, glanced down at her. Surprisingly, he didn't shake her off. He let her hold on.
"Hey, Master, Master—wanna go to my favorite drink shop?" she chirped. "We can even sneak tea from Aunt He's stash! It's gross, but Aunt He guards it like a treasure, so it must be good, right? Garp never succeeded in stealing any."
She beamed. "Oh! And there's this amazing weapons shop on the commerce street—they've got real Grade swords, like those from the 21 Ō Wazamono class! But the shopkeeper's a stingy crab. He never lets me touch them. I can only look from far away. Hmph! I hate him!"
"And—and you can come see my school too! I have tons of kouhai, but there's this annoying boy named Chafu who keeps teasing me! He's such a weirdo…"
The words tumbled from her lips like Usopp spinning tall tales—rapid, wild, animated.
It was as if all the emotions bottled up during the voyage had suddenly burst now that she was home.
Madara simply walked beside her, listening in silence. He already had her memories—but this, this cheerful, babbling child speaking from the heart, felt more genuine than any memory.
Then, as they reached the end of the gangway, Madara felt something strange.
Among the flood of navy officers and civilian staff awaiting their arrival, one figure stood out: a tall, imposing woman, eyes sharp, posture rigid, exuding a hostile aura that cut through the crowd like Mihawk's sword.
Madara frowned slightly. This was his first time at the Navy Headquarters. Why was she looking at him like he had stolen her treasure?
Still, he was Uchiha Madara.
Being stared at like a common criminal? He wasn't about to stoop down and ask what her problem was.
A second later, his aura surged.
It was subtle at first—like a breeze before a storm. Then it exploded.
Chakra and killing intent fused into a monstrous presence that rolled out across the square, overwhelming and furious. The kind of power that once silenced entire armies during the Fourth Great Ninja War now crashed down on the Navy like a tidal wave.
The woman's face blanched. Her knees buckled slightly. She gritted her teeth and responded instinctively, unleashing her Busoshoku Haki to resist.
And she wasn't alone.
Across the square, more and more officers and elite soldiers flared their own Haoshoku and combat presence, creating a desperate bulwark against Madara's crushing aura.
Madara smirked.
"A welcome party? Naïve. But I admit… kind of fun."
If Madara's aura was that of a predator unleashed—a tailed beast breaking free—then the Navy's collective resistance was that of a trained battalion holding formation against a natural disaster. They barely held equilibrium.
But then—it escalated.
Madara's true pressure descended like judgment from the heavens: overwhelming chakra mixed with pure battle-hardened killing intent, sharpened by decades of war, wrapped in the divine arrogance of a god who'd once challenged the Sage of Six Paths.
Even Gion, standing right beside him and shielded by his residual chakra cloak, went pale. Her legs wobbled. Cold sweat formed on her brow. She hugged Madara's arm like a lifeline in a storm.
Madara, who had originally planned to continue his devastating release of chakra-infused killing intent, suddenly halted the expansion of his aura the moment he saw Gion's terrified expression beside him.
Even with the sudden restraint, ordinary marines in the area were being thrown around like discarded paper on a stormy day—tossed by the sheer force of the residual shockwaves, as if hit by a Tailed Beast Bomb.
"Madara!!!"
Sengoku, Garp, and Zefa immediately moved into action. Like three ancient guardians, they radiated Haoshoku Haki and battle intent to counteract the oppressive spiritual pressure rolling off Madara. Their energies clashed against his like mountains holding back a tsunami.
Madara's Rinnegan flickered slightly as he coldly surveyed the three high-ranking legends of the Navy now standing in his way. He let out a breath and withdrew his chakra with an unreadable expression, letting the tension drop.
Still holding Gion's hand, he took slow, measured steps forward—his sandal brushing the stone-paved square as he approached the source of the earlier provocation: the stern, hawk-eyed woman who had stared him down without fear.
"Little ghost," Madara said in a low voice that rumbled like distant thunder, "did no one teach you to rein in your killing intent?"
The woman, Vice Admiral Tsuru, who had recovered her posture and donned the aura of steel discipline, looked straight at him without blinking. She was a battlefield veteran—her willpower honed over decades of chasing pirates like Donquixote Doflamingo and Big Mom's agents. She stood her ground.
Madara narrowed his eyes. She wasn't backing down.
He started raising his hand—whether to strike or merely test her reaction, no one knew. But the moment his fingers began to lift, Gion leapt forward and hugged his arm tightly, startling everyone.
"Master! Don't bully Sister He!!!"
Madara's raised arm froze mid-air.
"Sister… He?" His brows drew together in faint surprise. This woman was the same "Aunt He" Gion spoke of—the tea-loving, strict guardian she always mentioned?
Judging by her youthful face and slender frame, she couldn't be more than thirty. Yet Gion spoke of her with the reverence of someone speaking about an elder. Tsuru certainly didn't look her age—nearing forty, like Garp, Sengoku, and Zefa.
Madara had assumed from Gion's descriptions that Tsuru would resemble an older kunoichi like Chiyo or Koharu. This unexpected youthfulness threw him off for a second.
But the people around him weren't privy to his internal monologue. Seeing the tension, Sengoku rushed forward and placed a firm hand on Madara's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation.
"Mr. Madara, please calm down. There's just a bit of misunderstanding here."
He quickly explained, "Gion was staying at Vice Admiral Tsuru's residence before she… well… snuck aboard during the mission to Rogue Town. Naturally, as her guardian, Tsuru was extremely worried. She wasn't trying to target you personally."
Garp chimed in, his usual boisterous demeanor slightly strained by panic.
"Exactly! The little brat didn't report in when she got off the ship, and Tsuru couldn't reach her via Den Den Mushi! Anyone would get mad in her shoes!"
Sengoku and Garp both remembered all too well what had happened when Golden Lion Shiki rampaged at Marineford. Madara letting loose here would've been far worse.
Uchiha Madara's gaze shifted from one man to the other, then back to Tsuru. There was a pause—a beat of awkward silence.
"…It seems I misjudged the situation," he said finally, his voice flat but not hostile. "I will be more considerate next time. You should do the same."
Tsuru, who had been silently fuming, gave him a glare sharp enough to slice steel. More considerate next time? You caused all this! And now you're blaming me?!
But she had no time to argue. Her priority was Gion.
With a swift motion, she grabbed Gion by the ear and slung her over her shoulder like a bag of rice. Gion yelped in protest, flailing, but Tsuru ignored her, striding off with a stormy expression and sparing a final death-glare at Garp and Sengoku for letting this all happen.
Madara, unfazed, turned to Sengoku. "Take me to the Konoha settlement."
Sengoku, sweating lightly, nodded and gestured for him to follow.
After they left, the few marines still standing—those not knocked unconscious by Madara's aura—began to clean up the debris and tend to the injured.
Among them, a tall, thin young man scratched his head and walked over to Garp.
"Yo, Mr. Garp… who the hell was that guy just now? That aura felt like the gates of Impel Down Level 6 had opened."
The man was none other than Kuzan (Aokiji), already a promising marine but still a bit of a slacker.
Garp rubbed his own head and sighed heavily.
"Him? He's… a righteous man. A warrior who follows his own brand of justice, heh heh heh." He gave Kuzan a sharp look. "Listen up, kid—don't mess with him. If you do, even someone like you might end up in traction."
Kuzan's eye twitched. "Tch, you serious?"
"Oi, Kuzan!! The old man's talking to you! Don't just stand there looking like a salted fish!"
Before Kuzan could blink, Garp's massive fist hammered down on his head.
"Gah! It hurts, Garp-san!"
"Shut up! You damn lazy brat!!!"
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