"I wouldn't like that demon blade at all!"
Gion's cheeks flushed slightly as though Darren had just exposed some carefully hidden thought.
She lifted her chin proudly, hand resting on the hilt of her golden blade.
"My Konpira is one of the Twenty-One Great Grade Blades!"
Darren couldn't help but laugh.
"Alright, alright—I know you're impressive."
If he remembered correctly, that Konpira blade was a gift from Vice Admiral Tsuru for Gion's fifteenth birthday.
At just fifteen years old, to wield one of the world's greatest swords… it was like a teenager on Earth being given the keys to a limited-edition Lamborghini—one of only twenty-one in existence.
It really put everything in perspective.
At fifteen, what had he been wielding?
Probably a toilet brush, cleaning the latrines.
Still, there was a reason he wouldn't let Gion touch Enma.
Given her current strength, she was nowhere near ready to tame Enma's wild, overwhelming power. A single misstep could have it drain her Haki to nothing, threatening even her life.
Gion gave a little huff, but curiosity got the better of her. She turned her gaze to the motionless black blade, eyes sparkling.
"How did you summon it here?"
Darren gave her a sly smile.
"Did you forget about my Devil Fruit ability?"
He winked at her playfully.
"By now, I'd say I'm practically half a swordmaster myself."
"You? A swordmaster?"
Gion looked at him as though he'd just cracked the worst joke in the world, her voice dripping with scorn:
"Your strength is impressive, I'll give you that. But you don't know the first thing about swordsmanship."
Darren merely shrugged.
"Since when do you need to know swordsmanship to use a sword?"
He stepped closer, and before she could react, his arm slid around her waist. In the same breath, he planted a foot atop Enma's blade.
"You… you wouldn't dare…"
Gion's eyes went wide, realizing just what he was about to do.
"That's a priceless treasure—!"
"Hold on tight!"
Boom!
Under the force of Darren's magnetic field, the two of them shot skyward, balanced precariously atop the legendary demon blade.
One minute later.
They landed in a deserted corner of Marineford's abandoned harbor, the night air thick with salt and the hush of distant waves.
"You reckless bastard! You don't respect the blade at all!"
Gion was practically spitting with rage, glaring at the way Darren treated Enma as if it were just another tool.
"You've no idea what it cost me to make it obey," Darren said, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
Knowing she wouldn't get anywhere arguing with him, Gion finally gave a huff and turned to take in their surroundings.
The night was intoxicatingly beautiful. Before them stretched the endless sea, moonlight flickering across the waves like a river of stars.
Far away, the civilian quarter sparkled with light and laughter, a world away from the quiet solitude of this empty dock.
"What did you bring me here for?"
Gion frowned, suspicious.
"It's New Year's Eve. Thought you might want to see the fireworks."
Darren gave her a warm smile.
"But the fireworks are all back in the civilian district. There's nothing here—"
She didn't get to finish the sentence.
In that instant, the far horizon lit up with a burst of fiery orange.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
One after another, bright orange flares bloomed against the inky sky, raining down like long shimmering ribbons of fire. The dark world was bathed in color and light.
"This is…"
Gion's eyes went wide in disbelief. She squinted to see, and realized that in the darkness, shells loaded in the old artillery emplacements were arcing up into the night—each one bursting into a blossom of fire.
She turned to look at Darren, stunned.
Tiny arcs of electricity flickered at his fingertips.
These fireworks… he'd created them himself, manipulating the shells into a dazzling display.
Gion stared at him, her heart caught in her throat.
The fireworks burned bright.
But in that moment, the Marine commodore's smile was even more dazzling than the sky.
"Happy New Year."
Darren's voice was soft, tinged with laughter.
"Don't get mad at me for wasting military resources. This port's been abandoned for years—these shells were just gathering dust…"
He didn't get to finish. Warm lips pressed against his in a sudden, breathless kiss.
It was like a spark, a firestorm.
"Take me."
Gion's ragged whisper trembled against his lips.
Darren's mind went blank, the words stuttering on his tongue.
"Uh… I still need to get back—"
Gion's fingers dug into his side, her voice low and fierce:
"Are you even a man?"
Darren blinked.
Then he clenched his jaw.
And in the next moment, he bent down, pulling her into a deeper, searing kiss.
Above them, the shells burst and flared like falling stars.
The ocean stretched out, vast and endless. Two white fish leapt from the water, tails flicking up silver waves that rippled across the sea.
…
No one knew how much time passed.
On the deserted edge of the harbor, the fireworks had long since faded, leaving only the eternal murmur of the waves.
A man and woman sat together on the pier, clothes scattered carelessly around them.
Darren's broad, scarred chest was bare to the cold night air, a cigarette clutched between his lips.
Gion sat quietly beside him, wrapped in his cloak, gazing out across the dark water.
The salty breeze tugged at her hair. Her long, pale legs dangled over the edge, white high-heeled sandals slipping from her feet, delicate toes exposed to the night.
"So… what does this make us?"
Her voice was quiet, edged with a shy tremor, a lingering flush still warming her cheeks.
Darren let out a long breath, smoke curling from his lips.
He knew there could be no hesitation in his answer. His voice was firm, unyielding:
"Be my woman."
He crushed the cigarette under his heel and reached out to gently cradle her face.
"I like you."
Gion's cheeks bloomed crimson, her heart hammering in her chest. She bit her lip, forcing out a half-playful, half-nervous retort:
"You're sure about that?"
"I'm sure."
Darren's answer was immediate, unwavering.
"Hmph! I have a sharp tongue and a bad temper."
Gion snorted.
Darren: …
Alright. Women really did hold grudges.
"In my eyes, those are just some of your most endearing traits."
The words slipped out of him with an easy grin.
Gion pouted, but her voice had softened.
"Che… I don't believe a word that comes out of your mouth."
But she didn't pull away.
Darren just laughed and took her hand.
"Come on. Let me take you home."
Gion arched an eyebrow, voice dripping with frost:
"And then? You're going to run right back to your perfect, gentle wife?"
"Uh…"
Darren's lips twitched.
Before he could answer, Gion was on him again.
Her strong legs wrapped around his waist, pinning him down.
She loomed over him, her eyes burning with a fierce, competitive light.
"I won't let you go so easily."
"Wait—"
Darren's face drained of color.
…
An hour later.
Darren limped back into the Officers' Residential Compound, one hand braced against the wall for support, a wry grimace twisting his lips.
He pushed the door open, only for his face to freeze.
Amatsuki Toki stood poised before a screen, draped in a pink kimono adorned with cherry blossoms, her smile warm and welcoming.
(🌸 Bellion001: Should I perhaps be writing her name as "Rogers Toki" instead? (≧◡≦)✿)
"Welcome home, my dear. Let me take care of you tonight."
Darren's face went slack for a moment.
Then, with an awkward smile that was more grimace than grin, he managed a single word:
"…Alright."
---
To be continued…