Finn leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the armrest as he considered Crocodile's situation. After a long moment, he exhaled and nodded toward Hina. "Fine. We'll leave him alone for now."
Let the sand bastard wander around a bit longer. Once the Marines found a suitable Warlord candidate to fill the quota, they could free up resources to deal with him properly.
Honestly, if Rosinante had shown even a fraction of the growth Finn had hoped for, he'd already be planning to extract him from the Donquixote Family and slot him into one of the Seven Warlords positions. The man had the pedigree, the connections, and the operational experience. What he lacked was raw strength, and in this world, that mattered more than anything.
Another miscalculation, Finn thought with mild irritation. Not everyone grows at the same rate, even with the right opportunities.
"Oh! By the way, Admiral," Hina suddenly straightened, her eyes widening as if she'd just remembered something critical. "The Fleet Admiral wants you in the conference room."
Finn's head snapped toward her, expression flat. "You're telling me this now? How is that not the first thing you say when you walk in?"
"Hehehe…" Hina scratched the back of her head, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Hina forgot."
Finn sighed, already gathering the scattered reports on his desk. He stacked them neatly, tapping the edges against the wood to align them before setting the pile down. Rising from his seat, he reached for the white Admiral's coat draped over the hanger beside him and slung it across his shoulders, the kanji for "Justice" catching the afternoon light streaming through the window.
"What's the meeting about?" he asked, adjusting the collar.
"Instructor Zephyr," Hina replied quickly, her tone more serious now. "The Fleet Admiral said you'd know what it's regarding."
"Ah." Finn's expression softened, just slightly. "That."
He turned toward the door, coat billowing behind him. "Let's go."
Hina perked up immediately, falling into step beside him. "Can Hina come too?"
Finn glanced at her sidelong, one brow raised. "When we get there, keep your head down. Serve tea, pour water, and pay attention. You're there to learn, not to talk."
As a Marine Captain, Hina had no formal clearance for a meeting of this level. Hell, even most Rear Admirals wouldn't qualify. But as Finn's personal secretary, she occupied a nebulous space in the hierarchy, one that granted her certain privileges. Finn had always made a point of bringing her along when he could, letting her observe how the upper echelons operated. It was an investment, one that would pay dividends down the line.
Besides, the old guard liked her well enough. She had a sharp mind, a respectful demeanor, and she didn't waste anyone's time. That went a long way at Marineford.
They moved through the corridors of headquarters in comfortable silence, the sound of their boots echoing off the stone walls. As they neared the meeting room, Finn spotted two familiar figures ahead.
"Hey, Kuzan!" Finn called out, grinning. "Or wait, should I say Admiral Candidate Kuzan? Getting fancy on me now, huh?"
Kuzan turned, his usual lazy expression firmly in place. He had one hand shoved in his pocket, the other hanging loosely at his side. "I'm heading to the meeting. What's it look like?"
"Uh…" Finn's grin faltered as his gaze dropped lower. Trailing behind Kuzan was a small boy with messy black hair and bright, curious eyes. On Garp's shoulders sat an older girl, her legs dangling on either side of the Vice Admiral's neck, hands gripping his hair for balance.
Finn's eye twitched. "You're going to the meeting like this? With two kids in tow?"
The boy was unmistakably Ace, nearly six years old now and bursting with energy. Finn had watched him grow from a squalling infant into a precocious, sharp-witted child who never seemed to sit still. The girl perched on Garp's shoulders was Nojiko, a few months older and already developing the no-nonsense attitude of an eldest sibling. She ruled over Ace, Luffy, and Nami with an iron fist, a miniature drill sergeant in training.
Ace tilted his head up, puffing out his chest. "Uncle Finn! I'm going to be a Marine Admiral one day! What's wrong with me attending a meeting now?"
Garp barked out a laugh, slapping his knee. "That's right! The boy's got ambition! Why shouldn't he sit in?"
Finn rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on. "Vice Admiral Garp, you're asking to get thrown out, aren't you? I'm sneaking Hina in through the back door, and you're parading these two around like it's bring-your-grandkids-to-work day."
The rolling blade of the Marines, Finn thought dryly. Gets more brazen with every passing year.
Garp waved him off, utterly unconcerned. "Nah, nah. Kong likes 'em both just fine. Right, Nojiko?"
"That's right!" Nojiko chirped from her perch, grinning down at Finn. "The Fleet Admiral thinks I'm very polite!"
"Oh?" Finn looked up at her, amused despite himself. "And what about you, little miss? You planning to join the Marines too?"
Nojiko shook her head firmly, hands still tangled in Garp's hair. "Nope! I'm gonna take over Bell-mère's tavern and be the best proprietress in Marineford! I'm just here to see if Ace has what it takes to be a Marine. If he doesn't, I'll make him my bouncer!"
"I'm not gonna be a bouncer!" Ace shot back, glaring at her. "I'm gonna be an Admiral!"
Finn couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled up from his chest, quiet at first, then louder. The absurdity of it, the son of the Pirate King standing in the halls of Marine Headquarters, shouting about his dream to become an Admiral, it was too much. And yet, beneath the humor, there was something deeply satisfying about it.
That's right, kid. Why the hell would you want to be a pirate when you could be on the right side of history?
"Yes, yes! Ace is going to be the greatest Admiral the Marines have ever seen!" Garp declared, his voice thick with pride.
Finn could see it in the old man's eyes. Ever since Dragon had gone rogue, Garp had poured everything into these kids. Luffy was still too young, barely three and more interested in eating bugs than anything else. But Ace? Ace was sharp, driven, and more importantly, he idolized the Marines. Garp treated him like a second chance, a way to redeem the bloodline of Gol D. Roger through service and honor.
Rest in peace, Roger, Finn thought wryly. Your son's going to hunt pirates for a living.
Still, Finn knew better than to let Garp get away with this. He turned to Hina and gestured toward the kids. "Hina, take these two downstairs. Find Momonga or someone and let them keep the brats entertained. Then get back here and help with the tea."
"Yes, Admiral!" Hina snapped to attention, already moving toward Nojiko.
Garp opened his mouth to protest, but Finn cut him off with a sharp look. "This meeting is about Instructor Zephyr. Keep your personal and professional lives separate, old man. You don't want Kong and the others forming a bad impression of Ace before he's even old enough to enlist, do you?"
That stopped Garp cold. He blinked, then slowly nodded, his grin fading into something more subdued. "You're right. Got ahead of myself."
He reached up and carefully lifted Nojiko off his shoulders, handing her over to Hina. The girl went without complaint, though she shot Ace a smug look as she was carried away.
Ace, however, was not going quietly. He darted around Kuzan's legs, voice rising in indignation. "But I'm the future Admiral! Why can't I go to the meeting?!"
Hina's patience snapped like a dry twig. She'd known these kids since they were in diapers, and she wasn't about to let a six-year-old slow her down. Without hesitation, she delivered a swift kick to Ace's backside, sending him sprawling.
"Just because I haven't smacked you in three days doesn't mean you're tough now!" she barked, hoisting Nojiko higher on her hip. "Get moving, or I'll tell your mom you were being a brat!"
Ace froze. His defiance crumbled instantly, replaced by wide-eyed terror. Hina had a special relationship with Bell-mère, practically sisters, and that meant she had full disciplinary authority. Worse, she'd used it. Many times.
He scrambled to his feet and followed her without another word, his earlier bravado completely deflated.
Finn watched them go, shaking his head. "You didn't even try to stop her."
Kuzan shrugged, utterly unbothered. "You think I can talk sense into Garp? I don't have that kind of pull."
"Fair enough."
The three of them continued down the corridor, their footsteps echoing in the quiet. When they finally reached the conference room, Finn pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The space was modest but functional, centered around a large round table. Vice Admiral Tsuru sat near the window, hands folded gracefully as she prepared a pot of tea with the precision of a tea ceremony master. Across from her, Instructor Zephyr sat with a lit cigar clamped between his teeth, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. Admiral Sengoku and Fleet Admiral Kong were conspicuously absent, but in the far corner, Borsalino lounged in a chair, trimming his nails with a small clipper.
Finn crossed the room in three long strides and plucked the cigar straight out of Zephyr's mouth.
"Instructor," he said flatly, holding the cigar up like evidence in a court case. "You have asthma. What are you doing?"
Zephyr didn't even flinch. If anything, he looked amused. "It's been years since I've had one. Figured since I'm retiring today, I'd allow myself a final smoke."
Finn hesitated, the cigar still pinched between his fingers. Zephyr's expression was calm, almost wistful. This wasn't about rebellion or recklessness. It was a ritual, a quiet farewell to the life he'd lived.
After a moment, Finn handed it back. "Just this once."
"Don't worry," Zephyr said, taking a slow drag. "I know my limits."
Finn turned his attention to Borsalino, who was still focused intently on his nails. "Well, well. Look who decided to show his face. What brings you back to headquarters, busy man?"
Borsalino glanced up, his expression languid and faintly amused. "Ohhh, Admiral Finn. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"
"Still talking like that, huh?" Finn smirked. "Some things never change."
Borsalino set the clippers aside and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Some matters require the attention of you bigwigs back here at headquarters. Can't handle everything from Punk Hazard, you know."
"What's the issue?" Finn asked, genuinely curious now.
"Bartholomew Kuma," Borsalino said simply. "One of the Seven Warlords. He's been asking to stay at Punk Hazard on a more permanent basis. The Fleet Admiral told me to keep an eye on him, but I think this situation needs a proper discussion."
Finn nodded slowly, filing that away. Kuma's motivations were always opaque, layered beneath that unreadable expression and his bizarre sense of duty. If he wanted access to Punk Hazard, there was a reason. Whether that reason aligned with Marine interests remained to be seen.
"What's the Science Unit working on these days?" Finn asked, shifting gears. "Anything interesting?"
Borsalino scratched his chin thoughtfully. "There's a draft proposal for some kind of war weapon. Still in the early stages. No major breakthroughs yet."
The Pacifistas, Finn thought immediately. It made sense. A project like that would take over a decade to refine and deploy. If they were just starting now, the timeline fit.
"What about artificial Devil Fruits?" Finn pressed. "Any progress there?"
Borsalino's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something more serious crossing his face. "Kaido was released two days ago. Did you hear?"
Finn's eyes narrowed. "I did. What about it?"
"There's a connection to Dr. Vegapunk," Borsalino said carefully. "Something about artificial Devil Fruit research. CP-0 has been going back and forth to Punk Hazard for the past week, and Kaido's name keeps coming up. I don't know the details."
Finn frowned. "You're the Supreme Commander of Punk Hazard and the head of the Science Unit. How do you not know?"
Borsalino spread his hands, unbothered. "There's a lot I don't know, Finn. I'm not a scientist. And when CP-0 shows up with orders from above, I don't ask questions. That's not my job."
He paused, then added, "In research, the worst thing you can do is have an amateur trying to direct the experts. I keep the place secure and make sure results get delivered on time. Everything else? That's Vegapunk's domain."
"Sounds like you've got the cushiest job in the Marines," Finn said dryly. "Punk Hazard doesn't even have a magnetic field. Nobody can find it unless they already know where it is. You're basically clocking in, drinking tea, taking naps, and clocking out. Must be nice."
Borsalino shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. "Why are you calling me out like this?"
Finn laughed, loud and genuine. "Because it's true!"
Before Borsalino could retort, the door opened again, and Hina slipped back inside. She didn't even glance at Finn, moving directly to Tsuru and taking the teapot from her hands with a respectful nod. She began pouring cups for everyone, her movements efficient and practiced.
A few moments later, the door opened once more. Admiral Sengoku and Fleet Admiral Kong entered, both carrying thick stacks of documents and speaking to each other in low, urgent tones.
The meeting was about to begin.
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