Rear Admiral Gion's quarters were in a relatively quiet corner of the base.
She had just finished her usual meditation and bath, now wrapped in a silk robe as she walked to the window and pushed it open.
A cool night breeze swept in, lifting her still-damp black hair like a waterfall.
She gazed at the bright full moon in the sky, a little lost in thought.
For some reason, she was reminded again of that slash she'd seen on Gigantia the month before—like this moon: cold and clear, weightless and almost devoid of killing intent, yet carrying a sharpness that could cut through anything.
"That level…" she murmured, a flicker of yearning—and unwillingness—crossing her eyes. "When… will I ever reach it?"
The thought left a tightness in her chest.
Gion raised a hand in irritation, running her fingers through her smooth hair.
The strands slid between her fingers like the finest silk, leaving a faint scent of bath soap mixed with her own body fragrance in the cold air.
"So much for sleeping tonight."
She shook her head and decided to go out for a walk, let the chill air settle her wandering thoughts.
Grabbing her sword, Konpira, from its stand, she blurred—and vanished from the room.
She didn't have a destination in mind and just wandered through the quiet, moonlit base.
When she unknowingly turned onto the path behind the kitchens, she suddenly froze.
An intense, bold smell that absolutely shouldn't exist at this hour crashed into her senses.
Not the bland odor of standard mess hall slop, but something… rich with tallow, aggressive spices, and overwhelming umami.
The scent was like a hand dragging up a hunger she shouldn't have felt—and stirring the instincts of a vigilant officer.
"The back kitchen?"
Her brows creased.
At this hour, the kitchen should have been dark and locked.
Who had the nerve to do this?
Her figure flickered, and she moved silently toward the source.
…
"—Who's there!!"
The crisp shout cracked like thunder.
Rain's pupils shrank.
Crap.
He swore inwardly.
The hotpot was too good, the booze hit too well. He'd gotten carried away and let his daily Observation Haki vigilance slack.
That voice… Rear Admiral Gion!
What is this woman doing sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night?!
Rain's mind spun. Instinctively, he prepared to throw all the blame onto Smoker—after all, the man had promised to run interference for him.
But just as he opened his mouth—
Whoosh—
A faint sound of shifting smoke whispered beside him.
Rain jerked his head around, eyes nearly popping out.
Smoker wasn't covering for anyone. The moment he heard the voice, he'd gone full self-preservation—his body already dispersing into smoke and slipping out through the half-open window.
To make things worse, in that split second of escape, he still had the presence of mind to use his smoke to snag the lunch box packed for Hina and take it with him.
Rain was done.
You little—!! He nearly swore out loud. First to run, huh? Running is one thing, but you still remember the delivery for Hina? This debt is going on your tab!
While he was distracted, a tall, stunning silhouette stepped smoothly out of the shadows at the kitchen entrance.
Gion was draped in a deep-blue silk robe of exquisite quality, the sash clearly tied hastily after her bath and hanging loose around her waist.
Her long, glossy black hair wasn't up like in the daytime. Slightly damp from the bath, it flowed down her back, with a few strands clinging playfully to her bare collarbone—skin as smooth and pale as fine white jade.
A shaft of cold moonlight slipped in through the half-open window and fell perfectly over her.
The light seemed to breathe through the thin silk, faintly outlining the flawless curves beneath.
Without her uniform's rigid lines and daylight's formal authority, Gion in the moonlight carried less sharpness and far more lazy, dangerous allure.
Her face was, simply put, breathtaking.
Delicate features, perfectly proportioned; her foxlike eyes narrowed slightly when she saw the food-laden table, a glint of mature charm and danger swirling in them.
She stood there casually, one hand resting on Konpira at her waist—the extreme beauty and danger mingling on her figure into a presence so thick it made the very air feel heavy.
Rain had lived two lives. After years of social media "goddesses" and filters, he'd thought himself completely numb to good looks.
But this woman was the real thing—a natural blend of martial sharpness and feminine charm.
The sort of beauty that made your heart speed up even while your brain screamed danger.
For a moment, even his steady mind wavered and his breath stuttered.
The air felt frozen.
Gion's gaze slid briefly over the bubbling hotpot, then to Rain. She spoke first.
Her voice was clear and pleasant, but carried a pressure that could crush steel.
"Unauthorized entry into the base kitchen. Theft of officers' special rations. Drinking in the kitchen after curfew… Sergeant Rain, any one of those is enough to get you dragged up in front of a court-martial. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Rain snapped back from his daze almost instantly, his calm returning.
He swallowed his disgust at Smoker's cowardly escape and put on his usual harmless smile. "You misunderstand, Rear Admiral Gion. This was all Smoker, he—"
"What is this?"
She cut him off, eyes falling on the churning red broth in the pot. Even she had never seen cooking like this.
"Reporting, ma'am," Rain said, mind racing as he switched to a professional tone. "This is hotpot. A cooking method… designed to maximize the flavor of ingredients."
As he spoke, his brain scrambled for a way out.
Then Gion did something he absolutely did not expect.
In a blur, she simply snatched the chopsticks straight from his hand.
Rain: (・_・?)
Gion, holding his chopsticks, casually stirred the pot, then fished up a slice of meat soaked in the spicy broth with perfect precision.
Under Rain's stunned stare, her red lips parted slightly—and she put the meat into her mouth.
The next second, her eyes opened wide.
Intense numbing, heat, umami, and aroma all exploded across her tongue at once.
The tenderness of the meat, the depth of the broth, the complex dance of spices—this unprecedented impact on her taste buds left her frozen in place.
Then—"Tss… ha!"
The heat hit late and hard. Even Gion wasn't immune; her cheeks flushed red, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her brow.
She reached out by pure instinct, grabbed Rain's sake glass off the table, and tossed it back in one go.
"Haa—!"
The clean burn of the alcohol crushed the fire down, a wave of indescribable relief shooting from her throat straight up to her scalp.
Gion let out a long breath, her eyes hazy and half-lidded from the rush.
She seemed to have completely forgotten she'd come here to catch someone.
The next moment, in Rain's utterly frozen stare, Rear Admiral Gion just flicked her robe aside and sat down in the exact spot he'd just vacated.
She picked up another piece of meat with his chopsticks and, without even looking at him, gave a crisp, unquestionable order:
"What are you standing there for? Can't you see the meat is almost gone?"