That evening, right after regular training ended—
Smoker and Hina slipped like thieves into a blind spot behind the kitchen.
"…It's all that bastard's fault!" Hina hissed under her breath, gritting her teeth. "What time is it right now? Dinner just ended! The kitchen staff haven't even all left yet, and we already have to sneak in to steal food?!"
"Quit whining!" Smoker's expression was even uglier. He was still swollen from last night's beating; half his face looked like a bruised egg. "Rear Admiral Gion specifically asked for a late-night snack early. You dare not deliver? And that bastard Rain bailed on us!"
"What?!"
"He said," Smoker forced his face into Rain's "kind" smile, "'From now on I only handle the cooking. Everything else is your job.' …Damn it! He's treating us like laborers!"
They stared at each other and saw nothing but despair in each other's eyes.
After a frantic scramble, the two of them staggered to the meeting point, panting and carrying a heavy bag of top-quality ingredients, where Rain was already waiting.
He took the bag, weighed it in his hand, and smiled. "Good work."
Smoker snorted through his swollen face.
Rain ignored him. "Same time tomorrow. Don't be late."
Without acknowledging their murderous glares, he walked off with the ingredients.
…
Following Gion's directions from the night before, Rain needed a bit of time to track down her quarters.
The door was slightly ajar. He knocked lightly.
"Come in," Gion's lazy voice floated out.
Rain opened the door and walked into a wave of mixed scents—bath soap and the faint, natural fragrance unique to a mature woman.
It was his first time in Gion's private space.
The room was quite spacious, but unexpectedly simple—almost cold in style.
Aside from the basics, most of the "decorations" were weapon racks and bookshelves.
Rain paused at the entry and realized… there were no guest slippers.
"Um… Rear Admiral Gion."
"I don't get many visitors here," she called from inside, sounding fully aware of his hesitation. "No need for slippers. Come in barefoot."
"…Yes, ma'am." Rain tugged off his boots, stepping barefoot onto the cool wood floor, and carried the ingredients into the small independent kitchen.
Most officer quarters had one of these compact private kitchens. Judging from the spotless counters and brand-new cookware, though, this one had barely been used.
In the adjacent sitting area, Gion sat at a low table, fresh from a bath and wrapped again in that dark blue silk robe, leisurely wiping down Kinpira.
"You're three minutes late," she said without looking up.
"Reporting, ma'am," Rain started prepping ingredients like he'd done it a thousand times, "your new schedule is putting a lot of pressure on Smoker and Hina. It slowed them down a bit."
He smoothly tossed Smoker and Hina under the cart, omitting the part where he'd gotten lost finding her room.
"Oh?" Gion finally glanced up at him, amused.
Rain just shrugged and said nothing more, focusing on the cooking.
Tonight, there was no hotpot. Instead, he went for several technically demanding but subtly fragrant dishes—steamed deep-sea fish, sea-beast tendon and bone soup, and a delicate stir-fry of assorted mushrooms.
When the dishes hit the table, the restrained but refined aromas still made Gion's eyes light up.
She tasted the fish first. The way it melted on her tongue and the perfectly balanced seasoning made her pause.
Then she tried the broth—the richness seemed to seep right into her bones, washing away the fatigue of the day.
After that, she didn't hold back. Her motions stayed elegant, but she cleaned all three plates without much delay.
"Mmm…" She set her chopsticks down, let out a barely audible hum of satisfaction, and leaned back in her chair. The steam from the food left a soft flush on her pale cheeks.
"Not bad," she nodded.
Rain said nothing, just started clearing the dishes on his own.
"Oh?" Gion watched him with interest. "You handle cleanup too?"
"Can't very well make the rear admiral do dishes," Rain replied calmly as he quickly restored the little kitchen to pristine condition.
Only after he was done did Gion stand and stretch. The movement made the silk robe trace even more alarming curves.
"Let's go." Her tone snapped back to that of a rear admiral. "To the training ground. I want to see what level your strength is really at."
…
It was already late. The public training ground behind the base was deserted, bathed in moonlight and silence.
Gion led Rain to the middle of the field.
She casually grabbed two bamboo practice swords from a nearby rack and tossed one to him.
"Come at me with everything you've got. I need to know your baseline before deciding how to teach you."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Rain took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the bamboo sword.
Soru.
He stamped the ground and shot forward.
But his mastery of Soru looked "rough"—he had speed, sure, but his trajectory was stiff and full of openings.
Gion didn't even move her feet.
She just shifted sideways and, with a lazy flick of her bamboo sword, stepped in after him and tapped his path.
Smack! The bamboo edge struck the nerve on his wrist dead-on.
Rain's sword clattered to the ground, and his own momentum sent him stumbling into an undignified fall.
Gion shook her head. "Pathetic."
She stepped closer—close enough that her scent filled his nose.
"Watch closely," her voice sounded right at his ear. "Real Rokushiki plus swordsmanship isn't about running up to your opponent and then swinging. The slash is already complete while you're moving."
She blurred—just a sideways slide of one meter, yet the air shrieked with wind.
Boom! Her bamboo tip tapped a training stone nearby.
Rain closed his eyes "deep in thought," standing still.
A few minutes later, he snapped his eyes open and rushed forward with another strike.
Bang!
He didn't even fully complete the motion before Gion smacked his wrist again, knocking the sword from his hand.
"No," she frowned. "Your ankles fired too early. You're bleeding killing intent. You trying to tell the enemy you're about to hit them?"
Rain gritted his teeth, reset his stance, and charged again.
Pretending at this level took more focus than actual fighting; it was getting boring. His attention slipped, just a bit.
"Your shoulders are stiff as a board! Were you even listening to me?!"
Her scolding held a hint of exasperation. She swung the bamboo sword again, ready to crack him exactly where he was open—
And just before the bamboo connected with his shoulder—
Rain's body moved on its own.
He'd been playing the weakling so long that his mind had wandered. His swordsmanship instincts, coupled with Observation Haki, took over.
In that split-second, his wrist dipped at a microscopic angle—
CLANG—!!!!
A sharp, jarring impact rang out.
Gion's lazy expression froze.
A massive, shocking force rebounded from the bamboo blade, shooting down into her grip as if she'd slammed into a mountain instead of another practice sword.
The backlash was so violent that her tiger's mouth went numb and her wrist stung. The counterforce literally shoved her back several steps.
The training field went dead silent.
Shit, Rain thought, heart seizing. Overdid it.
Gion steadied herself and looked up at him in shock, about to speak—
Rain was faster by an order of magnitude.
"OWWWW—!!!"
His scream tore through the quiet night.
His bamboo sword dropped with a clack, and he flopped to the ground, clutching his wrist and rolling like he'd been maimed.
"My wrist! My wrist! Admiral! It's broken—it's broken! Aaaagh it's going to snap off!!"
Gion: "…"
She stared at him with a complex expression, then slowly lowered her gaze to her own right hand—her tiger's mouth still buzzing, barely able to grip the sword.
Just now… was that a fluke? Or…
She sheathed the bamboo, walked over, and nudged the "dying" Rain with the toe of her boot.
"Get up. Drop the act."
She nudged him again with her polished boot.
Rain yelped, baring his teeth as he climbed to his feet, still rubbing his "cramped" wrist with his other hand.
A faint scent of soap and sweat drifted between them.
Gion caught his hand suddenly.
Rain: Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||)
She inspected his wrist carefully—skin smooth, bones straight, not a hint of swelling or strain. Not even a red mark.
She raised her eyes, now very close to his, lips curving into a sly half-smile.
"…Cramped, huh?"
"Y-yes, ma'am," Rain mumbled, looking away. "Maybe… too much training today."
She stared at him for three full seconds, then suddenly chuckled and let go.
"Heh… that's enough for tonight."
She turned and headed for the exit. At the doorway, she stopped without looking back and said lightly:
"Tomorrow night, I want tempura."