Chapter 7: The Fist of "Love"
"Yo, kid! Long time no see! How've you been?"
After subjecting Luffy to his "affectionate" greeting, Garp finally turned his attention to Satoru. With a wide grin, he raised a massive hand and brought it down in a hearty, familiar slap aimed at Satoru's back.
This time, however, the slap hesitated for the briefest moment in mid-air before landing solidly on Satoru's small shoulder. It was a subtle pause, almost imperceptible.
A man of Garp's caliber, however, definitely noticed it. He said nothing, but a thought flickered in his mind. So that's his ability. Even though he hadn't spent much time with Satoru, he kept in regular contact with the mayor and knew about the boy's peculiarities. From the moment he'd first seen those pale blue eyes, he'd sensed something extraordinary. He'd encountered many strange races in his travels—the Longarm Tribe, the Longleg Tribe, the Mink Tribe, Giants—but none had ever given him this specific, intuitive feeling. At most, their appearances were just surprising.
Only Satoru was different. After that first meeting, Garp had even gone digging through Marineford's archives upon his return, trying to find any record of such eyes. He found nothing. The act of him, Garp, voluntarily reading books was so out of character that Fleet Admiral Sengoku had been convinced he was either sick or an impostor using a Devil Fruit to infiltrate Headquarters. It had caused quite a stir.
He broke through Infinity so easily... Satoru thought, feeling a wave of helpless frustration. Of course, his passive Infinity was still in its most nascent, fragile stage, a subconscious flicker of defense. Meeting someone at the pinnacle of the world's power right out of the gate was like encountering the final boss in the starter village.
"It's fine. Good. I like this place a lot," Satoru replied evenly. "If I could, I'd like to stay here forever."
"Hahaha! Impossible!" Garp boomed, looking pleased nonetheless. The compliment to his hometown was always welcome. "The old man expects you to become a fine Marine! With your special talents, it'd be a waste not to serve! Crushing pirates and upholding Marine justice—that'll be your duty in the future!"
So that's how it is, Satoru mused internally. No wonder his sons and grandsons are so rebellious. This was a classic, heavy-handed attempt at persuasion. Clearly, this approach had backfired spectacularly with the Monkey D. family, breeding serious counter-culture attitudes.
"Being a Marine might be a good choice," Satoru said aloud, his tone deceptively mild. "But is the path the Marines choose always just? And is every person wearing the uniform truly a representative of justice?"
The two questions hung in the air, momentarily stunning Garp into silence.
"The mayor always said you were mature for your age," Garp finally said, scratching his cheek. "But you're even more sharp than I imagined. That's not good, kid! Children should be innocent! If you're too grown-up, you won't make any friends!"
"I have friends," Satoru countered, gesturing toward Luffy, who now sported a large bump on his head and was either unconscious or deeply asleep. "Isn't Luffy a good friend?"
The idea of taking this world's future "son of destiny" as a little brother was, in Satoru's opinion, quite interesting. He hadn't just inherited Gojo Satoru's power; he'd inherited that playful, borderline-mischievous personality as well. He'd just been keeping it subdued, focused solely on growing stronger.
"Hahaha! True! You're both my grandsons, of course you're friends! Good brothers!" Garp's laughter shook the windows. "Speaking of which, I've got another grandson I'll introduce you to someday. I'm sure you'll get along great!"
Satoru could guess who that was: Ace, the son of the Pirate King. He had to admit, Garp had a way of winning. Getting Roger's son to call him "Grandpa" was a roundabout way of one-upping his old rival in the generational hierarchy. It probably stemmed from Garp's deep, personal regret over not being the one to officially arrest Roger.
"Okay," Satoru nodded. He wasn't sure if he or Ace was older, but he was fine being the eldest brother. Let Ace and Sabo figure out who was second and third. With an adult's intellect, Satoru was confident he could maneuver a couple of kids into accepting his seniority.
The thought, however, led to a future headache—the Summit War. As the big brother, how could he not save his little brother? And yet, his planned path was within the Marines... The contradiction was annoying.
"What's with that face? Spacing out on me?"
A sharp, sudden pain exploded on the top of Satoru's head. At some point, Garp's fist had come down—bonk!
He couldn't see the top of his own head, but there was no doubt a sizable bump had now joined Luffy's. His nascent Infinity hadn't activated unconsciously this time. He'd taken the hit cleanly.
"N-nothing," Satoru stammered, clutching his head. Tears welled up in his eyes uncontrollably. It wasn't that he wanted to cry; the pain was simply so intense it triggered a purely physical response.
Huh? Garp thought, curious. Last time, his ability blocked it. This time, it didn't. Did I use Armament Haki unconsciously? Is Haki the natural counter to whatever power this kid has?
Fortunately, Satoru couldn't read Garp's mind. If he knew the man had unconsciously—or consciously—imbued his "Love Fist" with Armament Haki to test a theory, he would have packed his tiny bags and run away from home with a manly resolve. He would not suffer this injustice.
If not for the fact that Satoru could swim perfectly well, Garp might have wondered if the boy was a Devil Fruit user.
"Mr. Garp! What are you doing?!" Makino cried out, rushing forward. She pulled Satoru into a protective hug, shooting a fierce, reproachful look at the Vice Admiral. "You can't bully children like that!"
"Hahaha! Kids need to be tough! They have to learn to take a hit young so their skin gets thick and their flesh gets hard!" Garp declared, utterly unrepentant. "That's how they grow up strong enough to fight pirates and survive!"
Satoru, his head throbbing, knew the truth. Garp wasn't following some profound parenting philosophy. He just couldn't control his fists.
(End of Chapter)
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