Five days later, on a small rise in the Back Mountains near Marineford, Atticus stood atop the hill, staring into the distance.
His short hair, tied back with a purple ribbon, billowed slightly in the breeze.
The three scars on his right cheek did nothing to hide his striking, chiseled face.
He wore a simple shirt and long trousers, standing quietly in thought.
His eyes were bright and steady, like distant stars.
Five days had passed since his last battle—enough time for him to recover from his wounds—but rather than meditate or train, he had come here alone.
Heavy footsteps approached.
A man in casual clothes, carrying two bottles of wine, slowly drew near.
"Master." Atticus turned his head respectfully toward the newcomer.
"Come, sit." Zephyr offered a warm smile and patted the rock beside him.
He settled himself and beckoned Atticus over.
Atticus sat down slowly.
There was a hint of confusion in his eyes as he asked, "Master, why did you come here?"
Zephyr returned his smile and handed him one of the bottles.
"I came to check on you and found you missing. I thought you had gone to train but apparently I was wrong."
Atticus opened the bottle and took a long sip.
His expression was heavy, voice quiet.
"I don't feel like training today."
Zephyr frowned in surprise.
Atticus seemed not like the same fanatic who had once known nothing but training.
"What's on your mind?" Zephyr asked.
Atticus closed his eyes for a moment, struggle evident in his face.
"I miss my sister. I don't know if she's eating properly or dressing warmly. She has a congenital heart condition. I don't know if she can hold on until I find her."
His voice cracked as he spoke, laden with longing and worry.
Zephyr placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"It's alright. I checked a while ago. Ever since Gol D. Roger became Pirate King, the Golden Lion Pirates vanished. As long as you haven't seen proof of her fate, you must hold on to hope. Believe she's still alive."
Atticus felt something stir deep inside him.
Since his parents divorced, his grandfather had been his only family.
Now, perhaps for the first time, he understood what it meant to be cared for by a parent figure.
Zephyr had become like a father to him.
"Whatever happens, I'm your master now and always," Zephyr said with quiet certainty.
"Master," Atticus whispered, emotion thick in his voice.
Zephyr nodded.
"Don't worry, everything will be fine."
Atticus closed his eyes, drawing in a steady breath.
"Understood."
Zephyr stood and stretched.
"Come, we'll go to my house. I realize I never properly introduced you to my wife or my son."
Atticus raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Senior wife? Junior brother?"
"Yes," Zephyr said with embarrassment.
"I've never mentioned it because, well, you've been so busy lately I simply forgot."
Atticus was silent.
In all the time since he became Zephyr's disciple, he had never considered that his master might already be married—or have a child.
In the past, memories had faded.
He recalled only a handful of familiar names.
No wonder he never asked.
"I suppose I should have asked earlier. That's my fault," Atticus admitted quietly.
Zephyr laughed gently.
"No blame. Now come with me. My wife and son have been eager to meet you."
He motioned for Atticus to follow.
Before leaving, Atticus paused.
"Master, at least let me bring a gift."
Zephyr shook his head with a smile.
"No need. My wife won't expect anything from you."
Atticus hesitated.
"And what about your son?"
"He's only three years old; he wouldn't pay attention to gifts anyway."
Zephyr shrugged.
Atticus's face darkened at the realization.
He had no money on him.
His clothing, lodging, even food had been provided by the dormitory.
He had never bothered to earn or save anything.
Feeling uneasy, he hesitated.
Then he shook his head and spoke softly.
"I can't show up empty-handed for my first visit."
"Go ahead then," Zephyr said with a fond smile, standing.
With resolve, Atticus vanished into the distance using Moonwalk technique.
Zephyr watched him go, shaking his head in quiet amusement, as if expecting nothing less from his disciple.
Meanwhile, at the Mess Hall, cadets gathered for mealtime, conversations and laughter filling the air.
It was lively, warm, alive.
Atticus had only one person he truly considered a friend here: Aokiji.
But Aokiji was unreliable and perhaps even poorer than himself.
Borrowing money from him was not an option.
He walked through the hall quietly, scanning the crowd for someone wealthy and willing to lend a hand.
He remembered that among the wealthier cadets was Momousagi, said to be backed by the cunning old woman Tsuru.
He didn't care about flattery or charm.
He knew that in this world, pride couldn't feed the stomach.
Spotting Momousagi immediately, he approached and stood beside her table.
The room grew silent — many cadets recognized Atticus's reputation and strength, and none dared to casually intrude on his presence.
Atticus felt his face flush as he opened his mouth.
The words felt foreign, but he forced them out.
"Excuse me — could I borrow some money? I'll pay you back ten times the amount later."
Shock cracked over the room like thunder.
Everyone froze.
Momousagi's face drained of color.
She swallowed hard.
"Borrow money?" she stuttered.
Atticus nodded firmly, trying to steady himself.
Momousagi rose slowly.
"How much do you need?" she asked, still in disbelief.
"A few hundred thousand Berries," Atticus answered softly.
Momousagi looked around, perhaps for witnesses.
Then she nodded and motioned him to follow.
He exhaled in relief and followed her through the doorway, stepping out of sight from the crowd's curious stares.
---
Early chapters. Early access.
Join me on Patreon.
Patreon.com/Zphyr_