The shattered harbor of Marineford was a forest of iron cranes, wooden scaffolding, and smoking repair fires. Work crews operated around the clock, hauling broken marble blocks out of the bay while naval engineers attempted to stabilize the remaining foundation of the fortress.
In a quiet corner of the lower docks, away from the dust and heavy machinery, Captain Tenjin stood near the gangway of a small, single-masted Navy transport vessel.
He wore a plain black shirt over thick, white medical dressings that bound his chest, shoulders, and arms beneath his standard blue trousers. His white Marine coat rested loosely over his right shoulder, its gold epaulets catching the grey morning sunlight. Every movement pulled sharply at the scorched, tender skin across his upper body, but his jaw remained locked in a tight, unyielding line.
"I don't need transport, Garp," Tenjin said, turning his sharp eyes toward the Vice Admiral standing beside him on the wooden pier. "I need to get stronger. Clear me for active duty. Give me a training yard, or let me go to the New World."
Garp stood with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, staring out at the open sea. "You can barely raise your arms past your shoulders without tearing your stitches open, brat."
"I don't care about the stitches!" Tenjin snapped, his voice rough with suppressed rage and exhaustion. He looked down at his own bandaged hands, his knuckles turning white. "Teach me Haki! Armament! Observation! Whatever lets me keep fighting when my fruit isn't enough! I stood in front of Sakazuki and almost died from a single hit. I watched Teach walk away with two Devil Fruit powers. If I can't even handle an Admiral or monsters like Teach, I'm useless! Teach me until I can smash through Sakazuki's magma or anyone else who tries to crush people in front of me!"
Garp turned his head slowly, his dark eyes narrowing into a cold, stern glare that instantly silenced the younger officer.
"No," Garp said flatly.
Tenjin blinked. "No?"
"You're half-cooked, angry, and stupid," Garp said, his tone dropping into a low, uncompromising growl. "I'm not teaching you Haki like this. You want strength because you're scared of feeling helpless again. Haki isn't something you run away to, brat."
Vice Admiral Gion stepped onto the pier, her pink Marine coat fluttering slightly in the coastal breeze, one arm still held carefully near her bandaged shoulder beneath her coat. She held a wooden clipboard containing official leave documentation signed directly by Fleet Admiral Sengoku.
"Garp is right, Tenjin," Gion said, her expression serious as she handed him his travel papers. "Your burns need time to heal, and you need a few days where nobody is trying to kill you. This isn't desertion, and no one is stripping you of your rank. It's sanctioned medical leave."
Tenjin stared between them, his jaw tightening. "You two planned this."
Gion raised an eyebrow. "Planned what?"
"This," Tenjin accused, gesturing bitterly with his papers. "The lectures. The medical leave. Sending me home. You're conspiring against me."
Garp burst into a booming, deep laugh. "For once," Gion added calmly, "your paranoia has produced the correct answer. When you return, my instruction and Garp's conditioning will be waiting for you. We aren't going anywhere."
Tenjin stared at the signed documents in his hand. His natural impulse. His entire life's reaction to feeling weak was to hurl himself into relentless physical conditioning until his body broke. But Garp's heavy words echoed in his ears, pairing with the persistent memory of Red-Haired Shanks.
Ask the woman who raised you before someone else decides who you are.
Two men from completely opposite sides of the law, both telling him the exact same thing. It was deeply frustrating, but he could no longer ignore it. His physical body was far too damaged to attempt flying long distances across the ocean on one of his giant spinning flowers, forcing him to rely on ordinary Marine transport.
Footsteps scuffled along the wooden planks of the pier.
Koby, Helmeppo, Hibari, Prince Grus, and Kujaku approached the vessel in a loose group. Koby looked exhausted, his face still pale after his Observation Haki had awakened amid the dying voices of Marineford, while Helmeppo carried a small crate of travel rations.
"Tenjin-san!" Koby called out, coming to a sharp, formal salute. "I... I wanted to thank you again. If you hadn't stepped between me and Admiral Akainu... I wouldn't be standing here."
"Save it, Koby," Tenjin said, relaxing his posture slightly. "You spoke the truth on that battlefield. I just made sure you didn't get turned to ash for it."
Grus clicked his tongue, leaning against a wooden mooring post with a lazy scoff. "You still owe me, by the way."
Tenjin frowned. "For what?"
"Saving Koby after you decided becoming a human shield was a strategy," Grus said, long hair shading his eyes.
"I saved him first," Tenjin snapped.
"You got yourself cooked first."
Kujaku rested one hand on the handle of her coiled whip, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, let the boy go home, Grus. Look at him, he looks like a wrapped mummy." Her smirk faded slightly as her eyes settled on the thick bandages visible beneath his shirt. "Seriously, though... don't go tearing those open trying to prove something stupid. Go let your mother fuss over you, Captain."
Helmeppo shoved the ration crate onto the deck near the gangway. "Try to survive medical leave, alright? Somehow that sounds harder for you than Marineford."
"Have some faith," Tenjin muttered.
Hibari stepped forward shyly, placing a small glass jar of dried tea leaves beside the crate. "It's for the voyage, Tenjin-san. It helps with pain and sleep."
"Thank you, Hibari," Tenjin said, giving her a brief, genuine nod. He looked across the small group of young officers. The junior Marines who had stood beside him in the mud and horror of Marineford. For the first time in days, the heavy knot in his chest loosened slightly.
He turned and walked up the wooden gangway, stepping onto the main deck of the transport ship. The sailors immediately set to work untying the heavy mooring lines.
Garp stood at the edge of the pier, watching as the canvas sails unfurled and caught the offshore wind. "Don't rush back until you've cleared your head, Tenjin!" Garp hollered across the widening gap of water, his booming voice cutting through the harbor noise. "Go home, brat!"
Tenjin offered a single, quiet salute from the stern as Marineford shrank into the gray distance behind him.
The voyage across the calm waters toward the North Blue took several quiet days.
Tenjin spent most of his time sitting near the ship's bow, watching the horizon and resting his injured body. He did not know that far ahead of him, Saint Figarland Garling had already arrived on Welbems Island. He had no idea that the World Government had already moved its dark, quiet shadow over his past before he could even reach the shore.
On the morning of the fifth day, the dense coastal mist finally broke.
Pine-covered cliffs emerged from the sea first, followed by the snow-touched hills of Welbems Island. Nestled in the quiet valley between them sat Hakkuro Village. Smoke from kitchen chimneys drifted lazily into the crisp morning air, completely untouched by the war that had just reshaped the world.
Tenjin slowly rose from his seat at the bow, gripping the wooden railing as the transport ship glided toward the harbor.
Home.
He believed the hardest battle of his life was behind him on the blood-soaked plaza of Marineford. He believed the hardest part of this journey would simply be walking into the small wooden house on the hill, looking into Makima's calm, amber eyes, and asking her the truth about who he really was.
He kept his gaze fixed on the quiet village, completely unaware of the trap already waiting for him.
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