An hour later, Darren hobbled out of the bathroom under Zephyr-sensei's amused, half-mocking gaze, bent like a man with a twisted ankle.
"What's wrong, Young Darren? Aren't you supposed to be Indestructible?" Zephyr asked, lifting his teacup to hide the grin tugging at his mouth as the Vice Admiral staggered along the wall.
Darren glared. "...Hmph."
Indestructible, sure—but even the Golden Bell Iron Shirt has weak spots, he groused inwardly, rolling his eyes. He shuffled to the sofa, hesitated, then grabbed a throw pillow and carefully set it down before easing himself onto it.
"Ugh…"
The groan that escaped him was long and tragic. He slumped back as if returning from a war, hands trembling as he lit a cigar.
Zephyr's shoulders shook with barely suppressed laughter.
Seeing the perpetually cocky brat humbled this thoroughly was a rare tonic after a day buried in paperwork.
"So, you're still set on taking Magellan as your student?" Zephyr asked, teasing light in his eyes.
Darren's hand froze mid-draw. Bloodshot gaze, clenched teeth. "Of course I am. What's a little diarrhea? Consider it… detox."
Zephyr blinked—then burst out laughing. "Very well. The boy's yours."
From the first glance, he'd recognized Magellan as a prodigy—every bit the equal of "monsters" like Sakazuki and Darren. The problem was the Venom-Venom Fruit's overwhelming power. Even Zephyr had struggled to devise a regimen. He couldn't exactly abandon his duties to babysit a kid stationed on a toilet all day.
An uncomfortable memory made him shift in his chair. "Right."
Darren rolled his eyes. Old-man shirking at its finest.
But he had no choice. His Physique had plateaued; nothing he tried nudged the needle. He couldn't just charge into Roger and Whitebeard's turf to be pulverized for no gain—and if Fish-Man Island was any indication, even that wouldn't help much.
Now that he'd found a path forward, he'd grit his teeth through the burning, smoking aftermath. The body adapts. Back when that overalls-wearing glutton tortured him until he vomited blood, he'd gotten used to it. His backside could, too… probably.
A road less traveled, to put it mildly.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Zephyr-sensei?"
A slightly husky woman's voice made Darren's eyelids twitch.
Before he could react, the door swung open.
"Zephyr-sensei, I saw your light was still on and brought coffee—Darren… Vice Admiral?"
Gion stepped in with a warm smile, steam curling from the cup in her hands. The smile faltered a beat when she spotted Darren sprawled on the sofa with a cigar; then her brows arched, playful and sharp.
"Thank you, Gion," Zephyr said, accepting the cup with a smile. "You must have just returned. How was the Branch?"
He'd sent her to look into Magellan's situation; she'd only just returned to Headquarters.
"I got back yesterday, but I was exhausted and rested at home," Gion replied. "Here are the reports you requested, Zephyr-sensei."
She handed over a neatly compiled file, eyes cutting sidelong toward Darren with a tone full of layered meaning. "When did Vice Admiral Darren get back? It's been a while since we last saw him…"
Darren's lip twitched.
He'd been back two days, but between Toki's pregnancy and the drunken reunion, he'd completely forgotten to see Gion.
Experience told him she was already annoyed.
"Um, about that…" he began, flustered.
"Hah! He's been back for days," Zephyr boomed, laughing. "Didn't you hear about their drinking reunion?"
Darren: …
Dead man walking.
He wanted to sprint over and clamp that old man's mouth shut. It sounded exactly like a husband coming home from a long trip and ditching his wife to go drinking with the boys.
Sure enough.
Gion's smile grew brighter—the kind of bright that burned cold. "Is that so? A class reunion?" she said, grinding her teeth just a touch. "Funny. I'm in the third graduating class too. Why wasn't I invited?"
Cold sweat slid down Darren's back. He coughed. "Cough, cough… It was just a chance encounter…"
"Hmph! Don't even bring it up, Gion!" Zephyr snapped, indignant. "Those brats didn't invite me either—and I'm their teacher!"
Zephyr-sensei, please—
Darren screamed silently.
Forcing a smile, he said, "If you'd like to get together, Gion, we can reschedule."
Gion narrowed her eyes, then turned to Zephyr with a pleasant, lethal smile. "Zephyr-sensei, you should rest."
"Huh? Nonsense, I'm not tired. I can still finish these—" He stopped, the chill in her gaze sliding under his skin. Why is this girl still angry…? he wondered, shrinking a little. Better not provoke her. Little Tsuru will skin me later.
"Alright, then," he said at last. He stacked his papers, rose, and headed for the door.
"Zephyr-sensei—let me walk you out! I have something important to report," Darren blurted, sweating as he braced on the sofa and struggled to stand, one hand pleading toward Zephyr like a drowning man reaching for shore.
Gion stepped in front of him, smile turning glacial. "I don't think we should disturb Zephyr-sensei's rest. Don't you agree, Vice Admiral Darren?"
Darren froze, helpless, as Zephyr gave a little wave and gently pulled the door shut behind him.
To be continued...