Chapter 13: An Excuse
"Have you ever seen this person before?"
The voice was calm—too calm.
Eiger stopped in his tracks but didn't flinch. His heartbeat remained steady, his gaze sharp but composed, as if he had already expected this encounter.
Before him stood a tall man with a lean, unhurried posture, hands buried in his pockets, the faint chill of frost clinging to the air around him.
Navy Headquarters Admiral—Kuzan, known across the seas as Aokiji.
Eiger didn't speak. His expression didn't change. He simply glanced once at Kuzan, then lowered his eyes to the photograph in the admiral's hand.
A photograph of a young girl—no older than eight or nine—with shoulder-length black hair and clear, lonely eyes that seemed far too sad for her age.
The corners of Eiger's lips tightened.
Nico Robin.
The World Government's most wanted child, branded the Devil's Child—and now, the woman he called his wife.
He stared at the picture longer than he should have, the faint ache in his chest betraying him for just an instant. Then his expression hardened again.
Across from him, Kuzan watched quietly, his face still set in that lazy, half-bored smile—but his eyes were sharp, observant.
He wasn't just showing a photo. He was studying every twitch of Eiger's muscles, every breath, every flicker of hesitation.
Did this man know who she really was?
And if he did—what would he do?
Would he pretend ignorance?
Would he defy the World Government to protect her?
Or would he turn her in without hesitation, to save himself?
Kuzan had met many kinds of Marines. But this one… this man who'd chosen to leave the Navy, who'd killed pirates without orders, who'd built a quiet life for himself—
He was curious.
What kind of decision would this man make?
Then—finally—Eiger's voice broke the silence.
"Never seen her."
His tone was perfectly level. Not defensive. Not rushed. Simply flat.
Kuzan's eyes narrowed slightly.
So that was his answer.
He'd chosen denial.
"…I see," Kuzan murmured, voice unreadable. A trace of disappointment—or perhaps respect—flitted across his face, gone before it could be certain which.
But before he could speak again, something unexpected happened.
Eiger's hand moved—calm, deliberate.
In one smooth motion, he plucked the photo from Kuzan's hand.
The admiral raised an eyebrow, but didn't stop him.
Eiger looked down at the picture once more, blowing gently across it, as if dusting away invisible specks of ash. Then, without a word, he folded it carefully and tucked it into his coat.
"…"
The forest went utterly still.
Kuzan watched him in silence, his lazy expression breaking into something faintly amused—half incredulous, half impressed.
"So," he said at last, voice low and amused, "you're keeping it, huh?"
Eiger met his gaze evenly, his tone still calm, his eyes clear and unyielding.
"Wouldn't want to litter," he said.
And with that, he turned his back on an admiral.
Kuzan: "…"
For once, the Admiral of the Navy Headquarters was completely dumbfounded.
What the hell is this kid doing?
Didn't he just say he didn't know the girl?
Then why—why on earth—did he just snatch the photo out of his hand?
Eiger spoke with a straight face:
"A grown man carrying around a picture of a little girl? You're lucky no one else saw that—you'd be reported before sunset."
He patted the pocket where the photo now rested, looking utterly serious.
"I'll be keeping this. Don't do this again, old man. Anyway, I'll be going now—my wife's waiting for me to come home for dinner."
Kuzan: "…"
There was a long, silent beat.
He could only stare at the man before him, black lines forming across his forehead as his hand twitched in disbelief.
My wife's waiting for me to come home for dinner?
This bastard.
He had to be doing this on purpose. Pretending ignorance, stealing the photo, and then walking away like nothing happened?
Kuzan's earlier curiosity—his intent to test, to observe, even the faint hope that maybe this man would surprise him—all of it shattered instantly.
This wasn't confusion or fear.
This was pure, unfiltered shamelessness.
Still, it didn't matter. One way or another, he wasn't letting the man walk away so easily.
"Hold it," Kuzan said coldly, his tone still lazy, but the air around him had shifted.
A biting chill spread across the forest floor, frost forming in spiderweb cracks beneath his boots.
"You think you can snatch my things and just stroll off like that, former Marine ensign?"
"I'm not some 'former ensign,'" Eiger replied calmly, stopping mid-step and turning his head slightly. "The name's Eiger. And this—" he tapped his coat pocket, "—isn't yours anymore."
Kuzan blinked once, then let out a slow, amused exhale. His earlier chill faded into a smirk.
"Well, this is interesting. Do you know, or don't you? You look like someone who's already figured out I planned to beat you up."
"I don't know," Eiger replied flatly.
Of course he knew.
The moment he entered the forest that morning, his Observation Haki had picked up Kuzan's presence—an aura too calm, too unhidden to belong to a mere passerby.
If the Admiral had wanted to conceal himself, Eiger would never have sensed him.
No, Kuzan had wanted to be noticed.
That left only two possibilities—either the man had come to test him… or he'd simply come to punch him in the face.
Judging by his expression, it was probably both.
Eiger sighed inwardly.
So this is what meeting the father-in-law feels like.
Raising someone else's "cabbage" only to watch it get taken by a pig—any man would be furious.
Neither mentioned Nico by name.
Kuzan clung to the excuse that his photo had been stolen.
Eiger, in turn, acted like he'd never even heard of the "Devil's Child."
The tension between them thickened, sharp and heavy as the chill in the air.
Eiger dropped his coat to the ground, bare-chested once more, his muscles gleaming faintly in the fading light.
Kuzan watched, interest flickering in his eyes.
"You're not my match," he said simply, planting his hands on his hips. The temperature plummeted. "But I'll give you credit—"
His tone darkened, voice cold as glacial steel.
"—you guessed right. I did come here to beat you up… you filthy bastard who tricked an amnesiac woman into marrying you."
Frost crept outward like living vines, freezing everything it touched. Ice crystals rose in jagged spikes, shimmering in the dim light.
And yet—just before the frost reached Eiger's boots—
"Wait."
The single word, sharp and commanding, cut through the cold.
To his own surprise, Kuzan actually paused. He raised an eyebrow.
"What? Trying to beg for mercy now? Too late, kid."
"Beg?" Eiger snorted, reaching into his coat. "Who said anything about begging?"
Under the Admiral's watchful eye, Eiger pulled something out—round, oddly patterned, and faintly glowing green in the dying sunlight.
A Devil Fruit.
Kuzan's eyes narrowed slightly.
And before he could say anything, Eiger lifted it to his mouth… and took a bite.
The texture was rubbery, the taste indescribably foul. His face twitched.
"Disgusting," he muttered, forcing it down anyway.
The world seemed to shift.
The sunlight that had been hitting his skin shimmered, as if drawn into him—absorbed, devoured.
A faint, radiant glow spread across his body, golden and pulsing. The fatigue in his muscles vanished, replaced by a surge of boundless vitality. Every nerve, every cell in his body seemed to hum with new energy.
Eiger flexed his fingers once, the axe in his right hand catching the light. His voice was calm, steady.
"You can start now."
---
Meanwhile, in Sibia Village—
"That settles it then. We'll build the winery here!" Chief Marin announced, his face alight with excitement as he pointed toward an open patch of land.
But as he looked up at the setting sun, his tone softened. "It's getting late, Nico. You should go home and rest. You've been at this all day. If that brat Eiger finds out I let you work this long, he'll give me an earful."
Nico smiled faintly, relief touching her eyes. "Alright, Chief Marin. I'll head back now—see you tomorrow."
"Go on, go on. No rush tomorrow," the old man said cheerfully. "He's probably on his way home already anyway."
Nico gathered her papers and tools, ready to leave—but then she froze.
Her body stiffened, her head turning almost involuntarily toward the mountains behind the village.
Her smile faded. Her expression grew distant, eyes clouded with confusion and… fear.
Something inside her stirred—a whisper at the edge of her mind, old and painful.
Marin followed her gaze, frowning.
A strange white mist was curling above the mountains, twisting through the sky.
"Huh," he muttered. "Looks like winter's coming early this year."
He chuckled, trying to brush off the unease in his chest. "Don't worry about Eiger. It's just a bit of cold air. That boy won't be beaten by a little chill. He's probably already home waiting for you."
"…Yeah."
Nico blinked, then nodded slowly. A fragile smile touched her lips. "You're right. He's waiting for me."
She turned away, her steps uneven but determined.
Marin watched her go, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.
"Ah, young love," he sighed. "Worried sick over a bit of cold wind… what a sweet couple."
If only he knew—
that what hovered over the mountain was no ordinary cold front.