After the Going Merry left Twin Cape, it immediately began to encounter the Grand Line's unpredictable weather anomalies.
One moment the sky was clear, the next dark clouds rolled in like spilled ink, and heavy raindrops splattered on the deck with a pitter-patter.
First, there was a hail and snowstorm, then the sea surface would suddenly be shrouded in thick fog, followed by beautiful, sunny weather like springtime.
Not only were the crew members busy on the ship, but Nami, as the navigator, also discovered the terror of this unknown sea area; her navigation skills needed to be re-learned from scratch, and now the only thing she could trust was the Log Pose on her wrist.
As the last ray of sunset was swallowed by the horizon, the ocean, which had raged all day, finally showed a hint of exhaustion.
The rocking stopped, replaced by a slow, continuous, gentle sway.
Night fell, leaving only a few stars twinkling in the sky.
From the cabin came the faint breathing of Luffy and Usopp, Zoro leaned against the wall, clutching his sword and snoring in his sleep, and the clatter of Sanji tidying up dishes in the kitchen gradually subsided.
Everything became quiet.
Tomioka lay flat on his bunk, staring at the wooden ceiling; the ceaseless rocking made it difficult for him to sleep.
Beneath his feet was not solid ground, and the air was filled with the smell of seawater; this was not a place he was familiar with. This was also his first night spent on a ship, and after tossing and turning several times, he still couldn't fall asleep.
Tomioka simply got up, silently pushed open the cabin door, and walked onto the deck.
Then he saw her — Ms. Wednesday.
The woman whose eyes flickered and whose words were exaggerated during the day was now alone at the railing, wearing a long coat over a tight, short-sleeved top with blue and white stripes, a somewhat peculiar style, her long blue hair gently blown by the sea breeze.
There was none of her daytime exaggerated expression on her face; she was just quietly gazing at the dark sea, with a hint of heaviness, even a touch of sadness, in her eyes.
[Target: Ms. Wednesday]
[Status: Pensive, Worried]
[Preference: Fashion?]
[Suggestion: Go talk to her]
Tomioka's gaze lingered on her for a moment, without speaking. He shifted his sight, looking towards the distant, dark horizon at night.
His hometown seemed to blur into view in the darkness, Urokodaki-sensei's sternness and care beneath his mask, and Tanjiro's sunny smile. Those faces were vague and distant, separated by a patch of Moonlight and this unknown sea.
Crocus's words echoed in his ears again: "You still need to become much, much stronger."
Becoming stronger, in this strange place, with this already incomplete body.
Since the battle with Muzan, his body had suffered severe injuries, and he had also lost his right arm. When he believed he could no longer serve as the Water Hashira, he temporarily resigned from the position to the Ubuyashiki family.
Muzan was dead, and the greatest danger of the past was gone. But now, he had to become stronger with a body that could only wield a sword with his left hand, simply to increase the possibility of returning home.
His left hand subconsciously grasped the hilt of the Blade at his waist. The cold touch brought a moment of calm to his scattered thoughts.
He did not look at Ms. Wednesday again, but walked to an open area in the center of the deck. He slowly drew his Blade, and the cold blade flashed a icy blue under the Moonlight.
He assumed the starting stance of Water Breathing, stepping forward with his left foot, his body slightly sinking. He swung his left hand sharply forward.
The movements were still fluid, carrying the unique rhythm of Water Breathing. But the force was indeed a bit weaker than in the past, and the sound of the blade cutting through the air was no longer as steady.
The ship swayed gently with the waves. Tomioka's center of gravity shifted slightly, and the trajectory of his swing deviated. He quickly adjusted his footing to stabilize himself, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
During the surprise attack by the giant frog Sea King in the sea area called the Calm Belt during the day, he instinctively drew his sword. If it had been before, activating Total Concentration Breathing, that one strike would have been cleaner, more decisive, and more powerful.
But now, the slash from his left hand was indeed a beat slower in both speed and power; he only barely repelled that Sea King. Fortunately, that Luffy eventually used his strange ability to pull himself back onto the ship.
Although now there was the hope of being protected from behind, he didn't want to experience that feeling of powerlessness too many times.
Tomioka swung his sword again. Over and over. He focused on adjusting the angle of his force, feeling the stretching and contraction of his left arm muscles, striving to regain that absolute control over his Blade. Sweat seeped from his forehead, but he paid no mind.
Faint footsteps sounded from behind him.
Tomioka's movements did not stop, but his muscles tensed slightly; he had entered another state of alert.
Ms. Wednesday had turned around at some point and had been silently watching him practice his sword for quite a while. Her gaze fell on his empty right sleeve, and she finally couldn't help but speak, her voice exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
"You can't sleep either?" she asked. Tomioka's sword-swinging paused for a moment but did not stop.
"Mm," he replied, "Not used to the ship."
Ms. Wednesday seemed to be taken aback for a moment, then let out a light laugh, a hint of surprise in her chuckle.
"Are you serious? You're a pirate, yet you're not used to being on a ship?"
"Mm," he still replied with a single word.
Ms. Wednesday walked a few steps closer and leaned against the main mast. "Then why did you come to this sea?" Perhaps with only the two of them left on deck, she felt some interest in this group of pirates and continued to press him.
Her tone carried curiosity and a hint of admonition, "You only have one hand left, do you still want to take risks here? This Grand Line… it's terribly dangerous. Countless people, more complete and stronger than you, have disappeared without a trace. Although your ship has that Mugiwara Captain, the three-sword samurai, and that lecherous-looking cook, it's still not enough to keep going."
[Target: Ms. Wednesday]
[Status: Curious, Probing]
[Preference: Hometown]
[Suggestion: Talk to her quickly!]
Tomioka completed that slash, the tip of his sword pointing diagonally at the deck. Looking at the floating text, he was a little surprised. He was silent for a few seconds, the sea breeze ruffling his dark hair.
"Home," he uttered two simple words, his voice devoid of emotion. After speaking, he raised his sword again.
Home? This answer made Vivi pause again. She watched him throw himself into the tedious and arduous practice once more, his focused profile appearing stern under the Moonlight.
She suddenly smiled again, her laughter tinged with self-mockery and bitterness.
"Home… what a simple reason." She turned her head, gazing once more at the bottomless sea, her voice drifting, "How wonderful, to still have a home to return to."
"Do you know?" She paused, her tone slightly unstable, "Actually, many people on this sea also want to go home, but many places on this sea have already been destroyed by pirates. They commit all sorts of evil, making people who want to go home discover that the place is no longer what it once was when they return."
"Just because these pirates are stronger, they can just casually step into other people's countries and do whatever they want…" Her voice dropped, sounding more like she was talking to herself, "Without enough strength, a simple wish… will only be crushed to dust."
Tomioka's sword swung through the air, this time, not because of the ship's rocking.
Her words were like stones thrown into a lake, creating ripples in Tomioka's heart.
But Tomioka did not respond, only transforming that hope of possibly returning home into an even firmer will, pouring it into his next slash.
The sound of cutting wind rang out again, sharper and steadier than before.
Silence fell upon the deck.
Only the sound of the waves remained, and the continuous, sharp swishes of the sword cutting through the air.
Ms. Wednesday stopped talking; she stood with her arms crossed, looking into the distance. Her thoughts seemed to have drifted back to that dry, scorching country, back to that seemingly endless struggle.
Tomioka was single-minded, repeating the monotonous movements. With each swing of the sword, the soreness in his left arm intensified, but his sense of control over this body and the Blade also seemed to return a little.