Could it really be true?
That proud and stubborn Gion... she had actually gone to Vice Admiral Tsuru, blushing and stammering, to plead with her to persuade Admiral Sengoku to send reinforcements on his behalf?
Darren could hardly imagine it. He found it nearly impossible to picture the usually aloof and dignified Gion, standing there in front of Tsuru, red-faced and unable to get a single word out.
"My dear, you really are too careless... or maybe it's more accurate to say your thoughts simply don't rest on a woman's heart."
Toki gave Darren's arm a gentle push, a note of mild reproach in her voice.
"Gion-chan is a very good woman. She's just a little stubborn on the surface, but she has a kind heart. Even if she won't say it out loud, she clearly has feelings for you."
This feels like some sort of trap for me...
Darren's eyebrow twitched slightly. He glanced carefully at Toki and asked tentatively:
"You... you're not angry?"
Toki just beamed, her delicate features radiating pride and mischief.
"Of course not! After all, I'm your first wife."
The way women can so naturally slip into these comparisons—honestly, it's both baffling and terrifying...
Darren couldn't help but grumble inwardly at the thought.
Then Toki paused, considering, before adding softly:
"Besides, Gion-chan holds a special position within Marine Headquarters. If she could also become your woman, wouldn't that be a great help to your future career as well?"
Look at her! Such understanding!
Darren almost wanted to burst into tears from the overwhelming emotion. He couldn't stop himself—he pulled Toki into a tight embrace, his voice low and sincere:
"Toki, you're wonderful."
A wife —so gentle, wise, and tolerant—where else could he possibly find one?
Darren realized then that maybe there was something worthwhile in the traditional ways of Wano... or maybe, just maybe, their customs weren't so bad after all.
Toki's cheeks flushed a delicate pink under Darren's sudden enthusiasm. She squirmed slightly in his arms, lowering her head in shy embarrassment, her voice as soft as a whisper.
Above them, the inky night sky was lit up with bursts of color, fireworks in full bloom like dazzling falling stars.
That flickering brilliance only made Gion's solitary figure, walking alone through the streets, seem all the more lonely and small.
"That damned bastard!"
"I can't believe I even let myself hope for a second!"
Gion's hands were crossed tightly over her slender shoulders, her cheeks puffed out in frustrated anger as she muttered under her breath.
Little pebbles on the ground were sent skittering ahead with every fierce kick of her foot.
She thought of that warm, peaceful "home,"
and of that perfect, gentle woman—so flawlessly kind that Gion found herself unable to muster even the smallest bit of anger toward her.
An ache spread in her chest, hollow and cold.
The year-end wind gusted through the empty streets, biting into her skin, and Gion instinctively hugged her shoulders tighter.
Far off in the distance, children laughed, families gathered, bright lanterns glowed in every window.
But none of it belonged to her.
A wave of hollow emptiness rose up inside her, sharper than any blade.
Gion ground out another curse, sending yet another stone flying down the street. She felt her eyes begin to sting.
"You keep kicking those rocks, and the whole street will be empty soon."
A lazy, drawling voice spoke up behind her.
Gion's heart jumped. She hurriedly brushed at her eyes before turning to see the Marine commodore standing there with a faintly mocking smile.
Her eyes flashed, and she snapped:
"What are you doing here?"
"Shouldn't you be at home with your perfect wife?"
Seeing her red-rimmed eyes and hearing that bitter tone, Darren couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. A flicker of mischief glinted in his eyes as he winked:
"There's still plenty of time tonight to spend with Toki. No rush."
"And besides, as the host, I had to come out and see my guest off properly."
Guest... he called her a guest?
That single word struck something deep in Gion's chest. She bit down on her lip, her eyes growing redder as she said through clenched teeth:
"You don't have to see me off! I can find my own way back! Go back to your perfect, gentle wife... After all, I'm nothing more than a guest to you, isn't that right?"
"No, no... You're not just my guest."
Darren shook his head slowly.
"Then what am I to you?"
Gion looked up suddenly, a faint, fragile glimmer of hope in her eyes. Her voice was carried by the night air—small, uncertain, but edged with a desperate longing:
"Tell me—what am I to you?"
Darren scratched the back of his head, feigning a troubled expression.
"You're a subordinate who's always arguing with me;"
"A colleague who never hesitates to call me a piece of trash;"
"A comrade with a surprisingly cute, sweet side, even if you hide it behind that tough exterior..."
He counted them off on his fingers, one by one, as though reciting some carefully memorized list.
"...Yeah, I'd say that about covers it."
With every word, Gion's expression grew darker and darker, until at last her entire face was like ice, her fury radiating outwards:
"You... you... you—!"
But before she could let loose her anger, she felt his lips suddenly pressing against hers.
Her body tensed in shock, instinctively trying to pull away, but a rough, calloused hand had already wrapped firmly around her slender waist, holding her in place, drawing her in close.
The smoky scent of tobacco filled her senses, and Gion's eyes went wide in disbelief. But even as her mind told her to fight, her body began to melt into his warmth.
All the emotions she'd bottled up—love and hate, resentment and longing—rushed through her like a flood, washing away every last bit of resistance.
Her eyes fluttered shut. Slowly, her hands rose to circle Darren's neck, pulling him closer still.
Ten long seconds passed.
Finally, their lips parted.
A thin, glistening thread of saliva stretched between them as they drew back, and Gion stood there, dazed and breathless, her face burning bright red.
She'd... she'd actually kissed him like that... right in the middle of the street.
A sudden jolt of panic had her glancing quickly around. Seeing no one else in sight, she let out a tiny, relieved sigh.
Then she remembered her anger.
"You bastard, what the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"What do you take me for!?"
She glared at him, lips bitten red.
Darren simply savored the memory of that kiss, his eyes softening as he looked at the flushed woman before him. A surge of satisfaction rose in his chest.
"I thought I already answered that."
Before Gion could find the words to unleash her fury, Darren's eyes grew gentle, and he smiled:
"You're the woman I love."
All her resentment, all her bitterness—gone, vanished in an instant.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, barely daring to believe what she'd heard:
"You... you said... what?"
"Come on. Let me show you something."
He didn't give her a chance to protest. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her slender waist and raised a hand.
In a single, fluid motion, a black blade shot through the air and landed with a quiet thud at Darren's side.
Gion forgot all about struggling. She stared at the blade, her eyes wide with curiosity and awe.
"From the Wano country. One of the rare demon blades said to be able to 'cut through hell itself'... Enma."
Darren spoke casually, as if it were nothing special, then added:
"Don't even think about taking it—it took me a lot of effort to tame this one."