The crowd surged like a restless tide.
From his place atop the high platform, Zephyr watched the young figures approach, step by steady step. Behind the dark tint of his sunglasses, his eyes were faintly rimmed red, his smile soft with pride.
He straightened unconsciously, chest out, back rigid, a soldier to the last.
For him, no medal, no accolade, no title could match this moment—seeing the students he had personally trained stride into their futures beneath the world’s gaze, carrying the burning ember of Justice in their hearts. This was the greatest satisfaction a Chief Instructor could ever know.
Below the platform, the cadets of the Training Camp stood in perfect formation, awaiting their turn. One by one, they would walk up to claim the fruits of their hard work.
He sauntered forward, hands in pockets, stifling a yawn. With deliberate laziness, he raised a hand in salute.
"Zephyr-sensei," he drawled.
Zephyr’s smile twitched. "Kuzan, snap out of it! This is a live broadcast to the whole world—and the press is all over the place!" he hissed.
Kuzan scratched his head, voice flat as a becalmed sea. "But, Zephyr-sensei... Darren’s not here. Hard to feel the hype."
A deep vein throbbed in Zephyr’s temple. His jaw tightened.
Still, he motioned for a guard to bring the ceremonial cloak. Taking it in both hands, he straightened and announced in a ringing voice that carried to every corner of the square:
"Captain Kuzan of Marine Headquarters has shown exceptional valor and strength during the Marineford War. On behalf of Marine Headquarters, I hereby confer upon you the rank of Rear Admiral!"
He draped the heavy white coat over Kuzan’s shoulders, fixing the younger man with a burning gaze. His smile softened. "Congratulations, Rear Admiral Kuzan. Now... a few words."
Kuzan ambled toward the microphone, eyes half-closed. His air of sleepy indifference was almost a parody of the solemn atmosphere. Facing the expectant crowd, he scratched his head.
Then Zephyr stepped close, murmuring in his ear, "Darren will be here soon. Don’t let him outshine you."
The shift was instant.
Kuzan’s eyes lit with sudden fire. His posture straightened. Then he flung his arm high, flashing a jaunty "V" sign.
"That’s right!" he boomed, his voice suddenly electric. "I am Darren’s arch-rival for life—Kuzan! And I’ll never lose to him!"
The crowd blinked at the transformation.
Before Zephyr could relax, Kuzan pivoted toward the audience. "Oh, and Mr. Garp!" he called. "I heard you beat ’Red the Aloof’ Redfield and turned down a promotion. That’s so badass!"
"Hah—!" Garp’s bark of laughter was cut short as Sengoku slapped a hand over his mouth.
And then Zephyr’s hand clamped over Kuzan’s face. Without a word, the Chief Instructor dragged him bodily offstage, the younger man’s legs kicking helplessly.
From the audience, Garp managed to wave. "Bwahaha! Kuzan, you’re pretty—mmph! Sengoku! Let go!"
The stunned silence of the crowd hung heavy... until Zephyr strode stiffly back onto the platform.
He cleared his throat twice. "Ahem. Next."
Gion stepped forward, the click of her high heels crisp in the charged air. The golden hilt of her katana gleamed at her side; her bearing was poised, her salute sharp.
This—this was the kind of student that made Zephyr proud.
"Commander Gion of Marine Headquarters," he declared, "for your outstanding service in the Marineford War, and your exemplary academic and martial achievements, I hereby promote you to Commodore!"
He settled the justice cloak over her shoulders.
Gion turned to the microphone, her voice clear, steady, and concise. "All glory belongs to Justice."
Applause swelled, rolling like thunder. The earlier absurdity seemed to melt away. High-ranking officers in the audience exchanged smiles.
"As expected of Gion."
"Her talent, strength, and presence are exceptional."
"Tsuru, your sister is truly remarkable."
The warmth of shared pride filled the air.
From the crowd, a lanky figure in flip-flops and shorts strolled onto the stage, brown hat tipped low, toothpick dancing between his teeth. Tokikake swaggered forward as though the ceremony existed for him alone.
Zephyr’s lips twitched. He had a bad feeling.
"Zephyr-sensei!" Tokikake barked, snapping a sloppy salute.
"...Energetic as ever," Zephyr said dryly. Then, briskly: "Commander Tokikake of Marine Headquarters, for your merits in the Marineford War, you are hereby promoted to Commodore!"
Zephyr slipped the justice coat over his shoulders. "No speech necessary," he whispered. "Just—"
But Tokikake had already vanished, reappearing at the microphone in a flash of Soru.
Zephyr closed his eyes.
Tokikake gripped the stand, cheeks flushed, chest swelling with grandiose self-importance. Play it cool, he told himself. This is your moment. Outshine Darren.
"Greetings, everyone!" he began, voice pitched to the rafters. "Yes, it’s me—Tokikake, genius of Marine Headquarters! You’ve all heard my name! I’m the man who stands with the monsters, the future Admiral, the very future of Justice itself!"
He threw back his head and laughed, hands on hips. Then, spotting a cluster of women in the crowd, his grin turned sly.
"Also... good news, ladies. I’m still a golden bachelor! So whether you’re single—or, ah... unhappily married—don’t be shy. Come see this perfect physique for yourself. My Den Den Mushi number is—"
A black fist smashed into his face, sending him cartwheeling through the air like a shot from a cannon. Sunlight flashed off the lone tooth that spiraled down from his mouth.
"Zephyr-sensei! Please, calm down!"
"Sir, stop! You’ll kill him!"
But Zephyr roared like a man possessed, struggling against the Marines holding him back. "Let me go! I’ll finish that idiot here and now!"