The night was alive with the hush of wind and the bright glow of stars, a silvery river stretching across the sky, gleaming like a painting.
In the distance, over the Civilian district, bursts of colorful fireworks bloomed, showering the night with fleeting streaks of red and gold beneath the full moon. The laughter of children floated over the walls, mingled with the pitter-patter of their playful footsteps.
Inside, the table was set with dishes still steaming in the soft glow of candlelight.
Miso soup with floating seaweed, grilled eel glistening with fat, thin slices of wagyu beef roasted to perfection, cold tofu quivering like jelly, and three bowls of perfectly steamed white rice. The fragrant steam curled into the air, carrying the scent of home and hearth.
Beside him sat two women, each beautiful in her own way, yet utterly different in style and spirit. It was a scene that should have made any man's heart beat faster.
And yet, Darren felt like he was sitting on a bed of needles.
To his left, Toki knelt in the formal seiza posture, as serene and graceful as always. She wore a loose kimono dress in gentle greens, her long hair coiled up in a simple wooden pin. A faint flush of womanly charm colored her features, a gentle dignity that only deepened with time.
Darren's eyes drifted, only for a moment, down to where the soft curve of her hips pressed lightly against the white stockings wrapped around her feet.
But before he could linger, a sharp, dangerous look sliced across from his right.
He quickly turned away and found himself facing Gion.
Tonight, Gion was in her usual snug, black mini-skirt uniform, high ponytail and sharp eyes accentuating the mix of youth and fierce elegance that had always surrounded her. Her arms were crossed beneath her chest, hiding her pale arms beneath the curve of her bust, and her gaze was nothing short of menacing.
He swallowed hard.
"Ah… Gion, what brings you here tonight?" he asked, attempting to break the icy tension with a polite, almost clueless smile.
But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.
Gion raised a brow, her smirk cold and biting.
"What? Am I not welcome?" she said, her tone dripping with mockery. "Or am I disturbing your cozy domestic life?"
"No, no, of course not," Darren said quickly, laughing awkwardly. "It's just, well, it's a holiday… I thought maybe Vice Admiral Tsuru would be expecting you for dinner—"
True, back in the North Blue, charming women was a familiar game to him. But Gion was no bored lady of high society. She was the Marine's beloved "Flower of the Marines," a woman who had once dared to call Garp "little Garp."
And now he'd gone and… well, gotten involved with her.
Yes, he could try to argue it was "against his will," but who would listen to that? Who could he possibly explain it to—Sengoku? Tsuru? Garp? Zephyr?
No, better to keep it to himself. And besides, if he was honest, he couldn't pretend he didn't enjoy it.
At least, all four times.
"Tsuru and Admiral Sengoku are at Vice Admiral Garp's tonight," Gion said coolly, her eyes narrowing.
He flinched slightly at that.
At that moment, Toki turned to her with a gentle smile, her warm presence like a balm in the charged air.
"Gion-chan was my guest tonight," Toki said sweetly. "I thought, since she was once your subordinate in the North Blue, and now she's your fellow cadet in the training camp, it would be good for you both to… reconnect a little. And with the festival, it seemed the perfect time."
She looked at Darren with a tender warmth, her eyes shining.
"You don't mind, do you, my husband?" she said softly.
Darren blinked. For a moment, he didn't know how to answer.
But when he saw the way Toki's hand rested lightly on Gion's, and the way Gion stiffened, then slowly relaxed, he realized what Toki was doing.
She was helping him.
She was smoothing the edges of this impossible situation.
"Of course not," he said quickly, his smile returning. "It's… a good thing."
He noticed how Gion's frown softened just a little, the icy edge in her eyes dulling as she allowed Toki's touch to settle her.
Toki turned back to her, her voice gentle and inviting.
"Shall we start then, Gion-chan?" she said, her tone like the softest lullaby. "I hope you won't mind my humble cooking tonight."
Gion gave a small, almost shy shake of her head.
"Not at all," she said quietly.
And so, the three of them began their meal together beneath the warm light of the lamps and the faint crackle of fireworks outside.
"Here, my dear, try this miso soup," Toki said, ladling some into a bowl for Darren and handing it to him with a smile that glowed in the dim light.
He took a sip and his eyes widened.
"It's delicious," he said honestly, his praise bringing a pleased flush to Toki's cheeks.
He'd never been a huge fan of miso soup—it always seemed too salty—but somehow hers was perfectly balanced, a gentle sweetness and depth that was hard to describe.
Toki's eyes brightened even more at his words, and she turned to Gion.
"Gion-chan, please try it too," she said.
Gion hesitated, but she took the offered bowl, her eyes meeting Toki's calm, steady gaze.
At first, she'd been reluctant to even come here. When she'd seen Toki at her door, dressed like a perfect wife, her heart had twisted with a guilt she hadn't been able to name. Like she was trespassing on something sacred.
But Toki's warmth had been impossible to turn away from. Her quiet hospitality, her genuine grace—Gion had found herself unable to refuse.
And deep down, there was another feeling. A fierce competitiveness. A need to see, with her own eyes, just what sort of woman this was.
But as she sat here, watching Toki carefully arrange each dish, feeling the warmth of the miso broth against her lips, she realized something that made her chest ache.
She couldn't compare.
Toki wasn't just kind—she was… everything. Everything Gion knew she couldn't be.
She tasted the soup and her eyes softened, a quiet, almost embarrassed smile pulling at her lips.
"It's very good," she said softly.
And for a moment, in the soft glow of the holiday lanterns, the three of them sat together in fragile peace.
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To be continued...