Garp Returns! Training From Hell Starts Again!(2)

Garp's pronouncement – "we need to toughen up your muscles including you akane" – hung in the rapidly cooling air of the Mt. Colubo clearing like a death sentence wrapped in a promise of pain. Ace and Luffy looked like they'd just been told all the meat in the world had spontaneously combusted. My own stomach plummeted. More training? With him? After that brief, glorious taste of freedom, of pie, of… well, other things? It felt like a cruel joke.

"B-but Jii-san!" Luffy stammered, his earlier romantic fluster completely replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror. "My muscles are already tough! They're rubber!" He stretched his cheek out to an absurd length to demonstrate, his eyes wide and pleading.

"And mine are… getting there!" Ace chimed in, flexing a bicep that, while undeniably more defined after three months of Garp's abuse, still looked rather scrawny compared to the old man's tree-trunk arms. "We know Rokushiki basics now! Isn't that enough?!"

Garp just scoffed, a sound like rocks grinding together. "Rokushiki basics? Bwahahaha! You brats can barely throw a decent punch without tripping over your own feet or relying on your weird Devil Fruit tricks!" He jabbed a thick finger at Luffy. "Rubber doesn't mean indestructible, idiot! A strong enough blow will still scramble your insides!" He then turned that same finger on Ace. "And 'getting there' isn't good enough when a Sea King is trying to eat you for breakfast, pretty boy!"

Finally, his gaze, sharp and uncompromising, landed on me. "And you, Akane," he rumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That fancy light shield of yours and those paper tricks are clever, I'll give you that. But what happens when you're too tired to concentrate? When your enemy is too fast, too strong, and just smashes right through your little light show?" He poked my shoulder, not gently. "Your body is still a twig, girl! A pretty, fiery twig, maybe, but a twig nonetheless! We need to build some actual muscle on those bones, some grit in that spirit, before you even think about learning techniques that could snap you in half!"

His words, blunt and brutal as always, hit home. He was right. The Tenshi fruit was powerful, yes, but still largely unknown, uncontrolled. The Kaenken burned, but it required precision I didn't always have. Kami-e was exhausting. My physical strength, despite the Rokushiki training, was still a significant weakness. If I was serious about taking down the World Government, I needed more than just Devil Fruit powers and a burning sword. I needed a body that could withstand the fight.

"So," Garp continued, a terrifyingly enthusiastic grin spreading across his face, "forget your fancy Soru dashes and Geppo hops for a while! We're going back to basics! Brutal, unrelenting, muscle-shredding basics!" He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing ominously in the twilight. "Think of it as… advanced conditioning! Garp style!"

Makino, who had been quietly observing the exchange, sighed softly but with a familiar resignation. She knew better than to argue with Vice Admiral Garp when he had that particular glint in his eye. "I'll… I'll prepare a very large dinner then," she said, offering us a sympathetic smile before retreating towards the path leading back down to Foosha Village, presumably to gather enough provisions to feed a small army (or just Luffy and Garp after a hard day's training). Ace looked after her with a pleading expression, as if begging her to take him with her, but she just offered another apologetic shrug and hurried on her way.

No escape.

The "advanced conditioning" began the very next morning, before the sun had even thought about gracing Mt. Colubo with its presence. Garp rousted us from our straw pile with a series of booming shouts and a well-aimed bucket of icy mountain stream water that sent Luffy shrieking and bouncing off the walls of the hut.

"UP AND AT 'EM, MAGGOTS!" Garp roared, already dressed and radiating an unholy amount of morning energy for a man his age. "The early bird gets the worm, and the early brat gets… more training!"

The new regimen was, if possible, even more hellish than the initial Rokushiki introduction. It was less about finesse and technique, and more about raw, mind-numbing, muscle-destroying exertion.

First, there were the "mountain sprints." Not the leisurely laps around the base we'd endured before. These were uphill dashes, straight up the steepest, most treacherous slopes of Mt. Colubo, carrying heavy rocks Garp had conveniently "found" for us. Luffy, despite his rubbery advantages, struggled with the sheer, unrelenting incline and the awkward weight. Ace, driven by pride, pushed himself until his face was purple, his legs trembling. I, being the smallest, was given a slightly smaller rock, but it still felt like carrying a boulder. Garp would run alongside us, sometimes backwards, effortlessly bounding over obstacles, yelling encouragement that sounded suspiciously like insults. "FASTER, YOU SNAILS! ARE THOSE ROCKS OR FEATHER PILLOWS?! MY GRANDMOTHER COULD CARRY BIGGER ROCKS UP THIS MOUNTAIN IN HER SLEEP!"

Then came the "tree chopping." Not with axes, of course. That would be too easy. We had to chop down designated trees using only our fists and feet. Luffy, again, had an advantage here, his Gomu Gomu no Pistol and Axe attacks felling trees with loud THWACKS and CRACKS, though his aim was often terrible, sending trees crashing in unexpected directions (once nearly onto Dadan's hut, resulting in a volley of curses and thrown frying pans that even Garp seemed wary of). Ace, his knuckles already bruised from the previous Tekkai training, gritted his teeth and hammered away at the tree trunks with his pipe-enhanced fists and powerful kicks, sweat pouring down his face, his impacts slowly, agonizingly chipping away at the wood.

For me, this was pure torture. My fists were small, my kicks lacked the raw power of the boys. The first tree Garp assigned me felt like an immovable giant. I punched and kicked until my knuckles were raw and bleeding, my legs aching, the impact jarring my bones. The Tenshi light flickered around my fists instinctively, trying to absorb the shock, but it did little to help fell the tree. Garp just stood there, arms crossed, watching with a critical eye. "MORE POWER, AKANE! DON'T TICKLE IT, HIT IT! IMAGINE IT'S ONE OF THOSE WORLD GOVERNMENT BASTARDS WHO BURNED YOUR HOME! CHANNEL THAT ANGER!"

His words, brutal as they were, struck a chord. Anger. Fury. The burning injustice. I closed my eyes, picturing the indifferent faces of the Marines, the flames devouring Hi-no-Kuni, the cold eyes of Saint Saturn. A different kind of heat flared within me, not the gentle warmth of the Tenshi fruit, but the searing rage I usually kept locked away. My next punch, fueled by that darkness, connected with the tree with a force that surprised even me. A small crack appeared in the bark. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

After hours of sprints and tree-chopping, when our muscles were screaming and our spirits were begging for mercy, Garp would introduce the "rock lifting." These weren't the manageable rocks from the sprints. These were boulders. Massive, misshapen chunks of granite that looked like they belonged in a giant's rock garden. We had to lift them, carry them a certain distance, then lift them again. And again. And again.

Luffy could stretch and contort to get a grip, but even his rubbery strength was tested. Ace strained until the veins stood out on his neck, his face a mask of exertion, grunting with every lift. I could barely budge the smallest boulder Garp assigned me. He'd stand over me, yelling. "USE YOUR LEGS, GIRL! YOUR CORE! DON'T TRY TO MUSCLE IT WITH THOSE SPINDLY ARMS! FIND YOUR CENTER! DIG DEEP!"

Sometimes, during these exercises, my control over the Tenshi fruit would manifest in unexpected ways. When trying to lift a particularly heavy rock, a surge of light might momentarily infuse my limbs, granting a burst of surprising strength, allowing me to shift the unmovable. Or, when Garp decided to "test our reflexes" by suddenly throwing said rocks at us, the light would flare, creating a shimmering barrier that deflected the projectile, much to Garp's feigned annoyance (and underlying approval). He never commented directly on these uncontrolled bursts, just grunted and pushed us harder.

And then there was the sparring. Not the relatively controlled Rokushiki practice. This was Garp, unleashing a fraction of his true power, forcing us to use everything we had – our fledgling Six Powers, our Devil Fruits, our wits, our sheer desperation – just to survive. He wouldn't use his Galaxy Impact, of course, or anything truly devastating. But his punches still felt like being hit by cannonballs. His speed, even when holding back, was blinding.

He'd fight all three of us at once, a whirlwind of fists and feet, forcing us to work together, to anticipate each other's movements, to cover each other's weaknesses. Luffy would be the rubbery vanguard, absorbing blows, stretching to attack from unexpected angles. Ace would be the agile striker, darting in and out, using Soru bursts and his pipe to land quick, powerful hits. I became the unpredictable variable – using Kami-e to evade, the Kaenken's heat to create openings, and those sudden, uncontrolled bursts of Tenshi-enhanced speed or strength to surprise Garp or save one of the boys from a particularly nasty hit.

"GOOD! COORDINATE!" Garp would roar, deflecting Luffy's punch with one hand while simultaneously sidestepping Ace's pipe swing and blocking a burning sweep from my Kaenken with a Haki-infused forearm (though we didn't know it was Haki then; it just seemed impossibly hard). "DON'T JUST FLAIL AROUND! THINK! ANTICIPATE! FIGHT LIKE YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO LIVE!"

Evenings were spent huddled in Dadan's hut, tending to our bruises, cuts, and aching muscles. Makino would often come up the mountain, bringing extra food, bandages, and her gentle, soothing presence. She'd listen to Luffy's exaggerated tales of the day's training, offer quiet encouragement to Ace, and give me small, understanding smiles that spoke volumes. Dadan, for all her grumbling, always seemed to have extra portions of stew on hand after Garp's "visits," and sometimes, if we were particularly battered, she'd even offer a pungent herbal salve that stung like crazy but actually helped with the bruising.

During these brief moments of respite, the awkwardness from the accidental kiss slowly began to fade, replaced by the deeper, more comfortable bond forged in shared suffering and burgeoning affection. Luffy, once he got over his initial mortification, reverted to his usual cheerful, affectionate self, though sometimes I'd catch him looking at me with that same soft, shy expression he'd had on the rock, his cheeks flushing faintly before he'd quickly look away or stuff his face with food. Ace continued his teasing, of course, but it was less relentless now, more good-natured, often punctuated by his own groans of pain from Garp's training.

One evening, after a particularly brutal day where Garp had made us carry each other up and down the mountain until we all collapsed, we were all sitting outside the hut, watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues. Luffy was, predictably, asleep, his head lolling on Ace's shoulder this time. Ace was staring into the distance, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know," Ace said quietly, not looking at me, "Gramps… he's a monster. His training is insane. But…" He paused, struggling for the right words. "He wouldn't do this if he didn't… care. In his own stupid, punch-happy way." He glanced at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "He wouldn't have come back for us. For you."

I didn't reply, just watched the colors bleed across the horizon. Care? Garp's methods were brutal, often terrifying. But Ace was right. There was a strange, twisted sort of affection in his relentless pushing, in his refusal to let us be weak. He was forging us into weapons, yes, but perhaps he was also trying to give us the strength to survive the world he knew was waiting for us, the world that had already tried to crush us.

The days turned into weeks, the weeks into another month, then two. The initial shock of Garp's extended stay wore off, replaced by a grim acceptance of our new reality. We got stronger. Our muscles, no longer twig-like, became lean and hard. Our Rokushiki techniques, while still far from mastered, became more fluid, more instinctual. My control over the Tenshi fruit's basic defensive light solidified, and I even began to tentatively experiment with its other aspects in secret moments away from Garp's critical eye – a faint healing warmth when I focused, a brighter, more intense burst of light that could momentarily blind.

The bond between the three of us deepened, forged in the shared crucible of Garp's training. We learned to anticipate each other's moves in a fight, to cover each other's weaknesses without a word. Luffy's unwavering optimism, Ace's fierce loyalty, my own grim determination – we complemented each other, a strange, mismatched trio becoming something more.

And the unspoken thing between me and Luffy… it continued to simmer, a quiet warmth beneath the surface of our daily struggles. Stolen glances, accidental touches that lingered a moment too long, shared smiles over a particularly ludicrous training mishap. The memory of that clumsy, accidental kiss, and the hesitant confession that followed, was a silent, precious secret we both carried, a fragile spark of light in the surrounding darkness.

One evening, after a day spent entirely on what Garp called "endurance conditioning" – which mostly involved him chasing us through the most dangerous parts of the forest until we collapsed from sheer exhaustion – we were all too tired to even eat. Luffy was asleep on my lap this time, his breathing soft and even. Ace was leaning against a tree nearby, cleaning his pipe, his eyes closed. Garp was staring into the campfire Makino had built, unusually quiet.

"You know, Akane," Garp said suddenly, his voice low, not looking at me. "That anger of yours… the fire you carry for your island…" He paused, poking at the embers with a stick. "It's a powerful fuel. But it can burn you up from the inside if you let it."

He finally turned, his gaze serious, surprisingly gentle. "Don't let it consume everything else. Don't let it blind you to the things worth protecting right in front of you." His gaze flickered pointedly towards the sleeping Luffy, then to Ace.

He stood up, stretching his massive frame. "Get some rest, brats," he said, his voice regaining some of its usual gruffness. "Tomorrow… tomorrow we start working on your individual weapons training more seriously." He grinned, a flash of his old, terrifying enthusiasm. "Time to see if that fancy fire sword of yours is more than just a pretty poker, Akane. And Ace, that pipe of yours could use some… refinement."

He started to walk towards Dadan's hut, then paused, looking back over his shoulder, a strange, thoughtful expression on his face.

"And Luffy…" he began, his voice dropping again, a hint of something almost… proud in his tone. "Maybe it's time we started figuring out what that ridiculous rubber body of yours is really capable of when you stop just bouncing around like an idiot."