"Eh? Natsuya-nii, why are you still out here?"
Just then, a familiar voice called out from the right side of the training grounds.
Saved!
Nao immediately turned his head and saw Rosinante approaching, feigning a casual wave as he wiped at his sweat and replied with a smile, "I'm heading back now. I still had some energy left today, so I did a bit of extra training."
"Oh."
Rosinante, dressed in his pajamas and holding a carton of milk, looked half-asleep, as if he'd just wandered out of his dreams.
Nao immediately knew what was going on—this guy had a habit of wandering out at night for a carton of milk if he couldn't sleep, drinking it down before going back to bed.
"Come on, let's head back together."
Nao grabbed his jacket from the wall and, walking alongside the utterly oblivious Rosinante, left the training grounds and made their way toward the male barracks, chatting as they went.
Nao never once looked back, afraid that Shia might be standing under that streetlamp and intercept him, pulling him into some melodramatic drama fit for prime-time TV.
It wasn't until they reached their dorm room on the fifth floor that Nao finally risked a glance back over the railing toward the training grounds.
The black streetlamp still cast its dim light into the night, but the figure that had been quietly crying was nowhere to be seen.
Looks like Shia finally figured it out.
As Nao recalled the events at the training grounds, he carefully reviewed his own reactions and confirmed that he'd felt no trace of romantic feelings.
That settled it. If he didn't like her, then he owed it to her to reject her firmly and clearly.
When it came to emotions, he believed in being as serious as he was with training. It was a matter of principle.
He turned his gaze away from the window and knocked on the dorm door.
A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a grumpy-looking Shiryu.
"Well, if it isn't our training maniac finally deciding to come back?"
Shiryu, towering at over three meters tall, glared down at Nao, not bothering to hide his irritation at being woken up. He sneered, "You're usually back by eight, tops. But now it's nearly ten. Any later and I would've thought it was time for morning assembly."
"And you!"
Shiryu's eyes snapped to the bleary-eyed Rosinante, who was still holding his unopened milk carton. "Going out in the middle of the night to buy milk and forgetting your key? Really?"
"I—I…" Rosinante shrank back, startled. "I wasn't really awake. I just went out to get milk and… forgot..."
Shiryu's glare sharpened, sweeping between Nao and Rosinante like a predator sizing up his prey.
"I promise, I'll be back earlier next time," Nao said earnestly, placing a hand over his heart as if swearing an oath.
"Me too! I'll remember my key next time!" Rosinante quickly echoed.
"..."
Shiryu glowered at them both. Even half-asleep, he vaguely recalled hearing similar promises countless times over the past year.
A few seconds later, he finally let them inside, grumbling under his breath as they closed the door quietly behind them.
Though both Nao and Rosinante now sported fresh bumps on their heads, faintly steaming under the dorm light.
Seizing the moment, Shiryu snatched Rosinante's milk carton and downed it in one gulp before striding triumphantly to his bed. Sighing contentedly, he switched off the light and settled in for sleep.
"Natsuya-nii…"
Rosinante, looking pitiful, turned to Nao.
"Hey, it's for your own good," Nao replied half-heartedly, not even looking up. "Shiryu's just making sure you won't wake up in the middle of the night to pee. Get some sleep."
He was already sitting at his desk, reading through the letter from home that Garp had delivered earlier in the day. As a member of the elite training camp, Nao enjoyed much better living conditions than ordinary Marines. Most dorm rooms housed just two or three occupants, with ample space and furnished with desks, wardrobes, refrigerators, and other amenities.
Nao's desk was piled with books—manuals on Rokushiki fundamentals, swordsmanship guides, and thick tomes covering military theory, naval operations, and battle case studies.
After all, the elite camp was designed to train future Marine officers. Cultural studies might not take up much daily time, but they were still essential.
"Still as nagging as ever, huh…"
Nao scratched his head, finishing the letter and placing the white family letter together with Bellemere's pink one into an envelope, carefully storing it in his desk drawer. Then, chewing on his pen, he began to ponder his reply.
The letter from his parents was nothing out of the ordinary—full of familiar admonitions to work hard, not to let down Vice Admiral Garp's recommendation, to avoid conflicts with comrades, and to cultivate good relationships…
He understood his parents' concern and even felt a sense of warmth. In this world, to have family thinking of him from afar, nagging or not, was a precious happiness.
In the past, when his training progress had been slow, Nao often felt embarrassed replying and tried to gloss over things. But after today, everything had changed.
After organizing his thoughts, he finally put pen to paper and started writing. His early lines were serious, addressing his parents' concerns. But as the letter progressed, youthful bravado took over, and the embellishments began.
He confidently promised that by the time he graduated from the elite camp next year, he'd be at least a Marine Major—four ranks above his father's current position as a Branch Captain.
He even declared that he would eventually become an Admiral, living in a grand mansion in Marineford provided by Headquarters. By then, his father would be retired, and the whole family could move in together and enjoy a life of honor, envied by everyone back home.
By the time he finished the letter, it was already close to midnight. Rosinante had fallen asleep without his milk, and Shiryu's snores rumbled through the room.
Nao sealed the envelope, planning to send it back to East Blue through the Navy's internal channels the next day.
He dimmed the desk lamp, stretched, and stood up to take a shower before bed. But as he absentmindedly glanced at the system interface, he froze, staring at the notification on the screen.