The day Vice Admiral Tsuru arrived, the skies opened up and rain began to fall—gentle, steady, and endless. It was as if the heavens themselves shared Sister Silina's quiet sorrow at watching him leave.
"Vice Admiral Tsuru," Kuzan said calmly, standing before her, "may I ask the Marines for a small favor?"
Tsuru turned toward him, her expression composed yet warm. "Of course, Kuzan. If you have a request, please speak freely."
She already knew the kind of person standing before her. A Logia-type Devil Fruit user—especially one who had eaten the Ice-Ice Fruit—was a rare gift from the sea itself. With proper training, he could one day become a pillar of Marine justice.
Thinking of the other rising stars of the era—Sakazuki and Borsalino—she could tell that the young man before her was no less exceptional.
"Please protect my family," Kuzan said softly, his tone steady but cold beneath the surface. "I just want Aunt Silina to live peacefully. If anyone ever harms her… I'll make sure every one of them regrets being born."
Though his voice never rose, the weight of his words froze the air between them. It wasn't a threat—it was a promise. Kuzan knew that even within the Marines, political struggles and factional conflicts were real. The tragedy that had taken Instructor Zephyr's family was proof enough of that. He refused to let such a fate touch the woman who had saved him.
"I understand," Tsuru replied without hesitation. "Your family's safety will be guaranteed. I promise this as the Chief of Staff of the Marines."
Her words were absolute—an oath backed by both her authority and her conviction.
And so, Kuzan left the West Blue behind. The quiet island he had called home for nearly eight years faded into the distance as the warship set sail toward Marine Headquarters.
The voyage was calm. Waves rolled gently beneath the hull, and a salty breeze swept across the deck.
Kuzan sat silently at the bow of the ship, staring at the horizon. He didn't train, didn't drink, and didn't speak to the curious young sailors who kept sneaking glances at him. He just sat there, still and distant, as if his thoughts were somewhere far beyond the sea.
For him, this wasn't a journey forward—it was a farewell.
He had lived in this world for years now, long enough for the memories of his former life to fade like an old dream. Whatever he once was, whoever he had been before, he would bury it here—deep in the coldest part of his heart.
The female sailors couldn't hide their curiosity. He was too quiet, too young, and far too important. Even Vice Admiral Tsuru herself treated him with unusual respect. That alone made him the subject of endless whispers and speculation.
Tsuru, too, was intrigued. Sengoku's report had already described Kuzan's power in detail, but since she'd met him, he hadn't revealed even a trace of it. Not a single drop of frost touched the air around him.
Of course, she didn't doubt Sengoku's intelligence. No one would ever dare deceive the highest ranks of the Marines. But the mystery surrounding this young man made her even more curious.
The quieter he was, the more she wanted to know.
And Kuzan understood this perfectly.
He wasn't like the original Kuzan, whose power would leak without warning, freezing everything in sight. His control had long surpassed that stage. He had already pushed his Ice-Ice Fruit to the level of awakening, and with his imagination, his command over the element of ice now rivaled that of an admiral.
But he chose to remain discreet.
Silence breeds mystery, and mystery breeds power.
"Kuzan," Tsuru said one afternoon, approaching him on the deck, "I've heard that you possess the Ice-Ice Fruit—a top-class Logia ability. As someone who's seen many Devil Fruit users, I can't help but be curious. Would you allow me the honor of witnessing your power?"
Her tone was kind and respectful, and the surrounding sailors immediately perked up, their eyes full of anticipation.
Kuzan's eyelids lifted slowly. Without a word, he rose from his seat, walked to the edge of the deck, and stepped off the ship.
The sailors gasped in horror.
"He jumped!"
"Someone fell overboard! Stop the ship!"
Before they could act, the warship jolted violently and came to an abrupt halt. The sudden stop sent several sailors tumbling across the deck.
Then silence.
The sea around them—stretching to the horizon—had frozen solid in an instant. The waves were locked mid-motion, the ocean's movement erased in the blink of an eye.
The sailors stared in disbelief, unable to speak. The sheer magnitude of the power before them left their minds blank.
"T-The seaIt's's frozen…" one whispered, voice trembling.
Kuzan reappeared moments later, stepping lightly from the ice back onto the deck as if nothing had happened. He returned to his place, sat down, and stared quietly ahead once again.
The frozen sea remained untouched and motionless—an endless plain of crystal blue ice reflecting the gray sky.
Vice Admiral Tsuru's composure faltered for the first time.
To freeze the sea in an instant… that level of control and power… She knew exactly what it meant. This was no ordinary recruit. This was a prodigy—a weapon of unimaginable potential.
She took a slow breath, then spoke. "I understand now, Kuzan. Your strength speaks for itself. The Navy's future truly rests with people like you. Well done."
Kuzan said nothing. He simply released his power, and slowly, the ice began to melt. The ship resumed its gentle motion across the sea.
The sailors could barely tear their eyes away from him. Awe and admiration glimmered in their expressions—some even blushing faintly.
So young… and yet that strong…
Kuzan ignored their whispers, his gaze distant once more.
Tsuru quietly ordered the sailors back to their duties so they wouldn't disturb him. Then she returned to her cabin and picked up the Den Den Mushi to report to Sengoku.
When Sengoku heard of Kuzan's demonstration, he was ecstatic. "So it's true," he said, excitement barely contained. "His control is already that refined? Incredible!"
He knew then that Kuzan was something different. Even when Sakazuki and Borsalino had joined, they hadn't possessed such composure or mastery. Even now, it was uncertain whether their fruits were developed to this degree.
The image of an entire sea frozen solid burned in Sengoku's mind. His heart pounded with a rare, genuine thrill.
"Have Zephyr test him personally," he ordered finally. "I want to see exactly how strong this boy really is."
And so, the ship sailed on toward Marine Headquarters.