Three years had passed since Haru began his training under Vice Admiral Gion's command and under the strict, relentless supervision of Naomi, the red-haired daughter of Admiral Akainu. Those years were grueling — an endless whirlwind of broken bones, sweat-drenched nights, and a test of will so brutal that most would have quit halfway through the first month. But Haru wasn't most people. Every bruise was a lesson. Every drop of blood, a step forward.
Now, standing in the center of the Marine G-1 Base's elite training ground, Haru had fully mastered all six primary Rokushiki techniques. From the ground-shattering Tekkai to the lightning-fast Soru, Haru had turned each technique into an extension of his own fighting style. But there was still one last test: the seventh and final technique — Rokuogan, the secret finishing move that only true masters of the style could wield.
And the person standing in front of him to judge his worth… was Naomi.
She stood there in her combat attire — navy blue jacket undone just enough to give her room to breathe, black boots, a short tactical skirt over tights, and her signature crimson axe slung over her shoulder. Her long red hair was tied tightly behind her head, and her piercing ocean-blue eyes held a mix of seriousness… and something warmer that had grown over the years of training with Haru.
"You've come a long way, pink-hair," Naomi said, stretching her arms and cracking her neck. "But the final test isn't about what you know… it's about whether or not you can use it under real pressure."
Haru unsheathed his two blades: Honjo, his finely balanced katana forged by Musashi himself, and Odachi, the long curved blade used for wide-reaching power strikes.
"Ready when you are," Haru said, his voice calm.
Naomi grinned. "Then let's see what you've got."
The Battle Begins
Without warning, Naomi vanished from sight — using Soru, the high-speed movement technique. Haru, having learned the same move, activated his Observation Haki just in time to predict her trajectory. He brought up Honjo and clashed with Naomi mid-air as she came down with her axe.
CLANG!
The sound reverberated through the open training arena like a gunshot. Naomi was strong — brutally strong. Her Armament Haki coated the axe in a thick layer of obsidian-black willpower. Haru struggled against it, his own blades trembling under the weight, but his own Haki was solid. His body had been tempered for this.
He used Geppo, the Moonwalk technique, to launch himself into the air, spinning mid-air and striking downward with his Odachi. Naomi blocked the blow with the handle of her axe, then twisted and slammed the blunt end into Haru's stomach. He grunted and flipped backward, catching himself with Rankyaku — firing a cutting air blade with his foot to force her to dodge.
"Not bad," she said, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. "You're getting faster."
"And you're not holding back."
"You wouldn't want me to."
Breaking the Limit
Naomi charged, her axe glowing with concentrated Haki. Haru grounded himself, activating Tekkai — the iron body technique — to brace for impact. Her axe slammed into his shoulder, and even with Tekkai, the force knocked him backward ten meters, skidding across the ground.
Boom!
Dust exploded from the impact zone. Haru emerged from it, blood dripping from his mouth but a smile etched across his face.
"That all you got?" he smirked.
Naomi's eyes widened slightly, but her lips curled upward. "You've grown cocky."
"No," he replied, raising both swords, crossing them in front of his chest. "Just confident."
They both dashed at each other again. This time, the exchange of blows was near-invisible. Metal clashed. Kicks were parried. Rankyaku blades crisscrossed the air, slicing trees, training posts, and even cracking the stone beneath them. Haru began mixing Shigan — the finger-piercing technique — into his swordplay, flicking small bursts of compressed air like bullets whenever Naomi left an opening.
But Naomi's defense was airtight. She moved like a hurricane, combining Kami-e — the paper-drawing technique — to flow around attacks, her axe sweeping with deadly grace. The sheer weight and precision of her swings made her look like a demon queen on the battlefield.
Still, Haru didn't yield.
He ducked under a sweep, rolled behind her, and delivered a Shigan to her shoulder. She winced, spun, and elbowed him in the jaw, sending him crashing into a wall. For a moment, he lay still. Naomi approached.
"You done?"
"No…" Haru coughed, pushing himself up. "Not yet."
He stood and closed his eyes.
Rokuogan — The Final Form
He took a deep breath. The entire world slowed for a moment. His heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the earth.
And then he stepped forward — fast, deliberate — fists raised.
"Rokuogan!"
He drove both fists forward, just inches from Naomi's abdomen. A burst of pressurized shockwaves exploded outward — invisible but deafening. Naomi's eyes widened, and she brought her axe up just in time to absorb the brunt of it. Even so, the concussive force launched her back, tearing her jacket and cracking the ground beneath her boots.
She crashed into a training post and coughed.
Haru stood there, panting, his arms shaking from the recoil.
"That… was Rokuogan," he said.
Naomi slowly stood up, breathing heavily. "So you really did learn it."
Haru didn't answer. His vision was fuzzy. Blood dripped from his knuckles. That move wasn't meant to be used casually.
Naomi walked toward him, dropping her axe to the ground.
"You passed," she said, her voice quieter now. "More than passed. That was the strongest I've ever seen someone use it in their first attempt."
He nodded, a small smile on his lips.
"I did it, Grandpa…" he whispered under his breath.
The Moment After the Storm
Naomi walked up and stood beside him, brushing a bit of dust from his shoulder.
"You're bleeding like hell," she said.
"You hit hard."
"You made me. You're different, Haru. You're not like the others."
He turned to look at her. She wasn't teasing him now. Her eyes were soft, thoughtful.
"I've watched you fight, train, struggle," she continued. "And somehow, despite it all, you keep growing. You're not just some pink-haired brat anymore."
"And you're not just a scary redhead with an axe," Haru grinned.
She chuckled, brushing her hair aside.
Then, after a pause, she said quietly, "You're not bad to look at either."
Haru blinked.
Naomi turned away quickly, grabbing her axe. "Don't get any weird ideas. You're still my junior."
"Sure," Haru said, smiling. "Whatever you say… sensei."