The Marine Headquarters Library remained one of Renzo's favorite "charging stations."
Especially that corner by the window, the angle of the sunlight, the soft sea breeze, and the shadow of the bookshelves together formed his idea of a perfect afternoon nap haven.
That afternoon, he once again successfully slipped in slow motion into this sacred place and eased himself into his favorite leather armchair, the one already molded perfectly to his shape.
A heavy book titled The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Oceanic Fish lay open on his lap, dry in content, but excellent in its 'hypnotic' power. His eyelids soon began their quiet duel, and his consciousness slid steadily toward a sweet dream.
Just as he was about to cross into full sleep, a faint yet distinct sound of footsteps approached.
These steps were unlike Kuzan's lazy stroll, nor the brisk, goal-driven march of an officer.
They were light, steady, rhythmic, almost as if their owner was deliberately minimizing every unnecessary sound to preserve the tranquility of the space.
Renzo's half-asleep nerves twitched.
'The footsteps… weren't annoying. In fact, they felt oddly… harmonious?'
He barely pried his eyelids open and saw a blurred silhouette.
It was a female officer, perhaps a few years older than him, dressed in a fitted Marine uniform that emphasized her athletic figure.
Her short, dark-blue hair framed a calm, refined face; her eyes were clear and focused as she tilted her head slightly, scanning the upper rows of the opposite shelf.
Her movements were delicate, her fingers gliding silently along the spines of the books. The quiet strength and restraint in her demeanor radiated through her every gesture.
Renzo's drowsy mind processed slowly, 'female… officer… unfamiliar… quiet. Most importantly, quiet.'
His already fragile sense of alertness faded, replaced by another wave of sleepiness.
As long as she wasn't here to disturb his nap, all was well.
But then, the woman seemed to have found the book she wanted.
Unfortunately, it was located on the topmost shelf, directly above Renzo's head.
She rose on tiptoe, reaching for it, but came up just short.
Glancing around, she saw no ladder nearby.
Her eyes landed briefly on the empty chair beside Renzo, clearly considering whether to move it over and stand on it.
At that very instant, Renzo's unconscious Field of Absolute Sloth rippled faintly.
"Moving the chair… too troublesome… might make noise…", such a lazy thought spread invisibly through the air.
The woman's hand froze mid-reach.
Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she suddenly felt that dragging a chair just to grab a book was, indeed, far too much effort for something so trivial.
She withdrew her hand, sighed softly, and after one last glance at the book, and at the nearly asleep Renzo, gave up and turned to leave.
Just then, Renzo, for reasons even he couldn't explain, perhaps gratitude for her "considerate" quietness, or a subconscious urge to maintain the perfect stillness of this space, murmured sleepily:
"...That book… Atlas of South Blue Flora… there's another copy… third shelf to the left… better condition… if you're too lazy to climb…"
His words were slurred, dreamlike, but uncannily precise.
The blue-haired officer froze.
She turned in surprise toward the young man slouched in the chair, who looked as though he had never spoken at all.
Following his sleepy directions, she found the exact book, a nearly new copy tucked behind a stack of geography journals.
Taking it down, she brushed off the nonexistent dust and let a flicker of surprise, and understanding, cross her eyes.
She stepped closer, nodded slightly, and said softly, "Thank you."
Renzo didn't respond. It was as if someone else had spoken in his stead. He simply shifted his head to a more comfortable angle and sank deeper into sleep.
The woman didn't leave immediately.
She sat down on the armchair across from him, opened the Atlas of South Blue Flora, and began to read quietly.
Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing them both in warm, golden light.
One slept carelessly; the other read in serene focus.
No more words were exchanged. Not even a glance.
Yet, between them, a subtle harmony blossomed, two kindred spirits silently conspiring to preserve this tranquil refuge from the noise of the world.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
When the soft chime signaling the library's closing hour sounded, the woman gently closed her book and returned it to the shelf.
She looked once more at the still-sleeping Renzo, her lips curving faintly upward, then quietly left.
When the rising chatter and bell woke Renzo, he blinked, stretched lazily, and saw that the seat across from him was empty.
Yawning, he stretched again, feeling oddly refreshed.
A peaceful air still lingered in the space around him.
"Hmm… someone was here?... Pretty quiet… not bad…" he muttered hazily.
For Renzo, "quiet" and "not troublesome" were the highest compliments he could give anyone.
He drifted out of the library, half-asleep as always, the afternoon encounter already forgotten.
A few days later, in the Headquarters cafeteria's dessert section,
Renzo was deploying his "psychic appetite", the art of willing the kitchen staff to fetch what he wanted, to acquire a mango mousse, when he noticed a familiar figure in his peripheral vision.
The same blue-haired officer, carrying a salad and a cup of tea, was scanning for a free seat.
The cafeteria was loud and crowded, making her frown slightly.
Almost instinctively or perhaps as repayment for her previous quietness, Renzo gestured lazily toward the empty seat across from him, the one that had stayed empty thanks to his Domain of Sloth.
"…No one's there…" he mumbled.
The officer looked over, recognized him, and her surprise softened into a faint smile.
"Thank you," she said softly, sitting down.
"Mm," Renzo replied vaguely, already engrossed in his mango mousse as a cook brought it over.
They ate in silence.
He enjoyed his dessert; she ate her salad with quiet grace, making no sound at all.
A gentle peace settled over the table, a bubble of stillness amid the cafeteria's chaos.
When she finished her meal, she dabbed her lips with a napkin and spoke first. "I'm Ain, one of Zephyr-sensei's students. Thank you again for your help at the library."
Renzo blinked slowly, licking cream off his lips.
"…Ain?... Zephyr?... Oh… the book thing… You're quiet… that's good…"
His praise was blunt to the point of rudeness, but Ain merely smiled. "You're… quiet too."
She used the same word, but with a different warmth behind it.
"Quiet's good… not troublesome," Renzo murmured approvingly.
"Indeed," Ain nodded gently. "The fewer troublesome things, the better."
For someone under Zephyr's strict training, she cherished rare moments of calm.
They exchanged a brief look, his gaze sleepy and unfocused, hers serene and clear, and somehow, they understood each other perfectly.
"I'll be going now. See you next time."
"Mm… see you…" Renzo echoed drowsily, watching her walk away before muttering to himself: "So her name's Ain… Zephyr's student, huh? Sounds exhausting… but she's nice."
From that day on, Renzo had half a "familiar face" at Headquarters.
Sometimes, they'd meet in the library or cafeteria, quietly sharing a corner without conversation.
He'd nap or daydream; she'd read or eat peacefully.
It was a simple arrangement Renzo found perfect, no small talk, no fuss, just mutual silence.
And for Ain, Renzo's strange aura seemed to repel noise and nuisance, creating a tranquil space wherever he was, a rare gift she came to appreciate deeply.
To others at HQ, though, the sight was almost unbelievable, Zephyr's famously disciplined and poised disciple sitting peacefully with the Marine's laziest officer, Renzo the Sloth God.
Some whispered it was a miracle, rarer even than seeing Garp do paperwork.
Only Renzo and Ain knew the truth: theirs was a quiet friendship born from the highest shared principle, "Do not disturb."