The Marine Headquarters' training grounds were usually filled with sweat and shouts, but today, the atmosphere was a little different.
Zephyr had just finished another grueling session with the new batch of elite trainees. As he watched the exhausted but thrilled youths disperse, he instinctively rubbed his sore right arm.
Though age was catching up with him, he still insisted on personally demonstrating techniques, passing down the "Black Arm" fighting style and his own ironclad ideals of justice.
The heat and noise of the training had left him a bit drained. He needed some quiet to steady his breath and clear his thoughts.
He walked toward a shaded resting area by the side of the grounds, where a few benches stood against the shadow of the main building, a place that was usually peaceful.
But today, one of those benches was already occupied.
Zephyr paused.
It was a young officer in a wrinkled captain's uniform, sprawled out in an almost "melting" posture of complete relaxation.
His head rested sideways on the back of the bench, eyes closed, breathing steady, clearly deep in sleep.
Sunlight, filtered by the building's shadow, fell softly over him, outlining an oddly tranquil scene.
Around Zephyr, the noise of the training field seemed to dull, as though filtered through an invisible barrier, becoming distant and muted.
Zephyr raised an eyebrow.
He recognized that face, or rather, he'd heard the rumors.
The one Tsuru brought back, the young man so lazy it defied reason, yet possessing a bizarre ability. Renzo.
He was about to find another spot when his gaze lingered on Renzo's unguarded sleeping expression, and on the strange calm that enveloped the area around him.
Then, Zephyr changed his mind.
He deliberately softened his heavy footsteps not an easy feat for a man of his size and sat down on the bench beside him, not bothering to keep much distance.
The bench creaked slightly under his weight, but the sleeping Renzo only smacked his lips, furrowed his brow faintly as if mildly disturbed, then unconsciously turned his face to the other side and kept sleeping.
Zephyr watched this and allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smile to tug at his lips.
He leaned back and closed his eyes as well, resting quietly.
For a while, only the sound of two steady breaths remained, along with the distant hum of the training field.
A peculiar sense of harmony filled the air.
Zephyr could feel it, the atmosphere around him was imbued with something soothing, a force that gently dulled tension, even motivation.
Normally, he would've been cautious of such an energy, but right now, after a long morning of exertion, it felt… just right.
Even the dull ache of his old wounds seemed to ease, lulled by the Domain of Sloth.
He didn't know how long he sat there before Renzo stirred awake.
The young captain stretched slowly, joints cracking faintly, then blinked himself into a dazed half-awareness.
He turned his head, half expecting to see his attendant, Potts, showing up with snacks.
Instead, he found a huge, broad-shouldered man with purple hair and sunglasses sitting beside him, exuding a calm, mountain-like presence.
Renzo's mind stalled for several seconds.
'…Who?'
He looked familiar.
'…Zephyr? The Admiral?'
'Why was he here?'
A string of slow questions drifted through his mind, though none of them caused any real anxiety, mostly because the man gave off no "trouble" aura.
He hadn't woken him, hadn't scolded him, just sat there quietly, as if he too had come for some rest.
Zephyr seemed to sense Renzo's stirring and slowly opened his eyes. Turning his head, he said in a deep, even tone that carried no clear emotion:
"Awake?"
Renzo nodded sluggishly, his movements sloth-like.
"Mm… Mr. Zephyr?" he ventured uncertainly.
"Just call me Teacher Zephyr, most here do."
Zephyr's voice was calm, unpretentious. He studied Renzo for a moment.
"Seems the rumors were true. You really do know how to find a good place to rest."
Renzo blinked, trying to decide if that was praise or criticism, and eventually chose to take it literally.
"It's quiet here," he said honestly. "And the sunlight's just right."
"Indeed," Zephyr agreed. He even rolled his shoulder slightly.
"Being here makes even my old injuries too lazy to ache."
His tone held faint amusement, but Renzo took the words completely seriously.
"Pain really is troublesome," Renzo murmured earnestly, as though he'd found a kindred spirit. "If it'd just stay quiet, that'd be better."
Zephyr's eyes behind his glasses flickered slightly, he hadn't expected that kind of response.
He looked at Renzo's perfectly serious expression, this young man who spoke of pain as an inconvenience rather than suffering, and suddenly chuckled softly.
"Heh… You're right. Pain's a troublesome bastard."
His laugh was deep, carrying the warmth of someone who had weathered countless storms.
"Seems we agree on that much, kid."
Renzo glanced at him and realized the old man truly wasn't looking for trouble. Whatever faint tension he had (which wasn't much to begin with) melted away completely.
He actually found Zephyr more pleasant than most of the loud, blustering officers, at least this one didn't make noise.
"Your ability," Zephyr said suddenly, though still in that calm, measured tone, as if he were discussing the weather.
"It's unique. Not one that destroys, but one that… makes people stop."
Renzo thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Moving causes trouble. Stopping is peaceful."
"A very… distinct philosophy," Zephyr remarked. Unlike Akainu, he didn't dismiss it outright. Instead, there was genuine reflection in his voice.
"Though it's completely opposite to my own doctrine, I have to admit, sometimes it might be more effective than sheer force."
He had always taught his students to face the torrent head-on, to crush evil with strength.
Yet this young man embodied its opposite, an aura of stillness that dissolved conflict naturally.
They were opposites, but not without something to learn from each other.
Renzo didn't respond to the compliment, he simply thought that talking with this old man wasn't too troublesome after all.
Zephyr spoke slowly, calmly, never forcing the pace of the conversation.
After a while, he looked up at the sky and rose to his feet.
"Alright. I've rested enough. Time to see how those kids are doing this afternoon."
Renzo got up just as lazily, feeling unusually refreshed. The whole training ground even looked a bit more pleasant now.
As Zephyr began to leave, he paused mid-step and turned back.
"If you find other places too noisy, you can rest here," he said casually. "As long as you don't disrupt training, this old man doesn't mind."
That was practically an official declaration that this spot was now Renzo's napping sanctuary.
Renzo blinked in mild surprise, then nodded.
"…Oh… Thanks… Teacher Zephyr."
Zephyr waved a hand dismissively and walked off with calm, heavy steps.
As he went, he thought to himself: 'Laziness so deep it forms a domain of stillness… Perhaps I should mention this as a case study in the next stress management lecture. Let those overzealous idiots see there's another way to cope.'
Meanwhile, Renzo watched the old man's retreating figure and had a simpler thought:
'This guy's alright. Doesn't talk too much, doesn't meddle, and even lets me keep a good spot for naps.'
'Truly… not troublesome at all.'
He yawned and decided to head to the cafeteria, maybe they still had something good left to eat. He deserved it, after spending so much energy on that rare "social interaction."
This unexpected encounter between Renzo and Zephyr had no sparks, no clash of ideals, only a calm, mutual understanding built on "not bothering each other" and "avoiding hassle."
For Renzo, it was, without question, the best kind of relationship.