Time at Marineford flowed like sand through Renzo's fingers, slow, steady, and for the most part, silent.
Three years had passed. For the ever-turbulent seas, that span was enough to reshape history. For Renzo, however, it merely meant that his dorm mattress had developed a slightly more comfortable dent.
The cafeteria menu had cycled through a few rounds of dishes he found satisfactory, and the leather armchair in the library corner had grown smoother and shinier under his habitual use.
His daily routine had long since solidified into a perfectly optimized "lazy loop": wake up, eat, lie down somewhere, wake again, eat again, and continue lying down.
His rank had been forcibly promoted to Commodore, but he felt nothing about it, his uniform was as wrinkled as his old jacket, tossed carelessly into a corner.
Sengoku and Tsuru had tried multiple times to "motivate" him, only to fail against his unshakable fortress of laziness. They had no choice but to treat him as a delicate, "strategic deterrent weapon", one to be maintained carefully and only deployed when absolutely necessary.
His quiet, mutually-beneficial rapport with Ain had only grown stronger.
She had been promoted to rear admiral, taking on more missions, yet every time she returned to headquarters, a peaceful corner awaited her, sometimes with a cup of tea at the perfect temperature, sometimes with a dessert she had once mentioned wanting to try.
They spoke little. A glance, a subtle nod, that was enough. In this noisy fortress, they were each other's coordinates of calm.
His "Lazy Alliance" with Kuzan still functioned occasionally. They shared the best nap spots and exchanged minimalist reviews of the cafeteria's new desserts, typically summed up as "fine" or "too sweet."
As for Akainu? Oh, he still disliked Renzo, but he had learned to take a detour.
After all, no one wanted to experience the humiliation of having a full-force attack casually "deflected" by an invisible force, only to be left feeling lazy afterward.
Everything was good.
Few problems, plenty of sleep, and steady food supply.
Until that day.
A beautifully printed, formally worded invitation, delivered right to his bedside by a trembling orderly named Potts, shattered that tranquility.
"G-Great Admiral Promotion Ceremony…?"
Renzo lifted half his face from the pillow, squinting at the "source of trouble."
"Who's getting promoted? What's it got to do with me?"
Potts swallowed nervously. "I-It's Vice Admiral Sakazuki and Vice Admiral Borsalino's promotion ceremony! The Fleet Admiral ordered all commissioned officers to attend… as a show of-of-"
"As a show of trouble…" Renzo finished the sentence for him, collapsing back into the pillow and covering his head with the blanket.
"Not going… tell them I'm sick… severe cold… terminal stage…"
Potts looked ready to cry. "Vice Admiral Tsuru specifically said that if you don't attend, the 'secret menu' will be suspended for a month, and your dorm will be moved next to the street training grounds…"
The lump under the blanket went rigid.
Silence. Three long minutes of it.
Finally, a pale hand trembled out from under the covers, groping around until it found the invitation.
"...Time… and place…"
The voice was utterly lifeless.
"Tomorrow, 10 a.m., Main Headquarters Plaza!"
"…Tch."
The next day, 9:50 a.m.
At Marine Headquarters' central plaza, banners fluttered and ranks stood firm.
Tens of thousands of marines stood in formation, officers in immaculate dress uniforms, the air thick with solemn anticipation. The flags of the World Government and the Marines whipped in the wind.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Admiral Zephyr, and Vice Admiral Tsuru stood on the podium.
Garp crossed his arms beside them, unusually serious, and, for once, not snacking on crackers.
The soon-to-be admirals, Sakazuki Akainu and Borsalino Kizaru, stood front and center. Sakazuki's expression was hard and sharp as steel, his aura radiating heat and power.
Borsalino, meanwhile, looked as sleazy as ever, sunglasses on, mouth curved in a half-smile, as if attending a dull tea party.
Just before the ceremony began, two figures appeared slowly at the edge of the crowd.
One was Renzo, wearing his Commodore uniform, which looked as if it had been fished out of the trash, crooked buttons, dark circles under his eyes from being forced to wake early, and the lifeless aura of a wandering ghost.
He moved almost on instinct, eyes half-shut.
The other was Ain, in her crisp Rear Admiral uniform, short dark-blue hair perfectly in place, her calm face betraying no emotion.
She deliberately slowed her pace to match his, subtly guiding him whenever he drifted or nearly bumped into someone, like a calm navigator piloting a ship on the verge of stalling.
"You actually came," Ain murmured, barely audible.
"...Cafeteria… dorm…" Renzo mumbled, as if those two words were his entire reason for existing.
Ain's lips curved ever so slightly.
"Find a corner. It'll be over soon."
The two slipped quietly to the back row, blending into the crowd.
Renzo immediately leaned against a large pillar, half-closing his eyes and preparing to master the advanced art of "sleeping while standing."
Sengoku's deep, commanding voice boomed through the den den mushi loudspeakers, extolling justice, duty, and the accomplishments of the new admirals.
Akainu listened with grim focus; Kizaru tilted his head, watching the clouds.
Renzo's breathing grew long and even.
Ain stood beside him, posture straight, gaze fixed on the podium, as if merely holding a spot for a lazy man and ensuring he didn't collapse.
Finally, the crucial moment arrived.
"By the highest decree of the World Government, I hereby appoint Vice Admiral Sakazuki to the rank of Admiral, codename, 'Akainu'!"
"Vice Admiral Borsalino is likewise promoted to Admiral, codename, 'Kizaru'!"
Thunderous applause rolled through the plaza.
The soldiers' eyes burned with fervor, the officers' faces shone with pride.
Akainu stepped forward, receiving his insignia with a voice like molten iron: "Absolute justice tolerates no sloth!"
His aura flared, the air around him shimmering with heat.
Kizaru sauntered up next, accepting his insignia with a languid salute, drawling, "Such~ a~ terrifying~ responsibility~... I'll do my best… probably…"
And just as the atmosphere reached its grandest peak-
"Phew…"
A long, peaceful snore broke the silence.
It wasn't loud, but in the quiet pause after Akainu's speech and against Kizaru's drawling tone, it sounded crystal clear.
Every head turned toward the source.
There, under the farthest pillar, Commodore Renzo stood fast asleep, head tilted, mouth slightly open, even a faint glimmer of drool at the corner of his lips.
The snoring was unmistakably his.
Ain: "..."
Her face remained expressionless, but her posture stiffened ever so slightly.
She subtly shifted half a step to block some of the attention.
Onstage, Sengoku's face darkened instantly, veins bulging at his temple.
Garp's shoulders shook violently as he struggled not to laugh. Tsuru sighed and rubbed her temples.
Akainu's gaze, hot as magma, sliced toward the offender, and seeing that it was Renzo, he visibly restrained himself.
Fighting a sleeping man today would be beneath him… and far too much trouble.
Kizaru's sunglasses tilted slightly in Renzo's direction, his grin widening with amusement.
He even raised his newly issued appointment scroll in a mock toast toward the snoring major.
A soft snicker escaped from somewhere in the ranks, quickly followed by suppressed murmurs and stifled laughter.
Ain exhaled sharply, then pinched Renzo's arm, hard.
"...Huh?!"
Renzo jolted awake, gasping and blinking in confusion at the dozens of stares filled with shock, amusement, and disbelief.
"...It's over?" he mumbled hoarsely. "...Can I go back to sleep now?"
"...Stand straight," Ain hissed through clenched teeth. "It's not over."
Renzo blinked, finally noticing Akainu's murderous glare from the stage.
He rubbed his nose sheepishly and tried to stand upright, though the lazy aura still clung to him like a blanket.
The ceremony proceeded, the brief scandal swallowed by protocol, but "Commodore Renzo Falling Asleep at the Admiral Promotion Ceremony" spread through Marineford faster than the Fleet Admiral's speech, destined to become a favorite story for decades to come.
When the ceremony finally ended, the crowd dispersed.
Ain glanced at Renzo, who looked utterly relieved. She sighed softly. "Let's go."
"...Mhm…" he mumbled, shuffling after her at a snail's pace.
The sun shone over Marine Headquarters, a new era dawning, with two contrasting admirals taking the stage.
Renzo, however, cared about only one thing.
"...Do you think… the cafeteria added any special dishes today… for the celebration?"