c19 – Garp Has Everything
On the night Madara left, a massive explosion rocked Vice Admiral Garp's office.
No one knew exactly what had happened.
The official report from Marineford claimed a pirate, disguised as a marine, had infiltrated the base and attempted to assassinate Vice Admiral Garp.
Ultimately, Garp defeated the assailant single-handedly, though he sustained minor injuries and was sent to the headquarters' infirmary for treatment.
The marines throughout Marineford could only sigh at the ferocity of pirates in the Great Age of Sail daring enough to even target the "Hero of the Marines."
Of course, the truth was different.
After Madara's failed attempt to "dispose" of certain troublesome elements, rumors spread among those who knew him: that the cold and stoic Madara Uchiha had developed a strange tendency... to smile.
Although embarrassed, many encouraged each other to provoke more smiles out of Madara, believing it to be a rare sight worth witnessing.
The night Garp was discharged, the pirates "attacked" again, supposedly targeting Garp for the second time.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, who had only recently assumed office after Kong's promotion, was enraged.
He immediately ordered the leader of the Navy Strategic Cooperation Department known as Konoha's Hokage, Uchiha Madara to thoroughly investigate the incidents, ensuring that Vice Admiral Garp's reputation remained unblemished.
It's said that Garp protested fiercely, arguing it was a waste of naval resources, but Sengoku refused to budge.
Over the next few days, attacks against Garp seemed to occur almost daily.
Every time, Uchiha Madara appeared beside Garp at critical moments, and together they repelled the intruders with overwhelming force Madara's fighting style as brutal and elegant as when he faced the Five Kage in the Fourth Ninja War.
Even Madara's only disciple in this world, Gion Lieutenant General Tsuru's younger sister was dragged into the chaos.
Several times, she was found in Garp's office, fighting bravely to protect both Garp and his... valuable private stock of senbei and donuts.
Unfortunately, Gion's strength, despite her swordsmanship being polished under Madara's strict training, could not entirely compensate for her youth and inexperience.
During one skirmish, the pirates managed to plunder a significant cache of Garp's hidden senbei and sweets stash an incident Garp mourned more deeply than his own injuries.
....
Of course, the real circumstances were only known to a handful of Navy upper echelon.
Meanwhile, Madara's fearsome combat skills earned him even deeper respect among the marines.
Forget politics for many, the fact that Uchiha Madara could spar with Vice Admiral Garp and win some exchanges was proof enough of his monstrous power.
Among those impressed was Garp's son, Monkey D. Dragon.
As someone who had suffered from Garp's harsh "education" methods fist-based parenting included Dragon developed an immediate reverence for Madara.
After witnessing Madara's overwhelming strength, Dragon became his most enthusiastic follower, visiting Madara's house every three days, persistently begging to become his disciple.
In his desperation to impress Madara, Dragon even formed a secret alliance with Gion dubbed the "Great Dutiful Fire Will Alliance."
Their goal: help each other survive Madara's brutal "training" methods.
One evening, as Madara was preparing one of his infamous experimental dishes a meal dark enough to rival Satan's menu a spiky-haired youth, wearing a white cloak of justice, burst into the kitchen without knocking.
He laughed heartily, slapping the doorframe.
"Hahahahahaha! Yo, Master! Did you beat my old man again today?!"
For the first time, Uchiha Madara regretted ever sparring with Garp.
What was supposed to be a minor venting of frustration had snowballed into him being saddled with this persistent brat.
Madara's head throbbed painfully.
Garp that damned old gorilla had somehow produced an even more annoying offspring.
"My only disciple is that little girl upstairs," Madara said coldly, wiping his hands clean.
"If you pester me again, I'll kill you and dump you outside."
Dragon opened his mouth to argue, but just then, a loud clatter echoed from upstairs.
A moment later, Gion came running down the stairs, wearing cartoonish dinosaur pajamas.
She brightened instantly at the sight of Dragon.
"Yaaay! Junior Brother Dragon! You brought snacks for Senior Sister, right?!"
Without missing a beat, Dragon ruffled Gion's hair, smiling slyly, and slipped a large sack of treats into her hands.
He coughed lightly.once.
That was their secret code: whenever Dragon delivered snacks and coughed, Gion was supposed to praise him in front of Madara.
In return, Dragon had to supply Gion with at least three days' worth of snacks necessary to survive Madara's disastrous meals.
Gion stuffed a handful of potato chips into her mouth, cheeks puffed like a hamster, and mumbled through the crumbs:
"Master, my junior brother is sooo sweet... maybe you should really accept him!"
Madara glanced at her sideways.
The little devil was mouthing off, but her hands were clutching the snack bag protectively, shielding it like a treasure chest.
Seeing Madara's unimpressed face, Gion's ears drooped a little.
Sure, Madara's cooking had improved slightly compared to the purple, bubbling disasters of a few weeks ago, but still no sane person would eat it willingly.
"I'll think about it... if you actually finish your dinner," Madara said coldly.
The moment the words left his mouth, Gion crammed the rest of the potato chips into her mouth in one frantic gulp, wiped her hands on her pajama sleeves, and shoved the empty bag back into Dragon's arms.
"Major General Dragon, I think it's best if we maintain our distance," she declared solemnly.
Dragon gave a helpless wry smile.
Gion, meanwhile, was internally panicking how could just a few casual praises backfire so badly?
Uchiha Madara had been insisting lately that his culinary skills had "no problems anymore," and kept tempting Gion with increasingly suspicious meals, claiming improvements.
Every time, though, the dishes were suspiciously purple, sometimes steaming with bubbles, and Madara himself never dared to taste them.
Everyone knew by now: Madara's cooking was only used for one purpose sneaking onto Garp's dinner tray.
Madara walked up to Dragon and extended his hand, silently signaling him to hand over the snack bag.
Dragon's eyes lit up immediately, mistakenly thinking Madara was about to accept him as a disciple.
Excited, he eagerly placed the bag into Madara's palm with both hands.
However, Madara, without sparing Dragon a second glance, shoved the snacks into Gion's arms.
Then, grabbing Dragon by the collar like he was hauling a sack of rice, Madara unceremoniously tossed him out the door.
It was obvious Gion still had no intention of eating Madara's cooking, which made Madara's mood visibly sour.
Sitting on the ground outside, Dragon blinked for a moment, slow to react.
"Master, that's not fair!" he finally protested. "You took my snacks and kicked me out! Even if you wanted me to eat your no, forget it! I'll come back tomorrow, come back tomorrow!"
Halfway through his grumbling, Dragon caught a dangerous glint in Madara's eyes—the same chilling light he had seen back when Madara battered Garp and immediately swallowed the rest of his words.
He jumped up, patted the dust off his clothes, and briskly turned away without another complaint.
Madara watched him leave, slightly disappointed that Dragon didn't foolishly push his luck further.
But he said nothing.
Turning back inside, Madara soon returned to what truly occupied his mind: his quest for perfecting "edible" cooking.
Wearing a dark apron (formerly white, now stained with cooking disasters), Madara muttered to himself while eyeing a battered fish on the counter.
"Hmph... Would pouring chocolate sauce over fried saba fish enhance the flavor...?"
As he contemplated this abomination, Gion wandered into the kitchen, swinging her arms lazily.
"Master, I'm starting school tomorrow! Have you seen my schoolbag?"
Madara paused mid-thought.
Schoolbag?
Was that really necessary for attending classes?
He tilted his head slightly, confusion evident even on his proud, stoic face, then calmly shook his head—he had no idea.
Gion stared at him, a large question mark practically hovering over her head.
"You don't know if I still have a schoolbag?!" she cried. "How am I supposed to go to school without one?!"
Madara frowned and returned her look with an equal measure of confusion.
The two stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
Finally, Madara broke the deadlock and asked, his tone dead serious:
"Tell me... does Garp have one?"
Gion was taken aback by the strange logic, but after a moment's thought, she nodded slowly and somewhat reluctantly.
"Probably... maybe, he does?"
Madara immediately came to a conclusion.
"Then I'll go and prepare it for you. It'll be at Garp's house. Wait here."
Speaking with the certainty of someone plotting a military campaign, Uchiha Madara tied his stained apron tighter around his waist and stormed out the door.
Gion, watching the absurd scene, could only sigh heavily.
"╮(╯▽╰)╭Ah~, the relationship between Master and Vice Admiral Garp is really something else... I just hope he can 'retrieve' a decent bag."
....
At the same time, Dragon was trudging home absent-mindedly, dragging his feet across the pavement.
His third failed apprenticeship attempt weighed heavily on him, gnawing at his usual self-confidence.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't immediately sense the presence behind him.
Only when a shiver ran up his spine did he instinctively draw his sword, whirling around.
Under the dim glow of Marineford's streetlamps, Uchiha Madara emerged from the shadows, wearing an apron smeared in suspicious, blood-like stains.
"Master...?" Dragon croaked, throat dry.
As Madara approached without saying a word, the air around him seemed to grow heavier, more oppressive.
Dragon's hands tightened around his sword hilt, but his palms were slick with cold sweat.
It wasn't that Dragon lacked courage—he had been trained by the Marines and was already a prodigy.
But after witnessing firsthand how Madara casually flattened Garp—the man known for matching Gol D. Roger himself—Dragon knew that resistance would be utterly futile.
Seeing Dragon frozen in fear, trembling yet standing his ground, Madara's expression barely changed, but internally he was pleased.
This was the correct reaction when facing him.
'Hmph, at least this brat reacts like a normal human being,' Madara thought.
Sometimes he seriously doubted whether the devilish Gion even had basic survival instincts.
Madara finally opened his mouth, voice low and commanding.
"Do me a favor."
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