The sun had already climbed high above Cocoyasi Village, spilling molten gold across the quiet rooftops. The salty breeze from the sea mixed with the scent of oranges, drifting lazily through the air. The world felt at peace again—after years of living under the shadow of Arlong, the villagers finally breathed without fear.
For once, laughter echoed instead of screams.
Inside Bell-mère's small house, the atmosphere was warm and alive. The table was crowded—Makino, Kuina, Tina, Bell-mère, and the two little sisters, Nami and Nojiko, sat together as if they'd always been a family. Even the air seemed softer, lighter.
"Ugh… I can't believe that bear actually talks!" Nami said, puffing out her cheeks as she sat cross-legged on the chair. "And he's huge! If he sneezed, I'd probably fly into the sea!"
Tina chuckled, crossing her legs and sipping from her cup. "You'll get used to it. That big guy's name is Kuma—our gentle giant. Don't let his size fool you, he's got a heart softer than butter."
Nami's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Really? But he looked scary!"
Bell-mère sighed with mock exhaustion, rubbing her temples. "Nami, not everything big and strong is scary. Sometimes strength is what protects the ones you love."
Her words carried quiet weight. Nami looked down for a moment, as if the meaning seeped deeper than she expected. Nojiko nudged her and smiled. "Mom's right. You're just mad you couldn't climb on his back."
"I wasn't mad!" Nami pouted again, then glanced slyly at the corner of the table where a chest full of coins gleamed faintly. Her small hands fidgeted. "I was just… thinking. Being a bounty hunter doesn't sound too bad. You beat bad guys, make money, and—boom!—easy life."
Makino looked up from her plate, her expression calm but knowing. "Easy life, huh? You saw what Arlong did to this village. Power and money alone don't make life easy, Nami. They only make you forget what's important."
The girl tilted her head, unconvinced. "But… isn't freedom what's important?"
Makino's lips curved softly. "It is. But freedom means more when you've got someone to share it with."
For a moment, silence stretched between them—until Bell-mère burst out laughing, the sound rich and unrestrained. "You sure talk like a mom, Makino! You planning to start raising kids too?"
Makino smiled faintly. "Maybe I already am," she murmured, glancing toward the window that faced the hills.
Bell-mère followed her gaze. The forge stood far away at the top of the hill, where Jin had been working for days—hammering, shaping, breathing life into steel. Neither woman said it out loud, but they both knew who Makino's thoughts lingered on.
By sunset, the group climbed the mountain trail again, baskets and lanterns in hand. The orange sky glowed like fire over the horizon, and the sea below shimmered with a thousand mirrored lights. Laughter trailed behind them, carried by the wind.
At the top, the old forge stood quiet, surrounded by the low hum of cicadas. Smoke no longer rose from its chimney; instead, faint sparks drifted from the cracks in the stones, glowing and fading like fireflies.
And there, lying on the smooth boulder outside, was Jin.
He looked peaceful—too peaceful. His breathing was shallow, his expression calm, his body faintly glowing as if the dusk itself had chosen to settle upon him. A strange rhythm pulsed in the air, deep and steady, like the world itself was breathing with him.
Makino froze mid-step. "Don't move."
Kuina narrowed her eyes, instantly recognizing it—the stillness, the faint ripples of energy that surrounded him. "He's cultivating," she whispered. "His Inner Force is circulating on its own."
Bell-mère's brows furrowed. "That's… dangerous?"
Kuina shook her head slowly. "No. That's enlightenment."
The group stood in silent awe. Jin's body, bathed in the light of dusk, looked less like flesh and more like an image carved in stone—a young warrior who had given everything to his path. The glow around him throbbed faintly, the rhythm of a heart beating in harmony with nature.
Then, with a quiet exhale, his eyes opened.
Golden light flickered within them for a brief instant before fading back to their usual sharpness. Jin blinked, as if awakening from a long dream. His voice came low, rough, but calm. "You're all here."
Nami was the first to break the stillness, rushing up with a grin. "You scared us! You were glowing like a lamp post!"
Jin laughed softly, sitting up. "Guess I overdid it a little."
Makino stepped forward then, kneeling beside him. "You were in a trance, weren't you? Even your breathing stopped for a moment."
Jin nodded faintly. "Something… clicked. I felt the world breathing with me. The energy inside me—it wasn't mine anymore. It was part of everything."
Tina smirked, leaning against a tree. "You mean you finally stopped being a muscle-brained idiot and touched enlightenment?"
"Something like that," Jin said with a half-smile.
Bell-mère chuckled. "Well, Mr. Enlightened, we brought food. And don't think we'll let you off easy—it's your birthday, right?"
At that, Jin blinked. Then a genuine, unguarded smile broke across his face. "Fourteen," he said quietly. "Fourteen years old."
"Then let's celebrate," Makino said, her voice soft but bright.
They spread out blankets, opened baskets, and the hilltop came alive with warmth. Fireflies drifted lazily around them. Bell-mère poured drinks, Tina roasted meat over the fire, Kuina leaned back, sword across her knees, while Nami and Nojiko argued over who got the first slice of roasted boar. The smell of charred meat, orange peel, and sea salt filled the air.
Jin sat quietly for a moment, watching them—the laughter, the bickering, the life. In another life, he never had this. Now, he couldn't imagine losing it.
Makino noticed his silence and shifted closer. The flickering firelight played across her face, softening every line. "You're thinking too much again," she whispered.
Jin turned his head slightly. "Old habits die hard."
Her eyes met his, steady and knowing. "You've carried the weight of a world alone for too long. Tonight, you don't need to."
There was something in her tone—warm, yet trembling. When Jin didn't answer, she reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. The simple touch felt heavier than any battle. His breath caught.
The laughter of the others faded behind them, the world narrowing to two heartbeats. Her hand lingered near his jaw, and Jin—hesitating only for a second—turned his head, his lips brushing her fingertips.
Makino froze.
It was brief, almost innocent, but it carried years of unspoken feeling—gratitude, longing, and something deeper neither dared name. The warmth lingered between them before she slowly withdrew her hand, smiling faintly.
"Happy birthday, Jin."
He smiled back, quiet and sincere. "Thanks… Makino."
The sound of Tina's teasing voice cut through the air. "Oi, lovebirds! Food's getting cold!"
Makino's cheeks flushed as she stood, muttering something about helping with the plates. Jin chuckled, standing up as well. "Guess some things never change."
Later that night, when the others had returned to the village, Jin remained behind, standing atop the hill. The fire had burned low, only embers glowing in the dark. He looked down at his hands—hands that had taken life, forged weapons, and yet now held warmth instead of blood.
He clenched them softly.
This is what I'll protect, he thought. This peace… this family.
In the distance, the waves crashed softly against the shore. The moon rose high, silver and solemn. And somewhere in the night, Jin's shadow stretched long across the hill, tall and unyielding.
A warrior's vow, spoken not in words, but in silence.
Tomorrow, his journey would continue. But tonight—tonight belonged to them
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
T/N :
Support me and Access 25 chapters in Advance on my P@treon: [email protected]/GodFic