The next morning, sunlight spilled through the window, cutting across the room in golden lines.
Kuzan woke up, eyes half-open, watching specks of dust drift lazily in the light. After a long stretch, he washed up, straightened his uniform, and stepped out toward the mess hall.
The smell of freshly cooked rice and grilled fish filled the air. As fate would have it, the first person he spotted was the woman who had stormed off yesterday—Tsubaki.
Without hesitation, he slid into the seat beside her.
"Feeling better today?" he asked casually, his tone light but his face full of mock concern.
Tsubaki froze mid-bite. Great. Of all the people to run into first thing in the morning…
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you for your concern, Petty Officer Kuzan," she replied, her voice overly polite and distant.
"Oh, that's good!" Kuzan said cheerfully, leaning forward. "For a second, I thought you were unwell. You should probably avoid spicy food—here, let me take that off your hands."
Before she could react, he swiped the spicy beef from her plate and dropped it into his own bowl.
Tsubaki's jaw clenched. Her face turned red—half from anger, half from disbelief.
"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Kuzan. Please, eat to your heart's content. I've suddenly lost my appetite," she said through gritted teeth, pushing her tray away.
As she stood up and walked off, Kuzan called after her, still chewing happily, "Skipping meals already? Trying to stay in shape, huh? Admirable dedication!"
Tsubaki didn't turn around—but her knuckles went white. Her friend, passing by the hall, found her outside moments later, fuming and venting about "that arrogant idiot from yesterday."
Back in the cafeteria, Kuzan finished his food peacefully, humming to himself as if nothing had happened.
After breakfast, he made his way to Fleet Admiral Kong's office once again.
Kong had been expecting him. "You'll be joining Instructor Zephyr's elite training class," he said directly. "Vice Admiral Tsuru will introduce you to him. Work hard. Zephyr doesn't tolerate slackers."
Under Tsuru's calm guidance, Kuzan followed her through the halls until they reached the massive training compound of the Marine Headquarters.
Inside, Zephyr was waiting—arms crossed, his tall figure casting a commanding shadow.
"So this is the recruit?" Zephyr said, his deep voice echoing across the room.
Tsuru nodded. "Fleet Admiral's recommendation."
Zephyr gave Kuzan a sharp once-over. "Fine. Take a seat inside. Let's see what you've got."
Kuzan stepped into the classroom. The chatter died down instantly. Rows of young Marines—some already officers—turned to stare. And in the third row, looking like she'd just swallowed a lemon, sat Tsubaki.
He grinned and strolled over. "This seat taken?"
Before the Marine sitting behind her could reply, Kuzan patted his shoulder. "Hey, buddy. Mind sitting in the back? I'll take this one."
The entire room froze. The man—a Lieutenant Commander from the G–3 Branch—blinked, trying to process the absurdity of being bossed around by a newly enlisted Petty Officer. But the Fleet Admiral's personal escort didn't seem like someone to mess with. With an awkward nod, he got up and moved.
Tsubaki looked like she might burst into flames.
"You're still not feeling well?" Kuzan asked, feigning concern. "Your face is red again. Maybe you've got a fever?"
Tsubaki clenched her fists and turned away silently, doing her best to ignore him.
Just then, Zephyr entered the room. His presence silenced everyone instantly.
"Alright, recruits," he barked. "Today, we have a new addition to the Elite Class—Petty Officer Kuzan."
Applause followed, though most clapped cautiously, still unsure what to make of the newcomer.
Zephyr's expression hardened. "No one joins this class through favoritism. Every student here has earned their place through skill. If any of you doubt that—" he looked straight at Kuzan "—then we'll let his strength do the talking."
Murmurs rippled through the room. Zephyr gestured toward the training grounds.
"Outside. Now."
Moments later, the entire class gathered around the sparring arena.
"Vice Captain Drake," Zephyr called out to a broad-shouldered officer, a Captain-rank combat instructor, "test his ability."
"Yes, sir." Drake saluted, stepping forward with a confident grin. "Don't take it personally, kid."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Kuzan replied lazily, hands in pockets.
As soon as Zephyr gave the signal, Drake vanished in a blur, appearing right in front of Kuzan with a haki-coated fist aimed at his chest. The impact echoed like thunder—
—but the punch passed straight through him.
Water splashed where Kuzan's body should've been.
The watching Marines gasped.
Drake stumbled back, drenched and stunned. "What the hell—?"
Kuzan's form re-solidified, calm and unbothered. "You hit me, right? Felt like you missed."
Whispers spread among the recruits. A Logia…?
Zephyr's brows furrowed. He had expected ice—not this. Has the fruit already reached that level of control…?
"Enough," Zephyr commanded. "You've proven your point."
Drake stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow. The difference in power was clear. Even armed with Haki, his blows hadn't landed properly.
Every recruit in the elite class was staring now—some in awe, some in disbelief.
Tsubaki's eyes were wide. For the first time since meeting him, she had nothing to say.
Kuzan turned his head slightly, the faintest of smiles curling his lips.
"Guess I pass?"