The cold moonlight cast scattered silver rays over the vast sea, shrouded in endless mist.
Amidst the swirling gray fog, the shadow of a massive ship, as large as a small mountain, loomed faintly, exuding an overwhelming sense of oppression.
"Rorschach… Big Brother, you… be gentler, it… it hurts."
The pained, delicate voice of a young girl came from the captain's cabin at the highest point of the colossal three-masted sailing ship, causing the white bear standing guard at the stern to blush, his round bear eyes darting around as his fur trembled all over.
Bepo's throat bobbed, and he suddenly shook his head violently, lifting his paws to cover his perked-up bear ears.
"Mustn't listen, mustn't listen. If I learn the boss's secret, I'll get electrocuted into a black bear."
Inside the captain's cabin…
The young girl lay sprawled on the spacious bed in loose pink pajamas, her pearly white teeth biting her lips as she suppressed the tingling tremors running through her body. Yet, she couldn't stop the occasional delicate whimpers escaping her lips, her face flushed crimson.
"Hold on, it's almost over. You did very well tonight—much better than yesterday."
A warm, gentle voice reached her ears, bringing a hint of joy to her delicate face at the praise.
Zzzzt…
Tiny silver-white sparks flickered from Rorschach's palm as he held it a few inches above Hibari's body.
The small arcs of electricity crackled and danced, seeping through her pajamas and into her skin, stimulating her muscles and blood vessels, gradually strengthening her physique.
Hibari had participated in the intense daytime physical training as well.
Though she was the only girl on the ship, her mental resilience surpassed that of most male Marines.
Perhaps because she was Akainu's daughter—or perhaps because of Rorschach—Hibari trained harder than anyone except for Law.
But a girl's physical limits were still different from a boy's.
The grueling training left Hibari utterly exhausted, and by nightfall, she couldn't sleep.
It wasn't until Rorschach noticed the dark circles under her eyes that he realized this little girl had been suffering from insomnia for days.
It pained him.
As the daughter of a Marine Admiral, Hibari didn't have to push herself so hard.
But to avoid falling too far behind Rorschach, this little girl—who usually comforted him—secretly forced herself to train twice as hard.
So, Rorschach decided to use low-intensity bioelectricity to give Hibari a thorough massage, relaxing her stiff muscles while also enhancing her physique.
However, even though this was the gentlest method Rorschach could manage, relaxing overworked muscles was akin to scraping them with a fascia knife—pain was unavoidable.
Most people couldn't endure the agony of feeling their muscles being slowly kneaded and reassembled.
Yet Hibari gritted her teeth and bore it.
Even Rorschach had to admire her tenacity.
Zzzzt…
The tiny arcs of electricity glided over Hibari's calves, lingered on the back of her thighs for a dozen seconds, then slowly crept upward.
The fluffy pink fabric of her pajamas stood on end from the static.
The loose clothing couldn't hide the soft curves of her thighs and slender waist.
Under the gentle stimulation of the electricity, the girl's body trembled uncontrollably, making the smooth lines of her figure ripple before Rorschach's eyes, drying his lips.
The hem of her top had slipped down, revealing a stretch of creamy, flawless skin.
The spacious captain's cabin was filled with a faint, sweet fragrance.
When Rorschach's gaze lingered on the exposed sliver of pale skin at Hibari's lower back for a few seconds…
The girl, her senses heightened by the electricity, seemed to notice. Her face, turned away from him, instantly burned scarlet.
Biting her pink lower lip, she buried her flushed cheeks into the bedsheet, not daring to lift her head.
With one last soft whimper, the girl's petite body, which had been trembling for so long, finally went limp, collapsing onto the soft bed as if all strength had left her, panting heavily.
On the other side, the boy was also drenched in sweat, breathing raggedly, as if equally drained.
After a while, Rorschach glanced at the drowsy girl, whose head kept nodding, and couldn't help but chuckle.
"Hibari, it's late. You're all sweaty—go take a shower and get some sleep."
"Mm… okay."
Hibari rubbed her bleary eyes, struggling to push herself up from the bed, yawning as she stretched.
Her too-short pajama top rode up again, revealing another glimpse of soft skin.
Her slender waist had not an ounce of excess fat, smooth and supple like jelly.
Watching the unsteady girl wobble toward the bathroom in the corner, Rorschach sighed and climbed off her bed, returning to his own.
His "bed" was opposite Hibari's—just a makeshift futon on the floor.
Yes.
Hibari was now sharing a room with him.
The thought made Rorschach pinch the bridge of his nose.
His head throbbed.
His chest ached, too.
A burning sensation, as if something scorching was about to pierce through him, filled him with unease.
Back in Water 7, he'd been so focused on flying the ship around that he hadn't considered whether there was proper lodging for female soldiers.
It wasn't until the ship was hundreds of miles away from Water 7 that night that he realized—the captain's cabin had only one bed!
The thoughtful Iceburg had even prepared a set of festive red bedsheets, nearly sending Rorschach into despair.
When he angrily contacted Iceburg, the man's response was pure confusion:
"What? Isn't Lieutenant Hibari your wife? I thought you two were married."
Honestly, Rorschach couldn't blame him.
Normally, Marine ships only had two types of living quarters: the captain's cabin and the crew's shared bunks.
Apart from the captain's slightly larger private room, everyone else—officers and soldiers alike—slept in communal quarters.
And when Iceburg's shipwrights had toured Rorschach's vessel, they'd learned from Bepo and the others that Hibari and Rorschach shared a room.
So, Iceburg and Franky never even considered building a separate room for the ship's only female soldier.
Space on a warship was precious, after all.
Rorschach couldn't possibly make Hibari sleep in the crew's quarters.
Thus, the little girl had to stay in the captain's cabin.
And Rorschach?
He slept on the floor, as usual, pressed against the opposite wall.
Pathetic.
He, a Marine Rear Admiral, the future "Hero of the Marines," slept on the floor every night.
Who would believe it?
As his thoughts wandered, a tiny, mosquito-like voice came from the bathroom in the corner.
"R-Rorschach… Big Brother, can you… bring me my clothes? I forgot to take them…"
Gulp.
Rorschach's throat moved, his voice hoarse.
"Y-you're wearing pajamas… You don't need to change at night, right?"
"They got soaked with sweat… I washed them," Hibari mumbled sheepishly.
"O-okay, hold on."
Steeling himself, Rorschach got up and walked to Hibari's closet.
Inside, he saw neatly folded Marine uniforms, the sky-blue princess dress she often wore, and… a few undergarments.
"Which ones do you want? I don't know what to pick…"
His eyes, as if pulled by invisible hands, drifted toward the small stack of lingerie.
"J-just grab anything…"
The girl's voice from the bathroom was shaky, clearly just as flustered.
After a pause, Rorschach picked up the blue dress, squeezed his eyes shut, and grabbed two undergarments before walking to the bathroom door.
He knocked.
The creak of the door opening made his heart leap into his throat.
A pale, delicate hand, trembling slightly, reached out from behind the door.
Rorschach hastily placed the clothes into her grasp and fled back to his futon.
Pressing a hand to his pounding chest, he felt his blood surging, an urge to punch something rising within him.
Inside the bathroom, steam swirled in the confined space.
Clutching the clothes, Hibari slid down against the wall, her legs giving out.
Her face burned as if about to bleed, her ears weak with embarrassment.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally mustered the will to move and began dressing.
Then she stared at the two pairs of panties (both tied with little bows) and the blue dress in her hands—her brain short-circuiting.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door flew open.
A petite figure shot out like a blur, crossed the room in a flash, and dove under the red bedsheets like a whirlwind.
The speed left Rorschach gaping.
(End of Chapter)
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