The morning sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Haru and Naomi stumbled onto the training grounds, their limbs still aching from the previous day's brutal regimen. Vice Admiral Garp was already there, standing atop a massive boulder like a battle-hardened statue, arms crossed, a grin plastered across his scarred face.
"'Bout time, lovebirds!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the grounds. "I hope you enjoyed your sleep, 'cause you won't get much more of it!"
Naomi sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know how Koby and Helmeppo survived this…"
Haru straightened beside her, suppressing a yawn. "He's more terrifying than Akainu in a bad mood."
"Don't you dare compare me to that lava-headed brute!" Garp barked, leaping down from the boulder with the grace of a man half his age. He landed with a thunderous crash that shook the earth beneath them. "Now—today, we're going to build that pretty strength of yours into something worthy of legends!"
Morning: "The Gauntlet of Hell"
The first phase of training was Garp's favorite: boulder throws.
"Pick up those boulders," Garp ordered, pointing to a row of rocks the size of small houses. "Toss 'em across the field. And no, I don't mean roll. I mean throw. Like you're launching cannonballs."
Haru's jaw tightened. Even with his strength and Haki, that seemed nearly impossible. Naomi looked at him with a side glance and muttered, "I think he's trying to kill us."
The two got to work. Haru activated his Armament Haki, coating his arms and shoulders in glossy black as he wrapped his grip around the first boulder. He gritted his teeth and launched it forward with a roar. It rolled—barely five feet.
Garp whistled sarcastically. "My grandmother could throw better than that!"
Naomi snarled, pulling her gloves tight and calling on her own Armament Haki. She swung her axe at the side of her boulder, slicing it into more manageable chunks, and then began throwing them like they were training dummies.
"That's cheating!" Haru barked.
"That's innovation," Naomi shot back with a smirk.
Garp burst out laughing. "Now we're getting somewhere!"
By noon, their muscles burned, arms trembled, and hands blistered. Sweat drenched their bodies, clinging to their uniforms as they collapsed beside each other for their only break of the day.
Haru looked over at Naomi, breath ragged. "Remind me why we agreed to this?"
She leaned back against the dirt, eyes closed. "Because we're idiots… idiots who want to protect the world."
He smiled faintly. "Good reason."
Afternoon: "Iron Fists and Iron Wills"
Garp returned with two massive iron weights, each easily a ton in mass. "Put these on your backs," he commanded, tossing one toward Haru like it was a feather.
Haru caught it with a grunt. His knees buckled for a moment before he steadied himself. Naomi slipped hers over her shoulders without a word.
"Now, fifty laps around the training field. And don't even think about walking."
Naomi shot him a deadpan glare. "Fifty laps? That's two kilometers per lap!"
Garp shrugged. "Then you better run fast!"
What followed was nothing short of torture. With each step, their backs screamed. Naomi's breath came in sharp gasps, her powerful legs trudging forward as Haru pushed himself to keep up. He could feel his bones rattling, his muscles fraying—but he never stopped.
Because Naomi didn't stop.
They ran, side by side, sometimes supporting each other when one stumbled, sweat streaming from their bodies in rivers. Birds flew overhead. Marines watched from the sidelines, whispering about how even seasoned captains wouldn't survive this. But Haru and Naomi pushed through, their will stronger than ever.
By the time they collapsed at the finish line, the sun was beginning to dip. Garp walked over, clapping once. "Still alive? Good. Because we're just getting to the fun part."
Evening: "Fist to Fist"
"Time for sparring," Garp grinned, cracking his knuckles. "With me."
Haru and Naomi stared at him like he'd gone insane.
"Wait—you mean together, against you?" Naomi asked incredulously.
"Yup!" Garp grinned even wider. "Don't hold back!"
Haru exchanged a nervous glance with Naomi, then activated his Haki again. Naomi's axe gleamed with obsidian-black steel.
They attacked in tandem. Haru's swords moved with deadly grace, a fusion of odachi and katana swirling with power, while Naomi's axe swung in bone-shattering arcs. Garp parried with nothing but his fists.
Each blow they landed was met with a harder punch. Haru's sword strikes were knocked back with thunderous fists that shattered the earth. Naomi's axe clanged against his forearms, the sheer force sending shockwaves through the air. Garp was relentless—smiling the entire time.
"You're relying too much on your Haki, boy!" Garp shouted, ducking Haru's slash and slamming a palm into his gut, sending him flying backward.
He turned to Naomi. "And you—watch your stance!"
Naomi barely had time to readjust before Garp's punch sent her axe flying from her hands. She rolled back, skidding to a stop beside Haru.
Both panting, battered, bruised—yet grinning.
"Again?" Haru asked, holding out a hand.
Naomi grabbed it, standing up. "Again."
They charged.
The second round was more fluid, more coordinated. Haru covered Naomi's blind spots, while Naomi's explosive swings opened up gaps for Haru to strike. They began to think, adapt, predict. Even Garp, for a split second, looked impressed.
The sparring went on for an hour until both lay on the ground, completely drained.
Garp stood over them, hands on hips. "Not bad. You'll both make fine warriors… if you survive."
Later that Night
Haru sat on the roof of the Marine barracks, looking out over the moonlit sea. His body hurt in places he didn't even know he had. But it was a good kind of pain. The kind that reminded him he was alive.
Naomi joined him, two bottles of water in hand. She handed him one and sat beside him in silence.
"I didn't think we'd make it today," she murmured.
"We're not done yet," Haru replied. "But… I'm glad I'm going through it with you."
She nudged him with her shoulder. "Don't get soft on me, Captain."
He chuckled, eyes meeting hers. "Wouldn't dream of it… Commodore."
They sat there, shoulder to shoulder, under the stars—two warriors forged in fire, shaped by fists, and bound by a bond stronger than steel.