Setting Out

Inside the warship's infirmary.

Sakazuki suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, his chest heaving violently as his breathing turned ragged and rapid in an instant, as though his mind were still trapped on that battlefield of thunder and magma.

The faint hum of machinery filled his ears.

The sharp yet familiar scent of disinfectant filled his nostrils.

Beneath his feet was the gentle rocking of the warship on the waves.

Outside the window, the waves slapped against the hull again and again, gradually pulling him back to reality.

Before his thoughts had fully settled—

A familiar voice, irritating enough to make his teeth itch, drawled from beside him.

"You're awake~"

Sakazuki paused slightly and turned his head.

On the neighboring bed, Borsalino was likewise wrapped in bandages like a mummy. Yet he was half-reclined, lazily waving one hand at Sakazuki, that punchable grin still hanging on his face.

"Yo~"

Sakazuki fell silent for a moment and did not respond.

His gaze slowly fell back to his own hands. A phantom sensation of heat and numbness still lingered in his palms—

He recalled the instant lightning had torn through his vision.

And those eyes, calm to the point of cruelty, yet seeming capable of seeing through everything.

He slowly exhaled, as if trying to release everything that had built up in his chest. An involuntary bitter smile tugged at his lips.

"...Looks like it."

"I still have a long way to go."

Borsalino tilted his head to look at him. For once, there was no teasing in his eyes, and his tone was less careless than usual.

"Don't be so quick to draw conclusions, brother~"

The next second, he returned to his usual frivolous self. His lips curled up, and his voice became light again.

"But seriously—"

"You could tell Vice