After the welcoming ceremony ended.
The thunderous cheers from the harbor still echoed over Marineford like crashing waves as Rock followed Sengoku to the Fleet Admiral's office.
"Click."
The door shut.
The boiling clamor outside was instantly cut off by the heavy wooden door.
Yet inside the office, the atmosphere did not completely relax just because the ceremony was over.
Sengoku sat behind his desk again, stacks of intelligence reports piled across its surface.
Garp lounged carelessly on the sofa.
Tsuru sat nearby, a neatly organized stack of intelligence files at hand.
Zephyr stood by the window with his arms crossed, his broad figure blocking half the sunlight.
Rock stood in the middle of the office, his gaze slowly sweeping over them.
There was much more white at Sengoku's temples.
Garp still looked as carefree as ever, but the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had clearly deepened.
Zephyr was quieter than Rock remembered, while Tsuru remained composed, though time had left its marks between her brows as well.
At that moment, Rock suddenly felt a subtle sense of dislocation.
To him, those ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.
But for these old friends before him, they had been ten real years that had slipped away.
Countless meetings.
Countless battles.
Countless lists of the dead.
Ten years built from countless shifts in the tides of the sea.
As Rock watched them, he could not help scratching his head.
"Well..."
He chuckled softly.
"You really did live through ten whole years."
He pointed at himself, his tone carrying a touch of helplessness.
"For me, it was just a blink, so now I..."
He spread his hands.
"Feel pretty awkward about it~"
"What the hell are you feeling awkward for?!"
The moment he finished speaking, Garp suddenly