Two months later, G-10, Navy Hospital.
The cold smell of disinfectant hung in the air.
Kuzan's eyelashes fluttered a few times, and he slowly opened his eyes.
The instant consciousness returned, fierce phantom pain and a hollow sensation surged from the left side of his body.
He instinctively tried to roll over and sit up, but abruptly stopped.
He lowered his head and looked at where his left leg should have been.
There was nothing there.
His expression immediately darkened, clouded by an unshakable gloom.
Those eyes, usually tinged with laziness and confusion, held nothing now but a deathly chill and... understanding.
There were no cries, no furious roars.
Only silence, as the moisture in the air rapidly condensed and took shape.
Moments later, a left leg made of solid ice appeared where his missing leg had been, supporting him as he rose somewhat stiffly from the hospital bed.
Aokiji pushed open the ward door and strolled out.
The light in the corridor was a little harsh.
But he stopped the moment he stepped through the doorway.
A figure sat quietly on a bench in the corridor.
It was Gern.
He still wore his signature black shirt, without his Justice Coat. He simply sat there quietly, watching Aokiji emerge from the ward, watching the cold radiating from his ice leg.
Their eyes met, and an unspoken weight filled the air.
In the end, Aokiji spoke first, his voice a little hoarse, though his tone was almost joking.
"Ara la la, looks like... I lost."
Dragging his ice-forged leg, Aokiji strolled toward Gern.
Gern dispensed with pleasantries and tossed him a bottle of liquor.
"Tch." Aokiji caught it cleanly. Looking at the bottle in his hand, he gave a bitter, faintly self-mocking smile.
"Giving alcohol to a patient who just woke