"Hahahahaha!!"
Inside Rock Bar, the whole place erupted with laughter, all because a red-haired teenager sitting at the counter had asked for a glass of fruit juice.
The bartender, who had been polishing a glass, paused mid-motion. He looked up and studied the red-haired boy seated before him, Yoriichi Tsugikuni. After a brief glance, he smiled and nodded warmly.
"Please wait just a mont, sir," the bartender said kindly. "We don't normally serve fruit juice here, but I'll find a way to get you sothing you'll enjoy."
He turned to the rest of the group. "And for the others? We've got whiskey, beer, red wine, plenty to choose from. What'll it be?"
The bar's patrons laughed their fill but quickly lost interest in the Navy n.
Yoriichi, however, wasn't fazed in the slightest. He smiled at the bartender's reply, gently set his sword down beside his foot, rested one hand on the counter, the other under his chin, and said with an admiring chuckle:
"You're a good man, boss. A place that goes out of its way for custors, even without what they asked for, no wonder you're doing so well."
The bartender was in his early forties, with that familiar "diterranean" pattern of balding. He had a round figure and radiated the fatigue of middle age. Greasy as he looked, there was still a faint scent of cologne about him, he was oddly refined for such a weary man.
Yes, a greasy, but sohow elegant, middle-aged man.
"You flatter , sir," the bartender said modestly, nodding. "But when you open a place like this, you've got to take care of your custors."
He then turned to the others seated beside Yoriichi.
Captain Bogard flicked the brim of his hat with one finger, sharp little eyes sizing up the bartender. With a grin, he said, "Jerez."(Spanish for sherry.)
The other marines chid in imdiately:
"Sa here!"
"I'll take the sa, boss!"
A little surprised, the bartender looked down the line of Navy n, then turned to the rack behind him. He pulled out a bottle of red, checked the label briefly, and set it in front of Bogard with glasses for the group.
"Would you like to tweak the flavor a bit?" he asked cheerfully.
Bogard shook his head. Pouring himself half a glass, he passed the bottle down the line and said with a grin:
"No need. A classy drink like this? Best enjoyed pure."
Then he glanced at Yoriichi, a nostalgic smile on his lips.
"Yoriichi, Zephyr-sensei loves this stuff too."
Yoriichi glanced at the bottle resting before Bogard and shook his head softly.
"I rarely saw Zephyr-sensei drink. These days, he's more of a tea man."
Bogard blinked, then chuckled to himself.
"Really? Switched to tea, huh? Guess I'll have to bring him so quality leaves next ti."
While the two chatted, the bartender quietly stepped away to make a phone call. When he returned, he resud wiping down glasses, silently listening in without interrupting.
Yoriichi and his companions seed to be there just to unwind, drinks and light chatter, nothing more.
Before long, the bar's side door creaked open, and a boy around ten years old ca dashing in. The white-haired child carried a small basket holding two bottles, one pale yellow, one orange filled with fresh juice.
He ran over to the bar and called out cheerfully:
"Uncle Wenfu, I brought the juice!"
He placed the basket on the bar, grinning as he held out his hand.
"Uncle, that's 300 Berries, a fair price!"
Wenfu turned, spotted the white-haired boy, and gave him a gentle pat on the head. He pulled out so bills from under the counter and handed them over, adding a reminder:
"Smoker, hold on to that money, alright? Don't go losing it."
After paying the boy, Wenfu placed the two bottles of juice before Yoriichi and said with a smile:
"Here you go, Navy lad give it a try."
"These co straight from little Smoker's orchard. Apple and citrus. They won't disappoint."
Just as he was about to leave, Smoker caught wind of the exchange and turned, eting Yoriichi's gaze at that very mont.
Smoker.
Even after all these years, Yoriichi hadn't completely forgotten that na. Though the mory was faint, the mont he saw the white-haired boy's face, it began to clear as if brushed by sunlight through morning mist.
Their eyes t. Yoriichi smiled gently. Then, as naturally as breathing, he accepted a glass of orange juice from the bartender and took a sip. Smiling again, he turned to Smoker and praised:
"This orange juice is excellent."
Young Smoker puffed up with pride.
"Of course it is! Our apples and oranges are the best around!" he boasted.
After his proud declaration, Smoker glanced at Yoriichi and the others, Bogard among them and asked curiously:
"Are you guys... Navy?"
Yoriichi gave a quiet nod. That was all Smoker needed—his eyes lit up. He stepped forward eagerly, chest swelling with conviction, and declared:
"I want to be in the Navy too!"
"Can I join the Navy?"
At just ten years old, Smoker was still scrawny, barely taller than the counter, perhaps 140 centiters at best. Standing before Yoriichi, it was hard to believe they were only a few years apart.
Bogard turned with a smile.
"Of course you can!"
"I can feel the justice burning in your heart! You're destined to be a hero of justice."
"Once you grow up, you can join the Navy."
"But not just yet," he added with a chuckle.
Bogard had the warm, practiced smile of a veteran—well-versed in charming children who idolized the Navy. His words were smooth. Too smooth. Yoriichi gave a tiny shiver.
This guy... he's laying it on thick.
Unexpectedly, Smoker bought it hook, line, and sinker. His chest swelled with excitent as he nodded vigorously, then turned and cheerfully trotted toward the door.
Just as he reached the entrance, the saloon doors burst open. A young man in a black suit strode in, pushing them aside.
Smoker, lost in his excitent, didn't notice and walked straight into him, slamming headfirst into the man's stomach.
Thud!
To Smoker, it felt like hitting a wall. He fell to the floor, clutching his head.
"Oww, that really hurt..."
When he looked up, the young man was already pulling off his sunglasses, glaring down with undisguised contempt.
"Where'd this brat co from?"
"Getting in my way, seriously?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the man lashed out with a vicious kick, aid straight at Smoker's side. The force of it sliced the air with a sharp whoosh.
Smoker barely had ti to process what was happening before the foot filled his vision. Just as the blow was about to land, a large figure suddenly appeared, scooping him into a protective embrace.
A heartbeat later...
WHAM!
The suited man's kick slamd full-force into the newcor's rotund body, sending both him and Smoker crashing into the wall with a deafening impact.
Behind the bar, the bartender Wenfu who had just been polishing glasses monts ago, was nowhere to be seen.
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