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The golden sun in the sky slowly drifted towards the western horizon, its descent marking the end of another grueling day of physical exertion. The fiery sunset glow burned the edge of the sky a deep, bruised crimson, casting a long, ethereal light over the architecture of Marine ford. It was the kind of spectacle that made even the most battle-hardened soldiers stop in their tracks to admire the fleeting beauty of the Grand Line.
At the abandoned dock, where the hulls of rotting warships stood like silent ghosts of past wars, the lingering glow of the setting sun stretched the shadows of Garp and Goku into incredibly long, thin silhouettes. For hours, one of these shadows had been a blur of constant motion, swaying and snapping with the rhythm of a thousand punches. The other remained perfectly still, a permanent imprint of a man whose presence alone could anchor a fleet.
Finally, the quiet shadow moved. Garp lowered his crossed arms, the leather of his gloves creaking as he looked up at the dying light. He turned his gaze toward the boy, who was still pouring every ounce of his spirit into the iron hull.
"Hey! Goku! That's enough training for today! It's time to go back and eat!" Garp's booming voice echoed across the desolate harbor, snapping the tension in the air.
Goku, who had been punching with a mechanical, unwavering focus for four straight hours, finally ceased his motion. He withdrew his fist, the knuckles humming with a dull heat, and let out a long, slow exhale that sounded like steam escaping a valve. Sweat, thick and grimy from the salt air, matted his black hair and dripped from his chin. He took a moment to wipe his face with the back of his arm, his chest still heaving from the effort.
Turning around, he waved at Garp, a bright, toothy smile breaking through the exhaustion. "I know, Grandpa Garp! I'm coming!".
As they began the trek back toward the central district of Marineford, Garp walked with a deliberate, slow pace, his eyes subtly scanning the boy's hands. He noticed that while Goku's knuckles bore light red marks, the skin was entirely unbroken—no bleeding, no bruising, and no swelling. It was a feat of natural durability that defied logic for a child. Even the most elite recruits would have left skin behind on that warship after an hour, yet Goku's body seemed to absorb the impact and grow denser from it.
"How do you feel, Goku, after punching all afternoon?" Garp asked, his voice carrying a rare note of curiosity.
Goku stopped, tilting his head to one side as he gave the question his full attention. He squeezed his fists, then opened them, testing the tension in his muscles. He thought seriously for a few seconds, looking at the sky as if the answer were written in the clouds. Finally, he clutched his stomach and looked at Garp with a completely blank, honest expression.
"Feel? Does being hungry count?".
Garp froze for a second before bursting into a belly-shaking laugh that could be heard three blocks away. "Hahahaha! It counts! Of course it counts! Being hungry is a feeling that drives a man more than anything else!". As he laughed, Garp looked at the boy and felt a surge of genuine affection. What a lovely, uncomplicated fellow, he thought. In a world filled with pirates driven by greed and Marines driven by rigid dogma, Goku's simple, honest nature was like a breath of fresh air.
Before long, the two arrived at a major fork in the road where the paved streets of the residential area began. Garp stopped and pointed down one of the narrower, more peaceful paths.
"You remember the way back to the house, right? Just follow this road straight," Garp instructed.
Goku nodded confidently. "I remember! It's near the big fountain!".
"Good. Then you go back first. I need to run an errand and buy a few things. Wait for me at home," Garp said, waving him off. But as Goku started to trot away, Garp's voice barked out one more command. "Hey, wait a minute! When you get back, go straight to the bathroom! Take a shower to wash off that sweat and change into some clean clothes!".
Goku paused, grabbed the hem of his blue gi, and pulled it up to his nose. He took one sniff and immediately recoiled, his face twisting into a bitter mask of disgust. "Ugh! It stinks! It smells like old fish and dirt!".
"I know, Grandpa Garp! I'll wash it off!" Goku shouted back over his shoulder. Then, he scurried off, his short legs moving with such speed that they blurred into a fiery wheel of motion, kicking up a trail of white smoke behind him.
Garp watched the boy's receding figure until he disappeared around a corner. The smile remained on his face as he turned toward the market district, his mind already calculating how many kilograms of meat they would need for dinner.
On the other side of Marineford, near a bustling commercial dock where supply ships were being unloaded, a white-haired female Marine was overseeing the arrival of several crates. This was Vice Admiral Tsuru, the Grand Staff Officer. She was a woman who had seen the rise and fall of countless pirate eras, and alongside Sengoku and Garp, she was considered a living legend of the Navy.
Two young soldiers carried a large, heavy wooden cabinet off a transport ship. They set it down with a heavy thud and wiped their brows. "Vice Admiral Tsuru, do you really not need us to help you carry this to your quarters?" one of them asked, looking at the frail-looking old woman.
Tsuru offered them a kind, grandmotherly smile that didn't quite hide the sharp intelligence in her eyes. "No need, boys. You have ships to unload. Although these old bones of mine have seen better days, I'm not so weak that I can't carry my own furniture".
"Yes, Vice Admiral!" the soldiers saluted and hurried back to the gangplank.
Tsuru turned her back to the cabinet, adjusted her posture, and with a grunt of exertion, hoisted the massive piece of furniture onto her back. She began to walk slowly, her footsteps measured and steady, toward the residential sector.
Meanwhile, Goku was sprinting through the streets, his mind fixated on the promise of food. However, as he rounded a bend, he suddenly screeched to a halt, his boots leaving black marks on the stone.
"Wait a minute," he muttered to himself, scratching his head. "Why did Grandpa Garp want me to go home? Aren't we going to eat at that big room with the other Marines?". He remembered the mess hall and the endless piles of rice he had consumed there. The logic of going home to shower first seemed like an unnecessary delay to a hungry boy.
He stood there for a few seconds, debating whether he should just run to the mess hall instead. But eventually, he sighed. "Who cares? Grandpa Garp usually has a reason for things. I'll just go home, wash up, and maybe the food will be waiting there".
He started moving again, his legs kicking up dust, when he spotted a white-haired old woman ahead of him. She was carrying a cabinet that looked three times her size, and she seemed to be walking with great difficulty. Goku's instincts, honed by a life of helping those in need, took over immediately.
"Grandma! Are you going home? I'll help you with that!" he shouted as he closed the distance in a flash.
Without waiting for a reply, Goku reached out and swiftly hoisted the large cabinet off the woman's back and onto his own head. He balanced it as easily as if it were a wicker basket. "Grandma, where is your house? Is it straight ahead?".
Tsuru was momentarily stunned. She looked at the small, sweat-streaked boy who was now carrying her furniture with zero effort. She didn't say much at first, merely nodding as she observed his movements. "My house is about eight hundred meters straight ahead, just past the barracks," she said softly.
Goku gave her an innocent, beaming smile. "I know! I'll see you there!".
He took off like a shot, the cabinet bobbing on his head as he disappeared into the distance, leaving behind a trail of white smoke. Tsuru watched him go, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. So this is the boy Garp has been bragging about, she thought. He isn't just a monster of strength; he has a heart that hasn't been tainted by the world yet.
Goku arrived at the designated spot, but seeing the rows of similar-looking houses, he realized he didn't know which one was hers. He set the cabinet down gently and was about to run back to find her when he saw the old woman already walking up to him.
"Sugoi! Grandma, you walk really fast!" Goku exclaimed in genuine awe.
"Don't let my age fool you, little fellow. My body is still quite nimble when it wants to be," Tsuru replied. She pointed to the house on the right. "That's my home".
Goku carried the cabinet to her doorway, gave her one last wave, and shouted, "I'm leaving now, Grandma! I have to go take a shower!". As he vanished, Tsuru chuckled to herself. "Kind-hearted and strong. Garp might have actually found something special this time".
Back at Garp's house, Goku burst through the door and went straight for the bathroom. He scrubbed himself clean, relishing the feeling of the salt and grime being washed away. He stepped out of the shower, drying himself off, and walked into the main room naked, looking for something to wear.
"Where are the clean clothes?" he wondered aloud. He went to Garp's wardrobe and pulled open the heavy doors. He searched for a long time, but all he found were massive Marine coats and trousers that were five times too large for him. He stood there in a daze, wondering if he was supposed to wrap himself in a bedsheet.
Just then, the front door pushed open and Garp walked in, carrying a small bundle of fabric. Without a word, he tossed the bundle onto Goku's face.
"Wear this for now. Tomorrow, we'll have a tailor measure you for some real clothes," Garp said, his voice sounding suspiciously strained.
Garp had realized halfway to the market that he didn't have any small clothes at home. He had stopped at a neighbor's house—a Marine officer with several children—and asked if they had any spares. Unfortunately, the only family home at the time had four daughters, and the only "spare" outfit they could find was a pink, frilly little dress.
Goku pulled the fabric off his face and looked at it. It was bright pink, adorned with small silk flowers and a lace hem. He scratched his face, looking utterly confused. "Do I have to wear this, Grandpa Garp? It's a bit... different".
Garp cleared his throat loudly, turning his head away to hide the twitching corners of his mouth. "Yes! Just make do with it for now! It's clean, and that's all that matters! You'll get your new clothes tomorrow!".
Goku, trusting Garp implicitly, put the dress on. It was a bit tight around the shoulders, and the skirt flared out around his knees. He looked down at himself, then up at Garp, who was now vibrating with suppressed laughter.
"What's wrong, Grandpa Garp? Is there something on my face?" Goku asked innocently.
Garp tried to compose his expression, but a small snicker escaped his lips. There was nothing he could do; seeing the most terrifying prodigy in the history of the Navy standing in a pink silk dress was the highlight of his decade. He had to remind himself that he hadn't intentionally sought out a dress, but the irony was simply too perfect to ignore.