Time flew by, and the Marine flag fluttered in the cold wind over Marineford.
It had been nearly one year and three months since Seraphilia arrived at Headquarters.
Under Teacher Tsuru's systematic instruction and Garp's 'beating,' her growth rate astonished many onlookers.
The day the promotion order was issued, the sunshine was excellent.
The insignia on her shoulder epaulets jumped directly from private first class to Major.
Such a leapfrog promotion was uncommon at Headquarters, but considering her dual status as 'Teacher Tsuru's disciple' and 'Garp's endorsement,' coupled with her outstanding performance in several tactical drills and small-scale combat missions involving Tsuru, dissenting voices were suppressed to a minimum.
Her salary increased significantly as well.
Seraphilia looked at the newly added figures in her account; her ice-blue eyes held little joy, only a calm calculation.
More money meant better supplies, more books, and... more solid security for the person far away in the West Blue.
Following the promotion order came an approved ten-day leave.
For the low-ranking soldiers who worked year-round without rest, this was a rare luxury; for Tsuru's direct subordinate, this leave was also a symbol of trust and status.
However, when Tsuru handed the leave documents to Seraphilia in the office, she uncharacteristically hesitated to take them immediately.
Instead, she slightly lowered her head, her voice clear but carrying a barely perceptible plea: "Teacher Tsuru, this subordinate... wishes to apply to postpone the leave until February."
Tsuru lifted her eyes from the documents; the gaze beneath her silver hair was calm yet profound: "Reason?"
She knew this disciple was by no means someone who craved comfort or was lazy; postponing the leave must have an important reason.
Seraphilia raised her head, her ice-blue eyes looking directly at Tsuru, showing no sign of evasion, only an almost candid seriousness: "In February, there is a birthday for a friend who is... very important to this subordinate.
I wish to use the leave to celebrate her birthday."
She did not say 'his' or 'her,' but the cherished tone in her voice was unmistakable.
Tsuru looked at her quietly.
After more than a year of constant companionship, she had long discerned the extremely deep and heavy concern buried in Seraphilia's heart.
That concern was one of the core driving forces behind her desperate training and pursuit of knowledge, and also the source of the melancholy and tenderness in her eyes that did not match her age.
Tsuru never pried into her subordinates' private affairs, as long as it did not violate principles or mission objectives.
She saw Seraphilia's character, willpower, and value to the Marines.
"A very important friend?" Tsuru repeated, her tone betraying no ripple.
"Yes. Very important," Seraphilia replied without hesitation, her fingers unconsciously touching the inner pocket of her uniform—where she kept the wooden Robin and the small notebook recording the little skylark's directional sense close to her body.
"I request Teacher Tsuru's approval."
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