No matter how oblivious Solomon could be, even he understood that this was absolutely not the time for petty excuses.
"Huff... huff... you bastard... Solomon..."
The only stain left on the honor Garp had won through blood and sweat had followed him all his life, tormenting him without end. And the old friend and comrade who had caused that blemish on his proud name—Solomon—had cruelly never once come to see him after that day.
Back at God Valley, Garp had thought he could let Solomon's unmanly behavior slide with one good flick to the forehead.
But even after decades, that forgiveness had never come.
At first, he thought that coward had simply needed time to work up the courage, so he waited patiently and gave him space.
But one year, two years, three years, ten years, twenty years, twenty-five years...
Even as more time passed, as Garp's black hair turned white, as his once-solid muscles thinned, as fine wrinkles formed on his brow, Solomon remained impossible to meet, as if he were deliberately avoiding him.
Garp, who had waited for his cowardly friend with understanding, sank into deep sorrow and loss once he realized Solomon was avoiding him.
Solomon, my friend... did you really think I'd cast you aside over something as trivial as honor? By now, I'm less angry that I couldn't finish off Rocks than I am sad that I may never see you again... Roger probably died with the same regret. Please, come see me at least once before I die. Before it's too late... I don't even have the strength to flick your forehead anymore, so don't be afraid.
Solomon had not actually been avoiding Garp on purpose, but the result was the same: Garp had never once been able to meet him, so the misunderstanding was inevitable.
Then, all of a sudden, word came through Kizaru that Solomon—the man even Marine Intelligence could barely get any information on no matter how hard they pressed—would be making an official visit to Marine Headquarters.
Garp had been overjoyed, but he hid it on the surface. He hurried back to Marine Headquarters to personally greet his old friend, even giving up his own leave and forcibly making Aokiji give up his as well.
There was so much he wanted to say.
And there, in the distance, he saw Solomon.
The same mysterious young man with long gray hair, untouched by time, exactly as he had been at glorious God Valley, where he had joined forces with Roger and Garp to defeat Rocks and open a new era.
Garp had told himself over and over not to get angry first, that if he scared Solomon off things might go wrong. But when he saw Solomon, unchanged from those days while he himself had grown old, he could not hold back in the end. No—considering Garp's personality, the fact that he had restrained himself this long was a miracle in itself.
Three pairs of handcuffs broke, and five gags snapped apart.
Only after causing that much chaos did Garp finally calm down.
"Solomon!!!"
Eek.
Even if Garp had grown old, Solomon knew what Garp had been like in his prime. He had no doubt whatsoever that if even one of those heartfelt punches landed, his frail body would be flattened on the spot. So he hid behind Kizaru and only peeked his head out.
"Don't run! If you want to step into Marine Headquarters, you'll have to walk over my corpse first!"
Solomon flinched.
"Bring more sedatives!"
Sengoku shouted as he held Garp down with all his strength. Even after twelve doses of tranquilizer meant for wild beasts, it still wasn't enough to settle Garp's fury.
Just as the rank-and-file Marines were about to jam another enormous syringe into Garp's arm, Solomon—silent until now—finally spoke.
"Sengoku. That's enough. He has every right."
"...Understood."
Sengoku felt it then. Something in Solomon's state of mind had changed.
The strength in Sengoku's arms, which had been pinning down Garp's whole body, eased.
Garp's mind was a little hazy from the excessive sedatives, but he had not completely lost his reason.
Slowly, he rose to his feet and took one step, then another, toward Solomon.
Kizaru hurriedly spread both arms to block him, but Solomon stopped him from behind.
At last.
After decades, Garp was reunited with the infuriating old friend he had wanted so badly to see.
Garp raised his clenched fist and lightly set it on the head of his small friend, who only came up to his waist.
"Huff... I'm so damn old now that even when I try to sock you, this is my limit. Damn it. Where the hell have you been all this time, showing up only now?"
"Garp..."
"...It's all in the past. I've forgotten it. Honestly, at this point, it doesn't matter who got to put the end to Rocks. It's fine. Enough. You came now, and that's enough... no need for apologies or anything... you idiot..."
Tears as big as hornets dropped onto Solomon's face as he stared blankly at Garp. They were hot. Solomon could not bring himself to casually wipe away the tears his old friend was shedding from the depths of his heart.
"Roger wanted to see you once too, back when he was in prison... There's a lot to talk about. Come on, let's head inside. Later tonight, we'll have a drink too... I know a good spot..."
Solomon's emotions swelled as well.
He took out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at the corner of his eyes, then silently followed behind Garp as the old man turned away. After quickening his pace a little, he naturally moved up to walk side by side with him.
Looking at the friend walking beside him just like in those distant days... one of Garp's greatest lingering regrets vanished completely, and he felt a deep sense of relief as he playfully patted Solomon on the shoulder. If the sun had been setting too, it might have looked like the happy ending of a perfect western.
"Pwahahaha!!! Sengoku!!!! This brat is my friend!!!!! A precious friend precious enough that I'd really get angry if anyone treated him like the usual trash from up above!!!!!!"
"I honestly have no idea what is happening here. Garp, explain. First you got angry, then you cried, and now this is... what exactly...?"
"Just leave it all to me! I guarantee this chicken-hearted bastard won't do anything to trouble the Marines!"
Still dazed, Sengoku tactfully wrapped up Solomon's welcome ceremony as Garp and Solomon moved along together. He was relieved, too, since the budget was already tight enough as it was. Just as Sengoku had guessed, Solomon had little interest in empty pomp and ceremony.
After entering the Marine Headquarters briefing room, Solomon, since this was an official visit after all, offered a few formal words of goodwill to the Marine officers and wrapped up the scheduled proceedings. Then he sat down with Garp and Sengoku for a far less formal conversation.
"Hohoho... I see. So what you mean is... you want to recover the job seekers who were taken into the Human Shop at Sabaody Archipelago?"
"You catch on quickly, Sengoku. It may be called a job placement center, but no one in this world is ignorant enough not to know it's really a Human Shop—a slave trader—so there's no need to use those ceremonial terms people trot out in official settings."
"I only phrased it that way in case it might make you uncomfortable. Understood. But if they've already been sold elsewhere, there's nothing we can do from our side."
"I'm not expecting that much. I'll handle what comes after. It's lamentable that even though the Marines call themselves an institution of justice, reality makes it so hard for you to step in where true justice is actually needed."
"Pwahahaha! Solomon! That's only because every Celestial Dragon besides you is worthless trash no one can deal with!"
"Hey! Hey! Garp! Watch your mouth!"
"What?! Did I say anything wrong?! Sengoku! Honestly, you hate the Celestial Dragons too, don't you? I still can't stand that former Fleet Admiral Kong! He tricked me into cleaning up after that kind of garbage!"
Dangerous words that could never have been spoken in front of any other Celestial Dragon passed between the legends of the Marines. With Solomon's tacit permission, they freely voiced the sort of blasphemy they normally could hardly even think aloud. In truth, Sengoku had accumulated no less resentment toward the Celestial Dragons than Garp had—if anything, perhaps even more.
"Let's drink all night, then set sail for Sabaody Archipelago tomorrow afternoon. Solomon. It's not quite a pheasant instead of a chicken... but Rayleigh and Shakky are there. Why not take the chance to see them too?"
"Those two are still alive?"
"Yeah. Their pirate crimes haven't vanished, but the Marines don't have the manpower to go picking fights with old monsters who are living quietly, so we leave them alone. It's a kind of gray zone. Without at least that much flexibility, how could the Marines possibly cover this entire vast sea?"
"I met Gloriosa not long ago. I'm looking forward to seeing them too. They've probably changed a lot, just like you, Garp."
"Sounds like you're getting smug because you're the only one who doesn't age. Pwahaha!"
"Th-that's not it... I do age too, just slowly. For one thing, this body isn't a Servant's body..."
"What's a Servant? Some kind of that Magecraft of yours?"
"Curious? Want me to explain?"
Solomon gave Garp a rough explanation of the concepts of Servants and the Throne of Heroic Spirits.
After hearing about Servants, Garp immediately made a cheerful suggestion that was perfectly in character for him.
"Hey! If you've got a great system like that, couldn't you use it to help out the Marines, since we're already short on manpower? Drag that bastard Roger up out of hell and make him serve as a rookie Marine for about a hundred years!!! Just imagining it is killing me!!!"
Solomon found himself genuinely intrigued. He was suddenly curious what Roger would be like if summoned as a Servant, and Garp's joking idea struck him as a surprisingly fascinating proposal.
This might actually be useful.
The night of friendship deepened as the drinks kept flowing.
For justice, friendship, and romance.
"Cheers."
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