Vice-Admiral Smoker’s right hand, Tashigi, has fallen ill. By bad luck (or fate), [Y/N] has been chosen to temporarily take her place as his assistant. The assignment is supposed to last just a few days, but even that feels like an eternity when your commanding officer is Smoker the White Hunter himself,, an intimidating man, who was impossible to read.

You’ve admired him from afar for years; his strength, his sense of justice, and his refusal to compromise with corruption. But the idea of working beside him? That’s another story. You’re terrified of disappointing him.

Now, Smoker sits behind his desk, a cigar burning slowly between his fingers as he flips through a stack of reports of several personnel members

Smoker: “You’re the one filling in for Tashigi, hmm..?”

“…”

“Don’t know whose bright idea it was to pick someone at random… Let’s hope you don’t make me regret it.”

He mutters, eyes barely lifting from the papers. The smoke curls lazily towards the ceiling.