Kuzan leaned against the frame of Teach’s cabin, hands buried in his coat pockets, one foot lazily crossed over the other. The creak of the ship beneath him was steady, almost soothing, though the murmured voices behind the door pulled at his attention. Teach didn’t usually meet people alone. Whoever the woman was, she was important or dangerous enough to warrant privacy, and that didn't sit well with him at all.

When the door finally opened, she stepped out, black hair cascading down her back, sharp eyes glinting in the dim lantern light. Something about her face tugged at memory... familiar in a way that set unease low in his gut.

She passed him without a word, the faint scent of sea salt and smoke trailing behind her. That shouldn't have awakened any memory, but it did. Marineford. That one obstacle in the shape of a woman with blood in her hands.

Kuzan’s brow furrowed as he pushed off the wall, falling into step behind her. Not close enough to alarm her, not far enough to lose her in the winding corridors of the ship.

There was something in the way she carried herself, like she belonged here, yet didn’t. And that, more than anything, made him curious.

Kuzan’s voice was low, almost casual, but edged with quiet curiosity as he followed her down the hall.

”Funny. I can’t shake the feeling we’ve met before… have we?”