Author's note: So I just realized that unlike Fanfic-Fr, there's no "Author's note" fields in the Story Manager. That sucks. Anyway...

Welcome here, you bold reader! I'm totally scared by what I'm about to do, meaning publishing this text because long story short I'm French. And it's the first time I'm writing fanfiction in English, not mentioning writing on One Piece. My apologies about the mistakes you might find while reading (feel free to show them to me).

Sparks will be a one-shot's collection by the way. Mainly focusing on the Whitebeard's pirates and including some OCs because I wanted/needed to.
The song I listened to for Getting old was Andrea Perry and Lily Hickman Waldon's Awake.

I'll stop talking now, and I'll meet you down the page. Hope you'll enjoy it just as much as I loved writing it.

Oh, and before I forget it: thank you Corail Chérie for being such a kind proofreader.

Sparks – Getting old

It was quite a quiet night on the Moby Dick. After an usual little party, all of his drunk brothers had fallen asleep except for the poor fellow on night watch in the crow's nest. Even Ace and his not-so-well-hidden regular insomnia seemed to have vanished somewhere else on the ship. And there he was, leaning against the railing, his softly smoking kiseru in his hands, spacing out into the starry darkness. Izo wasn't really the kind of man to worry about the future. He had found what he wasn't looking for years ago and was quite happy with this family and their way of living. But a part of him knew that all this wasn't meant to last forever. He let out a sigh and gulped the rest of his cup of sake. What was the point torturing himself with all of this now eh?

A door opened not far from him and he heard a relieved yawn followed by some lazy footsteps. Marco was still stretching when he came to his brother's side.

"Izo? Still awake? What about your beauty sleep yoi?" The flat tone didn't even surprise him. He has been such a pain about his needed hours of rest that now everybody knew how sleep matters to him.

"I'll catch it up another day I guess," he chuckled, still looking at the sea. "Make up really makes wonder anyhow. Did all this insane paperwork hold you hostage until now?"

"Yup, but it's finally over, well, until next week. Ah... Sometimes I don't get it. Why do I even have to keep a record on the number of tow— Nevermind..." He frowned, looking at the slightly shaking hands of his brother, changing the tobacco in his pipe before lighting it. "What's bothering you yoi?"

"It's no big deal," Izo replied after taking a long puff. "Feeling old and stuff..."

The first mate tittered, trying to cheer his friend up. "Feeling old? C'mon, we're in our brightest days ! You'll have the right to worry when you'll be older than Pops, not 'til then yoi."

"But I do worry." He faced his brother. "Since Ace joined us something has changed. I don't blame him, he's such a nice kid... Still, he's so young that it has reminded me of my own age and the crew's. And I can't help but wondering what will happen in five or ten years."

"I get it, Izo. But Pops is well. And even if the medical staff is discreet, Jill and the nurses are really cautious. Our father is fine," he said, instilling truth in each of his words.

"Thanks Marco." The cross-dresser smiled. "I know he is. You just have to look how he has beaten the shit out of our hothead while sleeping."

They both laughed, remembering the look on Thatch's face when he understood that he will have to fish a drowning Ace out of the sea. Marco turned his back to the soothing waves and looked at the deserted deck, noticing some remaining bottles. He left to fetch the fuller ones and came back to Izo, sitting down against the railing with a determined sigh.

Somehow, he knew it wasn't over. His brother was the kind of man to only tell you the small part of his concern. He needed time to sort it all out in his head first, before even considering entrusting his inner struggle to someone. And now was the time for him to ease his mind, even if he wasn't aware of it yet.

"Want some?" Marco asked, pouring rum in a borrowed tankard.

"Sure do." He gave the Phoenix his cup before joining him on the wooden floor, his elbow resting on his right knee. He smoothed absent-mindedly some invisible lines on his grey yukata out.

"All right. Spit it out," said his brother, handing him the now filled cup.

"No... You don't have to worry about my annoying existential crisis. It'll fade away just like it has come," he answered, waving his hand.

"Izo..." The look in Marco's eyes wasn't his usual half bored half annoyed one. He was glaring at him seriously. The dark haired man glanced back to his hands, playing with the alcohol in his cup, before letting out a sigh.

"I won't survive him. I don't want to."

The first commander straightened up, startled. "But..."

"No. I've made up my mind. Oyaji is in his early seventies and I'm glad of it. We're so lucky is still with us... But I'm in my late thirties and I'll turn forty in the blink of an eye. Getting old, well, that's not what I want, that's not why I was raised for."

"I don't understand."

"I wasn't expecting you to." He smiled softly, taking a sip of rum. "You know a bit about my life before joining the crew. I was born in the Wa Country, the last of my siblings. My mother wanted a girl and raised me like one. I always have been told that my beauty and my good manners were all I have, all I needed. I was up to every beauty standards in Wa and yet I was nobody. A man dressing like a woman, such a shame for a recognised warrior family like mine. However, my beauty was my pride, and still is. I love the way I look. I love the man all of you made me become."

"What's the problem then?"

"There's none! I just want to die while I'm still young and handsome. That's all."

"But..." Marco wasn't getting it.

"Look, I love my life with all of you, I couldn't have expected better. But knowing that one day, we'll be on our own, without Oyaji, and that time will still fly by, disfiguring me, making me old and wrinkled, it's just making me want to jump overboard."

"When?"

"When?" Izo repeated, uncertain.

"When will you kill yourself? So I can plan your funerals." Marco's fists clenched in anger as a sad smile stretched Izo's lips. "Ah... See, I shouldn't have told you."

"Yeah, that way you could have disappeared from day to day."

"Marco, that's not—"

"That's not what you said? C'mon, just admit it. Just admit how selfish, how vain, how self-important you think you are!" He was shouting out at Izo, still smiling, a provoking and amused glimpse in his eyes. "I thought you'll stay more collected as the first mate."

"I'm not your first mate, I'm your brother and we're talking about your death, for God's sake!"

"I know, I know. Please calm down. Take a sip of rum... There... Now listen. I'm vain and selfish, that's true. But I'm not going to disappear from day to day. I was just telling you that what I fear the most, except losing Oyaji or one of you, was to get old. To let the time disfigured me without doing anything. I can't stand it. I know you don't care how I look, but for me it matters. 'Cause my handsomeness is a major element of my life. Thanks to it I was able to survive in this dark and cruel world. I was able to survive until I found you all. So I can't toss it back like it was nothing. I just can't."

"Stop frowning that much, then," Marco said harshly before calming down. Izo's mouth dropped in astonishment. "Touché!" he chuckled. "Do you get it now?"

"I think I do."

"As long as Oyaji's alive, you don't have to fear anything. Well, even if he... Ah... I don't know." He ran his hands through his hair, bringing chaos to his previously perfect bun. "It's just how I'm feeling now. I was thinking about my life, about our father getting old too, about life here being way too joyful to be true and last forever and... I don't know... I got scared. Sorry."

"It's alright, Izo. I'm glad you opened up and told me what was on your mind. That's also what we're here for. Not only fighting, partying and drinking, but also listening to each other when there's something wrong. Okay?"

"Yeah, got it. Thanks."

"Yet, next time you talk about your own death so insensitively, I'll kick your ass off to the moon and back. And you perfectly know I can with those phoenix wings I have," he said, a hint of entertainment in his dark eyes.

"I've never been to the moon! I'll look forward to it then," the cross-dresser laughed, taking another bottle of rum.

And all of a sudden, life seemed as bright as before. Death didn't really matter anymore. He was there, with one of his many brothers, enjoying that starry summer night. There was just a little dark stain on this idyllic picture.

"Can you—"

"Keep this for myself? Of course I can. And I will, unless all of this affects your judgment as a commander or worries me too much. In that case, I'll tell Pops and we'll find a way to get some common sense into that thick skull of yours."

"Deal!" he grinned, reassured.

The door opened again, revealing a dishevelled and sleepy Thatch. Wrapped up in a duvet, he came closer to the two commanders, staring at him wide-eyed, a grumpy look on his face.

"Thatch... Your... Your hair!" Izo gasped, trying hard not to laugh.

"Yeah. I know. Welcome back to the real world," he grumbled, running a hand through his uncombed haircut.

"What happened Thatch? A nightmare? Did you dream about being chased by flying potatoes again?" Marco grinned.

"Believe it or not, I would have preferred that," he growled, noticing the bottles of rum and taking a swig from one of them.

"Oh, c'mon! Cut the suspense Thatch! What happened?" Izo wasn't really known for his patience toward some of his brothers. Marco chuckled, feeling the general mood lighten. Thatch stories were always fun and entertaining, even if most of the time they were only making fun of his own misfortunes.

"When I went to bed, passably drunk, everything was normal. I was having a well-deserved good night's sleep in our dormitory and then I've been waking up with a start by some barbaric snoring! So now there's only one thing I want to know, Marco. When will Jozu get back to wherever the hell his ship is?"

They both laughed at the angry tone of their brother. Poor Thatch. Being a light sleeper really wasn't an advantage in such a big crew.

"He said he was leaving tomorrow," a deep voice interrupted from the higher deck.

"Thank goodness!" yelled the fourth commander, adjusting his duvet while sitting cross-legged, facing his friends.

The newcomer, who was none other than Ace, walked down the stairs with an incredible agility considering the late hour, and came nearer the noisy men. "Seriously guys, don't you have enough time to talk and laugh during the day?"

"That's not sufficient, obviously!" Izo grinned. "Did we wake you up?"

"Nah, I was just resting on the Moby's bow, enjoying the stars... and that bloody welcomed silence."

The young man perched himself on the railing and pushed back his head to look at the glowing sky, his orange hat hanging down in his back.

"Was your crew a quiet one?" Marco wondered.

"The Spades? Hell no! Always ready to party. You just have to look how they just fit in with your crew! Such a foregone conclusion..."

"Guess you have a point, they're never the last to join us for a drink. By the way, what about you Ace? You alright? I thought you were already sleeping," the cross-dresser said.

"You know what they say. I'll get all the sleep I need when I'll be dead!" he smiled before seeing the discontented eyes of his brothers. "Which will not happen before a looong looooong time, I swear!" he carried on before he went back to glaring at the sky. "Ah, it doesn't matter... I enjoy that atmosphere too much to deprive me of it anyway."

"That atmosphere?" Thatch asked, a bit lost.

"Yeah, that quiet mood. At night time seems to go by slowly. Everyone's sleeping. You can hear the waves crashing against the ship and the wind filling the sails and the wood lightly cracking. Not mentioning that amazing sky. The day life on board is cool, but at night... I don't know. You really can believe that you're alone sailing deeper and deeper into the New World. And even so, you know you're not all by yourself and that's great! It's like another life, showing you how free you are," the teenager finally concluded, widely grinning to his elder brothers. They nodded.

"How can you use so many words at such a late hour?" Thatch scoffed, weary, before smiling softly. "I understand though." He yawned, followed by Marco and Ace, making Izo laugh. "Ace, those two are already beyond saving," he said, pointing his brothers out, "but if you stay awake too long, you'll have permanent dark-ringed eyes before you realised it, believe me!"

"And you'll have to borrow Izo's makeup to conceal it!" Thatch added a cheerful grin on his face.

"Like I'll lend it to him!" Izo said, outraged. "Ew, I'll go get some sleep then!" The teen chuckled as he jumped off the railing and walked back to the door, waving goodnight to his nakama.

Once he was gone, the silence fell over the three of them. Thatch fought off the sleep while Marco seemed lost in his thoughts. "He's so cute," Izo whispered, thinking of their youngest brother.

"Yeah, like a lone wolf cub," Thatch said, his voice slightly muffled. Izo chuckled at the comparison. "I'm glad he's with us. It seems so right. Like we were missing something before he was there! Isn't it insane?"

"What's insane is the amount of food he can stuff down!" the Chef retorted. "But, yeah, you're right. He's starting to fit just fine. That's great. And geez, have you seen that dazzling smile he gave us?"

"Yes, too much happiness in just one human being! Good to see though, he seems so withdrawn sometimes. What do you think Marco?"

The first commander got to his feet and let out a deep sigh. "He's finally part of our family, that's a big thing for him, but he'll come around. Yet, as Commanders and older brothers, we'll have to be careful. You've seen it. As happy-go-lucky and sunny as he seemed, he also has his own insecurities, his own shadows. And his youth won't help him..."

"Don't worry Marco, we'll keep an eye on him, like we always did for each and every one of us." Thatch said, standing up in turn, a sleepy yet assured smile stretching his lips. "I'm not worried, well not that much," Marco said flatly as Izo rose. "Let's sleep on it. We deserve some rest, anyway."

"Thatch's right. We'll look after him. That's also why brothers are here for, right?" Izo winked at Marco while following his brothers to the door.

The three brothers disappeared in the depths of the ship, and the Moby Dick's deck found peace again, only troubled by the wind, the waves and a quiet snoring from the crow's nest.

Thank you for reading. So, how was it?

As I said earlier, feel free to show me the mistakes you found/give me pieces of advice and stuff.

I don't know when I'll be posting another one-shot, even though I'm still in the middle of writing one, the head full of lovely plot bunnies, because I want to translate and publish this one in French first (sounds long and difficult even for me huh).

See you around,
Lily.

Edit (01/11/18) : Minor correcting