Marco climbed on the hill, thinking about the council that had taken place today.

Commanders of all divisions gave him an ultimatum, which he would address within twenty four hours, otherwise the others would take matters into their own hands.

It's not that Marco ignores their feelings. He understood them better than any of his brothers thought – he was with Oyaji the longest and nothing unites people more than hardships of a common adventure.

Unfortunately, the reality complicated things.

On the one hand, the Navy watched the actions of the survivors, on the other, complaints and requests for help from the territories belonging to Oyaji were coming to him, while two other Emperors tried to claim them as their own. People were afraid that the protection guaranteed by the pact with Whitebeard would expire with his death, and this has led to panic.

Because of his seniority the crew agreed that Marco would be the new captain, hoping that the first order he would issue, would be the mobilization to revenge their fallen family members and pay Blackbeard back.

However, it had not happen.

Marco intended to protect his family, as the Old Man did, but in the current situation he could only postpone the clash with Teach.

Part of the crew opposed openly opposed him, some maintained a neutral attitude, but the majority accepted his decision, considering it the most reasonable, regardless of their opinion on the subject.

Those who doubted his intentions the most – of all possible moments in their mutual history – were the division commanders. It diminished the general morale of the entire crew. If there was a lack of solidarity among those at charge, it was only a matter of time that others would search for it under the flag of other captains. The first ten resigned this morning.

Marco felt that this was just the beginning.

He clenched the bouquet of flowers.

And it was only a few weeks after Oyaji's death.

If only he could stop the Admiral in time instead of being shackled into those chains. It was enough for him to be just a little faster – he could fly, push Ace out of reach of Akainu's attack.

Marco would not be harmed. He could heal from every wound, but his brother...

The fruitless speculations would led him nowhere.

Through difficult decisions faith in the crew was crucial. Somehow, they would survive this crisis.

Or they would fall trying.

The Oyaji's coat, visible from the bottom of the hill, flapped in the wind. Ace's hat and dagger were still hidden behind the green bulge, which allowed Marco to think for a little bit more that they were not there.

At the hilltop someone has already lit incense.

After tensed muscle of the mysterious figure Marco guessed that the blond sitting at Ace's grave sensed his presence, but did not react in any visible way.

He did not even turn around. Just sat there, like nothing happened.

As wide as the sea was, there were so many pirates who want freedom and treasures – it was difficult to know each and every one, but a hunch prompted Marco that he was dealing with someone very dangerous.

Years spent on sailing with Oyaji had taught him the difference between thoughtlessness and stubbornness in pursuing one's goal – things that separated dangerous people from mindless fools.

This one here was definitely not weak.

A whiff lifted the hat hanging on the dagger – Marco wondered if anyone had fixed it permanently, when the more stronger breeze carried it over the cliff.

Guided by instinct – he had done it so many times – Marco turned into his bird form and raised on the same whiff to catch the orange treasure. With a hat in his bill, he flew towards the hill, where the strange blond man watched him with fascination.

Marco made a few circles – mainly from habit.

Ace shouted at him from the deck that he had already learned the lesson and that he would be more cautious in the future. And finally Marco's favorite sulked claim: Marco behaved like a kid.

For a moment he expected that the stranger would do the same.

He did not quite understand, where these thoughts had come from.

He also counted that his unwillingness for open conversation would discourage the kid, but Marco could see that he was just as stubborn as Ace.

After the first shock the stranger looked at the mystical creature with a smile on his lips.

Marco lowered his flight and, while returning to the human form, he dropped the most precious remembrance of his brother into the hands of the stranger.

He felt like it it was safe there for some reason.

At the time when he was collecting the abandoned bunch from the ground, the kid hung the hat on the dagger again – this time tying it to the hilt.

They stood in silence over the burning incenses.

The silence was filled with the rustle of grass – the kind that had grown over the ankles, because nobody tried to prune or nibble them.

A soft sound soothed their wounded hearts.

Marco noticed that some of the wilted flowers were covered with a layer of fresh bouquets.

In fact, it should not come as a surprise that people were stile coming to pay respects to the died Emperor. Many of them appreciated his efforts to ensure balance between the pirate brothers and the rest of the world.

Marco still did not know, what to do with the ultimatum he had been given. He deluded himself that coming here would help, that he would find the answer as he always did when he addressed Oyaji with a request for advice.

He should have know better.

Marco scratched his neck and saw the kid, watched him from the corner of his eyes.

He did not look tense or disturbed.

Marco had the impression that he was immature one, avoiding open confrontation.

"I did not know you were also blond. The photo on the wanted poster did not include... you know?"

He pointed to the top of his head with a sheepish smile that said he did not try to offend Marco's haircut.

The stranger chuckled at the blush of his remark.

If Marco expected any question, certainly not the one of this nature.

"Ace could behave like a boor, but at least he had a taste" the kid laughed again before looking ahead.

His eyes focused on the distant, wide horizon, but went much further, to a place that had been far away.

To the world of memories.

He closed his eyes and Marco let him fell into a silent prayer. When he finished, the stranger turned on his heels and said-

"See you."

Marco stood there with his mouth open, staring at the back of the kid while he walked away. He had no idea, what to think about the stranger.

He scratched his head, addressing the hat.

"Another of your crazy relatives, yoi?"

When he finally got the meaning of the kid's statement, Marco almost burnt in shame.

Ace had taste.

We're both blonds.

Marco saw in those bright eyes a loss that he could only compare to the despair felt after the death of a family member or...

Marco opened his eyes wider.

We're both blonds.

It could not have been about... this.

Marco turned, looking at the figure on a mountain slope.

The kid, as if summoned by Marco's thoughts, stopped and turned. There was a wide, playful smile on his lips as he winked at Marco and laughed.

What a cheeky brat.

Marco could not help a weak smile bloomed on his mouth, dissipated the grim mood from the morning discussion.

The kid, apparently pleased with the effect of his trick, took up his journey without turning around again.

Yes, definitely Ace's relative.


I should have posting a new chapter of "A wish" today, but I'm stuck in the middle of the chapter and need a little break, so I translated this one-shot (with a help of Google translate - it's suprasingly correct, or my knowledge of English is this bad, who knows) for you. It's the meeting between Marco and Sabo that I'd have in mind for this fic, so I could let you know, what it's looking like. There'd be another one translation (a meeting between Law and Shanks), so I hope the waiting for the next chapter would be so bad for you, my lovely readers.

Let me know, what you think (or if you even like it) and don't forget to visit me on my tumblr.

To the next time!