Pairings: Ace/Marco, Roger/Rouge
Warnings: (past) attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, mention of war/massacre, violence, minor character death.
Based on the anime Kyousougiga, which I think everyone should watch. Absolutely gorgeous animation and really nice characters. This story was born out of shipping two of the characters, realising I wanted them to actually get together, but not being able to give up writing Marco and Ace.
I have a lot of thanks to give out with this story. First of all I want to thank my amazing partner for this story, ohhhnnooo, for drawing some of the most gorgeous art I've ever seen for this story. I don't think I'd have been able to complete this project without your support, and I've had so much fun working with you. Thank you! The art can be found on my profile [link to be added]
I also have to give a big thank you to lunarshores for betaing this story mainly, but also for taking the reins of the event while I was swimming around waterfalls counting fish species. You've been a massive pillar of support and this story would never be half of what it is without you.
I also want to say a final thank you to everyone participating in this year's opbigbang. It's been a lot of work for all of us and I'm so excited to be kicking this event off. I hope I haven't scared you off with the massive word count and effort it takes to participate in a big bang, and thank you so much for completing the first run of this event with me.
I hope you enjoy the story, feedback - including concrit - is always very welcome.
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Cicadas chirp outside as Marco moves through his home. It's a hot day, and he fans himself with a hand, glad he chose today to hang his kimonos out to dry. He doesn't have any duties to attend to, so there is no need for his usual attire, and Marco bites into a chunk of juicy watermelon as he looks out at the line of blue kimonos hanging in his garden.
He wipes juices away from his mouth with the back of his hand and stand, collecting his watermelon rinds and moving to the kitchen. The sound of claws against the floor follow him, and Marco glances down, raising an eyebrow as Thatch sits, wagging his tail and panting, fully expecting a reward for following Marco.
"You're a terrible dog," Marco mutters, but he throws Thatch a piece of watermelon anyway. He tidies the rest of the melon away, fingers lingering against the hilt of the knife he used before he hurries to place it in the dishwasher.
It's strange, Marco thinks, to have a day free. Usually, he'd be with his master, watching over their world and its people. There are only two of them, him and a man who goes by the name of Whitebeard. They've worked together for a long, long time now, and Marco is fond of Whitebeard, in the way a child becomes fond of an adoptive parent. Perhaps Marco could have loved him if not for… well.
He shakes his head. Today isn't a day to think of that, Marco decides, and he closes the dishwasher, moving to check on the kimonos outside. It is very hot, and they might have dried already – or so Marco hopes.
A strange, worm-like object floats through the sky, pulsing rainbow colours. Marco pays it no more than a cursory glance, used to the oddities of this world. If it exists, by any stretch of the imagination, then this world has it, he has come to learn.
He is fond of this world too, though less than he is of Whitebeard. Marco also hates this world, but that's because he knows what other worlds exist. His nights are full of dreams of the other world (the real world, his mind whispers sometimes, when the world is dark), and Marco knows that he'll return to his birth universe one day. That isn't an option.
The kimonos are still a little damp. Marco turns them, checking the fabric tenderly, though they won't have any tears or faults. Nothing in this world stays broken, after all.
As if to prove his point, Thatch barrels into one of the cabinets inside, knocking down a picture of Marco and Whitebeard. The portrait falls to the ground and smashes, but Marco simply watches it without emotion. It's smashed so many times before that he really should think about finding another place for the picture, but it just seems worthless.
Right before Marco's eyes, the picture frame mends itself, glass melting seamlessly back in place. It even floats up to rest back against a vase of flowers, and Marco turns away, frown on his face.
This place doesn't feel real, he thinks. It's what Marco's always thinks. This world is too perfect, too tidy, and too convenient. Nothing ever breaks; the world keeps on running and would keep on going regardless of what Marco and Whitebeard did.
The last kimono is dry, and Marco makes a snap decision. Usually on his days off he keeps to his house, haunting the rooms like a ghost, but he's decided against that today. He feels too restless and knows he needs to get out. Thatch seems to like the idea too, bouncing around his ankles as Marco dresses. His kimono is simple, a light blue fading to a darker blue, but it marks him as the Priest he is. It's his uniform, essentially.
With a gurgling roar, Marco's moped comes to life. Thatch barks as a cloud of smoke pumps out the back, but there is no need to worry. If the moped breaks, the world will fix it. It's as simple as that.
They set out slowly (not that the moped can go that quickly anyway), with Thatch keeping pace easily at a trot. They head down cobbled roads and pass people and creatures alike, the sun brilliant and golden overhead. It's is a picturesque day, and Marco wishes there was someone other than his dog there to enjoy it with him.
Thatch knows where they're heading, and he takes off as they get closer. Marco wouldn't worry even if Thatch did get lost – the dog's been with him for decades. He was born, like Marco, in the real world, and Marco wonders if he too was given the devil's power.
Marco grits his teeth and takes a deep breath in, trying to focus on something other than that man. He's almost at the shrine, almost with Shanks. What he needs is company, not to dwell on the past or his present duties.
Shanks is waiting for him, one hand buried in Thatch's fur. The shrine is a little shabby; it always has been, but it's a popular one, dedicated to fox spirits if Marco's knowledge on the place is correct. There aren't any statues, but a stone tablet with foxes and an ancient language carved upon it stand in the centre of the shrine, so Marco doesn't think he's too out there with his assumption.
"Phoenix," Shanks says, nodding respectfully. Thatch climbs the stairs behind them, and Marco brings his moped closer.
"It's good to see you," Marco replies and notices that they are not alone today. A few other people are enjoying the shrine, as well as some strange looking creatures. Marco nods to the ones who greet him, though he doesn't leave Shanks. He's not on business today.
Shanks has always been a good friend to Marco. Marco doesn't have many people he considers friends – there's Whitebeard and Thatch, of course, but that's it really – but Shanks is the only one he made by choice. Whitebeard and he share duties (and if not for those duties, Whitebeard wouldn't even be here) and Thatch… well, Thatch is a dog, even if he is an extremely intelligent dog. Shanks is the only one he could really choose, and they get on well.
"Day off today?" Shanks asks, and Marco inclines his head. Marco wouldn't be here at this time of day if he is on duty.
"Felt like getting out of the house," Marco replies, sitting on the shine steps and closing his eyes. It's peaceful here, and he always seeks solitude on the steps of the shrine.
Shanks hums to himself. Marco thinks he oversees the shrine, but he's never been too sure. He doubts Shanks knows what he does. He's a man who does what he wants, and that sees to suit him just fine.
"You look restless," Shanks comments, and Marco shrugs his shoulders. He is restless, but he doesn't know why. "Is something going to happen?"
Shanks actually sounds worried at that, and Marco cracks an eye open. He doesn't know why Shanks is worrying. Nothing irreversible happens around here, though usually Marco gets this sort of mood when the station opens. The station won't open for another few months yet, so his unease is a mystery still.
"Who knows," Marco says, closing his eye again and letting the nearby birdsong wash over him. He can feel Shanks move away and soon hears him talking to some young girls, helping them to choose what charm they wished to impart good luck upon.
He lets the sound of his world take him away, back to the place he'd been born. He doesn't remember much of it anymore, but what Marco can remember fills him with terror or excitement. He would love to see that world again, live in that world where he should belong but knows it is impossible. He does not have the power to leave this world. The one who did is long gone.
"This shrine is for you, you know," Shanks says, throwing something round and solid onto Marco's lap. His hands move to cup the object, and he stills when his fingers touch pulpy flesh.
Shanks doesn't know, Marco tells himself as he looks down at the ruby seeds. They look juicy and ripe, tempting, and he feels entranced by the pomegranate half Shanks gave him. Shanks is busy picking out the seeds himself and smiles when he notices Marco glancing at him.
"They're my favourite. Everyone seems to have caught onto that, and they give me gifts." Shanks laughs. "I have too many now!"
Marco nods, tension easing from his shoulders. He pokes a few of the pomegranate seeds before he raises the fruit to his lips, biting into the flesh whole. Shanks gives him a horrified look, which is probably deserved because pomegranate flesh is disgusting, and Marco's face wrinkles before he swallows his mouthful a little painfully.
"Do you have any water?" he says, and Shanks laughs, shaking his head. He runs up the stairs to the little hut that sits at the top of the shrine, and Marco sighs. He'll never taste the sweetness of life again, no matter how many pomegranates he bites into.
Thatch makes an appearance at Marco's side, laying his head in Marco's lap with a whine. Marco reaches out a hand to scratch Thatch's head, knocking the pomegranate to the ground in the process. Thatch leaps on it eagerly, something that Marco doesn't mind. He was only going to let the rest of the fruit go to waste anyway.
"Here," Shanks says when he returns, holding out a bottle of water. He fans himself, looking up at the sun, and Marco follows his gaze. There are some creatures in the sky twirling around on high winds. They look joyful, and Marco takes in a deep breath.
No matter how much he may want to leave, he does love this world. It is his home, the only safe home he really remembers, but if he was ever given the chance to leave, Marco knows he would have hesitations.
"Thanks," Marco says, standing. "We should go drinking again soon," he continues, moving to his moped. Shanks nods slowly, waving him and Thatch off as they begin their journey home.
When he arrives back home, Marco sets about collecting his kimonos. He tidies the house (not that it was messy before) and checks the time. It's evening now, and he can call it a reasonable time to start dinner, so he does, working in silence the entire time.
The weather has closed in while Marco's been cooking, and he shuts his doors to the world. He can still see, he keeps the shutters off for now, and he watches the sky darken, clouds covering the moon and stars. The air seems still, and Marco tightens his fist, ruby beads slipping over his left wrist and palm, his power fizzing under his skin. Something is about to happen, and Marco isn't sure what it will mean for their world.
Everything seems to pause for a moment, before a huge flash of lightning illuminates the gathered clouds. Thunder follows quickly and the entire sky erupts in forks of lightning.
Marco curses, hurrying to the door. He shoves he first pair of shoes on he can and hurries to his moped. Rain begins to pour down, and it's not long before Marco is soaked to the skin. He is cold, but he presses on still. He can't worry about being dry: he has to get to the temple for now. Something this serious will need his and Whitebeard's guidance.
The very earth seems to shake, before everything grows still once more. Marco can sense it isn't over, though, and he peers into the clouds, trying to see what is happening. The hairs all over his body begin to stand on end, and Marco sucks in a breath, a huge fork of lightning striking the highest point of the city, the sacred temple where Marco and Whitebeard govern over the city.
It feels as though the very life is pushed out of Marco as the lightning hits the tower, and he slides off of his moped, cracking his head against the pavement. He groans, trying to right himself as his vision blurs, life threatening injuries healing until all evidence of his crash Marco has left is a slight red patch of skin.
His moped is damaged and, for some reason, refusing to mend. He leaves it at the side of the road, eager to get to the temple. He isn't far now, and it takes him less than 10 minutes to reach the base of the temple. Marco pauses, breathing heavily, and looks up at the sky.
The sky is clearing already, Marco notices. Whatever the storm had brought (and there is no doubt in Marco's mind that the storm did bring something to this world), it was here. It was now Marco's duty to see what this thing was. If it was harmful, he'd be able to protect his people. His power bubbles through his body as he enters the temple, red beads clunking together as he moves quickly to the lift.
When he reaches the temple base, Marco is surprised by what he sees. The base is an open space that overlooks the entire city, and serves as a meeting point for Whitebeard and Marco before they enter the actual temple space. They are the only two who have the power to enter the temple, which is why Marco is surprised to see the portal they use – a circle in the centre of the open space – lit up, as if they were about to enter.
What is more surprising is the three forms laying near the portal, and Marco uses his power to close the temple doors, hurrying over to the person. The person looks to be a young male, accompanied by two fox-like creatures. He doesn't appear to be hurt, though Marco wonders how someone can survive such a severe lightning strike, but does appear to be unconscious.
"Did he summon the storm?" a deep voice behind Marco says, and he shakes his head at Whitebeard.
"He's not of our world," Marco says with confidence, looking up as Whitebeard towers over him, thoughtful look on his face. "The storm was our world's way of protecting itself against outsiders."
Whitebeard crouched down, a hand reaching for the pale blue fox-creature at the man's side. It jumped up suddenly, mouth opening impossibly widely and snapping at Whitebeard. It seemed electrified, body emitting a strange light, some odd power letting it move through air as if it was walking on land.
"Get back!" it barks, voice electrified and teeth snapping. Its red companion leaps up too, both creatures hovering over the man protectively. Whitebeard lowers his hand and takes a slow step back.
The creatures turn to him, beady eyes narrowing before the red one snorts, more interested in trying to wake the man instead of chasing Marco away. Marco looks at Whitebeard, who simply tilts his head and looks at Marco with the wisdom of many decades.
"He'll stay with you," Whitebeard says, voice carrying a note of finality, and Marco feels as if he's a child again. He looks up at Whitebeard, hundreds of reasons on his lips for why this man staying with him would be a bad idea, but Marco can see it will be useless.
"He'll stay with me," Marco agrees, looking down as the red creature steps close, sniffing at him curiously. It doesn't seem to mean any harm, and the blue one joins in soon, both of them sniffing at Marco and clambering around him.
That seems to be all Whitebeard needs, for he turns to leave. He no doubt has work to do in the labs, so Marco lets him go, a larger issue to deal with right in front of him. Whoever this man is, he's someone who needs to be kept under a watchful gaze, and Marco has no intention of letting this man loose into his world if he could harm people.
The man groans suddenly, pushing himself up off of the floor slowly and into a sitting position. Instantly, the creatures flock to his side, whizzing around the man, checking every inch of him to make sure he is okay.
Ugh," he groans, and the creatures are making a ridiculous noise of joy. "Will you two shut it?"
He doesn't look like much of a threat, Marco decides, and he frowns, trying to place the man. He seems familiar, though there is no way Marco has met him before, and he simply waits for the man to notice him.
"Oh," the man says, eyes widening when he catches Marco's gaze. He stands quickly, brushing his pets (or whatever they are) away and bowing smartly. "Sorry to have caused all that trouble."
Marco is a little taken aback, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, the man takes it upon himself to continue the conversation.
"I'm Ace," he says, standing up straight, hands falling to his sides to bump his pets on the head. "These are my familiars, Sabo and Luffy."
As their names are spoken, each of the creatures turn into teenagers, beaming brightly. It isn't what Marco is expecting, but he supposes he needs to get used to strange things with this man around.
"My name is Marco," he replies slowly. "I've been assigned to watch you."
Ace raises an eyebrow as the dark haired familiar pokes his tongue out at Marco. The blond one watches on, half-hidden behind Ace's shoulder.
"Can you cook?" Ace asks, and he seems to be incredibly eager to hear the answer. Marco thinks on it for a moment, shrugging.
"Well enough I guess," he says, and the dark haired familiar runs over to him, fingers clawing at Marco's damp top.
"Do you have meat?" he asks, eyes sparkling and fingers digging into Marco's arm. "I like meat. I love meat. Meat is my best friend."
"Luffy!" the blond familiar hisses, taking a step forward and squaring his shoulders. "Get here now!"
Ace laughs, and Marco gets the sense that this happens all the time. Luffy lets go of his arm and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns back to the other two. It's clear none of them see Marco as a threat, and he suspects there's much more to Luffy than his self-proclaimed love of meat.
"You don't seem too bothered by the fact a complete stranger is saying they'll take you home," Marco couldn't help but say. He watches Ace carefully, and when he speaks, he seems sincere.
"We expected we'd have to book into a hotel or something. Or even worse, camp out. If you're going to try something shady, then we can hold our own." Ace smiles, his familiars flickering into their beast shape for a split second, grinning. It's a warning, Marco knows, and he can feel his power curl in his belly, simmering for the moment it needs to be let loose.
He takes a deep breath. No. Marco needs to watch Ace, find out how he came here and find out whether he can use whatever power Ace did to get back to his home world.
"But I can tell you're a decent guy," Ace adds, and his familiars calm. "I was always taught to be polite, and as we pretty much crash landed here, we need to pay back for the mess we made."
Ace looks around, as if suddenly realising the temple is in better shape than he remembers. He frowns, and Marco smiles to himself.
"This world has a few secrets," he says, turning his back on Ace and walking towards the elevator. He wants to go home, fall into bed and not think about the fact he's picked up three unwanted house guests.
Thankfully, Ace follows him, his familiars shooting forward in their creature forms, Luffy circling Marco, questions flowing out of his mouth as the other one took to scouting around. Ace took his place at Marco's side when they entered the elevator, smiling simply as if he had gotten everything he'd ever wanted.
When they exited the shrine, Marco suddenly remembered that his moped was a while away, hopefully fixed, at the side of the road. He sighed, glancing at Ace.
"It won't be too far to walk," he said, and it wasn't really. It would be quicker with his moped of course, but that option wasn't exactly valid at the moment.
"So what do you do?" Ace asked, sloshing through puddles, looking up at the stars as he spoke. His familiars were running wild in the fields next to the road, happy to leave Ace with Marco.
"What do I do?" Marco repeated, wondering where to start. "I suppose I help run this world."
Ace nods his head, humming to himself.
"So like a politician then?" he says, and Marco narrows his eyes.
"Not really," he says, and Ace hums again. "More like a god." Marco doesn't like calling himself a god, but there is no other title that fits enough. A king would be too simple, and what king has the powers Marco does? No. He is no politician or king. He might not be the Holy God, but he is a god of sorts.
"Oh good," Ace says, voice bright and bubbly, but he doesn't elaborate. That's okay, though, and Marco looks ahead, spotting a familiar shape by the side of the road, propped up as if it had never been broken.
"I don't have a spare helmet," Marco says when they reach his moped. "You'll have to borrow mine. Can you get them to float with us?"
Luffy and the other one look slightly affronted that they wouldn't be riding pillion, but floated upwards regardless. Maybe he could take them out tomorrow, just to be fair. He'll have to shift them in around work… Marco discards that thought. Whitebeard probably expects him to have the day off, and if he has to entertain his new guests then so be it. And that thought doesn't fill Marco with warmth, not at all. He forces a scowl, though there's no heat in it, and tries to ignore the possibility that he might like this opportunity that has presented itself to him. It's been so long since he's had friends, maybe it won't be so bad.
"I have meat at home," he mutters, passing Ace his helmet as Luffy floated by, head dipped. The words instantly perk him up, and he circles the moped happily.
"Ace! Sabo!" he says, laughing. "Meat!"
Marco can't help but smile as the three of them burst into laughter. It is the laugh of individuals who have been through thick and thin with each other and love each other immensely. Marco can feel their happiness as they speed through the night (granted 'speed' is probably being a little generous to his moped) back to his home.
Thatch is waiting for them when Marco opens the door. The dog bursts out, wagging his tail as he inspects Ace and the mysterious creatures. Marco leaves them to it, moving inside to turn on the heating and get some food on. Oh, and he has to set up the spare room, then make sure he has enough towels and such in case they want to shower right now and…
Marco doesn't like having guests too much, particularly when they're staying longer than a few hours. He also has a feeling this lot will be a bit of a handful, and his trail of thought is proved pretty accurate as Thatch comes tearing in, Luffy and Sabo giggling on his heels, chasing each other around the house.
It's inevitable that something gets broken, and Marco watches Ace as he steps inside, face morphing into something horrified as Luffy, Sabo and Thatch all slide into one of the cabinets, smashing some of the small trinkets Marco had on top and his photos.
"What are you doing?" Ace hisses, looking at Marco with wide eyes. "I am so, so sorry," he hurries out, and Marco shrugs.
"I told you the world has a few secrets. Watch the cabinet." He turns away to chop vegetables and check how much meat he has, but Marco still hears the sharp intake of breath Ace makes. He is definitely not of their world then, not with that reaction, and Marco takes a quick look, eyes widening as he sees how still Ace is, how taken with the magic of this world.
"It heals itself," Ace whispers, and Marco clears his throat, forcing himself to tend to his vegetables.
"It stopped when you broke into this world," Marco says quietly, and Ace turns to him, eyes still wide and mind captivated by the glass melting flawlessly and trinkets fixing themselves back together. Luffy, Sabo and Thatch have vanished, probably to play in the garden, and Marco is suddenly aware of how close Ace has become.
"I came here to look for something," Ace says, and there is something wild in his voice. He smiles, stepping closer to Marco, playing with the plastic wrap over the meat. "I've been searching for ages, actually. I never thought I'd make it to this world, that this world actually exists!"
Marco sets a large pot on to boil, dumping the vegetables in the broth. He takes the meat from under Ace's fingertips, slicing into the flesh, for once not pondering how useless the knife is to him. Marco waits instead, counting the breaths Ace takes, ignoring the hissing of their food.
"This is the thirteenth world you know," Ace says softly, and Marco nods. He remembers looking at Whitebeard and Izo's research, how twelve different universes surrounded their own. Travel between them is impossible though, and Marco should know. He feels as though he's tried everything to get back to his birth world.
"It's impossible to get to this world, but we made it." There is something triumphant in Ace's voice, and it's no wonder. Ace really did achieve the impossible, and Marco is itching to ask how.
"I'm not entirely sure how," Ace admits, looking down. Marco stirs the pot, sliding in the meat, and sets water to boil too. He'll sit Ace down and question him, obtain every bit of information he can. That was why Whitebeard had given Ace to him, wasn't it?
"I can show you part of how we came here though," Ace continues, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling a tiny object out. It looks like a hammer, and Marco feels a strange energy surrounding them. The hammer grows, suddenly, and Marco's power bubbles inside of him, ruby beads slipping over his hand in preparation to be used.
"This is Aratama," Ace says, setting the hammer on the ground. It's transparent, inside the hammerhead balls of what look like pure energy sparking. A line of sapphire beads hang from the handle and Marco can tell it's a powerful weapon. A divine weapon even.
"We managed to break into this world using it," Ace confirms, and Marco sets about filling a pot of tea, silent until he is sitting down with Ace in the other room. As he'd suspected, Luffy, Sabo and Thatch are in the garden, and their laughter filters in through the closed doors.
"Why?" Marco asks over steaming tea. It's a simple question, but it has so many meanings. Marco wants to know everything, but that is asking too much of a complete stranger.
Ace doesn't feel like too much of a stranger though. Marco feels comfortable around him, as if they've known each other for years. He shifts in his seat, looking down at his tea.
"I'm looking for my family," Ace says, turning his head to watch Luffy and Sabo. "The rest of my family," He clarifies. There is more, Marco can feel it in the presence of the huge hammer and the way Ace's mouth is still slightly opened.
"I'm also looking for a god, and a way back home." Ace turns to Marco with his wild smile, eyebrows raised. "How do you find a god?"
Marco doesn't know. He aches for Ace's goals, for they are so similar to his own. He too is looking for a god, for a man, and a way back home. Their paths are so very different though, for there is no hatred in Ace's goals. While Marco resents the god he is looking for, Ace feels nothing of the sort.
"It depends what god you're looking for," he says instead, opening his arms wide with a lopsided smile. Ace rolls his eyes in food nature, fingers wrapping around his cup.
"You're not the god I'm looking for," he mutters, smiling. Marco figures he must be after Whitebeard then, for if there was any other god to be found, Ace would surely have found them in the other worlds by now.
"I can help you," Marco says, the words spilling from his lips. He can hear the pot in the kitchen overflowing, liquid hissing as it hits hot metal, but he doesn't care. No doubt the smell will bring Luffy in soon and he'll serve it before the flavours have soaked in, so who cares about a little liquid loss.
"If you take me with you when you return to your world," Marco adds quickly, looking Ace dead in the eye. His power shifts inside of him as the hammer beside Ace seems to hum, and Ace's look grows serious.
"Okay," he says slowly, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip, eyes never leaving Marco's. "You have to help me find them though."
Marco nods, and he can hear the door going, the trio outside clambering in the house as the smell of food drifts out to them. A bargain has been made, and Marco feels hope well in his chest for the first time in a long, long while. Ace still has a lot to tell him, but Marco knows that this path will lead him somewhere.
He can only hope Ace doesn't want to harm Whitebeard. Going back to his birth world might be Marco's goal, but Whitebeard means more than any world to him, and not even Ace's help is worth Whitebeard's life.
Marco sighs and stands, setting about serving dinner. He has the feeling that the next few weeks will be long and difficult, but there is something in him that is excited to see what will happen.