The boy of fire couldn't stop the tears that were falling from his eyes. Whether they for falling because the smoke was burning his eyes, or just the sorrow, he couldn't tell anymore. He sobbed until his chest hurt, until it felt as though he couldn't breathe anymore. He thought briefly that he might drown in his own tears. All the better then; he thought. All he wanted to do was to run into the flames and cling to the body of the man he loved, but told not. If only the flames could take him to where that man was now, but, the man was now somewhere he could not follow.

A large hand came to rest on his shoulders and back. He glanced back at the man they all referred to as 'Oyaji', but quickly shifted his gaze away as he couldn't meet the man's eyes. He knew were not for him, they'd all not be standing in front of a funeral pyre. Their eyes wouldn't sting from smoke and sadness, and they wouldn't be saying goodbye to someone they cherished. If he could go back and have never met the Whitebeard Pirates, he would. He would've agreed to his grandfather's outrageous wish for him to become a marine if it would have prevented this. He would be alone and miserable, but he'd do it to save the other man's life.

He knew that said man would not approve of such thoughts. No, if said man were alive, he'd scold him for such thoughts. He'd chide and badger and tease him until the boy couldn't help but break a smile. It was that man's way after all. He'd bear any burden to insure his family was happy. Perhaps, that was the reason he could not be here now. But he knew that it was more than that.

The reason that man was not here was purely because of his love for him. Yes, the man had told the boy often of his affections. And while he had accepted those affections, he'd yet to return them in words. The man had said those sweet words to the boy time after time. When he woke, when they were about to sleep, when either of them was leaving and returning from a mission, when they kissed or finished making love; every time those words were spoken to him. But, he'd yet to return them. Every time the boy of fire would fail to say those words the man would simply chuckle with soft eyes. He would then kiss the boy on the forehead. It seemed not to bother him.

But now as boy of fire watched the flames consume that man's body, he gave pause to remember his inability to say those three simple words. They were the three words that man had deserved to hear the most. Their meaning rang true, but he had failed to vocalize them. It had become his biggest regret, next to being the cause of the man's untimely demise.

It was the boy, who had been supposed to die. It was his execution, but instead he'd lived. In this lives were exchanged. One man, who was meant to live, died. Two men, whom were meant to die, lived. Now the only thing the two men could do was stare into the morbid flames. To one, the man was a son. To the other, the man was a lover. To both, only fire could send off a phoenix in a fitting way.

…

The man had seen it; how the admiral's attack would hurt the elder brother instead of the younger though it wasn't intended to. He realized Ace would move to save his younger sibling, even the admiral hadn't. And so he moved as well, because the fire boy was his.

While the boy had not said it; the man knew. He knew it with every blush that crossed the boy's freckled face, by the moans that resembled his name, by every night they'd spent entangled in each other. And he knew that he would not want to live without the boy. So he moved.

Though he could fly again, thanks to the Wax-man he'd just met, he worried that he wouldn't make it in time. He rushed to the boy's side as the admiral begun to level his attack. With every ounce of strength left untouched by the battle, he threw the two siblings out of the way of the fetal attack. The siblings roughly collided with the earth some distance away. The man felt a burning pain in his side where he'd taken the attack meant for his beloved. He could smell his own flesh burn and heard the boy call his name. His powers were too over-used to protect him completely.

He glanced back swiftly to see his beloved's eyes widened with horror as he tried to return to his side with his brother in toe. He had to stop them. The man knew that, even with his devil's fruit abilities, he could not protect the two younger boys. If they returned it would be highly probable for one if not both to get hurt or die. That was something he could not permit.

"No!" He yelled back at his beloved. "Retreat now; get your brother and yourself to safety. If we're going to win this war then the both of you have to get to safety."

"But I don't want to leave you." The boy argued.

Then the man smiled and lied, "I'll follow you, just go." The boy hesitates and he adds. "I promise."

The boy hesitates once more and then bites his lip. The boy slowly nods, grabs his younger brother's hand, and runs toward safety. The boy's heart sunk with uneasiness with every step he took away from his lover. But that man smiled knowing his beloved would walk away from this battle with his life.

"You'll die here today, Phoenix." The admiral made of magma stated.

"We'll see about that, yoi." The man groaned as breathing became difficult with one of his lungs damaged by magma.

The man knew he would have to fight with his devil's fruit and his busoshoku haki if he had any chance of defeating the magma admiral. Yet, this was easier said than done, as his powers were already waning and couldn't even heal the damage he'd already taken. The phoenix combined both his haki and his devil's fruit powers as the magma admiral started attacking again.

The man had been on many battlefields and fought many battles and wars for his captain and father, but it was obvious that the admiral was not lacking in experience either. While both men had wounds, the phoenix was definitely the worse off of the two even though the admiral had taken a few hits from the strongest man alive. The phoenix man knew that he was dying that day, so what was one more life to add to the death count? He could barely breathe with the injury inflicted on one of his lungs, but even as his vision was blurring, he knew what had to be done.

He saw that the admiral was going to attack on his already injured side, but he didn't block. No, this wasn't the time for self-preservation. What good is that to a dying man anyway? Instead he hardens his side with his haki and takes the attack; although he takes some damage it creates an opening. The admiral laughs but he ignores it, it will be the last laugh the admiral has, so let him have it. Instead the man hardens his hand and arm up to his elbow. He reaches forward at great speed with fingers sharpened like claws. The admiral is to distracted attack his open side to realize what the man is doing before it's too late.

The man's hand and arm are embedded into the admiral's flesh, which he thought to be magma, but the haki allowed the man to wrap his hand around the admiral's still beating heart. In a split second the admiral realized what the man had done, but as that second ticked to completion the man ripped the admiral's magma heart straight out of his body and crushed it in his hand. Even a man made out of magma cannot live without his heart.

Blood gushed onto the man as the heart exploded. The admiral stared dumbly at his own destroyed heart and the man who had killed him. In a last effort to kill the man that killed him he aimed a last attack at the man, but his failing body was too week. The man stepped backwards with a blank and emotionless expression without a hint of remorse. He felt no empathy for the man he'd just killed not even a modicum. The admiral had tried to kill the boy he loved, so he killed the admiral. What more could be said? The man lets the broken heart slide from his grasp and fall to the ground beside him as the admiral crumpled and died before him.

The phoenix took a few steps backwards again and held his injured side. He coughed up blood. It was ironic that it was the same color as the admiral's. The marines shout at the death of their admiral. The man known as the phoenix can't hear them though. He vision may be unfocused, but the blood rushes to his head as he can make out a familiar figure on the battlefield.

It was the figure of the man that the boy had been tracking. It was the figure of the traitor who had killed a crewmember and therefore killed a brother. It was the figure of a man surrounded in darkness and he had a gun pointed at the phoenix's father. The man of darkness had others with him all with guns pointed at the same place; the man many called 'Oyaji'.

The phoenix nearly roars with rage. He doesn't hear the man called 'Oyaji' tell him to stay away, not over the sound of his anger. His body was past its limit, but the phoenix pushed it farther. Just one more person to kill, just one more person to protect, then he could rest. The man of darkness needed to die or the phoenix's beloved, the boy of fire, would never be free. The man disappeared into the phoenix as he flew past the man he called father and towards the man of darkness as the guns were fired.

The phoenix could no longer heal. His powers were all used up in the fights beforehand. Yet, what does a dying man care about a few more holes in his body? The bullets do not deter the phoenix from his course and the man of darkness barely has time to start to deploy his darkness before the phoenix is in front of him, a man again.

The man of darkness is not experienced; not like the phoenix, not even like the admiral that now lays dead. The man of darkness hasn't even turned into his element. No haki is needed for the phoenix to pierce this man's heart and no haki is used. The man of darkness gasps and shakily points his gun at the phoenix's head. He pulls the trigger. No bullet flies, he's out of them. The man of darkness falls before the phoenix with curses. Not one bullet made it to the phoenix's father.

The phoenix can't celebrate however, as a companion of the fallen traitor attacks. The phoenix cannot counter and he cannot dodge. His body is drained completely not even his bright blue flames arise to protect him. The attack is strong and it sends the barely standing phoenix flying until he collides with a wall of rock created when his father summoned an earthquake earlier. The phoenix's remaining breath is knocked out of his body and he falls to the ground bleeding and barely breathing as his vision darkens considerably as spots of black start to cloud his sky blue eyes.

The man can't make it out but he can feel the earth shake as his father yells. The earth swallows the traitor's companions as well as the traitor's body. There's a reason why the phoenix's father is known as the strongest man alive. The phoenix's eyes are almost closed as his father makes his way over to him. If he were completely cognizant he might have heard his beloved scream his name from the relative safety of their ship.

The man known as 'Oyaji' to many takes his strongest son's still breathing but broken body into his arms. The father of many knows not what to do. He never expected his strongest son, the one he thought would outlive him for sure, to be dying within his grasp. No child should die before their parent, no matter if they are bonded by blood or not.

"Oyaji," the phoenix garbles through his own blood, "I'm sorry."

The father knows why his son is apologizing. The phoenix always obeyed his every order, whether it was an order from a captain or a father. The phoenix always had known that he was expected to take care of the family when his father died, neither of them had planned for the opposite. Now the phoenix lay dying and he had one thing he still needed to ask of his father.

"Live," the son pleaded, "please live a little longer. He still needs someone, he still needs you." A few tears leak from the son's slowly closing eyes as he speaks. "Please live a little longer, protect him a little longer, because I can't anymore." The son grips a couple of his father's fingers as he tries to anchor himself to life so he can finish speaking. "I'm sorry I disappointed you, Oyaji. I'm sorry to burden you even more, but I love him." The son confessed. "Please keep him safe just a little longer."

The man called 'Oyaji' cannot say much in return but he nods solemnly as even he starts to cry. He can see the light slipping from his son's eyes, the son that had been with him for so long now being taken from him by the cold touch of death. He can feel his son's grip becoming weaker and he sees his son's eyes slipping closed. He finds the strength to speak.

"I promise, Marco, I'll protect him for you and I will not die today. I won't allow my son to die in vain."

There's the tiniest touch of a smile in the phoenix's relaxing face. His lips twitch upwards and there's a slight spark in his eyes right before his eyes close. His body goes limp in his father's hands and his last breath is a sigh that leaves his lips.

The strongest man alive lowers his strongest son's body back to the ground. He can hear faintly the wails and screams of his newest son in the distance. The strongest man alive grits his teeth as fury paints his vision red. He's enraged and the ground shakes with the force of his powers and the force of his will as he starts destroying the people who took his son from him. He doesn't see the other admiral who has evaded those fighting him and prepared to attack the vessel that his newest son was escaping on.

Yet, he hears a voice. Everyone hears this voice as the war seems almost to stop to hear a young pink haired boy scream and plead for an end to the fighting. Have we not lost enough? Has not enough blood been shed? An admiral and a phoenix are dead.

The strongest man alive breathes and his head starts to clear. He looks down at his dead son, who almost seems peaceful in death despite his many wounds. They had lost much. Would they not only lose more if they continued? It needed to end the young pink haired boy was correct. Yet, the admiral listens to none of those words.

The admiral attacks the young marine boy with the pink hair. Dust flies, but no blood is spilled. A man with red hair and of a similar standing to the strongest man saved the young boy. The marines look as if they're about to run scared. Maybe they stood a chance against the weakened crew of the strongest man alive but they couldn't face him and the red haired man. No, even the marines aren't so daft as to believe they would even stand a chance.

The fight ends. The war is over and all that remained were the injured and the dead. Now was the time to gather up the beloved dead and prepare to commit the fallen back to the earth. The strongest man alive remains by his dead son's side as everyone moves to collect their dead. The man with red hair and scars on his face approaches him.

The red haired man doesn't expect what he sees; the father standing over his son. The red haired man's eyes go wide and then he looks away with a complicated expression of sorrow. No this wasn't what he expected, not the phoenix dead on the ground. The red haired man suddenly felt as he arrived too late.

"I always envied you for having someone like him," the red haired man whispers a strange form of condolence.

On the ship that had now stopped in its escape the boy of fire is inconsolable. His brother is in critical condition in the care of a strange surgeon and he continues to wail for the one he lost. The man had promised to follow, but the boy had known he didn't mean it. He knew but he'd run anyway. He was sure he knew, he told himself he had over and over as a form of blame, but was it true? It would be hours before his crying would cease as he would eventually exhaust himself. His fellow crewmates would try to console him even as tears of their own stained their cheeks. It was for naught until sleep claimed him.

…

Before they started the pyre every member of the phoenix's family placed a rose on his body. Most were stained blue as a tribute to his flames; flames that failed to protect him. Two were of a different hue, however. The rose his father placed was white and the boy he loved was given an orange rose to place. The others had said it was the phoenix could tell which one was from him.

…

Now the fire had burned out and the others had left some time ago. They left the boy to mourn alone as the pyre started to die out. The flames were gone and so was the phoenix. The boy still cried, even he wondered when his tears would dry up. The others said it wasn't his fault, but it was wasn't it? He was certain. All that was left was ash, just ash and tears. It was fitting. He's swallowed by sorrow, drowning in grief.

He doesn't hear the debris shifting. When he hears the footsteps he thinks someone from the ship came to convince him to go back. He's not ready. He may never be ready. Curled in on himself he doesn't notice a figure stop before him. He notices nothing until he hears a familiar but scratchy voice.

"Ace,"

The boy's head snaps up at the sound of his name and the sound of that voice.

"Marco," The boy nearly whimpers in recognition.