Disclaimer:
One Piece Eiichiro Oda, Original characters and non-cannon plot PlayfulxPurple.
Primary Characters:
Portgas D. Ace and Original character, Ayane Maresato
Secondary Characters:
Phoenix Marco, Thatch, and many more. Original characters, Carna Livilla, Siron Elva, and Mardoll Eira.
Warning(s):
Possible spoilers.
PxP notes: Burn With Me is a One-shot. It doesn't follow the original plot for Primrose Path, but it does contain some spoilers. Please read the ending notes for more details.
This is absolutely absurd, I think to myself. I am not at all amused. It figures the crew would trick me into coming with them. However, to stoop so low as to talk the ship's medic, Mardoll Eira into making me think this would benefit me, was utterly rude.
Eira, as dedicated to her job as one would expect, would never allow me to wither away in the confines of the pirate ship. She sent me on this walk to help me, despite knowing how much I hate tourist hotspots. I don't like this one bit, but she insisted I come along to gather supplies. I agreed to do so, wanting to take a short walk to clear my head.
I have to admit, the island of Bellis Point is like no island I have ever seen. It is beautiful. Bright and bold colors accent everything, from tree to market stall, and I am sure I have never seen such exotic flowers like the type that are blooming around the town. They appear as if by some rarity, they are reflected to mock the sunset.
I stop briefly to pick one up and place it behind my ear. A few of the tourists have done so as well, I note, so I imagine it will be okay to have just one. My walk continues after. I am due to meet up with my commander very soon. He came to the island with another to collect supplies, so I imagine they are done by now. It's getting late, and I am ready to leave.
It's terribly hot out today. I'm not a fan of the sun – I never have been. I shade my eyes with my hand, groaning in frustration. I already have my hair pulled into a messy bun, but I feel like I am going to melt into the cobblestone beneath my feet. Thankfully, the restaurant for our rendezvous comes into view; a red brick building splashed in colors and tacky decorations. I almost skip to the entrance in glee, if not for the fact I am exhausted from the walk. I believe Ace told me the place is call the Spice Bun, but I am not exactly sure.
I don't even look at the sign as I enter. All I want is a drink.
The inside of the building is not as dismaying as it looks from the outside, but I can tell that the locals help keep the place from going into debt. It is quiet, with very few people inside, and smells of curry. I curl my nose in disgust, flicking my eyes around the expanse of the room. It does not take me long to find Ace and my boss amongst the rolls of booths against the back wall. Marco is the first to notice me.
"Ayane," he calls. He waves me over.
I take the seat in front of Ace and give the waitress my order – a glass of water. I am happy to see that they at least went shopping for some supplies; though not as much as expected.
I force a smile. "Finished with the list?"
"Not entirely," Marco admits. "We have a few more stalls to hit up, before we return to the ship." It is upsetting to hear this. I have had about enough of this trip. I decide to allow the two a chance to eat, before I rush them along to the bazar.
I sip on my water until then. Not much is said to me, but the two speak about the night festival. Marco seems interested in it as he explains it to Ace. I'm not surprised he wants to see it. I don't really care for it – music and fireworks. The tourists have been chattering nonstop about it all day. I tap my foot in annoyance, hoping for them to hurry. I also recall hearing a local mention how the bazar doesn't stay open through the night during festival season. I don't really want to stay here longer than I have to.
"Relax a little, Ayane. You looked annoyed," Marco says to me, pulling me from my thoughts.
"I am a little," I admit. "I just want to go back to the ship before I am tempted to spend my money. Everything here is so overpriced."
Marco laughs, "That sounds like you, yoi. Too cheap to enjoy yourself."
That is not the reason. I have earned my beli. I work for it every chance I get. Spending it on something so pointless as a souvenir would be a waste. Besides, I need this beli. Without it, I can't put my curiosity to rest.
I huff and sit back in the booth, waiting until they finish. Something Ace says quickly catches my attention.
"It's getting late," he points out.
I've noticed it as well. The bar is lit with makeshift candles as opposed to sunlight. I imagine it's around evening time, and the sky is bright with shades of pink and orange. The thought leads me to wonder; what will Marco have us do now that we wasted most of the trip?
As if he's read my mind, Marco scratches his head and sighs. "I suppose we're left with the option of waiting till morning. The markets will be closing soon, and we don't have much time to collect everything Thatch needed for the kitchen," he states. "There's not much else to do."
I don't believe this. He has certainly gone daffy if he thinks I am going to accept such an order.
"Commander please, I'm begging you to reconsider. We still have time to get a few things. We can certainly make do with what we have until the next island. We shouldn't stay the night if it's not inevitable," I explain.
"Why are you so eager to return, Ayane?"
"It's the first time you've been off the ship in months," Ace adds.
My blood boils. "I just don't see the need to stay here any longer. It is a waste of time and beli."
I can't believe it's so hard for them to understand that I can't afford to waste my half of the money. I don't just cooperate with them because I want to. I do so to pay off my debt. It is the only motive that has kept me hopeful through this bargain. Even so, Ace has a point. I've not been off the ship in quite a while, and I'm rather desperate to get away from these pirates every once in a while. Eira would be let down if I didn't try to relax even just a little.
"I may take another short walk around the isle, but after that, I am gathering the supplies and heading back to the ship," I add.
"Suite yourself," Ace states with a shrug.
I roll my eyes. I could surely go without listening to his opinion. He makes me so mad. It's like he wants to see me suffer through this. If I take his advice and allow my stepfather to settle the dept, I will be stuck with them for the rest of my life.
"I didn't ask for your input," I snap.
"Maybe you should calm down," Ace suggests. Just because he is a commander doesn't mean he can boss me around.
I slam my hands down on the table, nearly knocking my glass off. "I don't take orders from you."
My outburst attracts the attention of the remaining customers. They watch quietly as I stare down Ace, but he acts like he doesn't notice and continues to eat. For some reason this aggravates me greatly.
"Do not ignore me," I hiss.
Marco stands up and grabs my arm. "Come on now, chill out. You're making a scene."
"I'm making a scene? What about Ace?'
"He's not really done anything," he argues.
Of course he would say that. He agrees with Ace every time we have a dispute. It's annoying. I slam my hands against the table once more in frustration.
"This is why I hate you," I snap. My eyes burn with tears.
Ace says nothing. His eyes narrow, and he sets down his fork. He stands up, then quickly leaves. I realize what I've said. Do I hate him? No, I don't. It was merely a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean it. I must have really hurt him.
I bite my lip; maybe I took it a little too far.
I can see now why Marco brought us to this particular island. The market place venues are boundless. They stretch along the boardwalk in clusters, selling such things as imported spice and countless assortments of meat – some that not even I have seen before. I stand with my back against the wooden railing, and watch as people gather in long lines to inspect the goods. The markets are scheduled to close here very soon. I am left to wonder just how I had expected to carry all of the supplies back to the ship on my own.
It would be impossible, considering that I am only one person, and not at all equally as strong as Marco and Ace, I admit to myself.
However, I could just as easily make several trips, but by the time I make it from the south dock across the island to here again, I believe the kiosks will all be closed for the night. It's obvious that Marco tried to delay us for just this reason, but I didn't want to listen. Leave it to me to disagree with him, and turn out looking like an idiot.
I sigh in annoyance. There is no alternative to this situation other than to abandon my hopes of leaving this island before night fall. However, I will be returning at first light, but for now, I decide to check out the beach.
The coastline is just beyond the boardwalk. Miles of pure, white sand spreads far into the distance. I can distinctly hear the sound of music being played, urging me closer. The boards of the narrow stairway that spill out onto the beach groan as I step down them. I abandon my shoes along the way, and walk to the water's edge. It's a shame I didn't bring a swim suit. I imagine the water would feel nice against my heated skin, but I suppose getting my feet wet will just have to do.
I can't imagine how devil fruit users get use to not being able to feel the cool spray of the sea. I can remember all the times that I would dip my hands into the waves as Ace soared the skimmer through the water during our odd jobs for Whitebeard. I would laugh, and he would just simply smile. My heart begins to feel heavy. It's ironic, given the situation I put myself in. Just a few hours ago I had spoken ill of him, but here I am, sobbing to myself. I can honestly say I miss him.
My bottom lips quivers faintly as tears begin to sting my eyes. I shouldn't care about Ace like this, but something inside of me feels empty without him around. This feeling alone makes me sick to my stomach. I sit far from the water's edge, suddenly having no desire to push my way into the waves. Will this regret ever go away?
"Excuse me," calls a voice.
I lift my head and see a girl in jean short directly in front of me. She appears to be young; no older than 11, holding a pail and shovel in her hands. I force a smile, trusting my resolve to hold out just a little longer. I don't want to cry my eyes out in front of a stranger.
"Hello," I say politely.
"Are you okay?"
I frown; of course I'm not. "I'm just fine," I lie. "Thank you for asking."
She narrows her golden eyes, and sits across from me. "I'm Starling," she says with a smile.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ayane," I tell her.
"Now that we know each other by names, you can tell me what has you so upset," she says to my surprise, tossing one small braid over her shoulder.
My eyes widen at her statement. She's a very persistent child I see. I'm not certain if I should continue to lie to her or not. It's obvious she knows better. "There's no fooling you, is there?"
Starling shakes her head and laughs.
I sigh, chewing at the corner of my jaw. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell her – she did after all go through the trouble of asking. By what method to explain it, however, is something that baffles me.
"I made a little mistake and hurt someone's feelings," I try to explain.
"That wasn't very nice of you," she scolds me.
"No it wasn't," I agree.
I'm in no mood to go into details about it. The bottom line is, I upset my commander. There is really no blameless way to say it; all fingers are aimed in my direction.
Starling suddenly snaps her fingers; a notion that concerns me until she turns in my direction, resting on slender legs, and begins packing sand into her pail.
"We can build a sandcastle," she states. "That always makes me feel better."
I doubt it will help any, but I don't have the audacity to tell her no. All I can do is sit across from her and watch, listing as she hums softly to herself with a tune I've never before heard. It sounds almost pleasant, more or so uplifting to hear.
"What is it that you are humming?"
"Just a melody the musicians play at the opening ceremony each year," she answers quietly. "I assume you didn't hear it since you're asking me about it, but it's more or less the annual theme of Bellis Point. At midnight, just before the festival comes to an end, all of the natives come together, and sing it. There are even dancers and fireworks that light up the sky."
I laugh as she prattles on. I imagine this is the same song and dance Marco mentioned back at the restaurant. Ace seemed so intent on seeing it.
"You live on the island; I assume?"
"Yes, but on a less crowded part of the island. My mommy and daddy own a market stall on the beach. We take a trail near the big tower on the hill just to see the festival each year," she clarifies.
That would explain the tan skin and unusual whitish hair she has. I noticed most of the natives of Bellis Point have those features. It's a trait that is uncommon on the island where I am from. Nearly everyone is light-skinned despite the island being in spring all year round.
I miss it; home that is. I've not been back in years, but the scent of flowers and fresh linen will never fade from my memory.
"Miss Ayane, you should build the first tower," I hear Starling say, bringing me back to reality.
I'm quick to refuse, but she moves the bucket closer until I accept it. I stare at it for a second in uncertainty, then glance at the young girl to my left. She smiles and urges me on with a wave of her hand.
I sigh in defeat. I have never even built a sandcastle before. Most of my childhood was spent on the deck of the First Rose; a marine battle ship operated by my stepfather. Even when the crew took to land, I was not allowed to sightsee. I stuck close to the ship with Ansel and Kirino until it was time to return to the sea.
Thankfully, the construction seems simple enough.
I've heard of children building them with ease. I assume it can't be anything as calculating as dart throwing, or as stressing as learning gymnastics.
I take a deep breath and turn the bucket upside down, but as I do, the sand comes tumbling out before I have the brim to the ground. I panic, slamming the bucket down to keep the sand from spreading, but it is too late. The castle is in ruins.
"I suppose I over did it a bit," I say with a laugh.
Starling agrees with a nod. She takes the pail back and begins to refill it once again. I certainly hope she doesn't expect me to try again. I sit in silence and wait.
"May I ask you a question?"
"If you want to," I answer with a smile.
"The person you upset, are they someone you know?"
I go pale; to think, if the one I raised my voice to hadn't of been Ace. I'm not sure I could forgive myself for such a thing as shouting at a stranger. On the other hand, I still have the commander to deal with.
"He is a shipmate of mine, so as you can see I am in a bit of dilemma," I reply.
"You should talk to him, patch things up, and say you're sorry," she suggests.
"I do not think he would listen if I were to try," I explain sadly.
I can't see Ace as the type to hold a chip on his shoulder. He's always treated me very kindly, as if I were a part of the crew. On the other hand, if he were to hate me, I would have no problem with it. I've not once expressed gratitude to him, or spoke to him as an equal since I began sailing alongside him.
I just assumed that because he and the others are pirates that they would be as I have come to expect most pirates to act; vile and incapable of reasoning with, but not Ace, or any of the Whitebeard pirates for that matter.
"Is he not your friend?"
"I suppose he is, but our relationship is a little more difficult to explain," I answer with honesty.
I'm not the slightest bit sure how to explain the situation to her, or even where to begin. To tell her the truth would incite trouble for the well renowned pirates, and to myself. The last thing I want is for the marines to show up and open fire on the isle. A jolt racks my body at this thought.
"This discussion is over," I say. "Besides, I can't imagine how any of this is of interest to you."
Starling laughs while patting the sand flat with her shovel. She makes a tower across from mine; one that puts my outrage to shame. Her eyes meet mine briefly before she moves to sit beside me.
"I don't know a lot about love, but I wasn't born yesterday," she states. "My mommy always says that when she and daddy fight, no matter how bad it may seem, or even when there are hundreds of reasons to give up, they always find just one reason to hold on."
Those words are familiar to me; they strike a nerve I can't describe. It feels like disgust, but rolls around in my head like a rock; a memory that brings me to tears.
"My mother use to say the same of her relationship with my father," I recall.
He will come back to us one day, somehow, and we must be tolerant and hope for his safe return, I remember her saying when I was a child. I did hope, but he never came back. Mom died waiting on him, and all because she assumed he loved her.
I grit my teeth. How can Starling assume the same of me?
"I assure you, I'm not in love with him," I state to clear the air. "He needs his space, and that is the only reason I'm not looking for him."
"You could apologize," she mentions again.
I sigh and dig my feet into the sand. I want to scream, to shout, but she's right; I could apologize and maybe things will go back to the way they were before I made a big scene in the restaurant.
"It's never that easy," I retort.
Starling bumps me with her shoulder, "You won't know unless you try."
A smile pulls at my lips. She's clever, I'll give her that.
Her eyes widen for a moment, then she picks something from the pocket of her shorts and holds it out for me to see. In her hand are two fan-shaped shells no bigger than a quarter, each a different color. The first is smooth with purple and white strips, and the second is a simple deep red covered in ridges.
"They're very pretty," I say.
"I know that," Starling huffs. "I want you to have them. I figure you could use them to help you patch things up with your friend."
I take them from her hand, and look them over. They appear to be just normal sea shells.
"How will these help me fix my relationship again?"
"You take one half, and give the other half to the person you care about the most," she explains. "It means that no matter how far the two of you are apart, your memory will never leave them."
Another silly notion fashioned by adults, no doubt.
I force a smile and quietly thank her, placing the shells in my pocket for safe keeping. I don't really want them; the meaning is overstated, but Kirino taught me better. I'm sure she would scold me for acting so childish.
I'm such a fool, so very much like my father – the pirate who took strongly to beliefs such as this.
I flinch as Starling grabs my wrist, her small hand warm against mine. My knuckles appear white; a reaction to me squeezing my hand into a fist. I wasn't aware of how annoyed I felt.
"Don't let this opportunity slip by while you slink to the shadows like a coward," she warns me. "You never know when you may get another chance."
My eyes grow wide. It's strange that she knows so much being as young as she appears. Her mother and father must have taught her well, or poured rubbish into her head every occasion they fought. I assume the latter; it makes more sense to me that way.
She stands to her feet, drawing back her hand to brush the sand from her clothing. I watch quietly as she gathers her bucket and pale, turning her back to me. She is leaving, I figure.
"Starling," I call out.
She turns and looks at me over her shoulder to acknowledge my plea. I have enjoyed the talk I had with her. It saddens me to see her go, but I smile despite the pain.
"Thank you," I quietly say.
She smiles and skips off toward an open food venue that I assume belongs to her parents. I place my hand over the pocket containing the shells. She was wrong about one thing; I am no coward.
I'm not exactly sure how I didn't notice them before; it was quite obvious considering how bright the lights were from the beach. At first I assumed they were normal fireflies, the way they hovered above the ground, but they did not blink. On further inspection, I found they were not fireflies but flames – lime green flames that danced into the sky.
They seemed to circle around a tower-like structure that I presume is a lighthouse. If I had to guess, I would say Ace is at the top. I sigh and hike the beach bag I bought earlier onto my arm, moving from the path toward the lighthouse. This must be the path Starling mentioned to me earlier.
As I approach it, I take notice of the narrow staircase that spirals around the structure. I thought there would be a door at the base, but there is none.
Of course there wouldn't be a door. I must be daffy to think this would be as simple as counting to ten, I think to myself with a huff.
I tighten my grip on the bag and begin my walk up the staircase. The steps are narrow but seem to support my weight, creaking faintly with each step.
If Ace can do this, so can I, I tell myself.
It's not much comfort, but the notion gives me the courage to continue forward. I step lightly until I reach the top, finding the man in question I was searching for. He sits against the lighthouse wall, arms stretched outward, glowing the same green as the imitation fireflies that dance around the tower.
"They are very pretty," I mention, leaning my back against the same sturdy wall. "I've not seen this technique before. I assume it is new?"
Ace stays quiet, focused on what he is doing. I watch eagerly, but he sighs and drops his hands; the flames quickly diminish to nothing. He leans his head back and sighs.
"There are no stars here. The sky is distorted from the lights," he mentions.
I had noticed it as well. The lights from the beach are bright, almost intolerable at night. The people native to this isle must not mind them so much.
"It is a shame they can't be seen from this height," I say, mocking his pose. "The lighthouse would be an ideal spot to view them otherwise."
"It's actually a chimney," Ace corrects me.
"That would explain why I couldn't find the door," I laugh.
Ace cracks a smile. It is brief but I notice it.
"I imagine there is a story to be told from it," I mention, moving to his side.
"If you want to hear it?"
I gesture to him a thumb's up and sit myself beside him; my skirt tucked beneath me. The truth is I don't care one way of the other about the origin of this isle. I only want for Ace to forgive me.
"You may continue," I say with a smile.
"From what I've heard, this island use to be a mining town. The coalminers would use this chimney to burn the extra coal they excavated," he explains.
"It's hard to believe they would just decide one day to stop and become a tourist hotspot," I mention. "Would there not have to be a suitable reason for doing so?"
"The government bought them out," he clarifies.
I understand it now; the location, and the size of the island. This place is perfect for a tourist attraction. I'm willing to bet it brings the government a wealthy amount of beli all season around.
"It is unfair," I utter.
"It's how the world revolves," Ace corrects me.
I grit my teeth. I know he is right, but to hear him say it annoys me. If not for the government, my hometown would have been spared from such changes. My mother would have never remarried, and I would have never been kidnapped by pirates.
I'm being selfish, that is all.
"I went ahead and rented a room for the night," I mention with a sigh. "It cost me quite a bit of beli, so I hope you don't mind sharing it with me."
Ace laughs; a sincere chuckle that makes me groan.
"What is so funny?"
"I remember you telling Marco earlier you wanted to leave the island tonight so that you wouldn't be forced to waste more beli than needed," he reminds me.
I roll my eyes, "I do want to leave. This place is a tourist trap and everything is overpriced, but Marco was so set on hanging around to see the fireworks tonight, so it is not like I have much of a choice."
"There's going to be fireworks?"
"I assumed it to be the reason why you came all the way up here," I lie.
Who am I trying to fool? Ace should know better than to believe that dreadful lie. I can't even see the beach from this height; the lights are too bright.
"I had no clue," he states with a shrug.
I frown at him; so he didn't catch on. He lifts a finger and pushes it against the bill of his hat, so to keep it from blocking his eyes. It is when I notice his cheeks are slightly flush.
"Have you been drinking?"
He nods more than once, and lifts a round bottle from his side. It reads Kill-Joy on the label and distinctly smells of rum.
"Is that any good?"
"It's a little strong, regardless of the color, but I don't think you'd like it much," he says.
"Probably not," I agree with a laugh.
I don't much like the alcohol served on the ship, so I'm almost certain I won't like the kind Ace is drinking.
"On the other hand, there is a festival taking place, and I am entitled to one or two drinks before the night is over," I add out loud.
Ace smirks at me, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
I take the bottle from his hand and drink some of it without thinking. If I had thought about it, I probably wouldn't have been brave enough to try it. It tastes like molasses settling on my tongue, and incites a gag from me that makes Ace laugh. I shoot him a playful glare and take another drink before I hand it back to him. The taste doesn't seem to get any better.
"Have you been looking for me?"
I gasp; heat rising to my face from the unexpected question. I didn't think he would come to that conclusion given his current situation. I'd be a coward if I were to back down now. I may as well tell him the truth.
"At first I was," I admit. "I felt rotten for the way I treated you earlier, but I thought if I sought after you in the state you left in, you'd just send me away."
He remains quiet, drinking from the bottle. I realize it's sudden to bring up the problem, but I don't want to mask it with small talk any longer than I have to.
"I'm over it now," he says.
"Just like that?"
"I've had a lot of time to think about it, as I'm sure you have," he explains.
I did think about it, but unlike him, I had the expert opinion of an eleven-year-old.
That reminds me, I think, remembering the shells.
I take them from my pocket, turning them in my hand. They appear to glow in the moonlight; a vibrant hue of sparkling light, almost as if I reached up and plucked the stars from the sky.
"Give me your hand," I order him.
Ace raises a brow in confusion, but extends his hand to me without a word. I cup the underneath of his hand and drop one of the shells into his palm. His skin feels so warm compared to mine, and I frown once he moves it away to inspect the item I just handed him.
"It looks like candy," he mentions.
I realize I gave him the purple and white shell as opposed to the red one.
"A little girl gave them to me as a gift," I say while showing him the other. "She told me I should give one half to a person I truly care about. It means that their memory will always be with me no matter how far we are apart."
"That's very nice, to carry something this small as a reminder of the person you love," Ace says, extending his hand to give it back.
I stop him and curl his fingers around it.
"Keep it," I say softly. "You are the closest thing I have to a friend."
"Are you sure?"
I nod, watching with a smile as he carefully places the shell in his pocket. I do the same with mine. A wave of doubt passes over me. I honestly never intended to give the shell to Ace, or keep them for that matter. I feel childish in doing so; the notion of promising the inevitable to someone like I just did.
Wasn't my father the one who gave my mother something like this? He made a promise to return to her, but he never came back. I buried her with the rope bracelet even when I wanted to toss it into the ocean, and now I made the same mistake. I hate myself for sinking so low.
"Can I ask you something?"
I glance to Ace; his eyes watching for a sign to continue. I nod to acknowledge it.
"Did you have someone you cared about before leaving your village, a boyfriend or family member you plan to go back to once you collect the money your stepfather owes to Pops?"
I raise a brow. He can't possibly assume that is the reason I wish to pay off my debt, but his face appears serious; nothing but a blank stare as he waits for me to answer. Instead I laugh, covering my mouth to confine the noise.
"I'm sorry," I say, meeting his narrowed gaze. "I don't mean to laugh but that is a silly assumption you have of me."
"Then what is the reason, Ayane?"
I compose myself the best I can and try to explain.
"My reasons for doing this are complicated. It is true that one day I wish to go home, but not just yet. There is something that I must do first," I say quietly.
"Something you must do," Ace repeats.
I nod in agreement. I want to tell him the reason, but even I am uncertain that I can accomplish it. I left Rosecliff; the island where I was born in hopes of finding my father. Now that I am in the company of pirates I have the best chance of locating him.
His face is a blur, but what I am certain of is his name; my mother called him Shou.
"I do not wish to speak of it," I grunt.
I dare to look in his direction, and once I do my stomach begins to churn. He appears to be unhappy with my answer – I certainly would be. I technically shoved his sincerity back in his face.
His head is slanted back, looking into the starless sky, any semblance of cheer sapped from his face. It seems to me that I have upset him again.
An awkward silence washes over us, and I have the distinct feeling I'm not wanted here, but I won't allow myself to muck up this opportunity. I owe it to Starling for beating some sense into me. I sigh and reach for the bottle in Ace's hand, gradually working loose his fingers from it. He tenses up at first but allows me to take the bottle without difficulty. I pull it to my lips and take a deep, uneasy drink, then place the almost empty bottle to the side.
It is a funny realization just how something that tastes so horrible can make me feel so relaxed. I tell myself that the sudden courage I feel is from the alcohol. It is my shield and my sword against the fear I feel.
My fingers inch toward Ace's opened hand, where I gently prod him with one of my nails; not once but twice. He seems hesitant at first, opening and closing his fist again and again, but after a few more pokes from me, he reaches out and takes my hand in his, cupping his fingers over mine. Neither he nor I move to intensify the hold.
"I'm sorry, but I am unsure of what to do," I whisper.
"I can't make that decision for you," he replies. "It's up to you what path you make for yourself."
I clench my fist, letting him know how much his words annoy me. I hate having to come up with an answer that may change my life or ruin it. There is no sure way of knowing if I will find Shou – I've decided to refrain from calling him my father for now. It may take my whole life, but to see his face when I reveal to him that I am his daughter would be well worth the trouble. I sigh; then again it might not.
"I have always wanted to be a pirate," Ace says while breaking me from my thoughts. "It was my dream. My brothers and I worked very hard to accomplish it."
"Luffy and Sabo; the names of your brothers, am I right?"
He nods, stroking his thumb over my skin. I realize the memory must be hard for him think about, given the events that took Sabo away from the two of them. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, urging him to continue.
"You see, our grandfather wanted us to become respectful marines like himself, but we opposed the idea, the path he wanted us to take," he explains.
I understand what he means; he wants to show me that he too has made rough choices in his life, and that not always will the path taken lead to a dead end.
"Look at you now," I say quietly. "You are a well-known pirate sought after by the same marines you were fated to be."
"I know to someone like you, the path I chose seems fruitless, but what I gained from it is something far greater then reputation," he states.
"I wasn't aware pirates cared for more than money and fame," I snap.
His hand moves from mine, and for a second I hear him curse under his breath. I roll my eyes with every intention to get up and leave, but before I can move, I feel his hand beneath my chin, urging me to face him.
"Just listen to me for once," he orders. "Don't argue back, just pay attention."
I nod despite the irritation I feel. I obviously wasn't intending to make him angry; I only wanted to apologize for being a snob to him.
"I know you don't like me, in fact it's obvious we don't see eye to eye in every situation, but I'm not the one who abandoned you," he clarifies.
"Don't act like you know anything about me," I argue, tears stinging my eyes. "You have no clue how I feel."
"My dad had abandoned me too," he snaps. "Or rather it sometimes feels like that. He died before I was born so I never really got the chance to meet him."
I gasp; a sudden sickness washing over me. I never knew that about him, nor had I ever thought to ask. Someone who smiles as much as he does, never struck me as the type to hide his feelings. I'm so foolish for thinking that I am the only one to hurt. In a way, I am still so much like a child, blaming everyone for my pain.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I am so sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I don't much care for him, in fact, I denounced him as my father a long time ago," he tells me with a smile.
I understand now why the crew refers to Whitebeard as their father. He must be more of a father than most of the crew has ever had.
It must be nice to have someone like him to call father; someone you know will be there when you need him to be.
It is decided; I will stop at nothing to find Shou.
"Ayane," I hear Ace call.
I tear away from my thoughts and smile at him. It is because of Ace I know the way. I lean in; the expanse between us is rather small, and gently press my lips onto the corner of his mouth. I lean back shortly after to see his reaction. His eyes are wide, but he appears to be calm about it.
"What was that for?"
"For showing me the way," I admit shyly. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Seconds tick by in silence. I stare at the ground, well aware that his eyes are on me. I've certainly made a mistake; kissing him may have been too much. My face starts to become warm as I anxiously search for the reason to my actions. There are a million excuses I could make, but none of them seem to fit the sudden action I made.
I chew at my jaw, lips puckered – the kiss making face Ansel says I make when I zone out. Perhaps it would have been better if I had asked for permission first. On the other hand, I rather like the wide-eyed expression I made him form.
"I'm sorry," I murmur giving him a smile.
His hand slides under my chin, tilting back my head.
"That was a pretty bold action you just made," he states.
"Did I offend you?"
He smirks and motions me closer, cupping my left cheek. His lips brush mine for a brief second, enough for me to taste the alcohol on his mouth. I smile and lean in with a light kiss, obvious that I don't care whether he is upset or not. He sighs, clearly bothered by how I disregarded his teasing.
"Someone's being brave," he states.
I disagree, placing a hand against his chest. The rush of warmth makes me shutter.
"I'm actually pretty nervous," I say shyly.
"It's just a kiss," he states.
"I've never been kissed," I admit.
Ace gives me a sincere smile and leans in, pressing his lips against mine. He doesn't tease or laugh, just softly kisses me. I leisurely move my hand up his chest until I reach his neck – the tips of my fingers playing with the beaded string around his neckline.
The kiss is brief, but the minute we part Ace leans back in and lightly pecks my lips. On the second one he teases me, kissing the corner of my mouth as an alternative.
I groan and poke him in the side; a warning to play nice.
He smiles and locks his lips around my lower lip. I shudder once his tongue moves swiftly across it, urging me to open my mouth. I do so, just enough for him to slide his tongue in to meet with mine.
I moan; the feeling is pleasant. He tastes nice, despite the rum he put aside earlier. It gives him a semi-sweet taste that makes me lean in more in hopes of extending the kiss. He responds by pulling me against his chest.
The kiss becomes rough. I'm unsure of how long it lasts before I pull back in order to catch my breath. Ace does the same, only he pulls me forward and leans his forehead against mine.
"I assume you are not upset with me anymore?"
"No, not anymore," he assures me.
I kind of thought he may have been lying earlier when he mentioned he was over it. I knew better, but I'm happy to hear he isn't upset any longer. Still, I feel very ignorant for causing so much trouble for him.
"If you agree, I would like to make up for the trouble I have caused you," I mention.
"There's no need for that," Ace states.
"Maybe not, but it would make me feel better," I tell him. "Besides, I owe you for the kiss, and I don't like being in debt to anyone."
Ace scoffs and leans away, propping his body against the chimney wall as he did before. I frown; surely it wasn't something I said.
"I didn't kiss you because I wanted you to owe me," he states.
"I fail to understand what you mean," I say.
He laughs and motions me closer. I take the spot beside him, leaning against his arm.
"Do you always speak like that?"
"Once again, I fail to understand what you mean," I tell him again.
"Just listen to yourself," he says. "I fail to understand; I am unsure of what to do. You speak as if you have an authority complex, as if you are better than the people you speak to."
I'm speechless for once. I wasn't aware the way I spoke offended him. Though I understand what he means, I do treat him as if he were an underling. I'm ashamed to even admit that. For once I thought I'd do better.
"You want to make it up to me still?"
"Yes," I reply in a whisper.
"Speak to me like a friend. Don't call me commander or pirate, just my name. Is that a deal?"
"I can do that," I say with a smile.
I owe it to him after all.
He smiles and slides his arm around me. I don't know what this means for us; the kiss or any of the reasons behind his words, but I won't argue or ruin the moment with my questions. I'd rather enjoy them while I can.
"Ace," I call softly.
He hums in reply, rubbing his fingers over my shoulders. It feels nice – attention I'm not use to getting.
"I was wondering, if it's alright with you, can I stay with you a little while longer?"
His fingers come to a standstill at my collarbone. A brief silence passes between us before he moves again, pressing what I assume to be his hat on top of my head. I don't understand the meaning of this gesture, and I'm not sure I ever will, but I welcome it. As I curl in closer, the faint hum of music fills the air. I imagine a place where I belong; a sort of home with Whitebeard and his crew that I hope to stay with for as long I am able.
For now, anyway.
AN: Please excuse me for the delay in writing. I am back now. Burn With Me is a product of Primrose Path that has been on my desktop for some time. I didn't plan for the story to be so long, but when I began writing on it, I couldn't help it. Please remember, this One-shot is not apart of the original story. It's just a cute short I came up with. It does have a sequel, but the second part is a lemon, so it's not connected to this half.
There may be some confusion in this, because some of the characters have not been introduced into the main story yet, but I assure you, they appear in the second chapter. I hope my readers will enjoy this. If you want the second part, just let me know. Also, I realize the point of view jumps around a bit. I was going to redo the whole thing, but I decided to put the OS out as it was written.
Thank you,
PlayfulxPurple
