Q: When do people die?

A: 'It's when...they are forgotten.'

Dr. Hiluluk

It's the bloody brutally from the Marine that reels the journalist in – hook, line and sinker.

His pen falls down; five fingers tremble non-stop.

Luckily she catches it, "Azuma?" his colleague asks in concern. "You okay?"

"Yes." this is a lie, "It's just that I don't know h-how anyone can't feel a bit-…just a bit. I know they're pirates and all but, they're still human, right? Look at them! They're brothers I think, and…" grounding himself to a halt, the journalist feels he's rambling and sympathising way more than he should.

His arm reaches across his face, fiercely and briskly wiping two eyes.

There are no tears at all. Only pesky particles of dust, at least that's what he tells himself.

"Sorry. Don't know what came over me."

"Sorry, about what? I get it, Azuma."

"Get what?" he challenges, his slight anger an arrow with no target to throw itself at.

"Get that – them. Think you're the only one affected?"

"But they're outlaws."

She sighs heavily, refusing to roll her eyes at the obvious, "No shit, Sherlock. They're affiliation and actions make 'em outlaws. Outlaws who'd jump in front of another without hesitation." Outlaws who's actions are so humane – she doesn't say. "Makes you think, huh?"

"More like makes you cry." he says when she herself fiercely and briskly wipes dust from her eyes.

. . . .

It's a big known fact that fraternization with the enemy is big NO-NO for all Marines dealing with pirates/other outlaws. There's no ifs ands or buts allowed; however, sympathy is a "-try not to. They brought it on themselves." type of speech. It's described as a grey-coloured moral abyss than a black or white shade of morality.

Nonetheless the 'white' morality of Akainu is gradually mixing with a 'black' hue. Cause and effect are not harmonising with each other now. The conspicuous context in the content won't allow it. This is why in the end, a punch through the gut by a fist for the convicted is permissible; Sippenhaft is not outlawed. However, the convicted's brother (an outlaw too, more so, an anarchist) taking the blow instead is a beacon of morality in a sea of absolute justice.

Unless one is a psychopath, how can a Marine not sympathise, if not show itty-bitty pity for the inevitable soon to occur?

Though it's contrary in human nature, Bartholomew Kuma has read and recorded to memory, '...no greater love than to lay one's life for one's friends.' in this particular case it's for a brother—nakama. A friend nonetheless.

Perhaps it's no wonder that several standpoints are wavering for a few itty-bitty minutes. Frankly, you couldn't pay a beggar off a street to watch this NC-17 scene, willingly. Nope. Absolutely no amount of bellis would be worth the nightly, terrorising dreams to come later. This scene is physically painful to watch (a major figure in history – extremely eccentric, forces himself to, clenching his fists tightly). Several heads do turn away, Good and Bad alike, averting their eyes elsewhere—anywhere but there.

There, on the battlefield where a young man (who sure as hell won't live pass thirty) staggers and stumbles and sways across the ground, side to side. His movements are coordinated no longer, legs of his are unable to support his weight, unable to dismiss the heavy blow delivered not meant for him; nevertheless; inadvertently him anyway. The young man possessing morbid curiosity, inquisitive by nature allows his five fingers to skim and feel the missing entity—the gaping void—his non existent gut.

He almost can't believe it—almost. Just imagine that: one's liver, stomach, intestines and the rest reduced to nothing in a matter of seconds?

It hardly took effort. So despite losing the swimming know-how, devil fruit's are a bunch of amazingly scary yet, shit/crap/something illegal-tasting fruits...

Understandably boneless, a young captain's brown eyes permanently lock onto the unfolding scene, willingly. Abundantly so, they receive an explicit eyeful of the (irreparable) damage. Slowly but surely, puzzle pieces of disbelief in his head start to join their counterparts of reality.

"No,"

Never has Luffy seen a puncture so wide and so horrifying before. It's one hell of a hole! Not one bit subtle. Maybe, just maybe the Magu Magu no Mi fruit is truly omnipotent? It's not entirely untrue, if too much of an exaggeration.

Shuddering suddenly, the usually naïve captain's unusually morbid imagination demonstrates how he could easily fit his head through it.

"No, no way, hell no,"

Honestly, he hasn't seen this kind of severity since the Thriller Bark incident featuring his First Mate. It frightens then, and this frighten him now. It simply scares the hell out of him that he doesn't and wouldn't need Chopper to clarify the situation. He actually understands what's going on. What Sabo did (once again). What might happen. What could-

"Sabo!"

-the young man falls down unwillingly (body/gravity/time all against him). With knees buckling non-stop, there's no choice for him but to crash land abruptly to the floor. His body sways again like weightless leaves—the world spinning beneath his knee caps no doubt. Now, there really is no more time to dwell on questions for Sabo's seconds away from marring up his face on granite surface. All this and more makes Luffy react and rebound. Instantly and supportively besides his brother's right side.

The revolutionary bears no likeness to the strong and swift fighter that accompanied Luffy and their abnormal allies in Impel Down. No resemblance of strength is visible.

His mouth opens, "Sabo, Sabo, are you o-" then quickly clamps down steel shut, all in order to swallow those five letters down his throat, while berating himself (which is rare) for his stupidity. Of course Sabo isn't okay! "Sorry. Didn't mean that." No one in the world would be. For crying out loud, his brother is on the verge of dy-...leaving. Again.

Damnit!

This shouldn't be happening. Truth be told, "shouldn't" is simply a verb expressing a 'possibility' not a certainty. Nonetheless, surely there's someone to blame—someone, somewhere controlling these sick and twisted events but who? Who is it out there with a nasty bone to pick with Sabo? Who's this mentally deranged species that doesn't allow the revolutionary time with his blood brothers?

What is it? The second division commander wonders himself, furious and now on the qui vive that: fate, destiny or a deity is in fact in control of the universe he's been inhabiting for twenty years so far.

Seeing that Ace did not possess the best seat in the house presently, fortunately he hadn't had the chance to witness the violent volcanic intrusion enter and leave his long-thought-dead brother. Later, he just might humourlessly thank the mysterious person for that since he's already going to get enough nightmares as it is. This war is scarring him. Chances are that it'll be as permanent as his irremovable pride of joy behind him.

Alert, mental faculties from the second division commander automatically think of Luffy, then ultimately Sabo. His blonde brother who he saw sky-falling with Luffy today, the one who pushed him out of the way – out of harm's way – Akainu's harm. That alone makes his stomach sink to unbearable depths. This piece of knowledge unsettles him.

WHERE and HOW is Sabo?

Ace gets his answer, "Fuck no," once he follows everyone's gazes, all their various, expressive eyes seemingly drawn to the new plight of the day. He: Ace, is no longer the centre of attention.

Sabo is: his wound-gaping hole is about as subtle as the aftermath of a Buster Call.

"Hell, no...you're not gonna – you can't-!"

Unable to not dismiss that unmissable revelation, temporarily so wishes he was blind as a bat. The searing image won't be leave his mind any time soon. He can bet his ass and the whole world's on that.

Shock empties out of his chest, immediately being replaced by a surge of responsibility and protection. Springing back to action, in a span of seven seconds he's at his injured brother's side, working alongside Luffy so that they both hold the revolutionary in their arms. They also create a head resting spot, lying between both their touching shoulder's for solely Sabo.

Their Sabo.

In a strained voice, the commander speaks in hopes to get a reaction, "Hey, Sabo, you're," gonna be fine. All right. OK. Are the overused lies he cannot use. His brother's no idiot. "not a weaklin'. Never have been, okay? So you will – you have to – you can't-" grounding himself to a halt, Ace is going off track. He's unable to retain calm and certainty when his filtered doubts scream and underline that the situation at hand is not.

What is more is that he didn't get a reaction.

"Sabo, you still there?" the worrying voice, belonging to Luffy asks. The captain even runs his hands through the blonde curly hair and hastily on the revolutionary's upper back, still getting no reply in return.

The duo seize up.

Oh, God, no. Don't let it be so.

As though it is synchronised, their faces fall forlorn and become freaked out. Their mouths feel as dry as the sandy deserts in Alabasta. In this second, the daunting realisation that their brother is gone renders their heart beats erratic.

Ace's tempo is much more irregular than Luffy's since, he realises he is causing Sabo this agony; he's the idiot who let his temper get the better of him and thus allowed Akainu wind him up and to target his loved ones. He's inadvertently caused his brother's death. This awakening punches his own gut with the force the fucking Admiral used and stays there, eating away his soul, spirit and mind.

He's so sorry.

Very, very sorry.

He'll burst at the seams if he can't tell Sabo that.


A/N: No need to worry! There will be 2 more chapters after this. Besides, this short-three-chaptered fanfic to be was originally an alternative to a Saving My Brother(s) scene but, it's been revised and re-written recently. Now it's a heart-constricting moment where Sabo (a revolutionary who met up and aided and fought alongside Luffy during Impel down) dies at Marineford. Instead of Ace. Thanks for reading! Please REFLECT on what you've read then, REVIEW by typing your thoughts or/and criticisms.