I couldn't help myself, I know there are a lot of stories like this one, but I had to write it.
Disclaimer: One Piece doesn't belong to me, I would never scar myself as deeply as Ace's death did.
Please, point out any mistakes you find.
Life goes on, but the past remains
It was a quiet, uneventful island, placed in the center of what remained of the Whitebeard Pirates' territory. Some would even say it was one of the most protected places on the world, seeing as no one who tried had managed to get remotely close to it. Situated on a cliff facing the ocean laid two graves, graves that belonged to dear people who had died two years ago.
There rested the father and the lover of the man who now walked towards them from a lone ship on the coast, the newspaper from early that week in hand.
No one had argued that it was Marco who should bring it.
The blond man stopped a couple yards from the graves and stayed still for a minute, giving his silent greetings to the ones resting there. Then he approached the smaller tomb, knelt before it and pinned the paper to one side of the stone.
-You don't need to worry; we'll take care of him.
He stood again and, before going back to the ship, took the skull hanging from the orange hat, brought it up and kissed it.
See you soon, Ace.