In another world, it'd be the other way around — Luffy, face down in the grass, bawling his eyes out atop the cliff, saltwater tears joining the endless sea below while his brother stood near, less consoling and more scoffing, ready to move foward towards the future that was allowed before them; because unlike their third, luck was on their side whether they liked it or not. Fate took and disposed of who it will, clung to those who it deemed worthy; and it seemed only the two of them were the latter. Their poor brother had no luck to speak of — fate dragged him beneath the waves and wreckage left behind of his ship.

In this world, however, fate goes like this: Sabo's departure was a long time coming, and the day he left sent Ace storming to the cliff to watch him off when the docks no longer held a good vantage point, collapsing into a ball of his own melancholy once Sabo himself was too small to see atop the Revolutionaries' ship. It was only then did he let the tears fall, pretending Luffy couldn't see when he scrubbed furiously at his eyes.

He sat like that for a while; the sun made its descent towards the sea, painting the clouds their sleepy lilac as the ship their brother boarded sailed towards the horizon. And it's fitting, Ace thought as he noticed the last remaining blue clinging stubbornly to the top of the sky, above the cheery pink — Sabo's as untouchable as he ever was aboard that ship.

He knew his brother belonged there, was never meant for the life here on his small island he called home. But the acceptance was buried down deep behind a frustration burning so bright it consumed any other thought he had. Admittedly, Ace didn't know much about what went on outside of Dawn Island, but he knew that anyone associated with the Revolutionary Army were considered a threat to the World Government, and their lives were meticulously tracked down and eliminated — he didn't want that for his brother. Nobody in this corner of their entire island wanted that for his brother

Sabo showed himself to be a formidable opponent, clashing heads just to get his point across — and he did so until the day he set off to sea. He bid his farewells and joined the Revolution, sailing on to whoever knows where, and Ace felt a swell of pride that his brother had carried out what he set his sights on.

After having sat there for longer than he knew, eyes fixated on the horizon line, ship nearly out of sight and Sabo long out of reach now, Luffy finally edged closer to him and muttered a "I thought you said you were fine with him leaving."

And of course that'd be the first thing he said after having stood silent for so long — that's a new record, by the way. After having sat through so many arguments of his brothers — Dadan included too, Garp even worse — and having come to agreement with Sabo long ago, Luffy knew no one opposed his brother's decision harder than Ace himself. (Garp maybe, but all three of them valued each other's opinion higher than anyone else's, government bodies and grandfathers included.)

"I am!" Ace retorted, because it was true, as much as he felt differently at that very moment. "It's just—" and more tears fell with a righteousness even he wasn't aware of. "He's gone now. He's left us."

A shrug is what he got for his efforts. "He said he'll come and visit."

"He said that to make you feel better — you don't get breaks in a war, Luffy. When's he ever gonna—"

"He said he'll visit," Luffy repeated, casual and sure in all the ways that he is. "I believe him." The ocean before him bled orange at his resolve and their brother's ship was a mere spec in the distance now, barely visible between the harsh glare the sun and sea provided. Their brother, in all but blood, sailing towards the molten ball in the sky, freedom at his fingertips. The sight left Ace with a shudder of a breath.

Luffy looked at him now. "Do you?"

Does he? There's a question, isn't it? He didn't know much about war— should he even call it that? What Sabo left for was a feat in itself, fighting for freedom and a justice the World Government could never provide. You don't get a minutes rest when opposing them, their power so great it's as unimaginable as it is absolute. The side Sabo chose was for one of freedom; looking for not that ever-forbidden knowledge of what tore the world apart all those years ago, walls thrown up and physical borders established, but a way to look past that, towards a better future.

Ace's father died being the only one who knew of that particular truth, the only one successful enough to unlock the secret the World Government tries so hard to hide. And it was a low blow coming from Sabo when he accused Garp of shutting the rogue down permanently for a truth Garp himself wasn't even fully aware of — that particular ruction is one that stood out stark in Ace's mind than any other fight his brother had about his decision, as volatile and brutal as they may be.

Luffy was dead to the world, but an uproar woke Ace up so violently he had to go see what was wrong. And of course it was Sabo — Ace had been tossed to his bunk just to break the two apart, their own argument got so out of hand; and while Ace resolved to sleep off his frustration, Sabo seemed raring for another brawl.

Of all their previous feuds and physical fistfights regarding their disagreement, what he saw paled in comparison.

Garp was crying.

Garp, unmovable and unshakable — Ace hadn't even known he had taken a holiday so close to his last one; must have been one of his surprise visits for the morning — his grandfather stood, towering over Sabo as he did, shuddering.

For his part, Sabo looked as lost as Ace felt, watching the man try to unsuccessfully hide his grief behind a massive hand. And as Ace hid behind the threshold of his shared door, his grandfather let out a trembling breath of air, searching not for his own dignity but for the words meant for the boy who stood before him, who declared himself a man, no older than thirteen.

And it must have been hard, Ace thought, watching Garp struggle so — Garp, who always seemed so sure in everything that he did and said; Garp — who treated Ace and Sabo no differently from his own flesh and blood — wept as he tried to fruitlessly explain where he sat on justice's scale.

That got Sabo back into motion, demanding Garp not exclude himself from the chase he himself often led, before Ace was born, before he held an innocent child in his arms, Roger long gone.

"You killed him," Sabo accused his own grandfather. "You killed him because they told you to, because the Government said he was bad."

He remembered Garp shaking his head once, just a little, just once, before hanging his head, silent.

Ace looked at Luffy, the glare of the sun hidden just behind his beloved straw hat. Luffy believed in their brother, had listened to his voice turned hoarse during all the arguments that Sabo had, fighting tooth and nail — and "Is that what you're going to do to me? Kill me, too? What if I do find the truth, huh? What if someone else kills me, would you say I deserved it? Fighting for my own freedom? Fighting for everyone's freedom?"

Luffy was an idiot, but he wasn't ignorant. He knew just as well as anyone else that the World Government did what they wanted. He knew of the hardships Sabo will face.

He said he'll visit. I believe him.

Do you?

"I do," the admission made his heart swell and lodge itself in his throat. He said for more his own sake than Luffy's, but he had a feeling his brother knew that much, "Sabo's always kept his word, hasn't he? He'll be fine." He tried to convince himself of it; imagined all the horrors that awaited his brother and all the dangers he couldn't be there to stand beside him for. "He's strong," because he was — stronger than Ace ever thought imaginable.

A child, born into nobility but left for a life searched elsewhere. A child no less brave in the way he scoured the earth for a place to call home, no scratch of the honor he held in leaving it to fight for what he believed in.

What did Ace believe in? Where would his path take him, when he realized his own dream in the world?

The last of the sun's rays snuffed out, and Luffy's voice rang out as it did, filling the void the darkness often brought. "So," he drawled, so full of cheek it hurt. "Who's gonna tell Gramps?"