My little brother is a huge fan of Steven Universe, and one of his favorite episodes is the one where Steven finds a video tape his mom left behind. That episode got me teary-eyed, but it also got me thinking. What if a certain Whitebeard pirate who never met his birth mother suddenly found a record of her she left behind? Obviously not a video- I don't think the One Piece world has stuff like that. But maybe a tone dial...
Only now when I imagine Rouge's voice in English, all I keep hearing is Susan Egan. Oh well, it could be worse.
I've been sitting on this one-shot for awhile now. I've been focusing on my long-term story Tomorrow's Romance Dawn, as well as my new shorter story Nothing But the Truth. However, I decided now would be as good a time as any to finally get this out into the world. There are so few fics with Rouge in them... and the few goods ones haven't been updated in forever (you know who you are). So I hope you'll all enjoy my attempt.
But right after this, I'm working on Nothing But the Truth. I want that one done as soon as possible.
This takes place after Ace decided to join the Whitebeard Pirates, but just before he become the 2nd Division Commander. There is also mention of another pirate crew, but they're just OCs and unimportant. The title of the story comes from the song, "A Mother's Love" by Jim Brickman. It's a good song, check it out!
Ace bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he seemed calm on the outside, but on the inside he was a mess of nerves. This was the moment of truth.
"Really? What a surprise," Pops said. "So that's how it is." He took a swig of sake and gazed at Ace with a critical eye. "You don't really act like Roger, though..."
Ace managed to keep his expression calm, and finally asked the big question weighing on his mind. "Weren't you two enemies?... You're not going to throw me out?"
"When you said you had something important to talk about I thought it would be bigger than this," Pops admitted.
Ace's eyes widened slightly. How was him being the son of the freaking Pirate King not big?
"It doesn't matter who your parents were. Everyone is a child of the sea. Gurararara!"
Ace stared at his surrogate father for a few long moments, then released a sigh of relief he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. That was good to know. Very good.
"You little brat," his captain said in realization. "You really thought I was going to throw you overboard, didn't you?"
The young man shrugged. "It's not as if Roger was the most popular guy around, you know. And my track record for asking the hypothetical 'what if Gold Roger had a son' question hasn't been the best."
That was the biggest understatement of the century, but Ace didn't see the need to go into all that. It was late after all, and Pops needed his sleep.
"Then why now?" Pops asked curiously. "You could've gone your whole life without telling me, and honestly, I wouldn't have cared either way. What changed your mind?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Call it idle curiosity. If one of my sons decides to risk being thrown overboard, I want to know why."
Ace rubbed the back of his neck. "It's kind of a long story, and it is kind of late... not to mention the head nurse will castrate me if she finds out I kept you up... "
"That's for me to worry about," Pops said with mild humor. He took another swig of booze. "Tell me or don't. It's up to you."
Ace sighed. It was up to him... well, why not. He'd already divulged his greatest secret- what got him to finally do the divulging was tame in comparison.
"Might as well," Ace said. He crossed his arms as he remembered. "It was back when we were in port, two days ago..."
Two Days Earlier...
Ace shoved his hat lower on his head, trying and failing to hide the vein on his forehead that was threatening to blow. "Thatch, Marco; remembered when I said I wanted to go on to the island alone today?"
"Hmm," Thatch pretended to think. "I dimly recall young Ace saying something like that. What say you, Mr. Marco?"
Marco bit back a snicker at Thatch faux-posh a voice, then replied, "That he did, yoi. That he did."
"Alright then," Ace said through grit teeth. He grabbed the two men by their shoulders and pulled them down to his level. "Then explain to me why you both followed me anyway?"
The Moby Dick didn't pull into port often- mostly because whenever they did, it tended to send everyone into panic. This was the case even for islands under Whitebeard's protection. Luckily, this island- a quiet (for the New World anyway) one not too far from the beginning of the New World and the Red Line- was one of the few that didn't go into a frenzy. It was actually home to one of Whitebeard's allies, the Mood Ring Pirates, and the two crews shared joint protection. The Mood Ring crew was elsewhere, which meant the Whitebeard crew could dock without worrying about an altercation between Marco and the Mood Rings' female captain (Thatch claimed they had a history, and personally, that was all Ace wanted to know).
Ace had been hoping for a little personal time, which he didn't often desire. But it was that time of year again and he wanted to be alone to collect his thoughts. Marco and Thatch had other ideas, apparently. They had followed him off the ship and into the island's main village. Now they were persistently walking with him down the street.
"Because your birthday is in a few days, and there's no way I'm letting you get away with not doing something for it!" Thatch announced proudly, throwing an arm around the younger man's shoulders.
Marco removed Ace's hand from his own shoulder. "I'm just here to make sure this doesn't become a repeat of Jozu's birthday last year, yoi."
Thatch shuddered and crossed himself. As interested as Ace was in hearing the traumatizing story behind that action, he was still caught on Thatch's declaration.
"... How did you guys know my birthday was coming up?" Ace asked. He hadn't told anyone on the Whitebeard crew when it was.
"We have our sources," Thatch said cryptically. He whacked Ace upside the head, ignoring the dirty look the younger man sent him. "And that's for making us use our sources instead of telling us! I mean, you're turning 19! That's a milestone, and you should be proclaiming it to the high heavens!"
Ace shrugged nonchalantly. "My birthday's never been a big deal to me. It just means I've managed to live another year, and that's good enough for me."
"... When you put it like that, you make your birthday sound depressing, yoi," Marco commented in deadpan.
Ace smirked and patted his two friends/ship brothers on their backs. "Never mind that. If you two, or Thatch at least, are so keen on celebrating something, how about the anniversary of me becoming a pirate?"
The phoenix raised an eyebrow. "That's coming up too, yoi?"
"I originally set out on my 17th birthday, so it'll be two years since then."
"Can't we do both?" Thatch asked, putting his hands together and giving Ace the puppy dog look. "It could be the biggest party the Moby Dick has ever seen!"
Luckily for the flame man, years of living with Luffy gave him immunity to such a look. "Nope. One or the other, man."
Thatch frowned and cross his arms. "You are no fun, Ace. Fine, since you're not so hot on your birthday, we'll do your pirate anniversary if that's what you really want. But can I and everyone else pretend we're celebrating your birthday?"
"... You already told everyone else my birthday was coming up, didn't you."
"He did," Marco confirmed. "He started with me and it hit the 16th Division by noon, yoi."
Ace hung his head, then groaned in exasperation towards the sky. "Fine! We'll do the birthday thing since the rest of the crew's already expecting it."
Marco and Thatch high-fived each other. Ace realized this was probably their plan from the very beginning, and there was no coming back from it. Wonderful.
"While we're in town, the first thing we should do is pick up some sake, yoi," Marco suggested. "If there's going to be a party, Pops is going to want his booze."
Thatch shook his head. "He really shouldn't be drinking so much at his age, but I guess every man needs at least one vice to indulge in."
"Plus, getting him to quit would be about as successful as stopping the tides, yoi."
Ace snickered; truer words had never been said. He was about to throw his own two berries into the conversation, when he was interrupted.
CRASH!
The three stopped walking and conversing at the sound of something breaking- which turned out to be a flowerpot. Dirt and flowers were now strewn all over the ground.
Standing behind the now broken pot, and assumably the one who dropped it, was a little old lady. She was so old her skin looked papery and loose. Her stark white hair was pulled into a firm bun, and her eyes were in a perpetual squint. She wore a gray long-sleeved house dress and gray ballet flats. She even carried a gray cane. The only bit of color on her person was a vivid red hibiscus flower pinned into her bun.
She stood there frozen, gaping like a fish. The gape seemed to focused on the young freckled man standing before her.
"Uh... ma'am?" Ace spoke up, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Is everything okay?"
All of a sudden, in a burst of speed that seemed improbable for a woman her age, she had ran over to Ace and grabbed him by his face, dragging him down to her level.
"Hey-!" Ace began to protest, but stopped when her saw the old lady's expression.
The woman's eyes were tearing up, and she was smiling with so much happiness it was scary. Keeping a firm grip on his chin, she moved his face from side to side, as if trying to memorize every detail about his features.
"I thought so," she rasped in a creaky voice. She smiled wider. "It's you, isn't? You're Ace!"
Thatch chuckled. "Looks like you got a fan, Ace."
Marco didn't comment, but he didn't appear as amused as Thatch was. He was giving the woman a wary look.
Ace blinked and gently removed the woman's hands from his face. "Yeah, my name is Ace. Do you mind telling me why that matters, ma'am?"
The old lady wasn't listening. She grabbed Ace's face again and peered closely at it. "I saw... and I knew... of course it's you, you're the spitting image of her...!"
The lady finally let go of Ace's face, only to grab his hand and start dragging him down the road.
"Hey, what are you-?" Ace tried to protest again.
"Just come with me, boy!" the old woman ordered. "It's very important!"
The pleading tone she used killed any resistance. Ace let her drag him, and Thatch and Marco had no choice but to follow.
The lady ended up bringing the men out of the village and to a solitary house on a small peninsula jutting out from the main island. It was small cottage, but wherever you looked there were flourishing hibiscus bushes. There were so many that, whenever a gust of wind blew, it kicked up a flurry of colorful petals.
Thatch let out a low whistle. "The old lady sure has a lot of free time. There must be at least 30 of those bushes."
"I doubt she dragged Ace all the way here just to show off her garden, yoi," Marco muttered back. "I wonder what she wants."
The lady finally let go of Ace in front of a particularly large bush. Then out of nowhere she pulled out a pair of shovels, and turned to Marco and Thatch.
"Could you two be dears and dig up this bush right here?" she asked sweetly. "I'd do it, but my back isn't quite what it's used to be."
Rather than argue why Ace couldn't do it, the two older men just sighed and did as she asked. It was shame to dig up such lovely flowers, but the woman was insistent. They managed to dig up a fair amount within a few minutes, and it wasn't long after that did Marco's shovel hit something.
"I got something, yoi," he announced.
He and Thatch reached into the hole they had just dug and removed a small metal chest. As soon as they did, the old woman snatched it away and held it out to Ace.
Ace took the chest. "Thanks... what is this exactly?"
"Your inheritance, Ace," the woman replied. "Bring it back to your ship and listen to it. When you're done, come back to me and we'll have a nice chat."
Without another word, the old woman hobbled into her house (bringing Ace, Marco, and Thatch there must have used up her earlier energy) and shut the door. The present Whitebeard Pirates just stood in utter confusion.
"Now what?" Thatch asked. "And what did the granny mean by 'inheritance'?"
"Are you sure you don't know who she is, Ace? Because she seems to know you, yoi," Marco asked.
Ace frowned and shook the chest. There was a dull clunking sound, but nothing else. He tucked it underneath his arm before answering. "I never seen her before in my life. As for how she knew me... I guess there's one way to find out."
A little later, aboard the Moby Dick...
The trio had made their way back to the ship and quickly went into Marco's room. They figured that was the only place they'd have the privacy to do... whatever it was they were going to do.
The chest now lay open, situated in the middle of the circle they were sitting in on the ground.
"So... Granny went to all that fuss over a seashell?" Ace asked with a touch of disbelief.
In the center of chest, laying in a bed of silk, was a rosy-pink conch shell. Along the rim were several small holes, but other than that it looked like a normal shell.
"Some inheritance," Thatch commented sardonically.
Marco picked the shell up and examined it. "I don't know... maybe there's more to it, yoi. These holes on the side kind of remind me of a dial, yoi."
"Oh, good point," Thatch agreed.
Ace raised an eyebrow. "What's a dial?"
"It's a special type of shell that can store anything from fire to sound," Thatch explained. "They're more common on sky islands, but every now and again they make their way here to the Blue Sea."
Marco tossed the dial to Ace. "Granny told us to listen to it, so I'm going to guess it's a Tone Dial. Just click the apex of the shell and it should start playing, yoi."
Ace wanted to question how a shell could record sound, but decided that was a question for another day. He tapped the shell's apex and set it back down onto the chest, leaving the holes facing up. The three pirates crossed their arms and listened expectantly.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Tap.
Then there was a tapping sound, as if someone had set something down on a hard surface. Someone placing the dial on a table perhaps?
"...Okay, is it working? I can't tell."
A voice emerged from the Tone Dial- it was a dulcet woman's voice, kind and full of warmth. She sounded rather quizzical, most likely about the dial she was recording her voice with.
"Didn't he tell you how to work it when he gave it to you?" the voice of another woman asked. Ace immediately recognized it as the old lady from earlier.
"Well, yeah. He said to hit the apex and start talking." She paused. "... Which means it just recorded me sounding completely clueless." A sigh. "Crap, I really wanted to this to be perfect..."
The old woman's voice chuckled. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll leave you alone now, but call for me if you need anything. Alright?"
"I will. Thank you, Naomi."
"It's no problem, Rouge."
When the old woman, Naomi, said the other woman's name, Thatch and Marco noticed Ace's eyes widening. He looked like he had been punched in the gut. They were about to ask him what was wrong, but the dial made a sound like that of a door closing and Rouge started speaking again.
Rouge chuckled. "I'm sorry if this sounds a little improvised. I actually practiced what I wanted to say, but now that it's time to actually say it... it's like the words won't come to me. It's like I'm getting stage fright in the worst way possible. I guess I'll just have to wing it then."
She made a soft humming sound. "... You've been waiting for a long time, dearest. I can feel you even now, kicking and wanting to get out into the world. I don't blame you; the world has so much to offer and so much to see. Endless oceans, warm sunshine, and amazing people. The world is a beautiful, wonderful place... and I suppose that's why he could never stay with me on this island. It's much too small, and the sea calling out to him was too loud to ignore. But I don't mind. His love for the sea and the adventure that came with it was one of the things I adored about him. If he had been any different, your papa wouldn't have been the man I loved."
Ace's fists clenched the fabric of his shorts, but his expression was hidden by the shadows cast by his hat. Not that Thatch and Marco took notice of his reaction. They were too caught up in Rouge's words. Could she possibly be...?
"I remember when I told your papa I was expecting you, dearest," Rouge continued, now sounding sad and wistful. "I've never seen someone look so happy and so sad at the same time. Happy, simply because you exist.. and sad, because he would never be able to know you. He's gone now- he was very sick and wanted to go out with a bang, and I guess he did. I wish I could say his name even now, but I can't risk it in the likelihood someone finds this recording."
She made a slight choked sound, as if swallowing back tears. "I know I said that this world is beautiful... but it's also very cruel. There are people who hate your papa, and because of that they hate us too. Especially you, because his blood runs through your veins. I know it's not fair, but that's unfortunately how life is and that's why you can't join the world yet. Those awful, biased people are looking for you and I can't let them find you. You are mine. Mine and his, and I'm not going to let them have you. You're the only part of him I have left."
At that moment, Rouge's recording made an intense, pained gasp along with whimpers and heavy breathing.
"Rouge! Are you alright?!" Naomi's muffled voice called out in concern.
"I'm fine! The baby just kicked me really hard!" Rouge called back. "Now stop eavesdropping!"
There were a few seconds of silence before Rouge gave a sigh. "I hate lying to her. Naomi is an old friend and one of the few I can trust, but I don't want her to worry. You see, these last few weeks I've felt myself grow weaker and weaker- a side effect of prolonging your arrival, I suppose. It's come to the point where I decided to make this recording. I'm doing this because I don't think I'll be able to tell you in person." She chuckled humorlessly. "Your papa made me promise him one thing before he left, and that was to live. Live, and give you all the love he wouldn't be able to. Now it looks like I'm going to break that promise. Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of dying. What I fear is that you're going to have to grow up without your parents.
"Your papa told me he was sending someone to care for us, and I assume he's the one you're with as you listen to this. I'm also going to assume he's told you who your papa is because if he hasn't... well, let's just say you don't want to see me when I'm angry, dearest. Two cabin boys on your papa's ship learned that one the hard way.
"Listen to me when I say this; your life is not going to be easy. With your father having been who he was, you will find yourself asking questions that you may not want answered. You will even find those who will tell you your existence is a sin. I know I've heard the bad men searching the village say it more than once, and each time it took all my willpower not to react. Dearest, your existence is not a sin- it is a blessing. You are an innocent, sweet baby who is not guilty for the crimes of your father. Do not let what people tell you about him or what people assume about you hold you back. Don't let it define who you are or how you live your life. Don't let the fear of being hated for having your father's blood keep you alone. If there's one thing your father and I both loved, it was the freedom we had to live our lives to the fullest, and with the people we cared about. That is a freedom I want you to have more than anything in this world. I want you to live your life without regret and surrounded by people who love you. I hope for the latter most of all, because I'm not going to be around to do so.
"... I heard from Naomi that the bad men are thinking about leaving the island, so I guess I'll be seeing you soon. That means I'll also be seeing your papa soon as well. Once again, I don't mind. It's a selfish thought, but I lived a good life and I know you will be taken care of. I have no regrets beyond not being able to see you grow up and become the great person I know you'll be.
"... This message did not go the way I originally planned but here's the gist of it; I may not be there for you, but no matter where you decide to go or who you decide to be... just know that I love you. I love you more than anything on this cruel, beautiful world, my darling Ace... or Ann. I don't know your gender yet, but as long as you're healthy, I'm happy... but I do hope you inherit my freckles. I never liked them, but your papa always thought they were lovely.
"Goodbye, dearest. I love you."
Click.
The dial's recording finally came to an end with that final click. The following silence was so imposing, the room's inhabitants were almost afraid to speak. Speaking would be like acknowledging Rouge's voice had actually stopped, and none of them appeared to want to do that.
Thatch, naturally, was the first one to speak up. He wiped a few stray tears from his eyes. "Damn. That was..."
"Yeah, I know what you mean, yoi," Marco understood. He wasn't crying, but he just wasn't an emotional person by nature. Still, that message...
The two men glanced at each other, then at the man the message was intended for.
Ace was just sitting there. His posture was entirely rigid and his hat was still shadowing his eyes. As far as they could tell, he was not completely dry-eyed either.
"Ace, yoi...?" Marco said, trying to get the younger man's attention.
Ace flinched, then he reached over and shut the chest closed. Having done that, he picked the chest up and walked almost mechanically out of the room. He slammed the door behind him as well. Once he was gone, Marco and Thatch looked at each other.
"For his sake... let's pretend we didn't hear a single word of that," Thatch said tiredly.
Marco nodded. "Sounds good to me, yoi."
"You're Naomi, aren't you?!" Ace shouted, shoving the door of the cottage open.
The old woman looked up from the cup of tea she had been drinking at her little table. "My my, that didn't take long. Does that mean you've listened to the Tone Dial all the way through?"
"I have, and you didn't answer my question!"
She rolled her eyes and shakily poured a fresh cup of tea. "Impatient, aren't you? You're just like your father."
Those last five words were like a slap in the face to Ace. Before he could make a remark about it or even disagree, the old woman gestured him to sit down.
"To answer your previous question, I am Naomi." When he sat, she continued. "Now, I'm sure you have questions, so let's hear them."
"... How much do you know about me exactly?" Ace said in the most even tone he could manage.
"I was the nurse at your birth, and was there when your mother named you," Naomi replied, sipping her tea. "I've seen your wanted poster. Smart, using your mother's surname instead of your father's. It's not even half as recognizable."
Ace twitched. Then the old Granny did know. "That's only half the reason why I started using her name. When Grand- Garp told me about her, I felt indebted to her for doing what she did for me. I figured the least I could do was use her name when I became a famous pirate."
"'Indebted'?" Naomi echoed. She chuckled. "That makes what Rouge did sound so professional. Then again, it's to be expected. You never really knew her."
Ace frowned and set the chest on the table. He then crossed his arms and gave Naomi an expectant look.
Naomi smiled. "Ah, the Tone Dial. Roger gave that to Rouge during his visit. He claimed to have gotten it from a sky island or something. I doubt he ever intended Rouge to use it the way she did, but I suppose it all worked out for the best." Her smile faded. "Rouge... she was a woman with so much give but she never asked for anything in return. She gave Roger everything and didn't care that he couldn't give most of it back."
"She said in her recording she didn't mind," Ace muttered almost absentmindedly.
"I never listened to the recording," Naomi admitted, much to the younger man's surprise. "Not in the twenty years that I've owned it. Those words were meant for you. Listening to them myself would have been dishonoring Rouge's memory."
"That gets me wondering," Ace said. "Why do you have it? Why didn't you give it to Grand- Garp to give to me?"
"Garp was very cautious about keeping your existence a secret. I feared he wouldn't allow for the dial to exist," Naomi explained. "So I held on to it and kept it hidden. Several years after Garp left, my great nephew came to Baterilla. He was a high-risk trader and was planning to enter the New World through the Red Line. I convinced him to take me with him. I smuggled the dial through customs by placing it in a box of mixed seashells, and my nephew set me up here on this island. I then buried it in that metal chest and planted a hibiscus bush over it." She sipped her tea. "I knew that if you had even a drop of your father's blood in you, you would one day set out to sea and come to the New World. Whether as a marine or a pirate... that depended entirely on Garp."
At the newest mention of his father, Ace had gone stiff. Naomi noticed this immediately.
"I'm going to take a guess and say you hate your father," she said bluntly. "That's a shame. I actually knew Roger, and he was a decent man for a pirate. Can't say I actually ever approved of Rouge's relationship with him, but there was no deterring your mother once she got an idea into her head. She was possibly the stubbornest person in the South Blue, if not the world. Even so, I doubt kind words from an old woman and whatever your mother said about him in the recording will do anything to change your mind. Those freckles aren't the only thing you inherited from her."
Naomi stood up and hobbled over to a desk. She unlocked one of the drawers and removed a photograph. She sat back down at the table and handed the picture to Ace.
"Here. This picture was taken right after she met your father," she said. "I figure that after all this, you deserve to know what your mother looked like."
Ace took the photograph from her and examined it closely.
In the picture, it showed a relatively young woman holding a basket of produce. She was very beautiful- she had pale skin, long strawberry-blond hair that fell in waves, and warm brown eyes. Her cheeks were covering in a healthy dusting of freckles, not unlike his own. She wore a simple short-sleeved dress, and tucked behind her left ear was a hibiscus flower. She was smiling softly and secretively in the photo, as if she knew something the person taking the picture didn't.
She's nothing like Dadan, that's for sure, Ace couldn't help but think.
Ace glanced up from the picture, looking at the flower in Naomi's bun and the bushes outside.
"Your mother loved hibiscus flowers. Her garden was full of them," Naomi said wistfully. "That's why I planted all of mine when I got here."
Naomi took the picture from Ace, set it on top of the metal chest, and pushed it towards Ace.
Ace raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"I told you; this is your inheritance. The dial and the photograph are yours to keep, Ace. I certainly have no need for them."
Ace looked at chest and the picture for a few seconds, then pushed them back.
"You keep them," he said. "I live on pirate ship, and these things are precious. I'd be worried about them getting lost or destroyed all the time."
Naomi frowned briefly, then smiled and took the items back. "If that's what you want."
Ace smiled back.
Now...
"... So I stayed a little longer, and she told me stories about my mom from when she was a kid. She didn't bring up Roger again though, not that I'm complaining. Once the sun set, I went back to the ship," Ace finished telling his story.
Pops didn't say anything, but his eyes prompted Ace to continue.
Ace sighed. "The next couple days after that, while we set sail and all, I thought about what my mom said in her message. She said she wanted me to live a life without regrets... without fear of being hated for being that man's son." He smiled. "I've had that fear my entire life. Still, it made me remember how I promised someone else I'd live life without regrets, and then I realized... living on your ship, as your son, without telling you who I really was? That would have been one of my greatest regrets. So here I am."
Pops finished off his bottle of sake and smiled.
"She also said not to let that fear hold me back, so..." Ace rubbed the back of his neck. "I've heard a rumor that you're planning to promote me to Second Division Commander on my birthday."
"It's no rumor," Pop told him. "I do plan to. If you accept the position."
"Then I accept."
"Excellent. Now, get out of here. Brats and their fathers need their sleep, and the head nurse will have both our hides if she finds out I was up this late."
Ace chuckled and stood up. He walked over to the cabin door, and was about to open it when he paused.
"Pops?"
"What is it, Ace?"
"I've never really like my birthday, but if my mom was looking forward to it so much, it can't be all bad. Right?"
"Gurarara, get to bed, Ace."
Ace grinned one last time and left the room.
Once Ace had left, Newgate sat up and laced his fingers contemplatively.
He had known Roger for many years. Fought against him, talked with him, had been occasional drinking buddies... and in all that time, he'd never taken him for the kind of man who would pursue a relationship with a woman. If anything, Roger had come off as completely oblivious to the opposite sex.
And now all of a sudden he had some secret lover in the South Blue and an illegitimate child to boot? It sounded like the plot of one of those bad romance novels Izo liked so much.
Still... this woman... Portgas D. Rouge. To prolong a pregnancy and do everything short of murder to protect her and Roger's unborn child was amazing. She was a D through and through.
Newgate chuckled to himself as he opened another bottle of sake. Roger sure knew how to pick 'em.
He could drink to that.
Ace didn't go straight to the sleeping quarters after he left Pop's cabin. He instead went out onto the main deck.
The moon was full and the sky was clear of any clouds, showcasing all the bright stars and their constellations. The weather was even nice- warm with the occasional sea breeze blowing gently against the sails. Ace move across the deck and leaned against the railing.
The fire man had to admit; he felt lighter. His heritage had been a weight on his chest for as long as he could remember. Finally telling someone about it felt good. He hadn't told Pops everything, though. He hadn't mentioned how he felt about his own existence- that it was a mistake, and how he questioned if his birth was a good thing or not.
Dearest, your existence is not a sin- it is a blessing.
Ace took a deep breath. Was his mother correct about that? Maybe. She had been right in many of her other predictions, both positive and negative. His life had been hard, but he still found people who cared for him. Luffy, Sabo, Dadan (though she'd never admit it), the bandits, Makino. Even Gramps... in his own twisted way.
Goodbye, dearest. I love you.
But to know that on an island in the South Blue, many years ago, there was a person who loved him earnestly and unconditionally like that... long before he met any of those other people...
"You keep them," he said. "I live on pirate ship, and these things are precious. I'd be worried about them getting lost or destroyed all the time."
Naomi frowned briefly, then smiled and took the items back. "If that's what you want."
Ace smiled back... then fisted his hands into his shorts. His head lowered, his face entirely shadowed by his hat.
"Ace?" Naomi asked. "What is it?"
She then realized the pirate's shoulders were shaking, and wet spots were appearing on the back his hands and on his shorts.
"She... she really loved me, didn't she?" Ace choked out, refusing to look up. "My mom, I mean."
Naomi teared up a bit herself, nodded, then got up and placed a hand on his shoulder. No more words were spoken for a long time.
Ace smiled softly.
It wasn't a bad feeling. Not bad at all.
Later, Ace confessed to Marco and Thatch about Roger, figuring they deserved to know more than anyone else. They took it surprisingly well- though Thatch's cries of surprise nearly woke up the entire ship. Marco happily stood back as Ace tackled the pompadoured man to the ground.
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