Welcome to Chasing Red! I absolutely love Ace as a character, and this idea has been plaguing my mind for the longest time. I hope that you guys will enjoy reading this fanfic as much as I enjoyed writing it, and reviews, favorites, and follows will be greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy ~

"Please don't go Ace," her voice cracked, golden brown eyes pleading, staring deeply into his onyx ones, brimming with tears.

Of all the things he was leaving behind, he would miss staring into her eyes the most.

"I have to," his voice unyielding.

"Ace, even if you don't want to listen to any of us, please listen to her!" Marco yelled.

The rest of the crew roared in agreement.

"I have to do this. That traitor was under my division, and I can't let him just spit in the face of Pops and get away with it!" Ace lost control for a second, soft flames engulfing him as he tried to steady the anger in his voice.

She was losing hope, and the pit in her stomach only sunk deeper.

"Please, Ace, please! I have a bad feeling about this," she felt tears well up in her eyes as she placed a gentle hand on Ace's shoulder.

Ace shrugged her off, brazenly turning around before she would make him change his mind. She was just too damn convincing sometimes, and he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when the blood of his friend had just been spilled.

"I have to go," and with that, he swung his green bag over his shoulders, jumped off the ship and onto his small boat, before speeding off.

All she could do was helplessly watch him turn into a speck in the distance. The pit in her stomach continued to grow, until all she could feel was an ominous darkness, threatening to suffocate her. She sunk down where she was standing.

"He'll be okay," Marco said, placing a gentle hand on her head. "Ace is tough," a distant look in his eyes.

She looked up, but gazed past Marco, refusing to look him in the eyes, "This time it's different Marco…I-I can't help but feel like something's wrong."

Silence greeted her, and she could tell that Marco felt the same way.

Slowly, people began to move away, the loss of Thatch still heavy in the air. Even after everyone was long gone, she refused to leave her spot, head buried in her hands as she shivered uncontrollably, trying desperately to shake off the negative energy that seemed to consume her.

Please be safe, Ace.

Family is not an important thing. It's everything

-Michael J. Fox

3 years ago

Kiara Skye had never known life before the Whitebeard Pirates – who her biological parents were, if she even had family out there, where she came from, if Kiara Skye was even her real name. But what she did know was that she had family now, and that was really all that mattered. Pops was the only father she had ever known, and he had given her such a beautiful new life that she was content on being ignorant of her former self. Of course, the nagging feeling of curiosity never left her, and on occasion, when the rest of her crewmates were boisterous and drunk – like now – she would fall into a half-drunk stupor, trying hard to remember life before amnesia. Like always, it never worked, and because she was left as clueless as ever and twice as annoyed, she just downed more beer, forcing herself to be wasted enough to forget about it altogether.

"Rough night?" A man with pineapple hair plopped down next to her, sober despite of the few beers he had recently chugged down.

Kiara blushed when she turned around and was face to face with his well-toned chest.

She had had a crush on Marco since the day she arrived. It was a crush founded on respect and admiration, and above all gratefulness to the man who helped her through her toughest times. A silly crush that Marco knew about, but pretended to be ignorant of.

"Just thinking about life," she casually said, taking another large swig of beer.

"Whoa, easy there Kiara," he laughed, a twinkle in his eyes. "Last time I remembered, you're a lightweight."

She grew bolder with each gulp of liquor.

"I'm not the stupid kid you found stranded and confused years ago, so stop treating me like one," Kiara pouted, her vision beginning to blur a little.

Marco stared at the young girl in front of her. No doubt she had matured into a beautiful young lady – golden brown locks, slightly tanned skin, gorgeous brown eyes that reflected the sunlight. A lot different from the half-starved, scraggly ten-year-old they found on the brink of death eight years ago. Being a guy, he found his eyes drawn to her well-developed chest, and curvy figure…but felt instant guilt when he realized what he was doing. While he never discriminated by age, pulling hot chicks whether they were 18 or 40, his brotherly instinct would always kick in with Kiara, and he couldn't help but see her as anything but his little sister. After all, he had practically raised her.

"You'll always be a brat to me," he teased, but stopped short when he realized that Kiara had passed out onto his lap.

He sighed, it was going to be a long night for him. But he knew that Kiara would have an even rougher morning – after all, she had the worst hangovers, and considering how much she had drank tonight…

A four-year old little girl looked up at her mother, on the brink of tears.

Large, ominous figures stood by the door, and a mother sat on the bed next to the daughter, back turned away.

"Mommy," she asked, "why doesn't daddy ever come to see me?"

The woman turned around, except there was no face where there was supposed to be. Only darkness.

"Well, because he hates you dear."

She shot up from bed, her head pounding and mind racing. She was having nightmares again, and although she couldn't make sense of it entirely, she knew that they had to do with her lost memories. Her inner subconscious was digging up scars of her past. Scars that she couldn't be certain were real or not, but the dull pain she felt in her heart told her that they were. But as hard as she tried to remember more and distinguish a meaning, her mind only hit a brick wall.

This is the worst hangover yet, she thought silently to herself, cursing her own stupidity. She knew better than this, for heaven's sake – yet time and time again she would drink until she passed out, waking up with a killer headache and drenched in sweat due to nightmares that she could never piece together the meaning of. She didn't know if she wanted to recover her memories. After all, if she truly did have a family out there who cared about her, she would never have been found half-dead at sea.

"Rise and shine, Kiara, or else you'll miss the island!" Thatch yelled, barging into her room. Kiara groaned loudly as she buried her head underneath her pillows.

"Thatch, how many times do I have to tell you, knock before you come in!"

"Yoi, it's time to get your lazy ass out of bed," Marco sauntered in, standing underneath the frame of the door, hands crossed against his toned chest, shirt unbuttoned as always.

Never wanting to disappoint Marco, Kiara grudgingly got out of bed.

"Ey, why do you always listen to Marco but never to me," Thatch said, pouting.

"Because Marco would drag me out of bed if I didn't listen," she said, half grumbling, half yawning.

"…and also because Pops has errands for us to run. Besides, it's already noon," Marco replied lazingly.

"I'm pretty sure you volunteered me to Pops just to spite me. You know how bad I am with hangovers," she mumbled. She was not in a good

mood today, and would much rather stay on the boat for the rest of the day.

"I'll leave that for you to decide," he said cheekily. "Be ready in ten, Kiara."

As Marco left, Kiara could only grumble angry words under her breath.

Thatch smiled. The way Kiara would complain but never go against what Marco had to say was cute. "I left some food for you at the dining

hall," Thatch said gently to Kiara.

"Thanks Thatch, but I'm not that hungry," Kiara said, head peeking out under the pillow.

"Well, I'll just leave it out just in case," Thatch winked, before leaving Kiara alone to ponder in her thoughts and deal with a headache that

seemed to get worse every minute.

"Marcoooooo, I'm tired and hungry, and I refuse to walk any further," the 18-year old beauty huffed before sitting down, lips pursed.

"Yoi, if you didn't take us to the wrong area in the first place, we wouldn't have spent all that time walking back and forth."

"Well, this kind of errand-running stuff shouldn't even be our jobs anyways! You're first-division commander, and I think I've proven myself

worthy enough to be ranked relatively high on the Whitebeard crew food chain. Besides, you guys worked me to the bone doing this stuff

when I was first part of the crew. I deserve a break!"

"Humility is a good thing to have, Kiara," Marco half-scolded, finding her outburst more humorous than alarming.

"Humility my ass. I worked hard, so I should get my reward for it!"

"If you think that's how the real world works, then you're in for a rude awakening," Marco said, before lightly scuffing the girl's head.

She sighed. Marco always tried to keep her in check. Just like an older sibling. "You know I was kidding, Marco," Kiara gently touched his arm, before turning on her charm. "So can we please get food now. I promise we can finish the errands right after, and I'll even carry all of the stuff when we get back-"

She had barely finished her sentence when Marco briskly stopped at a bar where almost all of the Whitebeard pirates were, boisterously partying for no apparent reason once more.

"We were on our way here anyways," he said with a lazy grin. "Now what did you say about carrying all the bags?"

"You-you bastard. You planned this!" Scolding herself for being caught off guard so easily. "It'll be a miracle if I don't develop any trust issues," she grumbled.

Walking into the party, Kiara and Marco saw that the party had already been going on for quite a while. It was only six, but people were already passed out. Others were dancing and singing, obviously under the influence of alcohol. Thatch only danced like that when he was drunk, and she didn't know if her eyes could take in the scarring scene anymore.

Thatch quickly caught sight of them and came over, coming in between the two and putting his arms around their shoulders.

"What took you two so long, I was almost scared you got by a sea king or something!" Thatch said hiccupping, obviously not having been worried at all.

Kiara shrugged Thatch's shoulder off.

"Well, it would have been nice if you had come to help us, Thatch. I mean, honestly, to think that all you guys have done today is drink and party is unbelievable to me, and don't even get me started abou-" Thatch cut her off by shoving a mug of alcohol into her hands.

"Lighten up, Kiara, it's a party," Thatch said, before dragging her deeper into the crowd. Kiara never really liked parties, and she could only helplessly plead with her eyes for Marco to help her. But Marco laughed silently as Kiara got sucked deeper into the vortex before her small body disappeared altogether.

Marco made his way to the less crowded part of the bar, drinking silently with some of the quieter members of the crew.

Kiara was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. A tiredness she could endure because of the giddiness of having just had fun with her crew. She sat alone at a table, chin in hand and eyes closed with a light smile gracing her face. It was nice that she was able to let go. And it was nice to have people she cared about who reciprocated her feelings of devotion. She had a nagging feeling that she wasn't very loved when she was young.

Kiara looked over to where Marco was sitting. He was next to a gorgeous brunette who was obviously very into him. And she could tell that he was into her, too. Doe eyes, plump lips, and a bombshell body – the girl was the whole package. Her hands rubbed circles on his thigh, body leaning toward him, cleavage purposely angled towards him in her barely-there bikini top.

What hurt the most was that the girl was almost the same age as Kiara. She knew Marco had reservations about having anything more than a sisterly relationship with her, but Kiara thought logically that it was because of her age. Now, she realized that it could just be because Kiara was too childish. Pretty, but not beautiful. Cute, but not sexy.

She looked away, but took small glances every once-in-a-while. It was obvious that her good mood was ruined.

Thatch slid silently beside her, so quietly that Kiara didn't even notice the cook until he started speaking.

"You know, Kiara, it's not healthy to keep pinpointing one guy. Especially one that you know won't reciprocate your feelings."

She looked down. She was embarrassed, and a bit angry. For all he knew, Marco could potentially like her. Never was a very strong word. But of course Thatch knew that she liked Marco. The whole crew probably knew, and it was all just a show to them. Look! There goes cute little Kiara again, following Marco around like a lost puppy.

"Keep your options open, Kiara. Remember that the sea is big. In fact, love might just be right under your nose," Thatch chuckled, giving her a big hearty smile.

Thatch left the heartbroken girl, but in his mind, he knew that Kiara would get over her first heartbreak fast. Truthfully, Thatch didn't even know what Kiara saw in Marco. He was average looking at best, with his big ol' pineapple head looming over everyone. In fact, if he was to say so himself, he was much better looking than Marco….

Kiara sighed, staring at her own reflection in her mug. A flick of her finger and the water was disrupted. After the hangover yesterday, she had learned her lesson. At least, for today she had. She looked up to steal another glance at Marco, but to her surprise, a blonde young man stood before her.

"Mind if I buy the pretty lady a drink," the teenager said with a sly grin.

She was just about to say no, thank you very much, but then she remembered Thatch's advice: Love might just be right under your nose. Maybe this was her prince charming, finally come to save her in her time of need.

She gave him a charming smile, "Non-alcoholic, please."

"Fine by me," the pretty boy smiled.

Kiara stormed out of the building. She reminded herself to hit Thatch a couple times in the head for his stupid advice.

"Stupid, stupid Thatch!"

Men were disgusting, vulgar, dumb idiots, and Kiara remembered why she never really found anyone other than Marco attractive.

"Absolutely no respect," Kiara muttered under her breath.

As soon as the handsome teenager sat down with her, he immediately started making advances. No small talk, no getting-to-know her, just a bold advance as he went into steal her (first) kiss while groping her thighs.

She was so stunned that she didn't even have time to push him away.

Kiara couldn't believe that this was how she lost her first kiss. It was supposed to be special…

…underneath the stars…

…burning flames of passion that engulfed her…

…heart stopping…

…butterflies fluttering.

Instead she felt like retching as the disgusting smell of his rum-infused breath still lingered on her lips. She roughly tried to wipe it away.

But at least she had the satisfaction of landing a hit on him. After he started groping her breasts, reality snapped back in and she punched him. Hard. In the face. So hard in fact that she was pretty sure she bent his nose in the other direction.

He deserved it, she thought bitterly to herself.

But she felt absolutely humiliated. She had always been a prideful person, and to let somebody do that to her was absolutely degrading. She had quickly ran out of the bar, but not before she heard him scream at her, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

She could ask him the same thing.

She walked along the shoreline, looking up at the stars. It was times like these that she wished she had thoughts of her mother to comfort her. She wished she at least knew her mother's name. But she didn't even know her own. A mother would know what to say, and how to comfort her. She had been around men for so long, that she missed the feminine touch. Being a pirate didn't come easy for her, and she had a sick feeling that her lifestyle before was far from what it was now. She remembered her first kill – how she wouldn't come out of her room for weeks. Blood on her fingers, and she couldn't wash it off no matter how hard she tried. If Kiara had to be real, she wasn't cut out for this life. She was forced to. She had to grow up to survive. And she could only be grateful that Marco had found her and not some of the other bloodthirsty pirates out there. Growing up as a Whitebeard pirate was hard, but at least she had a happy life, one founded on love and devotion rather than bloodshed and hatred. That's why having one-night stands were also against her deepest core values. Letting somebody she didn't love take her. Perhaps she had been an aristocrat when she was younger; otherwise she didn't know where she had developed such strong attitudes.

It was getting late, yet store-side shops were still in full hustle and bustle. The island was a tourist island, and anyone – whether traveler, marine, or pirate – was welcomed.

Looking at each of the small side stands, nothing caught her eye until she noticed a glimmer in one of the stands in front of her.

She walked up to the small booth, looking at the shimmering glass bracelet before her. It was nothing special, but she felt an instant connection. Hollow on the inside, delicate glass on the outside. Funnily enough it reminded her of herself.

"How much for this," she held it up to the storekeeper.

"Blah, you sure you don't want to look at the other items? I'm sure a beautiful pearl bracelet would suit a pretty girl like yourself more than that crusty old piece of glass."

"Yeah, I'm sure," she said firmly.

The shopkeeper looked surprised, before shaking his head. "Five belis, I was trying to get rid of it anyways."

Kiara walked away with her purchase, her mood lifted. Five belis for a beautiful glass bracelet. Now she just had to figure out how to do what she wanted to do with it. She tucked it in the pocket of her shorts for now.

When she walked back on to the ship, it was already past midnight.

Almost everyone was already back on the ship, either already asleep or preparing to sleep.

It was then that she decided that today was the day she confessed her feelings to Marco. It was now or never, and she desperately needed to know if he felt the same way, or at least, felt something for her.

She walked to his room, a path she had tread on more times than she could count.

She was just about to open his door when she sensed with her haki that there was more than one person there. Kiara pressed her right ear against the door, and could hear a woman moaning through the door.

"Oh, Marco, faster!" the voice whimpered.

Kiara blushed a deep crimson, her back against the wall as she breathed in heavily. She walked away, shock. What else did she expect? Marco was a pirate. He did pirate things.

She rarely cried. And she didn't cry this time, either. No matter how much heartache she felt.

Kiara slowly backed away before running back up to the deck. She needed fresh air to clear her mind. On her way back she hit a crewmember square in the chest

"Watch where you're goin-," a man yelled, fist in the air, before stopping upon realizing it was Kiara. "Kiara, where've you been all day? Been looking all over for ya."

"Sorry Vista," Kiara replied, trying to hide her emotions. "Do you need something?"

"Pops wants the commanders and some of our stronger fighters up and early tomorrow. Apparently this kid is challenging pops to a showdown, and he wants us to be there. We're heading over to that island tonight."

Kiara looked surprised. "Why does he need me? I'm definitely weaker than some others on the crew."

"Yeah, but your devil fruit might come in handy, just in case the kid gets beat up too badly by Pops," Vista winked.

"Who's this idiot trying to challenge Pops anyways?" Kiara asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Name's First-Fist Ace. Apparently he's been causing up a storm for the navy. All over the newspaper lately."

Kiara scoffed. "Yeah, well he can't be too bright if he's dumb enough to go against someone like Pops. I'll give it to him though, he's got guts."

"I doubt Pops will actually get to fight him. Apparently Jinbei's already engaged in a battle with him."

"Well, either way, the kid's dead."

Vista said a quick goodnight before leaving Kiara alone. She sighed, plopping herself near the side of the ship and looking up at the stars. A storm of emotions was brewing inside of her. She thought of her mom, yet she had no memories to remember by. Her emotions fluctuated the rest of the night, from sad to angry and back to depressed. But no matter how down she got, all she had to do was remember that she was not as screwed as Fire-Fist Ace. And that made her instantly feel better.