Day 75

After two and a half months aboard Whitebeard's ship, Ace had settled into a steady routine. He usually got his daily assassination attempt out of the way in the morning so he could have the rest of the day free to do as he liked. The rest of the crew had grown quite accustomed to the whole arrangement as well and began using the loud noises of Ace fighting as a wake-call rather than Marco's piercing shrieks.

Therefore, understandably, most of the people aboard the Moby Dick were more than a little spooked when, one day, there were no crashing noises signaling the new day. No yells or shouts or growls or even the crackling of flame that everyone had grown so used to. Some wondered if they had just slept through it, but then, there were no new scorch marks on the deck or walls, either.

"Wait… did nothing actually happen yet?" asked Miranda, one of the navigators. "You must be joking."

"Did he finally quit?" muttered Charles. "The least he could do is give the rest of us some warning. Just when you think you get used to something…"

"No, I don't think that's it," Thatch said. "If Ace held out for this long, there's no way he'd just give up with no warning. There's gotta be something going on we don't know about."

"Well, we'll trust your judgment on this one, Taichou. You know him better than we do, anyway," said Norm.

One of the three Hannahs grabbed Thatch's arm. "Y-you don't think he's hurt or something from yesterday, do you? Should we check up on him? Maybe he's sick? Does he need anything from the kitchens, or should we go get Selma or Josh, or – or, what do we-"

"Calm down, calm down. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation and you're all getting worked up for nothing," Thatch said.

"He's probably right. Besides, I'm not gonna complain. I got an extra hour of sleep today because he decided to take a break," Miranda said. "And at least we don't have to go through Marco's annoyingly shrill shit every morning anymore."

"So sorry I'm shrill. Let's give you a bird's vocal chords and see what frequency you hit," Marco growled as he stumbled out of his room, squinting his eyes against the sun.

"Sorry, Taichou," she said, not sounding sorry at all.

"You're up late, Marco. Aren't you normally the first up?" asked Thatch.

"Shut up, you. I'm afraid I got used to using Ace's banging around little an alarm clock, too. It's not like any of you can pass judgment, anyway."

"Speaking of which, does anybody know where he is this morning?"

Everyone looked around the deck, especially towards the bow where Ace usually liked to spend his early mornings.

"Hang on; lemme check the crow's nest," muttered Marco. He scrambled up the rope ladder on the mast like the true sailor's brat he was and peered in. Sure enough, there was Ace, lying on his back on the rough-hewn floor with his arms tucked behind his head and a happy smile on his face.

"Hey, man. You all right up here?" Marco asked, a bit thrown off by how very pleased the boy looked. Sure, exchanges between Ace and the crew had become somewhat pleasant in nature, but just because Ace was no longer bitter and angry all the time didn't mean he was the type to go around happy for no reason. His smiles were still rare things, and frequently fleeting.

"Never better," Ace said, sounding perfectly jubilant. Marco was downright creeped out now.

"Because there haven't been any explosions yet today, and while that would normally be a good thing, it's a bit of a change from the normal. Most of us woke up a full hour later as a result."

"Should I be saying 'sorry' or 'you're welcome'?"

"I'm not sure myself, but some are worried that you might be sick or injured or dead or deranged or possibly a combination of multiple such symptoms," Marco said.

"The first three are right out, but deranged is a title I've happily embraced since toddler-dom," Ace chuckled. "It's been applied more than once, as I'm sure you can tell."

"Oh, I have no doubt. Mind dispelling the rumours though and explaining why the sudden change?"

Ace suddenly had a look of mischief in his eye with which Marco was extremely uncomfortable. It was a look that spelled trouble every time he'd seen in on Thatch's face, but at least Thatch couldn't light the whole damn ship on fire with a thought if he was so inclined. "Oh, today I'm not really planning on starting anything. Just for today though."

"What's so special about today?"

Ace gave him a toothy grin. "Now that's a secret," he said, and with that cryptic remark, swung his legs overtop the low walls of the crow's nest and free-fell down to the deck, still looking for all the world like a cat with its favourite toy.

Marco felt a little better when he saw his crewmates stare after the boy with just as much incredulity and shock as he'd had himself. There was something profoundly strange going on, and he wasn't sure it was necessarily good.

"Really? A secret, he said?" Thatch chortled. "Ace's got a flair for drama, I'll give him that."

"I'll say he does. And what the hell do you think he meant about that whole 'not today' thing? I mean, he's been at it, what, two, three months now? Every single day! Like goddamn clockwork! And all of a sudden, 'not today'? I'm calling shenanigans," Marco growled, leaning over the table to keep others from hearing their conversation.

"Oh, quit your whining. I bet you my dinner it's nothing you need to be worried about. Ace isn't the type to fake or hide his emotions. He's pretty much brutally honest all the time, and by the time he tells you, you're going to figure out I was right all along," Thatch said.

"Don't count on it. I'll take you up on that bet."

"So loser doesn't eat dinner?"

"The loser can't drink any sake, either."

"Ooooh, raising the stakes, are we? All right, then. Done deal. Shake on it." They did, and Thatch couldn't help but laugh himself silly. Marco was not known for his talent as a betting man.

"But really," Marco continued, "if it were something totally innocent, why would he think to keep it a secret?"

"What, you never kept a good thing a secret when you were his age?"

"Hell, no."

Thatch raised an eyebrow. "You musta been a dull kid."

"Shut up," Marco said.

"Anyway, sometimes when something really good happens, you just want to hold it inside and savour it for a bit before you go and tell anyone. Kinda like when you take a big bite of the best steak you've had in your life and you just want to hold it in your mouth for a little while before you swallow because it's just that damn good."

"I just ate and now you've made me hungry again," Marco said.

"Just prepping you for how awful it's gonna be for you when you lose this bet," Thatch said, smiling.

"You're a dick and Ace is still hiding something."

"Eh, we'll know by the end of today. Maybe early tomorrow. If I'm right, he'll let the cat out of the bag by then. It'll be too good not to share, most likely. Just keep bugging him 'til he tells you."

"I'm not you. I don't hound people incessantly until they just want to smack me over the head with a skillet."

"Maybe you should start. It's a hell of a lot of fun."

Marco groaned. "You would say that."

"So."

"Hm? Whaddya need, Marco?" Ace asked. He still had that cheery smile on his face and though it was well past 5 o' clock, he had yet to try to kill Whitebeard. It had gotten to the point where crewmembers had stopped to ask him if he was feeling quite all right and if he perhaps needed to go the infirmary or something. Each time, he just laughed it off and said there was no need.

"You've got to tell me what's so important about today."

Ace looked thoughtful. "Mmmmm, I'm not really sure I do."

"Did something happen today, or what?" Marco asked.

"You could say that."

"Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"If I meant for you to know, I would've been specific."

Marco groaned, running his fingers through his receding hair. "You know, I think you're just messing with all of us."

"Really? Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, a new tactic or something?" Marco threw his hands up in the air. "I just think you're not telling me anything because there's nothing to tell."

"Oh, that's not true at all. There's definitely something to tell," Ace said infuriatingly.

"Then what the fuck is it?!" Marco exploded.

Ace was laughing his ass off now, smacking the mess hall table with an open palm. "Oh… y-you… Oh God, your face just now… Gimme a minute here…"

"It's not fucking funny, asshole! I bet my dinner and my alcohol on this!"

Ace actually looked taken aback, for all his amusement. "Is that so? Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"Huh?" Marco blinked in confusion.

"See, remember when we – I mean, when Whitebeard stopped in port about a month and a half ago?" Marco nodded slowly. "Well, I picked up something from one of the shops and sent it to Fuschia."

"Isn't that your hometown?"

"Yeah. It's my little brother's birthday today! He should've gotten his present by now. He's 15!" he said, eyes shining with pride. "I swear, a month ago, he was 7, and all of sudden he's more than twice that. Thank goodness he's still shorter than me or I'd be pissed."

Marco just stared at him. Ace… Ace had a little brother? The only reason he'd known about Ace's hometown was because he'd asked about his accent once. "You're kidding," was all he managed to get out.

"Nope! Luffy's fully 15 today!"

Luffy. Luffy. Luffy. Ace's third night aboard the Moby Dick. Shiiiiiiiit. "Wait, Luffy's your brother?"

It was Ace's turn to be surprised. "Wait, you know Luffy?"

"No; just what I've heard you say about him. I didn't know he was your brother, though," Marco said.

Ace scratched his chin. "I didn't think I mentioned him before. When was this?"

"Uhh, it was several months ago. I doubt you'd remember now," Marco said quickly, trying to cover his own ass.

"Wait, several months ago? But wasn't that when…" Ace's eyes widened. "Wait, shit – that's right! Aww, jeez," he groaned. "Just when I'd completely forgotten about that."

"Yeah. Sorry to bring that up and all," Marco said.

"Er, it's not a problem. I guess you finally get your explanation, though, huh?"

"There's that," Marco said sheepishly. "There's just one thing."

"Hm? What?"

"So all this weirdness was just for your brother's birthday?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing else?"

"Nope."

"No sinister plots?"

"None that I'd planned, at least."

Marco winced. "I'm not going to get to eat or drink liquor tonight, then. I just know Thatch is going to hold me to it. I don't suppose you'd be willing to fake a sinister plot for me, would you?"

"Well, I do declare, Mister Marco, are you asking me to try assassinating your Captain?" Ace asked in a coquettish falsetto that was more disturbing than anything else he'd done all day.

"Not in so many words, but… kinda."

Ace sighed, grabbing a knife from the table and pushing himself up. "Well, I suppose it's practically tradition now. I'd hate to ruin a perfectly good seventy-five-day-long streak. But only because it's you, Marco."

(A/N): Marco, you are so much fun to tease. Like, impossibly fun to tease. First I encase your personal effects in jello. Now this... I'm kind of a mean person, I think. Not that this was news.

EDIT: The timelines have been fixed. Before there was significant discrepancy in the the timeline of this chapter because it claimed to be day 75, day 76, and three and a half months in all at the same time. The only way the timeline works out is if it's day 75, because otherwise day 41 wouldn't be April Fools' Day. And I meant to put two and a half months instead of three. Maybe that's why I put 76 - because 30+31+15 = 76 making it properly two and a half months exactly. Keep in mind that I wrote this chapter before organizing a calendar for this fic, so of course I managed to screw up the whole thing.