Guest: Thank you! I don't look 23. Everyone tells me I look 16 or 17. I just hope it says like this when I get older and I look 40 when I'm 60 lol.
sairakanzaki: I'll always upset every 7-8 days.
Simitria: People who don't love Ace are monsters.
Something important happens in this chapter! Enjoy~
Edit: on multiple of my stories, it says the next chapter is there, shows that I submitted them, but they don't show up when going to it directly! I don't know how to fix this. So chapter 16 might now show up for a bit. Sorry about that. If anybody knows how to fix it, please help.
Ace sat in the desk he was allowed to use, trying to make a map of the island just based on memory alone. He knew it wouldn't be accurate, but he just wanted to see how it turned out. He finally realized he'd run out of ink when a stroke went dry and he moved to refill the pen with ink. He looked inside of the bottle seeing it was empty.
He sighed and stood up, walking to the supply room. They were stocked up on ink because they'd been on a great deal at the last island they visited. It had been two weeks since the mission-went-nightmare for Ace. He assumed one of the commanders said something because nobody insulted him about being wounded.
Marco had told him they hadn't said a thing, but Ace didn't really believe them. He didn't voice his disbelief, just wanting to get off of the topic and try to move on. The group he'd gone with had all been really worried when they finally arrived with striker safe and sound, but Ace had shown them he was fine. Though he didn't look fine when they arrived and rushed to see him.
He had been pale, still, and his leg was raised, covered in bandages. He looked better than he had when they last saw them, though. They were all really nice to him afterwards, and Ace thought he may have made friends. Well, everyone was brothers, but he considered some as friends. His close brothers.
Luffy and Sabo were brothers. Always would be his original brothers, so it was hard sometimes to apply that same word to others. He thought of the word friend more than not. But he didn't say that, not wanting to upset anybody. They were all family, regardless of whether Ace saw them as brother brothers.
He capped the ink bottle and was going to bring it to the room so it could be refilled later, and took out a fresh ink bottle from the crate. There were hundreds and hundreds of them in there, and Ace almost thought it was ridiculous just how much they'd gotten. Had they all run out at the same time? He didn't question it, though, and was more than willing to help lug the crates onto the ship and into the supply room that wasn't for big things or food.
He took one out and put the lid of the crate back on before he was overcome with sudden rage. How dare he. We - I - trusted him! and the ink bottle shattered in his hand, the noise knocking him out of his thought. He felt his face was hot and his eyes were narrowed, mouth in a deep scowl.
Then the feeling went away as quickly as it had come, and he was left feeling incredibly uneasy. For more than one reason. First, the context of the thought that he didn't know. Who had he trusted that he no longer did? What did this person do? It was a man, that much was clear, but there were only 1600 of them. So who was it? Or was it anyone on the crew?
Then there was the other thing that worried him. Usually snippets of thought or dialogue came and passed, leaving him a bit confused and irritated. Right then, he had felt murderous rage. If someone had been around, he wouldn't have been shocked if he just attacked them. He had never been so angry. Never, even when he learned of Sabo's murder.
It was alarming to say the least. He sighed at the wasted bottle of ink, and went to the nearest bathroom to wash his hands of it and then mop up the mess. He had some on his arm and chest as well, since the thing practically exploded in his hand. At least he hadn't melted it, too.
"What happened?" Haruta asked when he passed Ace, who had a grumpy face and a wet rag.
"Broke a bottle of ink. Made me angry," Ace lied. He wouldn't say anything to anyone about this time. He didn't know who the voice had been talking about, and didn't want to plant unnecessary seeds of doubt in his brothers towards their family. Ace could only hope it wasn't one of their own who had made him so furious.
And it wasn't just angry, it was hurt and betrayed. Something personal. "No need to be so pissy," Haruta said with a shrug, and went on his merry way. Ace went to the room and wiped up the mess. He threw the broken glass in the trashcan used when they unwrap something in there, like anything with paper or plastic packaged around it. It wasn't usually meant for glass, but it didn't matter much. It was trash, and that was a trash can.
He knew he couldn't focus on making a map now, which usually let his mind wander. He wanted to be distracted by something, wanted to not think of that haunting snippet of thought from somewhere. Future or not, he wasn't hoping that whatever caused that reaction happened anytime soon. Or at all.
He headed outside for some fresh air, but that's not what he got. The moment he walked out of the ship, a storm was right on top of them. Ace sighed, but got to work with the others for furling the sails, and tied himself to the deck so he didn't fall off. The ship was swerving from side to side in the especially violent storm.
He clung to the rope wrapped around his waist as he fought to see through the rain pelting down on them, loud enough to mute any conversation or shouting. Ace was watching the mess that were people frantically trying to run inside or tie themselves down.
Ace saw three people slip and slide to one side, and without thinking, he burnt his rope off and ran forward, skidding on the wood and grabbing onto a hand, the only one who'd fallen over the edge. He couldn't tell who it was in the wind and rain, but now both of them were hanging over the side, Ace's hands gripping the railing as he struggled to hold on in the violent waves.
He used all of his strength to lift the other up with his arm while the other held onto the wood so tightly it started to creak. Ace was able to get the other guy's hand over the side, who pulled themselves up. Ace struggled to raise himself, but when the ship violently rocked to the other side, he was thrown onto the deck, stumbling to the ratlines and wrapping his arms and legs in the ropes, holding on as tight as possible while they rode out the storm.
There was nothing to do but wait for it to pass. The sails were furled, all they had to do was last until it dissipated. Ace was soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead, keeping his eyes closed so the rain didn't get in them. But the storm did pass, like they always did. Ace didn't know who he saved, but he was exhausted and just walked inside.
He walked to his room, feeling a sleep attack coming, and just barely made it to the bed before passing out. When he got up, his arm was sore and he tried stretching it before heating himself up to dry his clothes and sheets. He hadn't even dried off before passing out. He changed socks, drying out his boots, which were full of water.
When he left the room, he was nice, warm and dry. And tired, but he just had a nap. He would be fine the rest of the day, his body was just sore from the storm throwing him around a bit. He went to the galley for a snack and found Thatch sitting on the floor of the kitchen with his head between his legs, the picture of depressed.
Ace hurried over, and asked what was wrong. Thatch looked up with tears in his eyes, and Ace was very concerned, until he held up a bent metal spoon. "My favorite spoon broke!" he cried. Ace blinked twice and took the spoon from him. It was fancy, ridiculously so. He heated up his hand as hot as he could, and then easily bent it back into place while it was more pliant from the heat.
He walked to the sink and poured water over it. "Here you go," Ace said.
"Ace! I love you!" Thatch cried, taking his spoon, so overdramatically. Ace just shook his head. "Get out of my kitchen."
"Oh, come on! I saved your spoon, let me get something from the fridge," Ace said in irritation. Thatch shook his head, and asked what Ace wanted. That was the point of looking for food. He didn't know what he wanted but he was hungry. "I don't know, I wanted to browse."
Thatch looked at him in an unimpressed way, making the teen bristle a bit. He was twenty now, the New Years party had been ruined by some massive birds stealing the entire grill, which they had to replace two islands later. It had been an interesting party, at least. "Well, since you saved my spoon, do you want the last piece of pumpkin pie?" Ace brightened at that and accepted.
He was just putting on a heaping amount of whip cream on it before Aioba came up and sat next to him. Ace sighed. "What did I do this time?" he said. Aioba had been ruthless to him after he got sick weeks ago. Luckily, his bad attitude hadn't spread too bad. Ace had been wrong, since nobody made fun of him for being sick besides a handful. The enemy-navigator looked uncomfortable. Thatch watched with interest.
"I want to thank you, for saving me," he said quietly.
"Hah?" Ace asked, not knowing what he was talking about.
"You saved me from falling over the side of the ship. I wanted to thank you." Ace looked away and said, in a stiff voice, "I would have done it for anyone." He was way past any chance of making friends with him. Months in and he had still been a complete asshole for pretty much no reason. Ace didn't threaten his position, yet he was a total prick.
He didn't say another word before awkwardly leaving. Ace dug into his pie. "Man that was hard to watch," Thatch said with a whistle.
"Everything with him is hard," Ace replied as he stuffed his mouth with perfectly baked pie. "We're way past ever being friends."
Thatch nodded, saying that it was understandable. Aioba had gone after Ace so many times he'd lost count. And commanders just had stopped scolding him. He wasn't going to stop, and Ace told them to not do it anymore. It just brought attention to what he thought of Ace, and it was easiest to ignore him.
"But it was nice of you to save him," Thatch added. Ace swallowed his mouthful and replied.
"I didn't know it was him. It was crazy outside, and I just saw a body falling over the side. Honestly, I probably would not have saved him if I knew it was him. I know that sounds bad, really bad. But I know deep down I would have purposely looked away or had someone else save him." He felt and looked guilty. Thatch was silent, so he thought he might be in trouble. It was hard to remember sometimes that his closest brother was also a superior.
Thatch rested his elbow on the counter with his chin in his hand. "I don't think that's true. I think you would have saved him even if you knew it was him. You're too kind to let somebody from this ship die just cause you hate them."
Ace chuckled. "You think too highly of me. I'm not a saint or anything."
"Nah, but you're a good person," Thatch replied simply. Ace shrugged. He didn't feel like a good person all the time. He had angry thoughts at people, he just never voiced them, even when talking privately to Thatch or Marco. "Maybe he'll leave you alone, now," Thatch suggested.
Ace took one last bite of the pie that he'd consumed in record time and said, "Maybe. That would be nice. I don't want to be friends with him, but not being enemies might be nice." Thatch nodded in agreement.
The youngest was silent for a few minutes, knowing whatever had made him so angry had not been Aioba. He wouldn't have been angry or upset over him breaking trust he didn't have with Ace. It was someone else. But he shook his head, not wanting to think about that. He couldn't tell Pops about it because he didn't know.
Ace sat with Pops often, enjoying the stories he told from experience or perhaps made up, Ace wasn't sure all of the time. But, he never shared any of the weird things that went on with his brain. All of it. Oh, he had to record what happened. "I'll be back, I gotta do something real quick," Ace said, and walked out, hands in his pockets as he headed to Marco's bedroom.
The door was closed, like always, and he opened it only to find Marco was asleep in the bed. Which was weird, since it wasn't early at all. Ace stood still at the doorway. Would it be inappropriate to walk in while he was asleep? He decided that it would be, and chose to write down what had happened later. It wasn't exactly going to be hard to forget.
So, he left the room before he got a bad feeling, of a whimpering noise, and he immediately ran to Whitebeard's room to see Stefan choking on something. He kneeled in front of him and found a very long piece of string down his throat. Ace turned the struggling dog on his side and slowly pulled the string out.
"Don't worry, old guy. You'll be okay. Then we can go see Pops," Ace said as the string finally was all the way out. He was shocked at the size of it. He found that part of the rug had been torn, and the seams had been ripped up. "What were you doing, eating this?" Ace mumbled, before he walked to the back window and opened it, dropping the string out.
Stefan was still upset, but once he realized he was okay, he ran for Ace. Ace picked him up. "Told you you'd be okay," Ace said. "You're lucky I knew about it," Ace said, feeling light inside. He might have just saved Stefan's life.
Then he dropped the dog on the bed and clutched his head, unable to stop the scream. He fell to his knees, the sharp and painful sensation in his head feeling unbearable. Stefan was barking loudly, worried about Ace. Then Marco was there.
"Ace, Ace what's wrong?" Marco asked, kneeling next to Ace on Pops' carpet and putting his hand on Ace's back. The younger whimpered again. "Shh, it'll pass. Stefan, down." The pain eventually passed, and Ace took a deep breath. "Are you okay?"
Ace nodded. "Stefan was going to die. I saved him and it changed the course, so it hurt my head," Ace explained. Marco looked baffled. "He was choking on a piece of string from the ripped up carpet. Stupid old dog." Marco put his hand on Stefan's head, looking at him.
Marco hugged Ace. "Thank you," he said sincerely. Ace patted his shoulder in response. Said he wasn't going to let their dog die if he could do something about it. He was smiling, and sighed.
"Finally, it was something useful for me," Ace said with a smile in his voice. Stefan ran over and jumped into Ace's lap, nuzzling his arm. "No more eating things that could kill you," he said sternly. Then, Stefan ran to the carpet and started gnawing on it again. Marco laughed and Ace sighed, shaking his head.
Marco picked Stefan up and Ace rolled up the carpet. "What should we do with it?" Ace asked. It was heavy and large, and clearly old. Ace wondered why the dog hadn't choked on it before. Marco suggested they use it for another room. Stefan mostly stayed in Pops' room, so if they put it somewhere else, it might be safer for him. They agreed to ask Pops what to do with it, explain the situation. "If anyone asks, I heard him from the hall." It was partly true. Before they left Pops' room, Marco stopped Ace, asking how he knew. "I heard a dog's whimpering in my head. It's lucky I was so damn close. Before we go, can I write my stuff down?"
"Of course," Marco replied, and the two walked to his room. Ace unscrewed the lamp and wrote down his angry moment and then saving Stefan. The sheet was full on the front and he had started to list things on the back of the paper as well. Once that was done and the paper hidden once more, they headed out onto deck.
When they got out, Stefan ran to Pops, jumping on his leg but too old and small to leap all the way onto his lap. Ace and Marco walked over after the dog, who was excited and then left Pops to run to Ace. "What's gotten into him?" Whitebeard wondered with a fond smile. Ace knew they would have been heartbroken if Stefan had died alone in the bedroom. Ace suddenly felt very sad.
"He has a new lease on life, so I guess he's happy about that," Marco said. Before Pops could ask what he was talking about, he explained, "Ace found Stefan choking on a string and pulled it out." Whitebeard looked shocked.
"He chewed off a piece of the carpet," Ace said, feeling awkward under the stare of the man, who then grinned.
"Thank you, son. I can't imagine what would have happened if he passed by himself," he said with a relieved sigh. Ace's face was red, and he nodded. He asked what they should do with the carpet. "Not use it again. If this old fool is dumb enough to eat it once, he can do it again." Then he asked curiously why Ace was in his room.
The youngest, now holding the excited dog, explained, "I was looking for Marco, but he was asleep in his bed, so I left and then I heard him choking in your room. So I got the string out. It was almost as long as my forearm." Whitebeard was smiling at him warmly, proudly.
"Looks like you're saving people right and left today," Whitebeard said with a laugh, deep and happy. Ace turned red and looked down at the dog, who was squirming in his arms, so the young adult put him down. Ace was no longer a teenager, after all. Nobody could call him that anymore.
The rest of the day was awkward for him. More pirates knew about Ace saving the dog than Aioba. Ace would have thought that was funny any other day, but now he was just irritated. He was hiding in the library, but hiding wasn't being made easy with the dog that kept trailing him. All day long, Stefan was on his heels. And if he closed a door on the dog, he cried and howled and barked until Ace let him in.
He tried taking a shower, and the bathhouse door closed. So, to stop the dog causing trouble with how noisy he was, Ace had left the shower and opened the door before running back to the shower where no one could have the chance to see.
Ace had been on this ship for months and yet still was uncomfortable around the others being naked. They, of course, thought it was funny, but respected him and covered if he was walking through the bathhouse. It was considerate, and Ace was glad they did that.
At dinner, he was horrified when Thatch had made him a huge cake, bringing so much attention to him. When he saw the cake with a Stefan-shaped frosting mess on it, Ace turned right around and left the room before anyone noticed. He didn't go to dinner that night, just hid in the office he was still using.
Marco came in, finding Ace making that map he was interrupted with earlier. "Hey, Ace."
"Hi," Ace replied, putting the pen down. "Did you need something?"
"If you don't like the attention, you can always ask people to stop, you know. Nobody wants to make you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed," Marco said, getting straight to the point. Ace looked away. He knew that wasn't true, they loved to make him embarrassed. He hated the attention because when he had people watching him then it was more likely they'd see him slip up. What if someone had seen him break the ink bottle earlier? That had bothered him. He hadn't been able to control his emotions.
Ace sighed, and said, "You know that's not true. They love embarrassing me." Marco walked closer and leaned against the desk.
"If it really bothers you, they won't want to do it. If they think it's just playful, joking around, then they definitely will," Marco replied. Then he asked, "Are you alright? You seemed stressed today." Ace really needed to confide in someone about his worries that morning. He knew Thatch would be more hurt and worried if he told him. Marco would probably be calm.
Of course he'd tell Thatch, but after Marco gave him advice on how to handle it. He didn't tell Deuce anymore. He… he really liked Deuce, but it felt off to be around him a lot. Like his life he'd forgotten constantly clashed against his new life and persona. He had felt guilty at first, but Deuce made him even more guilty when he told him he understood why Ace distanced himself. And that he'd always be there if he needed him.
"I lost control this morning. I ran out of ink for the map, so I went to get a new bottle, and suddenly I was so angry. I've never been so angry in my life. Ever, and I crushed the bottle of ink in my hand. If that had happened in front of other people…" Ace said quietly. Marco looked concerned.
Predictably, he asked what he heard. "I don't want to say," Ace said. Marco looked surprised, since Ace had been honest about all of his odd occurrences before. So this meant it was something bad. He was clearly really wanting to know what upset Ace.
"I can tell this is already eating you alive, Ace," he said simply, brows furrowed in worry. Ace looked down, contemplating telling him. He was right, Ace was ready to burst, needing to tell someone, have someone to confide in, reassure him. He didn't know what could make him feel better about it. He didn't know what Marco could say to make him feel better.
"... I think it was 'how dare he. We - I - trusted him'. And it was my voice, spitting it out in such a furious tone. Something bad happened some time, I don't know when, where or who I was talking about. It worries me," he explained quietly.
Marco put his hand on Ace's shoulder. "You cannot force yourself to see something, Ace. Do not dwell on this. Don't lose your trust in our family."
Ace frowned. "You didn't hear how upset I was. Someone betrayed our trust," he said. Marco asked if he could do something about it now. "Well, no, but still."
"Please, try to not let it bother you. I know what it feels like to obsess over the future, what might be a terrible future. Don't dwell on what you have no way to control. It will only tear you apart with fear and worry. That is the best advice I can offer you, Ace," Marco said emphatically. Ace looked at him, eyes flicked back and forth for both of Marco's. His expression obviously gave away his next question. "Pops' age. It terrifies me."
"Oh," Ace said, feeling bad now. He never really thought about it.
Marco smiled. "The worry has helped me in the long run. I live life day to day, enjoying it as best as I can. When Pops turned 70, I was so stressed that I managed making myself ill. After that, I shrugged off worry as best as I could while still being responsible and sensible. There is a middle ground, and you're smart and capable. I have no doubt you can find that middle ground as well," he said with a reassuring look. "I have faith in you."
Ace turned red and looked away, making Marco chuckle. "The cake is gone, you can come eat now if you want," the first mate said. Ace nodded, his stomach growling right on cue. He went to eat with Marco, feeling slightly better than he had before.