Marco didn't know how long he had been in the crow nest. All he knew was that by the time he had calmed down enough to leave, the sun was already shining brightly overhead.

"Oh, hey, morning, Marco! Slept well?" Vista asked him cheerfully as soon as he left the crow nest. Marco smiled softly.

"Yeah, I did, yoi. Thanks for asking, yoi."

"Are you sure?" Vista narrowed his eyes at him. "Your eyes seem puffy... Did you actually sleep at all? Because if you didn't, I'm going to be very upset. I heard that lack of sleep can cause swollen eyes."

"I did, yoi." Marco assured him, internally cursing the ever so observant swordsman for noticing. "Are my eyes that swollen, yoi? Hm… Maybe it was the sun, yoi."

"Unhealthy diet causes swollen eyes too, you know. I didn't see you at breakfast." Curiel said, his tone accusatory as he walked over. Marco just chuckled.

"I just wasn't hungry, yoi. Don't worry, I'll be there at lunch, yoi." The pair nodded in satisfaction.

"Good, because if you're not there, we'll send Thatch over to make sure you eat. End of discussion."

"Don't worry, yoi." His voice was soft as he managed a smile at them. "I'll be there, yoi." No sooner had the pair left than Haruta walked over to him.

"Hi, Marco!" He greeted cheerfully, Marco nodding back in greeting. "I'm just curious about something. You've been sleeping in the crow nest since you came. Sure, you have your own locker in your division's locker room and you actually use it even though you don't have a lot of belongings – which reminds me, Izo's been saying that he's bringing you shopping at the next island we stop at, don't tell him I told you – but why don't you sleep with the others in your division?" Marco just gave an awkward chuckle, not knowing how to tell Haruta that it just felt weird to be bunking with the members of the first division when he had been their commander in their past life with his own separate room. (Also, Izo's bringing him shopping? He shuddered to think of the clothes Izo will no doubt try to buy for him.)

"It just feels a little awkward, yoi." And of course, the keen-eyed little swordsman clearly did not buy it and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Is it because you're uncomfortable sharing a room with others? I mean, I guess I would be too, if I suddenly had to sleep with the rest of my division. Maybe you can bring it up to Oyaji, he might be able to do something about it, like getting you your own room or something."

"No, it's alright, thanks for your concern, yoi." Marco quickly dismissed the suggestion. "I would hate to trouble you, and I have no problem with sleeping in the crow nest, yoi." Because at least in the crow nest, he could have the privacy he was so used to as a former First Division Commander with his own room, and he could easily avoid the members who trigger so many memories in him of who they were in their past lives. "And besides, it would be unfair for me to be the only one with my own room, yoi." Haruta just shrugged nonchalantly.

"All the commanders have their own rooms." Marco flinched instinctively, silently cursing himself for the reaction.

"Yes, but I'm not a commander, yoi." He pointed out, trying to hide his discomfort. Haruta pursed his lips, as if he wanted to say something, but instead decided against it, shaking his head.

"Lunch is ready. Eat with us?"

"Sure, yoi." Marco agreed readily, grateful for the change in topic.


"Hey, Marco!" As soon as Marco entered the mess hall, a voice yelled at him, and he looked up only to see Thatch stomping up to him with a frown. "You weren't at breakfast today! Care to explain that?" Haruta quickly slipped away, not wanting to be involved and being more focused on getting food. "You know you have to eat your meals properly! And you don't get to argue on this with me, because I swear, if you do, I'm gonna-" Marco cut him off with a small smile.

"I won't, yoi. I'm sorry for skipping breakfast but I just didn't feel up to it, yoi. That's why I came for lunch instead, yoi." Thatch huffed.

"Fine. I'll accept that." He sighed, uncrossing his arms. "I'm just happy you're eating at least."

"Would be a waste of good food if I didn't eat it, right, yoi?" Marco chuckled softly. "What about you, yoi? Have you eaten, yoi?"

"I will once I make sure everyone is eating well."

"Just don't forget to eat, yoi." Thatch laughed.

"You're the last person I want to hear that from." He said with a smirk before walking away, oblivious to Marco raising his eyebrows at him.


That night, Marco couldn't help but replay the events of that day as he lay up in the crow nest, staring at the night sky. It was something he's been doing since he joined the crew. He would compare the reincarnations of his family to the family in his memories, finding the similarities between them. Their similarities reminded him so much of home, and he took comfort in it, even though he had to remind himself that this new crew isn't actually his family every so often. It was also a way for him to remember the family he had sworn never to forget as he went through every little memory, matching words and moments to conversations and incidents of that day. He shifted slightly into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes in reminiscence, a fond smile dancing on his lips.


"Oyaji." Marco breathed out as he took in the sight of the large old man with the signature curved moustache, sitting at the edge of a cliff, enjoying the gentle sea breeze. A dog, tiny in comparison to the man, sat at his side. "Stephan." Despite the dog's old age, its ears picked up on the whisper and perked up in response. It was up on its feet in an instant, hoping around and barking up at the tree where Marco had landed and was perched on in Phoenix form.

"Stephan." The man spoke, his voice a low rumble, barely glancing back. "Come back over here. You're too old to be chasing some random bird." The words were like knives stabbing mercilessly into his heart. He had no doubt the man was Whitebeard, reborn again just as he said he would be. But why would Oyaji call him 'some random bird'? Why isn't Oyaji fondly calling him his son, like he always did? Why isn't Oyaji welcoming him with open arms, like he always dreamed Oyaji would once they were reunited? Could it be that Oyaji doesn't know who he is?

"Stephan." The gruff voice called out again as Whitebeard finally turned around. "Who is that? You better not be bothering that stranger." Marco could feel the tears rapidly forming in his eyes. When did he get down from the tree? When did he switch back to his human form? None of it mattered. All that mattered was Oyaji, sitting right before him, calling him 'some random bird' and 'that stranger'. It was just too much.

Choking back a sob, Marco morphed into his Phoenix form and took to the skies, tears trailing behind him, glittering in the sunlight. The bitter reality hit him hard. For so long, ever since his family died, all he could think about was seeing his father and brothers being reborn and becoming a family again. It was the only thing holding him together and preventing him from falling apart into pieces, and with just those few words in that short encounter, it snapped.

Marco soon found himself flying over a small, deserted island. When did he reach the island? How fast had he been flying? How far did he fly? He didn't bother with an answer. The encounter felt like it happened a long time ago, while simultaneously feeling like it just happened seconds ago. He crashed into the ground, sobbing and gasping for breath, tears flowing freely down his face.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be my sons and I love you all the same."

Oyaji didn't remember him. He was just 'some random bird'. He was just 'that stranger'.

"As long as you have that mark, know that you will always have us, your family, at your side."

The mark on his chest felt like it was on fire. Where is his family? Why are they not by his side?

Screams of pure anguish tore from his throat as he clawed at the mark on his chest hysterically. He felt numb. It was like the world around him had come into a standstill, a deafening void rapidly consuming him. It felt like chaos. It felt like silence. It felt like he was being devoured whole. It felt like he was being eaten from the inside out, bit by bit. It felt like it lasted for an eternity, neverending, and he was losing himself with every passing second.


When Marco snapped back to his senses, he could see nothing but blue. Since when did it become morning? A splitting headache made itself known as he sat up, but it was gone in an instant as his powers activated. He surveyed his surroundings, and all around him was red. There was what seemed like tattered remains of skin and lumps of flesh among the gigantic puddle of blood he was sitting in. His memory came back to him in broken fragments, hazy and unclear. The only thing that he could remember vividly was that he had never felt so utterly alone, than he ever did in that moment.

Panic surged through him suddenly as he frantically placed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart stop. His tattoo. He had ripped his tattoo to shreds. The mark that yelled to the world that he was part of the Whitebeard Pirates. The mark that served as the undeniable proof that he was part of the family.

He had ripped it up with his own hands.

He swallowed, and apprehensively forced himself to look down. It was still there, he released a breath he didn't realise he was holding. The mark, the familiar tattoo consisting of a cross with an upward crescent, just as he remembered it. His shoulders slacked as relief washed over him. His mark was still there. It had not been erased. His family was still with him after all.

He would not let it be erased, he thought firmly to himself as he stood up. (He was slightly thankful that at least his bottom half had remained relatively intact throughout the ordeal so he wouldn't have to wander around naked.) Even if his family no longer remembered him, as long as he remembered them, they would live on within him. It would never be the same as having them being there physically, but it'll do. For now, yoi, he thought as he gently ran his hand across the tattoo.

As long as this mark never fades.


Next chapter is up! I hope this serves as an explanation as to why and how Marco knew that his family's reincarnations didn't retain their memories from their past lives! And also, I hope Marco's breakdown(?) isn't too confusing! I wanted to show it from Marco's point of view, how it was all chaos and stillness mixed together and how nothing he did registered in him.

So, enjoy, and leave a review to let me know what you think!