A/N: Sorry for the delay. I have actual reasons for that ^^ First this chapter is twice as long as usual so it's two-chapters in one (around 13.000 words) but I couldn't cut it in half, you'll see why. Second reason is that I'm back at uni and it's rough x) x) Third is that I absolutely need someone to read through my chapter before posting it and I don't have a beta anymore so I ask my friends but they usually are pretty busy and it takes them awhile !

Anyway, thank you for your reviews, they really keep me motivated, I hope you still enjoy the ride ! We're getting near the end actually !

NB: Thanks to every reviewers, I really enjoy reading your comments ! I'm truly grateful for them ! :D :D

NB2: I'm also in the process of editing the first chapters of this story. I had to re-read them and it's cringe worthy ^^ I don't know how you went past chapter 1 but I'm really thankful ^^ So chapter 1 has been edited for now !

Disclaimer: The poem used belongs to its author, Lamartine, I'm just quoting. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. All One Piece's characters belong to Oda. I just own the OCs and the plot.

Chapter 22: Forget-me-not

It was so like him. To do things like this. Ace didn't know how to describe it but it felt like a slap in the face. Or a punch in the stomach. Or a kick in the nuts. Whatever, it had knocked the breath right out of his lungs. He could have been dramatic and say that his heart had missed a beat but realistically speaking it seemed a bit extreme.

Ace's fingers were white from gripping a sheet of paper too tightly and his hands were shaking from his contained anger. Or from his nerves. He should tear it to shreds. Set it on fire. Bury it. It and the person who wrote it.

The paper was already crumpled in several places and if Ace didn't lighten his grip, he would rip it apart. Not that it mattered. Why was this is life? He took a calming breath and tried to empty his mind as Julia, his yoga instructor, had taught him but it didn't work.

The enveloppe, white and unremarkable had been unconspiciouly sitting in his mailbox, only his name, no adress, no stamp, written in black had stood out. It had seemed strange but Ace had taken it nonetheless, climbing the stairs before opening it.

The sheet of paper was white, neatly folded in three. It was high quality from the feel of the paper under Ace's fingers. The handwritting though, that's what had made him stop short. He had recognized it at first glance and hadn't been able to prevent his gaze from drifting toward the first lines before forcefully closing his eyes. His heart was rattling in his chest, banging inside his ribcage madly, trying to escape through his throat. But it was impossible, it would stay in his chest. Biologically speaking he couldn't throw up his heart. It sure felt like it was what was going to happen though.

"L'Isolement", Lamartine. That was what was written at the very top in Marco's curvy handwritting. Ace didn't need to read the rest, he knew what it said, knew this poem. It was maybe strange that he knew a poem from a dead French poet because he wasn't really into old foreign litterature. Yet, years ago, so many years ago, he had taken a personal development class along with Marco, all years had been mixed up and they had studied this. Ace had liked the way the poet described love and a sentence, the one that people often remembered from this: "Un seul être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé." You miss one person and the rest of the world seems empty. It was true. It rung true. The whole poem was beautiful. It depicted sadness, an overall feeling of longing and loneliness and the incapacity to live in this world anymore. Seeing this poem, knowing the words it contained, made his heart ache and his fists clench. It rattled him to his very core.

Standing in the corridor, a few steps away from his front door, he couldn't move for the life of him. He was stuck here, rooted on the spot. It was unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable. And priceless. What was wrong with this bastard? Why was he sending him such a thing? Because no one else in the world would send him this and of course he had recognized Marco's handwritting. Ace didn't want to know if there was anything else written on this goddamn letter. What was Marco trying to do? He had had his closure. He had had his fucking answers. So what was he trying to do? Rub it in Ace's face that yeah, missing Marco was like missing a part of himself? It didn't feel like that at all. Not at all. After all, Marco wasn't a part of his life anymore so it didn't feel like anything at all. So why was this hurting him so much ?

He crumpled the paper and looking at it for maybe half a second decided to just tear it apart. No need to read it. Even if the letter was actually some kind of bizarre apology, Ace didn't care.

- Letting Go -

The second time was way worse because it meant that it wasn't a fluke, some kind of one time inspiration that Ace could have forgotten once he had thrown the pieces of the letter away. No, it meant it had a pattern. It meant that Marco was trying to tell him something. Yet Ace didn't care. Not at all. Whatever Marco could be trying to say, it didn't mean shit to Ace. After all, what could he have to say? Ace would probably never know because he had thrown the letter away and certainly didn't give a flying fuck. That's why his heart didn't try to escape through his ribcage this time or that his breath didn't catch in his throat.

Once again an enveloppe had been sitting in his mailbox and Ace had been tempted to set it on fire. He didn't, first because it would be dangerous and he wasn't an arsonist, and second because there was a strange bulge – and if it was a ring Ace would go see Marco and make him eat it – and he was a bit curious.

Upon opening it, he was nonetheless tempted to make Marco eat it, not because it was a ring but because it was an acorn. What was this bastard trying to tell him? Who sent an acorn out of the blue? Looking inside the enveloppe to see if there might be a note to indicate what the fuck it meant, he found a green leaf and nothing else. Fucking cryptic bastard. What was wrong with him? An acorn and a leaf? Was he trying to make Ace solve some kind of riddle? He didn't have time to play games.

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

It had been summer, college was over for this year and they had been lying under the weeping willow, on top of the hill in the park. It had been rather hot and there hadn't been any clouds in the sky.

"So what do you want to do this summer?" Marco asked Ace, turning on his side, cushioning his face on his bent arm.

"I dunno. I want to travel the world but I really need to find a job." Ace complained, nearly pouting.

"We'll travel the world together if you want to. We could work a bit and then leave for a week and I don't know camp or something not too expensive. We're young, we can camp." Marco smiled and Ace smiled back, turning to fully face his lover. He reached out to tug a strand of blond hair that had fallen on Marco's face.

"It would be great. I'd love to travel with you. Where would you like to go?"

"Wherever you want to go." Marco replied honestly, contentment shining in his blue eyes.

"Sappy." Ace told him, flicking his nose and shaking his head laughing.

"You knew that when you started dating me."

"Well... I might not have thought it through..." Ace teased him, falling back on his back to stare at the sky, dreaming about leaving this town and seeing the world. It had always been a dream of his. To travel.

"You love it anyway." Marco teased back, winking.

"You have no proof." Ace argued half-heartdly.

"Hm. It's true, though. I'd go along with your craziest schemes. Just say the word and I'll follow you."

"You're so cheesy!" Ace complained laughing. "I'm glad though. Thank you."

"Hm."

They fell into a comfortable silence, Ace staring at the sky and Marco staring at Ace.

"So where would you like to go?" Marco asked, extending a hand to take Ace's in his own.

"I'd like to cross the Sahara on camel's back!" Ace replied excitedly, smiling at the sky.

"Fun." Marco nodded, closing his eyes and squeezing Ace's hand.

"Climb Mount Everest!"

"Cold."

"Explore the pyramids in Egypt!"

"Hm." Marco hummed noncomitally.

"Fight a kangaroo in Australia!" Ace said, trying to get a rise out of his lover who seemed close to falling asleep.

"Hm."

"Play poker with pandas in China!" He added. It would be fun albeit incredibly unrealistic. More than a fight with a kangoroo because who knew what could happen in Australia? It was an uncharted territory, full of dangerous creatures and mysteries!

"Hm."

Marco totally wasn't listening to him. He had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply. The sun was casting shadow on his face that made Ace want to pepper it with kisses but first he had to exact his revenge.

"You're not listening to me." He accused him, sitting up and poking Marco in the side, knowing that he was ticklish.

"I am." Marco said back, opening one of his eye and sending a roguish smile Ace's way.

"Sure, so what did I just say?"

"Something crazy. But don't worry. I'll come along and protect you."

"Moron." Ace laughed, bending down to kiss Marco when an acorn suddenly feel down right on Marco's forehead, startling him, his eyes opening wide in bafflement. He pulled himself up in surprise, wincing.

"Wha-..." He began before noticing the acorn on the ground.

They both looked at each other and Ace began to laugh and laugh at seeing the disgruntle look on his lover's face, a huge red mark standing out on his forehead.

"Oh God." Ace wheezed, looking up and seeing a squirrel taking off quickly. "Karma is a bitch isn't it?"

Marco was glaring at him while rubbing his forehead, muttering dark curses under his breathe.

"You should see your face!" Ace exclaimed breathlessly, doubled up with laughter.

"You should see yours once I'm done with you!" Marco threatened before tackling his still laughing lover to the ground, kissing every inch of his face, making Ace laugh even more.

"I promise, we won't go anywhere near acorn or squirrels during our travels!"

"Keep laughing, I'm not nearly done with you." Marco answered back, a huge smile on his face.

Seeing this acorn and remembering this event was... strange. Not the good kind of strange. Strange like gut-wrenching strange. It was a forgotten memory, one he had buried deep inside his skull and now it came back to the forfront of his mind. This acorn-thing, Ace had often brought it up when he was teasing his lover. He would often say "careful or an acorn will fall from the sky to punish you." And they'd laugh it off. It was fun, it was playful banter. It also symbolized their promise to travel together, Marco's vows to always follow him, whatever crazy schemes Ace would plan. It had been rendered moot though.

So what now? What did it mean? What did Marco mean by that? Sending him this acorn... was he trying to pledge a new promise? Dream on.

Standing in front of his mailbox, he clenched his hand in a fist, the acorn hurting his palm before taking a huge calming breath and releasing it slowly. He looked at it one more time and let it fall into the nearby trash.

- Letting Go -

"What's this cactus doing on the kitchen table Luffy?" Ace shouted from said kitchen, rummaging in the fridge to take out some orange juice. Why had his brother brought home such a thing? They both knew full well that plants didn't survive long in their care...

Luffy didn't reply, probably because he hadn't heard him but Ace wouldn't put it past the brat to have taken this cactus on a whim and to have already forgotten about it. Banging the door of the fridge close, he drank his glass of juice before washing it quickly, needing to lay down and rest. He was just coming back from his yoga class and felt really tired. People thought that yoga was easy but they just didn't have his teacher. The woman, Julia, had a fiery temper and would squeeze the last drop of energy out of you. Ace didn't even know if it was yoga anymore at that point. Anyway, he felt sore, and not in the good way. He took the glass to dry it with the towel but it slipped and fell into the sink. Ace grimaced and picked it up to check if it took any damage but apparently, the glass was rather resistant. Finally putting the glass in the cupboard, he decided to go lie on the couch in the living room.

He found his young brother on the edge of his sit, tongue stuck between his teeth, in the middle of playing a video games about pirates. On the screen, his character was somehow holding on even if he only had like one tenth of its life left while the ennemy was at one third. Ace felt like being evil right now. Chuckling inwardly, he sat down rather heavily on the couch and ruffled Luffy's hair rather forcefully, breaking the latter's concentration and making him swear as he missed the right moment to cast his secret attack, his character ultimately dying painfully.

"Ace! It's not fair! I'm not even playing against you! This stage is so hard, I was doing mostly okay!" Luffy complained loudly, glaring dagger at his devilish brother.

"Uhuh." Ace snickered, chin between his thumb and forefinger in a creepy villain sort of pose. "You still have a long way to go if it only takes that to beat you."

His brother launched himself at him but Ace had foreseen such a tactic and he got up in a rush, avoiding being tackled to the couch and tickled mercilessly. He began to run, Luffy hot on his heels, throwing insults at his back.

"Get back here cheater! Crook! Scoundrel!" He sure had learnt some new insults and it only made Ace laugh harder. "I'll catch you! This house is too small for you to run far!" Luffy shouted, grazing Ace's shirt as the man arrived in the kitchen.

"Eheh, too slow little brother. With skills like this it's no wonder you lost."

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't interfered!"

"Says you, your life was already hanging by a thread!"

"It's not true! I totally was winning!"

Ace was now at one side of the table, Luffy at the other and they circled around it, waiting for the other to make a wrong move. Ace was cornered but Luffy would screw up one way or another giving him the chance to escape.

"So, what are you gonna do now? You won't catch me like that." Ace taunted him, knowing that his brother would take the bait. And of course it didn't fail. Luffy's scowled and launched himself over the table at Ace. Having anticipated the move, Ace had snucked under the table and was now running for the living room, leaving Luffy to curse him on his side of the table.

"Goddamn cactus, standing in my way!" Luffy was muttering, running at full speed.

Ace looked behind him to assess how far his little brother was and found him closer than he had thought. Damn, the kid was quick! He grabbed a cushion from the couch and threw it at Luffy to slow him down. It missed him by a large margin Ace's aim being totally off. A satisfied smile spread on Luffy's face as he began to laugh. He stopped as another one hit him right in the face.

"Who's laughing now? Come on, you can do better than that!" Ace sneered, intending to drive his brother crazy, not one to let one mistake cause his downfall.

"Of course!"

Ace was now between the coffee table and the TV, back to the wall, corridor leading to their rooms on the left, front door on the right. Luffy was behind the couch, kitchen to his left, the corridor at his right. So what to do now? Ace could go out but he had slippers on and running in slippers in the streets when they were covered in snow wasn't such a great idea. Going into the corridor was a sure way to get cornered and rendered unable to escape so it was a no too. So the only solution that was viable... Ace jumped above the coffee table, climbed over the couch and tackled a pretty surprised Luffy to the floor with a war cry. His brother struggled but Ace was quick to pin him down, belly on the floor, arms held tight behind his back, sitting on his legs.

"And this is my victory little brother." Ace snickered, really proud of himself while Luffy was wingling under him, trying but failing to free himself.

"I won't surrender!" He cried out. "You'll see, next time I'll beat you, I swear!"

"We'll see young padawan, we'll see." Ace declared solemnly before getting up and extending an hand to his brother.

"If that cactus hadn't stood in my way I would have gotten you in the kitchen..." He pouted, rubbing his head which had banged a bit harshly on the floor.

"Well you bought it so it's your fault in the first place..." Ace told him. "It knew that it would die under our care and wanted revenge."

"I didn't buy it." Luffy replied simply, tilting his head to the side. "It was on the doormat, I just put it on the table."

The warm fuzzy feeling that had filled him while playing with Luffy was now gone, replaced by pure ice. He was staring at Luffy as if he had grown a second head and at the same time his mouth hanged open like a fish out of water. He hadn't bought it but someone else necessarily had. Who would so that if not him ?

It had been on their first real date which had been hell to plan because they're schedule absolutely didn't match. Anyway, they had gone on this date. Marco had arrived in the early afternoon, carrying a bouquet of flowers. Ace couldn't remember what they had been, he didn't particularly care for flowers and his laugh upon seeing them had probably tipped Marco off. He had seemed incredibly embarrassed and maybe a little vexed but Ace had reassured him that it was sweet and that they were lovely. He had given them to Sabo who was lingering not far away from the door, like the gossip he was...

"Next time, if you have to, bring me something like a cactus, it fits me more than flowers you know? Plus cactus are badass" He had told Marco. Flowers were cheesy and he didn't need them to understand Marco's feelings. That wasn't to say he absolutely hated flowers, he had a favorite one. Forget-me-nots. Ace had heard from Garp that they had been his mother's favorite, especially because of the name and Ace agreed whole heartily. They were beautiful small flowers, the color a vivid blue with just a touch of yellow and black in the center.

"But I won't be able to tell you that you're more beautiful than the flowers you're holding..." Marco had replied teasingly, laughing at his own sappiness.

"Shut up." Ace had muttered, hearing Sabo laugh from the kitchen.

Marco had never bought him flower again. He brought food because the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, or so they said. Yet, yet he had remembered that Ace liked cactus. And now what? He had decided to buy Ace one? For what purpose? It was obvious. This and the two previous "gifts". Was it to make Ace forgive him? To make him remember the good times they had together? Well, it didn't erase the bad memories.

"Ace? Are you alright? Do you know who bought this cactus?" Luffy asked, getting in his face.

"I'm … fine. It's noth-" He wanted to say that it was nothing, that it didn't matter but he had decided not lie to Luffy so obviously, not to hide his feelings and the truth. "It's probably from Marco." He finally settled for.

"Marco?" Luffy asked, somehow bewildered, he took a step back and looked above his shoulder, staring at the cactus as if it had personnally offended him, a rather mean look glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah, it seems he's trying to... I don't really know. I don't get what he is doing... does he want me to forgive him? Is that what it is about?" He asked, knowing that Luffy didn't have the answer but needing to voice out this feeling of helplessness he was feeling. What was Marco playing at? Because it sure seemed like he was playing a game Ace didn't know anything about.

"I can punch him. You want me to?" Luffy asked him, staring straight in his eyes in all seriousness.

"I don't want you to get into trouble, Lu." Ace told him ruffling his hair.

He was just so confused.

- Letting Go -

"Do you know what he's up to?" Ace asked Izo as he arrived at the coffee shop, nearing Izo's table. He didn't even greet him, just put something in front of Izo's nose, too close for him to really see anything.

The day had started as any other day. Ace had woken up rather early and had prepared breakfisrt for himself and Luffy. Once Luffy had gone back to sleep he had opened his computer, searching for jobs, even part-time, that he could apply for. He had majored in Art back in college but he couldn't draw anymore so he had to find something else. He didn't have any other qualification so it would be a drag to find something but he couldn't just sit on his thumbs and leech off money from Luffy's father. He had put this off long enough. Of course it would come as a shock to Luffy, to see Ace having another job and worse, selling his shop, but he could argue that he needed a fresh start. In a way it was true. He didn't want to lie and a white lie wasn't really a lie-lie. Well, Ace wasn't so sure, but he just couldn't tell Luffy the real reason. Not yet. He was alright for now so he could wait a little more to tell him. He knew he'd have to. But now wasn't the right time.

"Who is up to what?" Izo asked him amused, taking his wrist gently to pull Ace's hand away from his face.

Izo took a look at the picture that was now at a normal distance from his eyes. He was surprised to see a picture of his family from New Year. The sparkling banner hanging above all of their heads was dated back to 2014. No one had really changed, he noticed fondly. They all radiated with happiness, their glasses raised at the camera, making silly faces. In the foreground was a very much inebriated Ace, left hand holding his champagne glass, right arm around the waist of a visibly amused Marco. "I still have this picture too." Izo finally said, not understanding why Ace had suddenly decided to show him this particular picture.

Ace went to sit on the other side but lost his footing and banged his hips on the table making it shake. Cursing his clumsiness, he began to rub his side to make the ache go away.

"Goddamn table... I didn't think it was this close..." He muttered, carefully taking a sit to avoid harming himself further. This days he banged into everything, he soon would be covered in bruises if he kept it up...

The waiter arrived at this moment, asking Ace what he'd like to drink. Izo had already ordered for himself as he had arrived pretty early, enjoying the atmosphere of the place to work.

"A coffee please." Ace asked politely, smiling at the waiter.

Izo was patiently waiting for an explanation, slowly sipping his tea. Since his discussion with Ace, things seemed to go in the right direction and he was really happy that this change had occurred between them. With the waiter gone, Ace put the picture down and glowered at it.

"I don't." Ace said, seething.

"You... don't?" Izo replied sceptically.

"This doesn't belong to me. It was put in my mailbox." He elaborated.

"Who would put this in..." Izo trailed off before understanding what it meant. "Ah."

"Yeah, 'Ah'. So, what is he up to?" Ace asked forcefully.

"I wasn't aware that he was going to give you this." Izo said, uncertain, fiddling with the string of the teabag in his cup.

Ace wasn't waiting for more gift in his mailbox. He had checked it before going to meet Izo because it totally was what he usually did. Cheking one's mailbox wasn't something out of the ordinary. If Ace checked it thrice a day, it might be strange. Not that he was doing that, of course.

He didn't even know how he should feel about receiving this gifts. He certainely didn't feel happy. Anxious maybe, not knowing when they would stop or when they would come. This picture marked the fourth gift and Ace was sick of it.

"But you're aware of something?" Ace tried.

"Not really. I know that he wants to make amends but I don't know anything else."

"Amends?" Ace scoffed. It was laughable. Of course Ace had thought about it. Those gifts weren't unthoughtful, they weren't expensive gifts or meaningless things. They were trying to convey a particular feeling and Ace didn't want to understand that. Marco was making amends? Good for him.

"It's not the first thing he sent me."

"I don't know what to tell you Ace. I didn't know that he sent you things..."

"If he's trying to be forgiven, he's doing a pretty poor job of it."

"..."

"Tell him to stop." Ace said and maybe it came a bit pleading but he just didn't know what to do with all the feelings that had emerged. He had missed Marco, had hated him, still loved him, wanted him gone, wanted nothing to do with him ever again, wanted to hug him once last time. Not necessarily in that order. He didn't want to think. He knew that it was cowardly, to bury his face in the sand and not tackle his problems head on. But couldn't just Marco let it go? Was it too much to ask? Just some piece of mind, some respite.

"I'll tell him." Izo finally murmured, noticing Ace's confusion, reaching over the table to squeeze his hand. "I think he's only trying to show that he cares."

"I don't want him to." Ace replied.

Or did he? Did he want Marco to care? To keep sending him things? It was a complicated question and Ace didn't want to answer it.

"Okay. Anyway, we're not here to talk about him. I wanted your honest opinion about this dress that I want to sew for Fashion Week. I think there's too much lace but there's never enough lace you know?" Izo winked, pulling some drawings from his bag and pushing them in front of Ace's face.

"I don't know if you're talking as a fashion designer or as a pervert..." Ace drawled teasingly.

"I take offense to this assessement of my preference for lace, young man..." Izo replied shaking his head, amused.

The heavy air was soon forgotten as they finally began to bridge the gap between them, one step at a time.

- Letting Go -

Ace's hands were shaking rather strongly and he didn't know if it was from nerves or from his symptoms. They seemed to have increased, getting more frequent even if the medication helped. He could feel himself growing weaker, his legs seemingly giving out of nowhere more often. He had a large gash on his shin proving his newest encounter with the ground, encounter he had obviously lost.

It was either that, either the little box he was holding in his hand. It was another gift. Each and every day, Ace would open his mailbox, dreading – or hoping – for another one. It was a link to his past, sending him back to happy memories that were now tainted by bitterness. It was as soothing as it was hurting him. Marco hadn't stopped even if Ace had asked Izo to tell him to.

Opening the box, he found a small sword. The Gryffindor sword, a bit bigger than a pen, adorned by fake rubies. It was the first pricey gift he had received but it still had a meaning. A funny one. It was before they had started dating. Marco and him had been at Izo's, at a party organised by the latter.

"I mean, I'm totally a Gryffindor. The test on Pottermore couldn't be more right. I can't be a Ravenclaw cause I don't want to spend my life reading and studying. I can't be a Slytherin cause I'm not that cunning and I'm not evil. Hufflepuff would be fine, but let's face it, they're the house no one truly likes. So yeah, Gryffindor. I'm courageous and I'd totally be up to face Voldemort!"

Ace concluded his vehemous rant by making a wide gesture as if to further prove his point.

"Hufflepuff aren't that bad. They are friendly and loyal. They are like, the only ones who are well-balanced. They never cause trouble." Thatch interjected from his place on the floor.

"They are boring! You only like this house because you're in there, of course you're gonna defend it..." Ace replied laughing. "And you Izo? Marco?"

"I'm in Slytherin." Izo replied, proudly. "Your natural enemy. That's not to say I would side with Voldemort. All Slytherins aren't evil people, we're just incredibly intelligent, sly and shrewd."

"It's the perfect description of a criminal mastermind..." Ace deadpaned, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe I am one." Izo giggled before getting up. "I'll go fetch some beers, do you guys want one?"

After a chorus of agreement, Izo left for the kitchen.

"Marco's in Gryffindor too!" Thatch interjected. "How unbelievable is that?"

"Well, I think I fit the bill." Marco answered smirking, kicking Thatch in the side.

"See? That guy? Gryffindor? He's a total jerk!" He cried out, looking at Ace in astonishement, rubbing his side.

"It's not because I am a jerk that I can't be courageous..." Marco replied, kicking him again making his brother scoot back to avoid further assault.

"I like Gryffindor but I wouldn't have minded being in Slytherin anyway. I like the fact that Gryffindor's main qualities are braveness and determination though."

"Me too!" Ace agreed wholeheartidly, happy this his crush shared his point of view on Harry Potter; It wouldn't have been a deal breaker, but still. Anway, Marco liked Harry Potter and that was awesome.

"I have the sword of Gryffindor at home, so if you want you can come by and I'll show it to you." Marco proposed with a smile.

Izo chose this moment to come back and whistled loudly, a wide grin on his face.

"Smooth." He drawled, visibly delighted. "You'll show him your sword, uh?"

Marco looked at him, his eyes widening in disbelief before Izo broke into a fit of laughter, followed by Thatch and a lot of the people around. Ace fought a blush and sidestepped what would have become an embarassement by simply laughing it off too. Marco was left splutterring and making wide gestures with his hands.

"God, Izo! Mind out of the gutter, you know I didn't mean it like that!"

"Ahahah, of course, of course." Izo wheezed out. "You have to admit though, it's like the worst pick-up line in the history of pick up lines... and you just …"

He couldn't finish his sentence as he dissolved into another fit of laughter.

"What have I done to deserve that..." Marco sighed, a smile still lighting his features.

Yeah, mind out of the gutter Ace. He had only met Marco a while ago but the man was so sweet, witty and handsome, it was hard to resist. Ace wouldn't have said no though, to seeing his sword, even if Marco hadn't meant it like that. Shame, really. At that time, Ace hadn't began to act like a frightened, meek, blushing virgin with him yet. He should have simply come up to Marco and should have kissed him out of the blue. Instead, he had waited and waited, always wondering if Marco could feel something for him and always convincing himself of the contrary. Marco had actually told him – after they had gotten together – that even though he hadn't meant to show him his 'sword' in a literal way, he hadn't been able to help himself from imagining what would have happened if Ace had accepted this particular pick-up line for what Izo thought it was... Both of them had been idiots, alright.

Ace needed to take his mind off of this. This simple object held too many memories, too much laughter and lightness. It was just too much. He put the sword back in the box, he hadn't even noticed he had taken it out to run his fingers on the blade, and put the box in his mailbox. He would deal with it later. For now, he just needed to get some air and think about something else.

He had found an add for a job in a museum as a receptionist and was on his way to apply for it. Having majored in Art, it was a job he could do and he wouldn't have to walk around too much so it was a plus. For now, he had to work, had to do normal things.

Closing his mailbox, he left his building without a backward glance. What for anyway? It was in the past. And what's in the goddamn past should stay in the goddamn past. Or should it? Why was Ace happy upon opening the mailbox? Why was he smiling now, thinking back on this particular memory? It had been a funny moment. 'Had been' being the key word. It shouldn't be anymore. Yet, it still made him feel strangely happy and realising that hurt all the more.

- Letting Go -

"You seem shaken up, is there something wrong ?" Liza asked Ace as he arrived in front of the cinema.

"No, no don't worry, just tired." Shaking his head in denial even if he knew it was a lie.

She looked at him, her gaze sharp, eyes narrowed, probably knowing that he was lying. She rose her eyebrows, prompting Ace to elaborate but as he didn't reply she decided to shrug it off.

"Sy isn't here yet." She said, wrapping herself more tightly in her coat. "Probably too busy applying his make up to try and look human to be on time..." She rolled her eyes while checking her wrist watch.

She was smartly dressed in black boot-cut pants and a nice lavender pullover peeking from under her beige coat. Her high-hell boots made her nearly as tall as Ace and flattered her silhouette rather nicely. Liza was a pretty woman with a nice smile and warm brown eyes but she wouldn't be mistaken for a model. She had a military posture, always standing straight, at attention. She gave off a sort of authoritarian vibe making her look rather severe and strict. Yet once you knew her, you discovered than she had a sharp tongue, a bitting humor and was pretty kind hearted. Expect with Sy. She didn't pull any punch with him which was pretty funny to watch.

"Ah, well, it's understable, there's some work after all..." Ace replied, with a sly smile. Teasing Sy had come almost naturally, the young man was just too easy to wind up.

They both laughed and entered the cinema, deciding to wait for their late friend inside. It wasn't as cold as in the middle of winter, spring being just around the corner - a month away okay but it was still something – yet it was still pretty chilly today.

Liza went on chatting, telling Ace about a suspect that thought she was the "good cop" in the interrogation room and how she had loved setting him straight. Her smile had turned evil before smoothing into a more neutral one as she explained. Ace listened, nodding and replying when needed but not telling her about his day.

Truth be told, Ace was a bit shaken up. Upon exiting his flat, he had resisted the urge to open his mailbox. The first time when he went to get some groceries. The second time when he threw out the trash. Not the third as he was on his way to the cinema. He was just too damn curious for his own good. Or was it simply curiosity? Ace didn't want to dwell on that particular can of worms.

This time, the gift – because you had to call a spade a spade – had been a small wooden square box twenty centimeters wide. Not fancy, not particularly expensive and plain brown. Ace had used it to store the sketches he drew at Marco's place. Yet, last time he had seen it, the box had been broken. Ace had been trying to put it back on a high shelf and his hand had slipped leading to an unfortunate accident. The lid had squeaked ever since, not properly fitting in its hinges anymore and there had been a large crack on it too. Now it was fixed. The hinges were new, shiny and the crack had been filled with a sort of golden paste... was it gold? Was it real gold? Touching it hadn't given him any clue. It shone, had the color of gold but well, Ace couldn't really tell... He knew though that in japanese culture broken objects, usually pottery, were repaired with gold, silver or platinum powder and a special lacquer. It was a way to emphazises the cracks and defects of pottery, to show that damage only made them more beautiful. They were granted a new life that way.

It was strangely poectic and thoughtful... Had Marco meant it like that? Did he mean that broken things were never just that, broken, but could be mended? That they could be even better? The crack would still be there though, looking pretty but still there. Relationship weren't mended with gold. At least, Ace wasn't that shallow.

Strangely, Ace had felt warm and touched. He had closed the lid forcefully, not wanting to look at his past drawings and not needing to dwell on the feeling of warmth nestled in his gut. Nothing good ever came from dwelling anyway. Moving on it was.

Ace was relieved to be at the cinema with Liza and Sy. It would take his mind off of things. He didn't remember what they were going to watch but probably some blockbuster. Sy had chosen it after miraculously winning a bet against Liza.

The man arrived, red faced, coat butonned the wrong way, scruffy scarp around his neck. He was Liza's polar opposite. Goofy, quick to blow up and quicker to forgive and move on, kind to a fault and pretty naive. He kinda looked like a mop, tall and willowy, hair too long and disheveled, falling on his face, hiding his eyes. He had an atrocious taste in clothes but well, whatever floats his boat. Liza often teased him about his hair, threatening to get a pair of scissors but apparently long hair was some sort of fashion statement and Sy was very proud of it. He had probably as much shampoos as Izo, from what Ace had understood. Taking care of such an "impressive mane" was "hard work" after all, or so Sy wanted him to believe.

"Sorry!" Sy apologized upon arriving. "I don't have any excuses but I thought of a few if you want to maim me still..." He smiled sheepishly and looked a bit warily at Liza who was blank faced. Her pokerface was impressive it was almost scary.

"Well, I don't want to hear whatever tales involving aliens or the like trying to abduct you..." She dismissed him, turning around and making her way toward the ticket booth.

"You're jealous it never happened to you!"

"Yeah sure." She deadpanned without looking back, Ace following her and snickering.

"To make up for it, you'll buy popcorn." She added, smiling widely, her warm brown eyes shining with mirth.

Sy was left bemoaning his lack of money but Liza didn't bestow any compassion upon him .

"He's so whiny... Do you think he knows it just makes me want to be even meaner?" Liza whispered to Ace, hiding a smirk behind her hand.

"What are you whispering about? What is it that I smell? A hainous plot against me? An hidden uprising?" Sy cried out, throwing himself at them, right around around Ace's shoulders, left arms around Liza's.

She shrugged him off and, her smirk widdening.

"Nothing is hidden. I can tell you to your face what I plan to do in excruciating details..." She murmured, her smirk taking a predatory edge. Ace was laughing his ass off on the side while praying never to end up on this particular side of the woman's smile...

Those two were just priceless. He was glad to have met them. They were nice, funny and it soothed Ace to go out, have fun, talk about iddle things. Make friends. He realised that he had become rather introvert since Marco had... left.

"Oh, you're kinda making me hot talking like that..." Sy teased, a flirty smile stretching his lips, fanning himself with his hand.

"Keep it in your pants brat or Veronica will have your hide." Liza threathened him.

"I'm not scared of my sister!"

Liza didn't answer, putting her wallet back into her purse after paying. She simply rose one of her blond eyebrow in disbelief.

"Not my fault you're both monsters..." Sy pouted, paying for his ticket and some popcorn realising that he had lost this round.

Liza simply laughed, taking Ace's arm and stirring him toward the right room once he had paid.

"He's so funny to piss off. You really should give it a try."

"Thanks for sharing on the fun." Ace snickered.

"Well, it's only natural. You can't keep such entertaining material all to yourself."

They were both snickering when Sy finally joined them to enter the dark room. Even if they teased each other, sometimes seemingly in a mean way, there always was this glimmer of warmth between Liza and Sy. They both enjoyed this easy banter. Ace would have liked to see how it went with Veronica, Sy's sister and Liza's girlfriend. Apparently she was "even worse" than Liza, like the "overlord of mean, Satan incarnate" while Liza was a "minion" compared to her or so Sy had told him once. Of course Sy hadn't told that to Liza's face. He had some self-preservation instinct left. So much blackmail material in waiting...

- Letting Go -

Chocolate. It was a box of chocolate. Brown, rectangular, the name of the French chocolate shop printed in light blue on the lid. It might have been cliché to receive chocolate. It was. Not so much if Ace understood what Marco was doing. With shaky hands he grabbed the box and opened it slowly, as if what was inside would bit his fingers off. There was a dozen of little square-shaped chocolate, topped with caramelized and torrefied coconut, filled with almond praline. Ace knew because he had already tasted them. The first time they had spent Valentine's Day together, they both had bought chocolates for each other. They had bought the exact same thing. Those chocolates whose name Ace couldn't pronounce. Since then, they had decided to buy a different box each year and eat them together. They didn't need to be gifted chocolate to know that they thought about each other, they just wanted to spend time with the one they loved. And it was enough.

Closing the box, Ace couldn't help the warm feeling from spreading throughout his body while his heart ached. He couldn't eat them. Luffy would be happy to though.

- Letting Go -

Today, today he didn't have time to look into the mailbox. Every day, he checked it, relieved and disappointed to find it empty, happy and bitter to find something inside it. It was hard to really know which feeling overpowered the other. Today though, he didn't want to open it because he didn't want to get emotional. Not that he got emotional opening his fricking mailbox, but just in case. Today marked the day of his talk with Bonney. Or well, his soon-to-be talk with Bonney. He had finally decided to go see her and ask her about buying the shop from him. Ace couldn't work there anymore and knowing he still owned it, knowing that there was still a part of his life there, hurt. He hadn't made his peace with never working there again, hadn't made his peace with selling it either but what choice did he have? He couldn't just own the shop, let Bonney and Bartolomeo do all the work and profit money-wise from all their hard work. Did people do that? Anyway, even if they did, Ace wouldn't. So after debating with himself for too long, he had finally taken his decision. He would sell it and work at the museum. Maybe, getting this new job at the museum had helped him make up his mind but it was long overdue anyway. Or maybe not and he was just rushing headlong.

He didn't really know what would be the best decision but he needed to take one. He hadn't gone back to work since January, finding excuses after excuses. It couldn't work that way anymore. He was the boss so he admittedly could do whatever he wanted – he at least did the admnistrative work from home – but still, it wasn't right... Bonney was becoming a bit more insistent to know when he would come back and what was wrong with him. He couldn't blame her...

The bell chimed as he pushed the door open. The shop wasn't open yet but he still had the key and he let himself in. Bonney appeared, climbing down the stairs looking suspicious, a notebook clutched tightly in her hand.

"I don't think it would work alright as a weapon." He said laughing.

She pulled a face but shrugged, climbing down the few stairs left.

"Better than nothing. Plus it would have been a distraction. Throw it in your enemy's face and kick him in the nuts when he's too disorientated to react."

"Clever."

"Anyway, hello boss, long time no see." She greeted him, a bitter edge to her voice.

Seeing his shop after so long was weird. He should have come back. He hadn't. Hadn't been able to, letting every fall on Bonney's shoulders... of course she was pissed. He would be in her stead. Two months was a long time.

"I'm sorry." He apologized sheepishly. "I'm truly sorry for vanishing for two months, letting you deal with everything..."

She had crossed her arms on her chest, jaw clenched, looking pretty mad.

"I don't care for apology. I just want an explanation!" She blew up suddenly and then her eyes widdened and she deflated. "Okay, that came out wrong... actually it's what I wanted to say but not like that. You're still my boss and all so yeah. But an explanation would be nice."

"You have every reason to be mad..." Ace tried to smile but failed... "Let's sit down, I need to talk to you."

She looked at him askance, wondering what he was going to say but followed him in the backroom. His shop was as he had left it. Full of colors and of life. Giving it up was going to be an heartache. Was already one.

"So. Explain." She said. She had never been the patient type, always quick to get angry and shout when things weren't going her way. Yet, she was hard-working and diligent, full of energy and new ideas. On top of that she was frank to a fault, never mincing her words which in Ace's situation was pretty dangerous.

"You not showing up anymore and Kid leaving... Something fishy is going on so talk." She prompted him, probably feeling that he was taking too much time to reply.

Hearing Kid's name felt like a bucket of cold water right in the face. A freezing one. His smile froze and he wasn't able to prevent if from dropping entirely. Ace had tried not to think about this man for the past month or so. It had been more than a month since he had last seen him. Since the man had told him the truth. Without realising it, he had clenched his fists tightly, fingernails digging into his flesh painfully. Of course his name would came up in the conversation. He had worked here along with all of them, this two-faced rat. He was Bonney's friend. Kid had resigned right after seeing Ace, dropping his resignation forms in the office. Bonney had just told Ace he had and had sent him the papers for him to sign, which he had. Good ridance. Yet he hadn't explained anything to her, stating that he didn't know. Now, face to face, he knew she had picked up on his reaction. She was looking at him with keen eyes, sizing him up.

"Do I have to torture you to get it out of you?" She said.

"No. No need to go to such length..." He replied, trying to paste a smile on his face but failing. "Kid..." The name still tasted like ash on his tongue and he wanted to scrub his mouth with soap to get rid of the taste. "Kid left."

"I know that. You said you didn't know why. Obviously you were lying."

Sometimes, being frank led to being pretty insensitive.

"Kid left because …" How could he put it? What was the best way to say it? Because he ruined my life? Because he's a treacherous snake? Because he somehow loved me enough to want to make my life a living hell? "Because he told me he set me up to make Marco believe I cheated on him." He finally said. "Out of love for me." He added as an afterthought, because somehow this made it even worse. Love wasn't supposed to be twisted like that. In a way, Ace could have prevented everything if he had realised earlier that Kid had feelings for him. Yet it wasn't his fault.

"Anyway he's not the reason why I wanted to talk to you." He went on, because he didn't want to dwell on such things.

Wait, wait, wait!" Bonney cried out, rising suddenly, making her chair tumble back. "He did what?"

"... You heard me the first time Bonney." Ace sighed, not wanting to elaborate. It was exactly why he hadn't told her in the first place. Kid could have. He could at least have had the courage to tell Bonney what he did. But he left, his tail between his legs.

"He made Marco break up with you?" It was more a statement than a question, but she still rose her voice at the end of her sentence, in total disbelief. Well, even Ace hadn't seen it coming when he had been told.

"Yes." He replied nonetheless. It was more complicated than that and had Marco not wanted to, he wouldn't have but the bottom line was exactly that. Kid had made Marco break up with him. "He did. Because apparently, he wanted me to love him back. Can we not talk about it anymore?"

"I..." It was obvious that she wanted to ask more but she bit her tongue and held back. "Yeah, okay, if you want. But if you need to talk or to vent... I'm here, 'kay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Don't worry." He said mecanically, practiced words coming easily out of his mouth. She seemed to notice but nodded nonetheless.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I want to sell you my shop."

To say that her mouth touched the floor in bafflement would be exaggerating but it nearly dislocated from the shock. She made a pretty funny face, truth be told, and for once Ace had managed to make her speechless. Which was definitely something to be proud of.

- Letting Go -

"See you next week, then." Dr Lenoir said, her doctor smile firmly in place. Neither stifling nor too solicitous, simply kind and well-meaning.

"Yeah." Ace nodded, getting up.

It was always the same thing in there, or a variation of basic questions and exercices to know how he was. Have you taken your medication? Are you tired? Have you kept a journal about your symptoms? Let's weigh you. It was always the same answers. Yes. Yes. Yes. Could we not? He had lost weight, not much, but still. It was frightening for so many reasons. It had been five months since he had been diagnosized with ALS. Time had flown by without him even being aware, with all the drama that had been going on in his life. Which was still going on.

"Hold on a minute before you go. I just wanted to let you know that I can schedule some sessions for rehabilitation soon. It would be helpful if you went." Dr Lenoir spoke up as he was about to open the door.

"Rehabilitation?" He asked, turning around.

"Yes. I know you have taken up yoga classes and it will help you in the long run but rehabilitation is done with a doctor who will know exactly what to do." She explained patiently. She was a good doctor, this woman. Ace liked her even if she always was the bearer of bad news.

" I'll think about it." He said simply. He didn't want to think about that yet. Was he already at that point of his disease? Was it too soon compared to other people? Or really late? He didn't know. He hadn't googled it. In a way, he didn't really want to know. All he knew was what his doctor told him and it was fine. It was the truth, Dr Lenoir wasn't one to sugarcoat things. She had told him that this disease evolved in different ways depending on the people and that she couldn't predict how.

Probably noticing his turmoil she added.

"It is not progressing faster than normal, it simply is the course of the treatement. You have to stretch your muscles to prevent them from atrophying too fast."

She didn't tell him not to worry, didn't offer him any kind of platitude and Ace was thankful for that. He nodded. Atrophying. His muscles would atrophy. He knew that of course but he couldn't imagine it. Didn't want to right now.

"Have a nice day." She said, nodding back.

"Thanks. You too." He left the room, sighing tiredly. It would never stop and it was tiring.

He walked quickly, not stopping before being in front of Sabo's room. He wasn't going to bother his brother too long today. He was just here to bring him flowers. Sabo loved flowers. He had once attempted to turn their appartement into a greenhouse, or so it had seemed to Ace.

"Hello Sabo." He greeted the man lying in the bed. "I came bearing gifts today. I had to throw the tulips away last time so I brought an orchid. It's white with tiny little purple spots. You don't need to water it much so I think I'll be able to make it survive awhile. We'll see how that goes..." A small laugh escaped him. "Anyway, nothing new under the sun. I've already told you about everything happening in my life last time so not much to say. Ah no I forgot. Bonney sent me a message. She finally agreed to take the shop. Well, agreed... She's stubborn so she said that she wouldn't buy it, she's going to hold on to it till I snap out of whatever mood I'm in and come back... She's kind underneath her harshness..."

It had moved Ace to the core, receiving such a message. Bonney hadn't wanted to buy his shop she didn't have the money she had told him. He had argued that he would rent it to her and make her the boss but she had just glared at him and told him it wasn't happening any time soon, who was he kidding? She had agreed to act as boss for now but nothing else. She was waiting for him to come back. She didn't know anything about Ace's condition and she was holding on to the shop... to the thing he had created from the ground. To his dream. He felt warmth spread throughout his body. Ace was gonna make it so that the shop would be hers once he was gone.

"On another note, because I also kinda forgot, or maybe I wanted to but it doesn't matter which one, Marco left a gift in my mailbox again. I don't know what it is. I didn't look. Luffy was with me and he grabbed it before me, refusing to hand it over. He's actually pretty protective. I let him have it because it's not as if I cared about those gifts, right? Anyway, I think Lu checks the mailbox too... I didn't ask and he didn't tell me... I should. I should thank him. He has become strong, our crybaby of a little brother. You'd be proud..."

Sabo would be. He would be a proud mother hen, still packing Luffy's lunch and tuck him in at night because he was fussy like that. He was really protective too. The three of them were but Sabo... it's the quiet one you have to watch for. He could turn into the mama bear really easily when his brothers were threatened... So he probably would have gone and punch Marco in Ace's stead by now. Surely. He wouldn't have let this situation go on as long as Ace had... In a way, he was letting it go on, not telling Marco outright to stop. Why wasn't he? He knew, in a way. And it made him sick. He felt cherished. Wanted. Marco was making efforts. For him. That was the answer. It wasn't healthy. He knew it wasn't. Because it should feel nice, should fill him with a warm feeling. It did, but it also came with a bitting sensation of cold and hurt. Deep-rooted hurt. That was the reason why Luffy had taken the giftaway from the mailbox this time. He probably had done it a couple of othertimes since Ace had told him that Marco sent him gifts.

"So that's it for today. I have yoga class tonight so I have to hurry back home to pick up my bag. See you brother."

Ace ruffled Sabo's short hair before leaving. He had cut it awhile ago and his brother definitely looked better like this. Before it was as if he had put a mop on his head. Not nice at all. Even the nurses were impressed by how better looking he was now so Ace was quite proud of his skills with scissors. He had of course been helped by a kind nurse and had his hand shaken, she would have been there to take over. He opened the door, closing it gently before sauntering down the corridor. Yoga would be fun tonight. He was eager to see Sy and Liza. He checked his wristwatch to see how much time he had to get ready and realised he had to hurry to be on time. Looking up he noticed someone coming his way and realised too late who it was.

Trafalgar D. Water Law... It was becoming a bad habit seriously... A habit Ace was all too keen on breaking... Had the man nothing to do in this damn hospital? Why did he always have to prowl down corridors, looking gloomy and fed up with the world? Ace didn't need to see his face every time he was there. Okay the man worked at the hospital but it was big enough for them never to have to cross path...

He refrained from scowling because he had decided to make some efforts for Luffy's sake. He could see that Luffy cherished him and his brother usually wasn't wrong with his assessment of people... As much as it pained Ace, he pasted a smile on his face and waved. He fucking waved. And the bastard had the gall to frown and nod, passing by him without even aknowledging his attempt at politeness. The nerve of it! Ace had tried to be as cordial as possible and maybe his smile looked like a grimace but sue him, he couldn't work miracles. Anyway he wasn't going to call him back only to argue. He was above such things now. But he was still pretty pissed off from this affront. Fortunately for them both because Ace was about to turn around and sneer something along the line of "nothing bitchy to say today?" Law opened a door and stepped inside a room without further delay. Well, his verbal lash out would have to wait. For now, Ace had to hurry up to go to his yoga class.

- Letting Go -

He was sick of himself. Sick of opening his mailbox like a lost puppy waiting for a treat. If it really was a treat and not a kick. Half filled with dread, half filled with hope, he opened it. He was sick of it. With shaky hands he took the package from the mailbox. It wasn't heavy, was as big as his hand and somehow rectangular. In four strides he was in front of the bin, holding the gift above it. He was sick of this. He couldn't let it go on. He let it fall and it landed in a rustling sound, not the sound of finality Ace was waiting for. He was done, anyway. Turning around he went back to his flat.

It had to stop. It had to stop. All this, everything he received, it was making him crazy. It brought back memories, it made his heart ache and his lips pull into a bitter-sweet smile. Every time. He couldn't deny it. It made him happy. And he hated that. He didn't want those gifts to make him happy. Didn't want Marco to be the cause of his smile. He couldn't let that happen to himself again. He couldn't be swept up, couldn't be coddled like this into forgiving Marco. More and more, it was were he was heading. He knew that. The anger at finding things in his mailbox had faded as time went by. Marco sent him thoughtful things, wanting Ace to remember, to think back on what they had, to make him wish they had that once again. And it worked because Ace did remember, did think back on what they had. As he had realised in Sabo's room, it made him feel cherished.

Yet, yet it wasn't meant to be. All those gifts, all this supposed kindness was just cruel because even if he admitted that his anger had faded, the hurt hadn't. Each time he opened his mailbox, it felt like a knife was resting above his heart awaiting a moment of weakness to strike. Each time there was something inside, the knife would sink into his chest slowly, really slowly, lovingly maybe, before being twisted with glee – no one would twist a knife already embedded in the heart if it wasn't to be cruel. Then, it was pulled out, or maybe wrenched out, blood escaping everywhere, pouring out of his chest, gushing out madly till there was nothing left of him but the shell of a human being.

It hadn't mattered at first, Ace had decided not to care, had tried not to care. He had thought it was just a fluke, that Marco would stop. The man hadn't. He had kept on sending things and Ace didn't know how long it would go one but he couldn't take it anymore. Marco was trying to bridge the gap by stuffing Ace's head with memory. Yet they were all teinted by what happened afterwards. What did Marco think? That he could mend the path by sending him memories? Why was he insisting? Why was he still trying? He had to stop. Something was going to give at some point and it probably would be Ace's psyche.

Picking up his phone, hands shaking he composed a number taking a couple of shaky breaths. As soon as the call was answered he made his demand clear.

"Give me his number."

"Wha- Ace?" Izo's voice sounded through the phone, clearly surprised.

"Give me his number Izo."

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just want to talk to him. Give me his number, now." He was probably a bit harsh but Izo hadn't been able to make Marco back off. Ace hadn't asked him again though.

"I – what do you want it for?" He sounded unsure, even if he probably knew exactly why Ace was asking.

"I need it."

"... I -" Izo sighed before relenting "Yeah okay. You have something to write on?"

"Yes."

Marco had changed his phone number. Ace knew that. Had known first hand when he had tried to call him all those years ago. When he just wanted an explanation. When all he had gotten was a voice saying that the number had been discontinued.

Ace's hands were shaking badly now. He took a few careful steps and sat down on the couch, back straight, unable to relax. He was about to do what he should have done sooner. What had prompted this, on this very day, he didn't know. All the hurt, all the longing, all the feelings bottled up inside him. It had just exploded. He couldn't take this anymore. He had been happy but now he was just tired.

"Hello. Who is this?" His voice was as business-like as ever. Cold, professional and it made Ace want to punch him.

"..." He couldn't answer. He hadn't really talked to him properly for so long. He knew what he wanted to say. Yet, yet he couldn't get the words out.

"How did you get this number, it's my private line..." Marco's voice sounded again, pissed off this time.

"..."

"Is this some kind of prank? I'm hanging up."

"It's me." He said simply and maybe it was stupid, believing that Marco would recognize his voice. He would probably say something like "duh." It wouldn't fit his personality but well, when faced with such an answer people often got fed up pretty quickly.

A shaky intake of breath followed.

"Ace...?" His voice was unsure, it had lost all trace of coldness.

Ace took a huge gulp of air and it felt like swallowing glass. It was tearing his throat apart, filling his mouth with blood.

"Ace, is that you?" He seemed eager. What for? Was this serious?

"It has to stop." He said simply, trying to be as emotionless as possible but probably failing, his voice raspy and distorted by too much feelings finally getting free.

"Wha- What's wrong?" Why were people asking him that today? He was fine. He was doing fine, if only those "gifts" could stop coming on his doorstep, he would be better. Truly.

"You have to stop sending things." He elaborated, not giving much of anything, wanting to be as quick as possible. No need to linger. He had to make him understand. To make him back the fuck off. Let Ace forget and heal. Away from him. He wanted to be happy on his own. He couldn't bear to be happy because of him. Not now.

"But I -"

"Stop. I don't care. You stop or I put a restraining order on you." Ace said, voice as blend as possible. He might have pulled it off quite well this time.

"..." Marco was silent on the other end, from the shock or whatever but Ace didn't care. He didn't let himself linger any longer and disconnected the call. He didn't need to hear Marco make excuses. He had told him what he needed to say. He had made his feelings clear. Now Marco just had to take a fucking hint. He couldn't drag all those memories out in the open when everything was still so raw. He couldn't do that. It wasn't fair. It wasn't.

So why did it hurt like hell to hang up after hearing Marco's voice, devoided of any hatred, full of warmth and lingering feeling? Why was it so hard to stop his tears from falling down his face and for his heart not to fricking break. He didn't know it had still been whole but now that he could feel it breaking apart, he knew that it had always been in his chest.

He had needed to do it, had had to cut all ties to Marco because all those memories hurt too much. He couldn't let go of the past, he couldn't go on as if nothing had happened. He couldn't overlook anything and maybe that wasn't what Marco had been trying to say but nonetheless it had drag back too many things that hurt like a bitch. He hated Marco. Yet he loved him. He couldn't concile those two things, couldn't pinpoint what it was he truly felt. He was lost because he didn't know what to do. Because it hurt too much to think about whats ifs. What if he said yeah okay let's try again, or what if he said I hate you go away. Or maybe just go die. Or simply I can't forgive you. I'm sorry I just can't. Or I'll try to forgive you because I love you. But would he be able to forgive him? He didn't know, he didn't have a single fucking clue. What did people do in this sort of situation? Would they forgive Marco? Would they hate him forever? Would they wish him dead? The question was not what would other do though. It was what he wanted to do, for himself and no one else. Marco had put him on the spot by sending him those things, knock-knack, trinkets, not worth anything really but it meant so much to him. To them. It symbolized their past together. But they couldn't go on thinking about the past. The past hurt, it was filled with grief, longing, hurt. Those two years had happened. Those two years would always be there. In their eyes, in their hearts. It was for the best then, to have broken the last link that tied him to Marco.

But what did he truly want? Not what he should do, not what was the best for him, just what did he want to do? Give him another chance? Was there any chance? It all came back to that. Was Ace ready to accept and go on despite the pain? He didn't know. He would wait and see, because right now he felt empty, worse than all those years ago because he had done it. He had shut that door and thrown away the key. A restraining order was a last ressort solution. Something that would prevent Marco from coming near him forever.

He couldn't think. Couldn't know if he made the right choice. If there was a right choice. He took his phone and earbuds and left his home, intending to walk around. Walking always helped, it allowed his mind to concentrate on just walking, counting his breath, one, two, three, four, one two three, four. Walking in synch with them. The world was just a blurry mess all around his eyes.

- Letting Go -

The shrill sound of the phone broke Luffy's concentration. He had been trying to get the recipe for a chocolate cake right. With flour all over his shirt and face, he sported a rather disgruntled look on his face, wondering how on earth this flour was resisting his best attempt at being mixed with the eggs.

Ace had been gone for awhile. He had been talking on the phone and had left, earbuds firmly in his ears, stating that he needed some air. For more than a month, he had been gloomy and tired. At times, it was fine, he smiled and laughed, played with Luffy but at others he would sport his gloomy-face, or so Luffy had dubbed it, eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled into a perpetual frown, eyes shining with a deep-rooted sadness. Even Luffy could understand. Ace had told him that Marco kept sending him things and even if they were nice things, it seemed to drive Ace mad. The cactus was still on the kitchen table even if it had declared war to Luffy by sticking its neddles in his tender fingers, he liked it nonetheless. Plus Law had patched him up which was always fun.

Luffy wiped his hand on his apron before going to fetch the phone.

"This is Luffy!" He stated in a booming voice. His brothers had always told him to stop doing that, but he kind of liked it plus people often stuttered right after and it was so damn fun.

"Hum, hello. Am I at Mr Portgas'?" A feminine voice asked, her tone uncertain.

"Yes! I'm his little brother but I can take a message." He replied. There was a little pad next to the phone for times like this because Luffy often forgot what he was meant to pass onto his brothers. They had thus invested in this little notebook in which Luffy could write messages.

"Okay well, I'm the Mr. Rumbar's secretary." She stated in a professional tone.

"You mean Brook?" Luffy asked surprised to hear his friend's name.

"Hum- yeah..." She stammered. "I'm calling to tell you that Mr Portgas' will is in order and that we made the necessary changes he requested concerning Mrs Jewelry Bonney and the the tatoo parlor Spade."

"His … will?" Luffy asked, his voice faint.

"Yes. I'll send it by email and he can call us back if there's anything amiss."

Luffy didn't know what to say. He might not be incredibly clever and sometimes a bit dumb yet he wasn't that stupid. A will? Ace had made a will? Luffy knew what it was. It was a paper on which you wrote what you'd like to happen after your death... Was Ace... ?

"Sure." He said tonelessly.

"Thank you. Have a nice day." She said before ending the call, leaving Luffy feeling incredibly cold.

What the actual fuck?

That's it for this update ! I hope you liked it ! Feel free to leave a review !