Ace is caught off-guard when Brok thrusts his stick forward.
Man, he's serious about this, he realizes. Brok was going to fight him.
"Brok, we don't have to fight," Ace says after avoiding a thrust.
Ace's dodge didn't deter Brok in the slightest. Brok stabs his stick forward in a practiced move. For the briefest of moments - in the blink of an eye - Ace sees a different weapon in Brok's hand. It was clear to Ace that Brok was a swordsman. Judging by the stick in his hand, Brok most likely preferred a light sword, and he clearly had natural talent.
It reminded Ace of Luffy.
However, unlike Luffy, there's a calculative glint to Brok's eyes. Brok relied on technique. Ace could see it in the way he moved with his feet. Luffy, on the other hand, relied on raw instinct.
Both, Ace thinks as he leaps backward, still have room for growth.
Brok frowns the longer Ace dodges his attacks. Brok might be talented with the sword, but Ace had something far more precious. Experience.
"You're not getting it," Brok growls as he stabs, lunges, and thrusts. "I didn't want to fight, but you forced my hand!"
"I didn't force you to do anything," Ace swears.
Ace takes a smooth step to the side before Brok pierces the air and slices. Brok erupts into a flurry of attacks, and Ace dodges every single stab.
One, however, skims his cheek.
Oh, nice, Ace admires. I didn't even see that one.
Then, he backtracks, and realizes that Brok was using armament haki.
"Hey, hold on a second," Ace begins.
Brok cuts him off with another slice. Ace hops back before it can stab through flesh.
"Hey, hey, hey!"
Ace steps to the side again, grabs Brok's stick, and tries to pull it out of his hands.
Ace didn't know how Brok had made a blunt stick into a sharp one, especially when there were no slim edges, but he wasn't going to just stand there and take it. Ace had already learned a long time ago that he shouldn't underestimate his opponents. Even if he usually had the advantage over them.
"Let go!"
"It's dangerous to wave this thing around! It could really hurt someone!"
"What – you – stop treating me like a kid!"
"You are a kid," Ace says.
Brok gets angry. "I'm doing this for your own good!"
"I don't think this is good for anyone," Ace says before ripping the stick out of Brok's hands.
Brok doesn't let that stop their fight. Brok cries out a shout, throws himself at Ace, and –
Brok falls right through him.
He let his emotions get the best of him, Ace realizes, it looks like he doesn't have a good grip on armament haki.
Ace takes quick advantage of the situation.
Ace sits on him.
"You –! Get off of me – I'm warning you!"
Ace had known that Brok was a kid after reflecting on all their interactions, but nothing could confirm that fact better than this very instance. Brok wasn't pretending to be someone else. Yes, he might have fake gray hair, a face caked in old man makeup, but he was acting like a teenager throwing a tantrum.
"I'll throw you off!"
"You will?"
Ace was genuinely curious.
"Yeah, watch, I'll do it right now!"
Ace looks down at Brok as he attempts to get up. Brok tries to push himself off the ground with strength that he lacked. To Ace, it looked as if Brok was fooling himself, thinking that he could possibly throw Ace off with those scrawny arms. Brok didn't eat enough to wrestle with Ace.
"I guess you can't," Ace says.
Brok collapses.
"This is stupid," he says, "you're stupid."
Ace doesn't fight the smirk on his face. Brok really was just a kid. The fact that he'd masqueraded as an adult this long, that he'd been able to fool everyone, it was pure skill. Brok's height was the only thing that gave away his true age, but no one had thought about it because Whitebeard's crew was diverse. Ace's pop had all kinds of children. Short, giant, slim, fat, female, and male. Brok fit right in when he came aboard.
"I'm not stupid for wanting to put an end to this," Ace says. "It doesn't have to be complicated. Just – come home with me – yeah?"
"No," Brok is stubborn. "I can't. I already told you that I can't."
"Why?"
Brok answers without a second of hesitation. "I don't want to be with your freaky crew!"
Brok sounds so certain about it. Unfortunately, for him, Ace remembered what he'd looked like just a few minutes before he'd initiated a fight between them. Brok had looked like he didn't quite believe what he was saying.
"Brok, tell me what's really troubling you," Ace demands. "I'm tired of playing these games. I need you to speak plainly and honestly."
Ace can feel Brok grow weaker beneath him. Brok was losing the will to fight. Despite the front he was trying to put up.
"I can't," he whispers.
"You can," Ace insists, "Tell me what's wrong. I want to know why you thought that – when you spoke earlier – that things wouldn't end well if you stuck around."
"I can't…" Brok gasps for breath.
"You can," Ace encourages, "I know you can do it if you try."
"I can't breathe," Brok wheezes.
Ace blinks as Brok goes completely limp. It takes him a moment before realizing that he was literally suffocating Brok. Ace scrambles off him with a slack jaw and wide eyes.
"Brok?"
Ace shakes him.
"Brok? Are you okay?"
Brok's head rolls limply. Ace leans down his head to press it against Brok's chest.
He still has a heartbeat, Ace thinks with relief, feeling a tad guilty that he'd knocked out Brok by sitting on him. Ace should have realized sooner, considering Brok's prior struggle, and all the breath he wasted while exerting himself.
Well, this could be a good thing, all things considered. Brok wasn't trying to hurt him anymore. Ace could rest easy knowing he'd just sustained a cut to the cheek.
Ace examines Brok's face for a long moment before reaching down to smudge his make-up. Ace starts peeling prosthetic wrinkles.
"This stuff can't be good for you," he mumbles as he tosses the fake skin aside.
Ace keeps picking at Brok's face until a youthful countenance is revealed. Ace slides a hand behind Brok's head, lifts it, and takes a long look at his kid brother's features.
Ace feels the fires of determination ignite in his soul.
"It's okay, Brok," he whispers, leaning his head down to bump it against Brok's, "we'll figure this out together and you won't have to be lonely anymore."
Ace keeps their foreheads pressed for a brief moment before rising off the ground. Ace bends over to lug Brok up, toss him over his shoulder, and adjust his weight.
It was time to get off the island.
Ace starts to think about the logistics of carrying Brok on his Striker. While he knew it could carry the weight of two people, Ace wasn't sure if it'd be a comfortable ride, not for the amount of time they'd end up spending on it. Ace wouldn't be able to take care of Brok properly.
Ace thinks over the dilemma as he wanders into town. If anyone thinks it's strange that he's carrying a homeless man on his shoulder, they don't comment on it, and proceed to go about their business as usual. Ace doesn't put much thought into their willful ignorance. It's not his main concern.
Ace cuts through an alleyway to get to the docks.
"Hey, you, with the hat!"
Ace pauses, turns around, and eyes a strange-looking gang in trench coats.
The leader steps forward into the light, unveiling his short brown hair, a pair of star-shaped sunglasses on his face, and a fancy pirate hat. Ace sees a familiar looking logo printed on the front, but he's not quite sure as to where he'd seen it before. It was clearly a pirate symbol.
"Give us your valuables, money, and anything you may possess on your person!"
"Boss, stop, this is a mistake!"
Ace's eyes land on a terrified looking individual.
"Huh? I didn't ask for your opinion!"
The terrified man, wearing a blocky set of shades, points a finger in Ace's direction as if to communicate something serious. His hat jingles with the movement of his body, probably because of the bell attached to the tip, but Ace didn't care much for his accessories. Ace was getting bored.
"That's Fire-Fist Ace!"
Ace brightens.
"Oh, you know me?"
Ace watches as every single one of them freeze.
Dead silence. Ace thinks it's a strange time to imitate a group of statues.
"Huh, well," Ace sniffs, "I don't have time to talk right now. I've got to get to the docks!"
Something in his sentence sparks life back into the group because the boss, who looked blue in the face, was turning on his heels to give his crew a harsh whisper. Ace can't pick up much.
Whitebeard – decimate – our ship – and wrath doesn't make a lot of sense to him.
Ace decides he's had enough of idling before picking up a stroll. Ace makes way to his destination, happy to spot Striker floating in the distance, but then he lays his eyes on a magnificent wooden vessel. Ace is hypnotized.
Hey, maybe I can find the people who own that ship and hitch a ride! It'll be safer for Brok!
Ace looks around the dock for the owners but doesn't spot a single soul nearby.
"Hey, hold on, wait, Mr. Fire-Fist, sir!"
Ace turns around to face the same group of people who'd tried to borrow his money.
"Excuse me, uhm, esteemed Fire-Fist," the boss says, rubbing his hands together nervously, "I'm sorry about what happened earlier. We – uh…"
"Mistook you for someone else!" A lackey claims.
"Right, we mistook you for a friend of ours," the boss laughs with strain. "I didn't mean to get in your way!"
"Oh?"
"If there's anything we could do to make it up to you, aha, let us know!"
Ace hums in thought.
Finally, after a relaxed silence (not so much for the group), Ace decides to ask a question.
"Do you have a name?"
The boss smiles like a timid fly. "John," he says.
"John," Ace repeats. "Do you know who owns that ship?" Ace gestures towards the docked vessel with the tilt of his head.
John pales.
"Uh – yes – that's my ship."
Ace couldn't have heard better news.
"Yeah?" He can't believe his luck! This was exciting! "That's convenient! I wanted to ask you for a favor!"
"Is that right?" John sounds faint.
"I was looking for a way off this island!" Ace says. "I was wondering if you'd board us for a few weeks! Until we can get home."
John stutters a line of indecipherable nonsense.
"Of course, you can!" Jingly-hat man says. "You can stay as long as you want!"
Ace was delighted! This was wonderful news!
"That's great! You have no idea what this means to me!"
"Haha, well, as long as you don't destroy us on the spot, we'll do anything!" Jingly-hat forces out with a stressed smile.
"Huh? I wouldn't destroy you – uh – what's your name?"
"John," jingly-hat says.
"John," Ace acknowledges. "I don't know why you'd think I'd do anything like that. I'm probably one of the friendliest guys you'd ever meet!"
Ace finishes his sentence but then he back-tracks in the conversation. Now that he thinks about it, the boss was named John, so that meant there were two Johns in this small crew. It strikes him as interesting.
"That's crazy," Ace says. "It must be confusing to have two Johns!"
"Try five," someone scoffs before a hand is slapped over their mouth. Ace notices that it's a young man who'd spoken. Like his companions, he had a trench coat, sunglasses, and a strange looking hat. It reminds Ace of Luffy because it was woven with straw.
"Wait – you guys – you're all named John?"
Ace squints his eyes.
"No," their sixth member announces, "my name is Bob."
Ace scrutinizes the short round man who cowers underneath his gaze. For a moment there, Ace had thought that he was dealing with the John Pirates, but when did the John Pirates have a sixth member named Bob?
"Wow, for a second there, I thought you guys were the famous John Pirates!" Ace laughs. "Isn't that ridiculous?"
"Uh – yeah," John, the boss, squeaks.
"I should have known better," Ace barks in laughter, wiping a tear away, "the John Pirates would never look as weak as you guys! Plus, they'd have more of a presence, and they wouldn't have someone named Bob on their crew!"
"Right," John Jinglehat agrees weakly.
Ace laughs to himself and shakes his head.
"Well," Ace shifts Brok's weight on his shoulder, "I'll just leave my buddy up on the deck so I can hook Striker up to your vessel. I think we'll be good friends after this voyage!"
Ace leaves without giving the crew a chance to comment, but it didn't look like they had anything to say to begin with. Ace had left them positively frightened. Not that he knew.
Ace holds true to his word and lays Brok out on the deck. After some hard labor, he ties Striker to John's ship, and smiles up at the sky. Ace's request to leave dock is answered immediately, and the John sailors pull from the harbor with haste. It was as if they wished to please him. As if he had a sword to their throats.
What a silly notion.
Ace lets his eyes drift down from the sky and spots a feminine figure standing on the beach.
It was hard to make out her features from where he was standing, but there was something off about the woman's presence. Ace was pretty sure she was smiling at him.
As if aware that he was looking at her, the woman raises a hand, runs it through her blonde hair, and then offers a wave.
It feels menacing for some reason.