Chapter 1
…
"When you come, you cried and everyone smiled with joy;
When you go, smile and let the world cry for you."
-Rabindranath Togare
…
"But…if your coming means your passing, what should you be expected to do?"
- Gol D. Ann
…
Once upon a time, there was a woman.
She was Portgas D. Rouge, a delicate yet high spirited woman with flowing strawberry blond hair and fiery brown eyes. In the tiny island of the Southern Blues where she lived, she was respected and loved dearly by her fellow islanders.
One day, she fell in love with a man named Gol D. Roger.
He was a man with a heart as big as his hair is shaggy. With an omnipresent huge grin and idealistic words that never failed to enrapture her with its beautiful painted images, Rouge fell hard for him. Roger was a world renowned pirate, but even that did not stop the love that blossomed between them.
Together, the loving couple brought a pair of twins into this world.
They were Gol D. Ace and Gol D. Ann.
This is the story of Gol D. Ann.
…
I died.
I died an unfulfilling, meaningless death.
It was not as if I passed away trying to rescue a child from an accident or even a slow killing disease. In fact, the concept of those possible ways to go sounded far, far sweeter, since I would have at least been able to share my last words or be proud of the way I went.
No.
I died from a heart attack, an unfortunate result of health and genetics which stole away my life in a matter of seconds.
It happened so suddenly without warning.
There I was, an ordinary teenage girl walking around in the streets of a busy city when suddenly, my heart squeezed and tightened. It is an indescribable feeling, comparable to someone clenching down mercilessly on your heart, yet even that is insufficient to show the pain.
I faltered, I staggered, and I fell.
The agony took my sheer breath away. I clenched my heart as I reached out for help, tears falling down my cheeks and silent screams of anguish escaping from my gaping lips
– Helphelphelphelpsomeonepleasehelpme!–
The passerbys yelled in alarm. Someone called for an ambulance. A doctor in training charged forward, shaking my shoulders desperately and urging me with all his might to hang on.
–I could see it in his eyes when he took a look at me for the fifth, tenth? time. With hope and light seeping away from those frustrated eyes of his, I subconsciously knew what was happening–
"Don't give up!" I read from his lips.
–Yet I could only think about the things I have yet to do, my heart tumbling deeper into the pits of my stomach the more he tried to yell out loud –
"No. Nononono…"
–Give up. Please give up. I begged in my mind–
"No! Stay with me!"
-However, through that quaking voice of his, nothing managed to stop the looming shadows that filled my vision, tendrils of a dark abyss dragging me down into oblivion.
I struggled. Really, I did.
I struggled to keep my best efforts to heave my chest up in a mimicry of respiration. No air entered my airways even then, and there and then, I thought I could hear some parts of myself laughing helplessly and tearfully at my pathetic attempts.
The pain was overwhelming.
The pain flooded my every senses.
The pain…stopped…?
And I died.
…
Being reborn as Gol D. Ace's younger twin was not a skip in the park.
For months, I found myself floating in the thick liquid which held my tiny frame upright. I was wrapped in the silky and velvety warmth which was supposed to my mother's womb, a thing which oddly enough, gave me a sense of security. Still, I gasped. I strugged. And I wiggled to get away from the other being in this confined space who shall later on be known as Portgas D. Ace.
Ace was one clingy little thing, even as a baby…foetus thing. With grabby hands always wandering around in this suffocating liquid, he was always brushing up against me, feeling me up. Of course, I do not know the identity of this soon to be Ace then so I did all I could to avoid those clingy appendages.
Leave it not to be said that in the rare moments when the pangs of loneliness became too much to bear, I would cling back onto his clutches, hanging onto them for my dear life and sanity. Ace never refused my touches, much to my unending relief. Instead, he accepted them willingly, holding on tighter to me as if sensing my agitation and pain.
Seven months, I recall reading somewhere, was the time when the foetus stops moving due to insufficient space. You could only imagine how it is like to have a twin stuck with you in this hell hole.
My preoccupation for survival, however, took away what complaints I might have. I rolled myself further up into my twin, willing myself to ignore how unnatural this position is in my new body and how barely an inch of space is left between us. My twin, the affectionate little rascal who I have gotten fond of by then, must survive at all costs. It would be damn selfish if I stole his life away just because I am too greedy or something.
Nine months, I knew, came when I was rocked into consciousness by Ace's movement.
As he shifted to face downwards, head pointing to the earth, I followed his motion, knowing that it should be about time for us to be born. Outwardly, I shifted diligently. Inwardly, I sighed a thousand times with relief, grateful for the escape from this tiny space.
Little did I know what was about to come.
…
Someone up there must definitely hate me.
I could barely bear the burn of humiliation when a sharp slap came down onto my bum, eliciting a loud cry from me.
This is okay, right? Getting oxygen into my lungs should not require more than a cry, right? Pleasetelllmetheyarenotgoingtodosomethingmorehumiliatingthanthis. (Please tell me they are not going to do something more humiliating than this.)
I jinxed myself, I realized, when the midwife parted my legs and got an eyeful of my privates.
Inwardly, I wailed in shame whereas on the outside, I only flushed redder than a tomato, closing my legs shyly. …Needless to say, after today, I am so never going to get married.
After a round of weighing, measuring, and cleaning, I was finally wrapped in a baby pink towel and handed into the hands of the woman who I have been anticipating for quite a while now.
One slender hand wrapped around me, whereas on the other, my twin was held.
For the first time ever, in the dim light which illuminated the room, we took the opportunity to examine each other, eyes squinting with all the effort we needed.
I was only mildly surprised to find that my twin was a whole lot bigger than I was. Given the position I have been locked in for far longer than I wanted (a position which made getting necessities far harder than it should be), it was of no shock to me. Still, no one would not feel a sense of despair when she finds out that she shall never be bigger than her twin. It's just the way twins are build, I suppose.
Looking at the fluffy cheeks, sincere onyx eyes, and a head of several strands of raven hair though, I decided that everything I sacrificed up in those long, gruelling months was not for naught. Just knowing that he would grow up with a normal psyche, not shunned, made me happy. Not to mention, I haven't died in the process.
My twin examined me for a while as well before smiling a painfully adorable grin, reaching out for me.
"The smaller one is a female and the bigger is a male." The midwife, an old woman, announced grimly. "With how long they've been in you though…I'm not surprised that this may happen. That girl may grow up to be a lot smaller compared to other babies, including that one."
Ace cooed at me and I smiled.
Another man added gruffly.
"This was why I didn't want you to have them! Better get rid of the devil's children than to risk your health!"
I blinked, surprised. 'Devil's children?' What on earth…?
"Dear!" The midwife scolded admonishingly.
"Thank you, but since this was that man's children, I still want them afterall." A motherly, exhausted voice breathed near my ear.
I whined as I was pulled away from Ace and pressed into the crook of the woman's neck. The scent of flowers was overpowering, and I briefly took in her beautiful pinkish locks, wondering if I inherited them by luck.
"If it's a girl, it's Ann. If it's a boy, it's Ace." Her lashes tickled my cheeks, eliciting a soft giggle, and I could see a flash of warm chocolate orbs glistening with emotion. "…That's what he decided."
A bead of tear slid down her face despite her radiant smile.
Frowning, I reached up to wipe the tear away. Such a beautiful woman should not shed such sad tears. My free hand reached forward to grab Ace's hand, silencing his growing whimpers. Without needing a word to be said, Ace snuggled towards me and Rouge's warmth, assured by our presence apparently.
"Ace and Ann." Rouge sighed, cuddling us both. "Their names are Gol D. Ace and Gol D. Ann."
I flinched in surprise when she rubbed her cheek against mine and Ace's affectionately. Once. Twice. Thrice. Subconsciously, I leaned into her neck, taking comfort in the gentle manner she held us.
"Ace…Ann…" She smiled despite the waterfall of tears.
I smiled back myself, pushing myself closer despite Ace's silent whimpers.
When someone is born, he is born crying while the world smiles in joy. And when someone passes on, he smiles while the world cries. But even though I ought to be crying, is it okay if I smile, just for a little while, to give her this last image of us smiling as she leaves?
"Thank you." The words she murmured into my ears surprised me. Her tears came showering onto my face. She sobbed. "Thank you…"
I do not know how long we stayed in that position neither do I know what she was thanking us for. The petals of the hibiscus fell apart some time during her sobbing and smiling. I did not even notice when her warmth faded away, leaving us on a stony cold surface.
Then, the world was right once again and tears slid down my pink cheeks quietly.
"Rouge!"
"Rouge! Hang in there!"
Through the voices and Ace's sobs that sounded eerily like those at my death, I pressed myself into her fading warmth as if to bury myself within her again, longing for the warmth which protected us for twenty months.
…
Gol D. Ace. Rouge. Devil.
It took me far too long to process those words. In the spur of the moment, I had become too focused on the loss of the mother I was looking forward to having, too overwhelmed by the unfathomable yet somehow meaningful despair that I felt.
My final clue came in the form of a man:
Monkey D. Garp
…
Demon. Monster. It.
That was what they knew her by.
The brothel's master was surprised one day when Monkey D. Garp, an old acquaintance, walked straight into his place and very promptly, dumped the little bundle into his hands.
"I entrust this girl into your hands. Her name is Portgas D. Ann."
With those words, his friend of justice marched off to find his next victim, presumably for the other infant in his hands.
Left without an explanation, the Master could only shake his head in hopelessness. That Garp…
His first plan had been, of course, to abandon the infant. When thoughts hit about Garp's reaction though, he switched to his second plan: Raising It.
Just like that, the Master took the infant in and it soon became part of his close-knitted family. It was accepted in the speed of light by his parents, who had been mourning the infertility of his wife, though naturally, there were still some objections.
The Master's wife, the Mistress, loathed It with a fervent passion. Driven by jealousy and an omnipresent fear that some other woman may take her place as the Master's wife, she dished out all possible arguments at the first family gathering until she was talked down to by the Master. Even now, the Master could laugh all day at her arguments.
What unnatural, un-infant like eyes? All he could see were a set of large brown eyes. So what if the baby keeps quiet when ordered to? It only made this more convenient for them. In the end, the Master chucked up things to the Mistress' jealousy of others' fertility.
Just like that, a trace of doubt was allowed to remain in the system. Within three years of the infant's arrival, that tiny trace became deep rooted in the brothel. It started off small, spreading to the new arrivals in those three years, then it grew due to a subtle threat the Mistress placed the prostitutes (Their girls, the Master like to term) under.
Anyone who associates with It would be fired because It brings hatred to all people around it. Any negative events should be associated with It. Any misfortune can be chucked onto It. It must have something to do with every object that went missing. It is something much lower than an average three year old girl.
The main reason why most prostitutes even believed their Mistress' teachings was probably because they all noticed It's unnatural gaze.
Her solemn chocolate eyes were always blank – a wall erected between society and herself – a look which the prostitutes recognized as the ones they donned during their jobs. The way her lips pursued into a tight line told of her discontent. These features were the perfect beginnings of a good prostitute – professionalism and greed for a higher standing.
They feared and hated her.
Fear, however, was perhaps the most rampant within the one with the most hate, however.
The Mistress could still recall the day It had adopted that blank expression with vivid clearness.
It had been a day of storms and thunder. Passing by with her usual chores of taking down the laundry, the Mistress was startled when she sensed a presence behind her. She turned just as a clap of thunder roared, illuminating the area with its flippant glow.
"Momma." The demon child stood before her, staring up at her ghastly with its hands extended. It tilted its head hopefully. "Momma…Carry me?"
Those were the first words the demon child had spoken since its arrival, yet there was not a hint of stutter or uncertainty. The Mistress knew, then and there, that this demon child is unnatural. In a brothel such as theirs, those words were close to never spoken, muchless around this child. Yet, that child still knows those words, saying them as though it has spoken them even before it was born.
–And that was the source of all her fears and doubts. The child is doing things without being taught to, like standing, writing, and even now, talking. L…Like it already knew how to do them since it was born.
With eyes widened in mortification, the Mistress slapped the hands away from her.
The demon fell down with a thump, looking up at her with those intelligent chocolate brown eyes which filled with a hurt that elicited some guilt from her.
"Stop it." She snapped sharply to the child, glaring hatefully at it. "Stop pretending like a two year old already, you monster!"
A flash of surprise flickered past its face before a crestfallen look befell on it.
"Stop looking sad. Stop looking happy. Stop looking at my husband. Stop looking at me."
The Mistress snarled. Flashes of memory of those eerie eyes staring blankly flickered passed with each sentence she ended. Her voice sounded calm yet grating, pleading yet threatening. This child is a monster, she was convinced, and if she continues to act human, the Mistress knew she would be illusioned by her demeanour as well.
"Stop talking. Stop lying. Stop breathing. Stop…"
She ranted.
Anything. Anything to erase this monster from her life.
Silence fell between them when she ended, panting heavily, before It looked down.
"I'm sorry…"
"Stop talking." the Mistress ordered sharply again.
It fell silent and closed its eyes. When those chocolate orbs opened again, they were emotionless. Lips pinched into a permanent frown, the demon turned away quietly and slipped away from her.
Ever since, it had not spoken a single word or let a single emotion slip past again.
…
Humans are too sensitive, I realized.
With our intolerance to even other humans of other races, I was foolish to have revealed my knowledge of my other life. Humans are intolerant, we were made that way, and throughout history, this flaw of ours has been repeated too many times to count.
The Mistress was a perfect example of what would have happened if I showed a bit of my knowledge. Her sanity slightly cracked and I was thought as a demon, a monster. I find myself relieved that she was the first I revealed things to, however, for it means that I would know what precaution to take with the more critical characters of this world.
Though…I have to wonder why the infant in me is acting up now.
How funny…Even though I knew logically, scientifically, strategically I should not feel bad for a stranger whom I don't know, some…somehow, the tears of disappointment kept trickling down my cheeks.
She could have been my mother, I realized with a sniffle. One sniff gave way to another and a sob tore out of my lips, buried under another clap of thunder. With just a little bit more of tolerance and patience, that woman could have become my mother. Rouge could never be replaced, even I knew that, but still…
…she could have been my mother.
…
At the tender age of five years old, Monkey D. Garp revealed to Ace the truth of his birth.
Eyes betraying his conflicting emotions and filled with so, so much fury, Ace had taken in the words without a single protest, the betrayal was shining brighter in those chocolate brown eyes. When it all finally ended, Garp was unsurprised but so very lost when Ace dodged into his room, slamming the door shut with a force that shook the whole shed.
"Geez…You sure are insensitive as always, Garp." Dadan deadpanned, a hand perched on her hip.
"Huh?" Garp glared at her.
"N-Nothing! I said absolutely nothing, Garp-san!" Dadan squealed in fear.
"Tch!"
Garp looked away from the curious mountain bandits. As much as he hated to admit it, perhaps, just perhaps, he should have revealed the truth only when Ace was much older and open-minded. Dadan's words were like pouring salt on a fresh wound; Bitter facts that he could not accept as they are. Even as he is, he still wanted to be known as a good Grandpa in Ace's eyes.
For the rest of his stay however, Garp did not catch a glimpse of Ace.
As he was leaving, the little boy Garp had grown so fond of finally showed himself. With four little words, he rendered the shed's occupants speechless, staring incredulously at his newly affixed, stern expression. Ace huffed, shifting his huge backpack.
"W-W-What did you say?!" Garp roared.
"I'm coming with you, Jiji. I want to see my little sister." With beady brown eyes levelled with Garp's own, Ace pronounced the next words clearly and slowly. "Take me to where she is."
"No. Absolutely not!" Garp yelled, exhaling sharply.
"Wait, Garp-san! Hear out the boy first-!"
"No! There's no way I would bring a pesky little brat like you with me!"
"Come on, Garp-san! It won't be that bad, will it?" One of the bandits crooned.
"The seas are a rough place, you know that!" Garp protested.
"You guys, I want you to keep your mouths shut!" Dadan raised her voice over theirs.
"But, Boss!"
"Dadan, I order you to keep Ace from following me at all costs!"
"Garp-san!" She yelled incredulously. "That's going too far-!"
"She is my other half." The scowl in the rough voice broke their argument. Ace lowered his eyes, still staring pleadingly at him.
Garp's breath was caught in his throat when Ace, one of his two precious family, lowered himself into a dogeza, kneeling on the ground to him of all people. Eyes wide, Garp felt an overwhelming sense of guilt hit him like a car.
"She is my only family in this world. Please, Jiji, take me to her." The hurt in that young voice, however much Ace tried to hide it, spilled over and showed visibly.
"Ace, what are you-?!" Dadan exclaimed in shock.
"Hurry up and stand, Ace! No mountain bandit should be bowing to another person!" One of Dadan's henchmen yelled, shocked.
Garp sucked in a shaky breath, dragging a large palm down his face to hide the exhaustion he suddenly felt.
In that moment, Garp found himself sympathizing with Ace more than ever. The kid, his precious grandson, just found out that he was Roger's child, and being that by itself placed him within enemy territory (His charge, Garp realized with a jolt of pain) every moment of the day. It's like the whole world is rejecting him.
If there's anyone who could possibly comprehend Ace, it might be the boy's twin.
If there's anyone who shouldn't be telling Ace what to do…It's him.
Turning around, Garp hid his pain masterfully and gave the doorframe a slight punch.
"Enough!" Garp yelled. He could not find it in himself to look into Ace's eyes. "I'll go and pick her up myself. After that, I'll bring her back here without any U-turns."
Gasps of relief. The creaking of the floorboards that signalled Ace standing back up. Dadan groaned about having a new charge, anticipation shining through her voice despite that.
Through it all, Garp did all he could to hide the pain in his eyes.
…
She has grown larger in those five years he left her.
Raven locks, much akin to Ace's but less curly, were grown down to her waist, framing the tiny heart shape face she inherited from her mother. Large chocolate browns peered up at him blankly, emotionless in a manner that reminded Garp of those dolls he had seen somewhere. Or those prostitutes around here, for that matter.
She was painfully pale and small, reaching no higher than Ace's chest, probably. Most of all, she was thin, barely succeeding in not looking malnourished under the thick layers of kimono she was donned in.
Garp's heart clenched when he was looking at her, his eyes wide with even more guilt than before. With gaping lips, he turned to stare at his supposedly trustworthy friend, feeling more betrayed than ever. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and anger.
"Why is she so small?!" He accused.
The Master of the brothel only lifted his hand innocently, shaking his head.
"I don't know why, but even though we kept feeding her, she never does eat a lot. And even then, she grows slower than her peers." He reasoned.
"Then how would you explain her expression?! That blank look your girls always have on them!" Garp yelled.
"I-I don't know!" The Master yelled back. "It's just that one day, she suddenly picks up that expression out of nowhere and started refusing to speak to us or even show a little bit of emotion! You don't know how much we've tried to get a response out of her!"
"She's a monster." The sudden sentence from the Mistress shocked Garp into silence.
With her haunted features and the heavy bags under her eyes, the Mistress turned to stare at the girl, eyes widening every second with fear. The girl only stared back blankly, silently. But even then, Garp could feel a challenging glint in the girl's eyes, as if she was engaging in a silent competition between the two females in the room.
"Without us teaching a thing, she already knew how to speak, write, and do things since you brought her here." The Mistress stated in a daze. "She never speaks. She never cries. She never shows any expression. It's a demon."
Wha…? Garp turned to stare at his friend, noticing the bewildered features on the man's face as he, too, stared at his wife in disbelief.
"What are you saying, dear?" The Master tried to seem calm.
"It's the truth." She merely stated.
Suddenly, Garp knew that he had made a huge mistake. He should never have left the girl here when he was finding candidates for the children. He should have brought the girl to Dadan's, left her there with Ace. Perhaps then, Ace would not be hating him so much now and the girl could have showed a hint of expression.
"You didn't have to put it in such a manner-" The master was interrupted.
Clenching his eyes in guilt, Garp forced himself to face reality as he turned to the Mistress.
"I just want to know one thing." He said, watching as the Mistress' beady eyes slowly and unsteadily turned to him. Garp continued lowly. "Have you ever referred to Ann by her name, even once?"
A minute passed and he knew his answer.
"Good!" Garp barked and glared. "Then I can take her off your hands without guilt."
He easily picked up the girl (too light. Must tell Dadan to force her to eat one of the mountain bandit portions) despite the slight flinch she gave and placed her at the crook of his arm, just like years before as he was leaving Portgas D. Rouge's house.
"You may not see me to the gate." Garp frowned at the couple and left.
No one came chasing after him.
Throwing a glimpse down at Ann, Garp's eyes widened before they darted away. Scratching his head with his free hand awkwardly, the marine hero wondered if he ought to pretend that he did not see the unshed tears in those large brown eyes or comfort the tiny, silent girl.
Garp settled for a sigh and continued walking.
"Er…How do I put this?" Garp looked away at the skies which were painted orange. Well, his wife has always said it is best to be straightforward. He coughed. "I'm sorry, Ann, for putting you up with those bastards and not checking in for these five years. Really," Garp turned to the girl and bowed his head down sincerely. "Really sorry."
Silence responded. Dread settled at the pits of his stomach, wondering if Ann would be like a second Ace, when a tiny hand climbed its way through his grey locks and took a handful of it.
Garp blinked at the inquisitive stare of the girl. He grinned and winced.
"Hey, Ann, stop that!"
…
The first night along their travels, Garp had slept with his little granddaughter in the large cabin bed.
Lying on his back with his eyes closed in faked sleep, Garp had listened to the tossing and turning of Ann all night long, unable to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long while. The few times the twisting had stopped and the girl had actually dozed off into a light sleep, she had woken up with heavy gasps, her tiny sobs muffled almost instinctively using her own hand. Then, she would twist to look at his 'sleeping' figure as if to make sure he is still asleep.
It broke his heart knowing that this was the result of his negligence. Each time she woke, he swore to himself that he would do something right this time round – that he would protect his granddaughter this time round.
Without thinking, he swung his thick muscular arm around his tiny granddaughter's frame and hugged her into his side. She froze, flinching in fear.
Garp waited patiently for Ann to relax into his large hand before he sighed with the daze from his 'sleep'.
"Want your Oji-chan to sing you a lullaby?" He suggested gruffly.
He did not wait for his reply to come before he was already singing the lullaby his wife usually sang to Dragon. It was horribly out of tune, he would know, and he ended up humming the parts where the lyrics had faded beyond his memories.
Still, in time, Ann's little body relaxed and Garp fell asleep with a grin, a trail of drool slipping from the side of his mouth.
When he woke up, he found Ann clinging onto him tighter, burying her face into his sleeve with a quiet murmur which he imagined to be 'Ji-chan'.
Garp only grinned.
…
When Ace had said he wanted to see his little sister, he had not expected to have her returned in so many broken little pieces.
Ignoring the bewildered glint in his grandson's eyes, Garp had only chortled as clamorously as always before shoving the girl into Ace's arms and left for a talk with Dadan.
Frustration welled up briefly at his grandpa's nonchalance to his feelings. He was a demon's child! Why does Garp still let him live?! Isn't this even crueller than killing him whilst he was in his mother's womb-?! But feeling the tiny flinch his little sister gave, Ace pushed aside the red in his eyes and turned to take her form in.
She was so tiny, was Ace's first impression.
Long raven locks cascaded down either sides of her face, providing her with a silent beauty which Ace knew would be attractive to others their age. Her face lacked the dimples which Ace shared with his mother. And her miniscule hands, as they clung onto him for support, were light as feathers. Ace stared as large chocolate brown eyes were turned to him, the blankness of her face lightened by the things he saw in those eyes.
Those eyes…
In Garp's eyes, he had only seen the indifference in them, but to Ace who was both a child and her twin, he saw beyond that. His own chocolate brown pools widened when he saw the unspoken pain laced within them, the calculative tint and equations which Ace himself lacked, a pool of swirling emotions, and more pronounced, was a sense of being so very lost.
Subconsciously, Ace's hands trembled where they were placed on her shoulders.
Those eyes…
They are like a mirror to his after he discovered his origins.
She reminded him of a more pained and less temperamental version of himself. Even though he was reckless, he at least has his anger to release all the pent up stress, but unlike him, his little sister can only bottle up the emotions until they erupt.
They were both children, monster's children, and they were both lost and drowning in the world's orthodox and unforgiving view. No one else can stand up for them other than themselves; No one else will. Garp was a marine, and the rest of their company are not exactly what you might call reliable.
It was a blood curling epiphany that the soft-hearted five year old suddenly got: they were the only ones they have in this cold, cruel world of theirs, and no one, especially not the adults, can be trusted.
Suddenly, Ace felt like crying.
But he was the older one, wasn't he? He must stay strong.
He was a demon's child, and so is his little sister.
He was relieved, so very relieved to know that someone is the same as him. Yet…He felt horrible to want someone to suffer this hell with him.
His grandpa, the only stability in his life so far, was his enemy.
Why?! Why must you let us live?!
…And there is no one except her and him.
No one except the two of them.
Quietly, Ace leaned in and wrapped his arms painfully around his little sister.
She flinched, struggling against him until she noticed the shaking of his much larger frame. With all too much hesitance, his little sister lifted her arms and placed them around his shivering body in a comforting manner. Tiny fingers dragged their way to his hair, massaging his scalp gently as he tried to hide his tears by burying his face in her hair.
"I'm sorry." Ace choked.
For crying. For being weak. For not letting you cry before me.
For existing in this world.
"I'm sorry." He cried.
Throughout it all, she never once moved away from him.
…
He is a curious little boy with a set of rounded brown eyes, adorable dimples, and a round circular face. Like a human personification of the daunting task that I am about to face in the future, he towered over me, his face reminding me endlessly of the possibly altered future, of the people that will die because of my existence, of how this is no longer just a book…
Tiny in face with him, I watched as his large form crumbled into pieces for the first time ever and supported his big body with as much strength as I can gather.
"I'm sorry." He sobbed.
The fat tears which trickled down, hot on his cheeks were the ones I had refused to shed all this time. I shut my eyes as he cried more, sobbing long enough for the both of us.
"…I'm sorry…"
…
"Clairvoyance?
This is no clairvoyance, neither is it a book.
It is just the struggles of a girl to save the world from herself."
- Gol D. Ann
…
Author's Note: I don't know how many of you read A/N, but I'll place this here anyway to explain some things.
Garp may seem a little bit OOC to some of you guys, but I think it is only natural that a granddaddy would feel upset after making his grandson feel betrayed. Any granddaddy would feel as if they have failed their grandchild, and having acid poured into his wound by knowing that he failed yet another child, it's only right that Garp became a lot angrier than he normally would when he found out about my OC's foster parents. Hence, his rude attitude in that scene.
For Ace, I tried making him seem more in character, but it is difficult since I only know of what he's like at ten and twenty. I believe that he initially loved Garp very much until the truth of his birth was revealed to him. Who wouldn't feel betrayed knowing that your granddad is someone who could arrest you at any time, and that your granddad left you at a mountain bandit's house most likely because he couldn't stand seeing his failure? Ace tries hard to be mean to Garp at first and is thrown off by Garp's nonchalant attitude (To Garp, Ace is Roger's son from the beginning and he still is, so there's no need to change his behaviour even after revealing the truth), which explains his frustration and pent up stress at the last scene. Having someone to trust allows all stress to be released, also explain the tears and sappy moment.
If you have any other inquiries, please review or PM me. I shall try to explain in my next chapter.