Chapter 2: Family
It was a 12 hour drive from the University to their home. Some of his siblings took the train while others brought their own car or motorcycle. Marco owned his own motorcycle but it was left in the dormitory's parking lot. The silent stare from his father was enough for him to understand that he should take a seat on the car where Whitebeard himself was going to use as transportation. Jozu was their driver with Thatch beside him. The chef was still furiously trying to dry his tears but failed miserably.
Marco knew that those were tears of frustrations. He just not had the strength to comfort his brother.
From the corner of his eyes Marco could see that the three of them were itching to ask him some questions but probably all of them had the same questions so they were going to wait until they got home.
For that twelve hour silent ride it was already morning when they arrived. Izo and Haruta were the ones who opened the door for them. Their Father told them to take a rest and everything would be discussed until they got at least three hours of sleep or until the clock strike ten. Marco nodded and was about to get in his room when Thatch stopped him by grabbing his arm forcefully.
"Where are you going?" the question was asked with such venom that Marco thought if he answered wrong then he might found himself dodging a lot of sharp objects.
But still, questions needed to be answered.
"To my room, yoi. Pops said we should get some rest, right? Or did you guys made it into a storage room?" he tried, he really tried to lighten the mood because it was so suffocating but considering that Marco was the reason of such atmosphere it did not slice the awkwardness at all.
Thatch glared at him while Izo chuckled mockingly behind them.
"As if we could do that, Marco. No, all of us are going to sleep in the living room." To prove Izo's statement he opened the door and revealed several sleeping bags and blankets laid on the living room's wooden floor. The sofa and armchairs were discarded to the side of the room.
"Aren't we too old to sleep together, yoi?"
Thatch was still not loosening his grip on Marco's arm when he answered, "This way you will never had a chance to run away."
If Marco interpreted it wrong then he might be out of practice. Yeah, right, Phoenix Marco who was taking Psychology interpreted the meaning behind his brother's words.
"No running away this time, coward."
"Then at least let me use the bathroom."
This time the gripped loosened and Marco went to where he had said he was going. When he opened the lights and faced the mirror he stared at himself then turned the faucet on to wash his face.
"You know that I can't get out of the house considering that everyone was on high alert, right Izo?" he dried his face with a towel and didn't bother at all to look at Izo who was leaning on the doorframe outside the bathroom.
"I still don't get it how you could know who and when you were being followed."
"It's a talent I guess, yoi."
"Quit the bullshit, Marco. You know very well what kind of situation you are in right now, right?"
Marco was rummaging on the cabinet when he found a razor blade. He did not know what prompted him to do it. Maybe it was the idea to make his own family to leave him alone, to stay away from as far as possible, or to completely make them to detach whatever strings were binding them to Marco. Because no matter how Marco was happy to have his family back he could never belong to them and no matter how ordinary he tried to act it would never be the same.
The reason was he remembered everything and they remembered nothing.
For Marco, in every life he had lived there was always, always the time where he killed people. Be it may in war or in self-defense or to protect someone. The fact would always remain the same that he was already tainted. Marco would never have a second chance but his family deserved a second chance.
Izo could be the artist he wanted to be. His name could be known throughout the world of arts and fashions.
Thatch could be a known chef as a career.
Haruta was already showing skills in theater act.
Vista could make a name as a magician.
Jozu could use his ability to appraise important gems in any way he could think of.
His brothers could do a lot of things in the future. Now that they were no longer outcasts of the society.
Marco…Marco was a different case. He would always be different because he was forever cursed with the memories. No thanks for the phoenix who was still swimming inside his already damned soul.
Izo was sure that he did not close his eyes. He was damned sure that he was on high alert on every moved that Marco made. So why didn't he noticed his older brother approaching him? It was already too late when Izo did. The next thing he knew was a cold, sharp metal was being pressed over his jugular vein.
"Izo, do you know what kind of situation you guys are in now?"
His eyes widened in fear for a fraction. Even though Marco still sported his lazy face the eyes told another tale. It was the eyes of someone who was not going to think twice in slicing Izo's throat open.
In five seconds Izo's life flashed through his eyes.
"I guess you don't, yoi." Marco sighed and put the razor blade inside the pocket of his purple jacket.
As Marco walked away Izo was staring blankly on the wall in front of him. Slowly he slid down the floor and held his throat.
What was wrong with Marco?
Those were the eyes of a soldier that killed a thousand times.
It's a matter of everything and nothing.
Ten in the morning and everyone sat on the dining table with Thatch serving their brunch. Their Oyaji was eating his food like it was the same old ordinary day and the rest didn't even bother to conceal their staring and glaring towards their first adopted brother.
When Whitebeard finished his meal and took the mug down on the table was enough to open the conversation that everyone wanted to participate a long time ago.
"Two months, Son. You did not let us see you or even talked to you for two months. Then suddenly I would found a letter on my desk saying that my eldest was living? I'm old enough to know Marco that you were not planning to come back at all. Now, my question is…why?"
The rest of them waited for an answer. Meanwhile, Marco was taking his sweet time in answering by playing with his fork.
"Huh…I guess I made a lot of mistake…" he finally said but still not making eye contact to any of them.
"You could say that again." Vista commented, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Yeah…I should have not left that letter. If I didn't then you wouldn't know where I am or better yet I should have not gone in the University. I should have travelled here and there." From somewhere you could not find me. Was the underlying message.
All of his siblings as taken aback on the animosity Marco was showing to them. One of them recovered and clutched Marco's collar shirt, forcing the blond to shift his body upward a bit. Thatch had a lot of pent up frustrations that needed to be released and the only thing that would make him feel better was to vent it out to his Marco.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"What is wrong with me?" Marco returned the glare with his sardonic one and stood up to match their heights, "What is wrong with all of you?! How many times should I push all of you away?! You don't need someone like me in your life! What else should I do for you to get the message? Should I have just killed Izo hours ago for you to understand it?!"
Silence…for a minute silence followed the outburst of emotions.
"What did you say about Izo?" Fossa asked. Cigar almost fell off from his numb fingers.
Marco's dead eyes focused on the brother that asked the question.
"I pinned Izo on the wall with a blade pressed over his throat." It was stated like he was saying the earth was revolving around the sun, that it was as if it was already a common knowledge.
"Are you hearing yourself at all?" Jozu felt that bits and pieces of Marco's sanity were dissolving in a sea of oblivion.
"Yes, I am. The question is, do you guys know what you getting yourself into when you taken me back in here?"
For the second time Marco was punched again. This punched was followed by another and another one and another one, until he was lying on the ground and he tasted the blood inside his mouth. Actually the metallic taste had a mixed of saltiness and in a blurred vision of the fists flying towards him Marco realized that it was Thatch's tears. Really, their chef was turning into a cry baby now.
"Thatch! Stop it" it was Izo who forced the barraged of punches to be put on halt.
Why did Izo stop Thatch? Did Izo not get his 'stay away from me message' also?
"Marco," Izo spoke but he did not meet the eyes of his blond brother, "Earlier you said that you thought we hated you. Why did you say that?"
Without a second thought he answered it, "Because that it was what you supposed to feel."
"Why?"
Thatch was breathing hard and Izo let him to lean on his chest. Izo tried his best to calm him down as he tried to make sense on Marco's actions.
"Because I'm a murderer. I'm already tainted. I don't need all of you to be drowned with me."
From that Whitebeard finally intervened. Actions may do speak louder than words but there were things that could only be expressed in words.
"Marco, blood may already be on your hands but it was not blood that bind us together, son."
Marco shifted his gaze towards his Father when he heard him spoke. The look was enough to bring tears in his eyes.
"Killing is a sin and even I will never deny it. No matter what was the reason, killing will always be a sin and you would carry it for forever. For how long it might take."
It might sound insensitive and some wanted to protest but those people shut their mouths when they saw the eyes of their Oyaji and the message he wanted to convey to his first son.
"…But, Marco, this burden that you carry…you can share it with us you know? If you are going insane then your brothers and I will anchor you back. If you think the waves and the winds are too cruel for you then we are here to help you sail your ship as smoothly as possible. If your hands are tainted and no amount of washing will make it clean again, then we will be here and paint it with another color. The thing is, Marco, we are family and family will always be by your side."
"We don't care if you coated your hands with blood. You protected my life. The only thing that I can promise you is that I will try my best to prevent you in taking another man's life, no matter how much the guy deserves it." Thatch said in a ragged breath.
"You know, Marco, there are lots of colors when an art is being created, right? There are this dark colors and there are the light ones. Both are needed together to form some blending. It will only depend on the artist on what outcome it will have. There are times an artist might get some injuries but we will always be here to heal the wounds."
"In real stories there are no perfect protagonist or antagonist, you know?" Haruta voiced out his own encouragements, "A soldier protagonist could be a ruthless killer in a battlefield but when he comes home he would be crowned as a hero. That was because he did it to protect."
"So, Marco, son, you are not alone. You're not a cold hearted murderer that you think you are. You are my son, and you are their brother."
The only thing that Marco could do after such speeches was to let the tears fall down his face and stare silently on the ceiling.
A long, long time ago there was a Phoenix
The Phoenix always sings the songs of sorrows
For the Phoenix will always remember everything
And the humanity will remember nothing.
Tired of being alone the Phoenix wished to share its sorrows
The phoenix said, "I will grant my power to whoever found me but in exchange that person must accompany me."
So the young man who accepted the Phoenix's gifts unknowingly accepted its curses.
Forever the young man will share the Phoenix's Sorrows