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Here's the next chapter! Do leave a review if you can, okay! :)

Part VI: A Disconnect

Ace never meant to be a bad Captain, but he should have expected his shortcomings to eventually drive cracks and fractures into his brief captaincy.

Try as he might, Ace wasn't able to mask the increasingly volatile emotions that lurked inside him. It pushed at him, hard, even when he persisted in watching over the silly group of people who had chosen to follow him to the end of the line.

Ace was no longer the cheerful and confident Captain they knew. He became easily agitated and his already limited patience was frayed. He snapped at them when they tried to reach out to him, and he gradually withdrew from their concerned looks to keep the hurt away from their eyes.

It was cruel and pathetic, he knew, but he didn't know how else to guard his crew from their wayward Captain.

It didn't help that Ace's mess of a head kept drawing back to thoughts of Whitebeard. He imagined meeting the strongest man in the world. His mind's eye would conjure a battleground between the Yonko and the Pirate King, only for the latter to slowly morph into a much younger version of the man.

In his dreams, there was always one conclusive outcome to that battle. Sometimes, it made him smile.

Most times, though, it made Ace feel more wretched. His crew needed him and all he could do was fixate on a man he had never met.

So Ace gathered his crew one morning and hardened his heart.

"I'm leaving the crew," he announced, taking care to look each of his crew members in the eye. They deserved more than that, but Ace didn't have anything worthy to offer. "It's not your fault, but it's my decision to make. I know we're too deep in the New World, so I won't leave until we reach safer waters in Paradise." He then bowed as low as he could. "I hope you bear with me until then. I'm sorry for everything."

The ensuing silence was expected. The gasps, the widened eyes, and even the gradual show of anger as his crew started to aggressively protest his words. Ace also anticipated his first mate (and oh, how he savoured the title while he still had one) taking control of the conversation by silencing everyone with a shout.

"I'm sure our Captain has a good explanation behind his decision," Deuce said. He raised his hand to quiet the subsequent outroar.

The pirate turned to the teen, his features set in a deep frown. "We'll do as you say, Captain, as and when we reach a suitable island in Paradise," he continued, voice flat. "Please bear with us until then."

Ace almost winced at the last sentence. His rehearsed words were meant to be kind but receiving them was more painful than he expected.

It also hurt when Deuce dismissed the crew, and they reluctantly followed after casting Ace quiet looks of confusion.

Ace knew his feelings didn't make sense. He shouldn't want his crew to plead for his mind to change when he decided to abandon their flag.

Then again, it made sense that his heart would continue to tear him to pieces no matter what he did.

Ace only caught on to his crew's plan when he realised they were sailing deeper into the New World rather than away from it.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it, but the sense of relief that washed over him shouldn't be it. The weaker part of him also considered reviewing his decision, but the thought was quickly shoved aside. They weren't ready for the true powers of the New World. Ace couldn't accept anything that could cost them their lives.

"This wasn't what I meant," he said to Deuce one evening as the others pointedly withdrew from the cabin room.

Deuce didn't bother to look at him and continued flipping through the papers disinterestedly. "I don't get what you mean."

Ace sighed. "Is this what you want? You know none of us are ready for the bigger crews in these waters. We're sailing to our deaths."

There was a lengthy pause. Then: "Is that why you wanted to leave the crew? Because you thought you weren't strong enough to protect us?"

Ace winced. His first mate deserved a proper answer to his question. Deuce had accepted him despite the truth behind his existence and had decided to risk his life to sail alongside the fire-user anyway. But Ace didn't know how to describe the mess in his head without sounding crazy.

Deuce sighed. He gave up his air of nonchalance and put down the papers. "I know that's not why, Ace," he said with a clear certainty. "I also know you don't want to leave the crew. So, we're going to keep on sailing the New World until you pull yourself together."

"Deuce…"

"If you decide to leave us after all that, then fine. We'll plan a route to Paradise, and we'll go our separate ways. None of us will accept anything less than this."

Ace was silent for a long while. "You know you can't stop this," he said quietly. Part of him longed for the hand his first mate extended to him, but he knew better. He couldn't shake the tumultuous thoughts that ruled his mind. Even now, his determination to resist the call to go after an Emperor was chipping at the edges.

"Then we won't," the older pirate retorted. "But you will give us this time, Ace. We won't stop you from heading off on your own, but we both know you won't leave us to fend for ourselves in the New World." Deuce leaned forward to look fire-user in the eye. "Call us stupid for wanting a Captain who doesn't want us anymore. But we won't leave you to fend for yourself when you're clearly going through a hard time. You'd have to put in a lot more effort to drive us away if that's what you want."

Ace felt something prick at his eyes. This wasn't how he envisioned his discharge as Captain to go. He didn't want to, but he had to leave. "Please don't make me beg," he whispered as he dipped his head.

The teen registered the rustle of someone moving before a solid warmth pressed into his shoulder in a pitiful show of comfort.

"We'll set a course for the quieter islands in the New World," Deuce said, his voice gentle. "You don't have to worry about losing any of us, alright, Cap?"

The older pirate squeezed Ace's shoulder before he turned to leave.

Ace remained where he was, somehow feeling more lost and bereft than before.

The crew's plan to keep Ace with them as long as they could didn't consider the ensuing awkwardness following their Captain's announcement.

Conversations were stilted and it was glaringly obvious how each crewmember avoided any mention of the future. It didn't stop them from trying to clumsily reach out to the fire-user anyway. Ace was grateful, but they were so careful with him that he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Maybe he was being pathetic, but Ace still had strength. He just needed time to…figure things out.

It was this gradual sense of disconnect that eventually led him to turn away from their support.

So, when the pirate woke up one night, torn out of his dreams filled with disparate images of a bloodied battlefield, he decided to head to the island they were docked at for some respite from the clawing in his chest.

Ace wandered the shadows of the night, illuminated only by the pale moonlight that shone through the passing clouds. Leaves crunched beneath his feet. He could feel the whiff of damp wood permeating the air around him, the smell so strong and familiar it made him remember a treehouse far, far from him on an island many seas away.

It didn't take long for him to move towards the hills that were a little bit off the beaten path. He wasn't even sure which island this was, having accepted whatever route his crew had made in his stead.

It was almost poetic how, though the path was dark, Ace walked forward as if dragged through the night towards something unspoken. His aimless trek eventually led him to a clearing at the top of one of the taller hills that littered the island.

There were some used bottles scattered across the grass at one end of the clearing. Some chairs were left behind, with one or two on their sides, and Ace could spot the remnants of food packaging stuck beneath the wooden furniture. The teen would hardly be surprised if there had been a party perhaps the night before.

None of these mattered to him, stunned as he was by the prominent wooden shaft that pierced the earth in the middle of the clearing.

Ace's gaze shifted upwards, and he gaped. A pirate flag was attached to the top of the pole.

I must be seeing things, he thought blankly.

Before him, Whitebeard's flag fluttered powerfully under the strength of the night breeze.

Ace didn't believe in fate. That his crew decided to stay on an island under Whitebeard's protection was pure coincidence.

It wasn't a divine message from the skies for Ace to give in to the whispers to go after the Emperor. It wasn't an omen. It wasn't anything.

So, yes, he knew better than to return to that clearing.

There was nothing for him there.

There were times Ace felt invincible with his crew at his side.

During those times, the idea that any power could break up the camaraderie and strength of their pirate crew was nearly inconceivable.

It was a childish notion, Ace would later admit after coming down from the highs of their victories.

But even then, Ace had always known the Spade Pirates wouldn't survive a battle with the strongest man in the world.

Why, then, was that hard to remember when he pictured that pirate flag in his mind's eye?

"Are you alright, Cap?"

Ace smiled listlessly at Mihar as the latter took a seat next to him. "I'm great." Any attempt to infuse cheer into his voice fell flat.

Mihar nodded. "You seem pretty tired these days," he commented. "Are you not able to sleep well?"

The teen gave a short laugh as he shrugged. "Must be the lack of people to fight around here. I probably have too much energy to sleep properly."

Mihar hummed in acknowledgement. "Well then, how about a spar, Captain? I bet I could at least last 5 minutes against you."

Ace snorted. "You should at least aim for 10 minutes, Mihar."

Maybe a good fight was what he needed.

His crew wanted to leave for the next island. They explained that this one was too mild for their taste. Nothing happened here. Not even pirates came by to dwell around town.

Ace didn't mention how Whitebeard's flag was probably the reason behind the peace. He also didn't say that the thought of leaving made him want to drag his feet into the dirt.

It was fine then, he told himself, for him to make that trip through the darkness one final time. He'd look upon that flag and he'd make his peace with it, and he'd leave.

He wouldn't endanger his crew for no rational reason.

He'd also move on to something more real. Maybe he'd even rediscover that spark that had driven him once with his crew.

The flag was still there when Ace reached the top of the hill. It flapped under the strong winds – an innocent thing that hinted little of the power it symbolised. The teen gazed at the signature moustache that lay upon the skull and studied how the crossbones seemed so much more menacing than the Spade flag.

Before he knew it – before his brain could comprehend his actions – his fingers were deftly untying the strings at the lower end of the pole to pull the jolly roger down.

It was going to be fine, he told himself as he frantically lowered the flag. He'd take a quick look and he'd put it back up. He just needed to do…something. Something to ease the ache in his chest, to silence that urge to go after a man who was leagues ahead of him.

Ace knew he wasn't making sense (nothing seemed to make sense anymore at this point in his life), but even the printed skull's smirk seemed to draw him forward.

He had to-he had to-he had to-

Ace let out a breath when the fabric fell into his hands. He was careful to keep it from touching the ground as he ran his fingers over the rough cloth, his gaze fixed on the thick lines that were etched into the material.

Something close to wonder seemed to seep into his skin. This flag belonged to the strongest man in the world. It represented the man who used to be the Pirate King's rival. A pirate his father had known and never bested.

A man who rose above the dreaded title of Pirate King.

While whispers of this great pirate mentioned Gol D. Roger at times, more often than not, Ace would hear how Whitebeard himself was a terror on the seas. His name was tied to his power and deeds. He was also said to be so beloved that he had amassed a fleet of pirates who bore his flag proudly.

This same flag that Ace held in his hands.

It was…mad for someone like that to exist. Someone with power like that wasn't known for their light. But the teen had only heard of great things about the man – and yes, he had done his research.

And Ace…Ace wanted something.

But what do I want? He thought with growing dismay and frustration. What am I doing?

Why am I so obsessed with this man?

Ace shook his head hard enough in a bid to rid himself of such unhelpful thoughts. He cast the flag one last look of longing before he moved to raise the flag once more.

As was his luck, the fabric brushed against his face and Ace sneezed just as he pushed it away from his person. Flames flickered across his arms as he reflexively tried to hold his breath.

Ace realised a moment later what he had done when he blinked to see a bright orange flickering across the burning flag.

…

The burning flag?

Shit.

The teen dropped the jolly roger in horror. He watched as the remnants of that symbol of power crumbled into blackened soot and dust.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

"What have I done?" he whispered as the wind carried the dust particles into the air.

Ace wasn't proud of it, but he ran.

He couldn't return to his ship. Not with the Whitebeards potentially after his head after the sheer disrespect. Yeah, the Emperor was known for his alleged gentle nature, but he was also known for being utterly ruthless towards those who meant him and his crew harm. Any pirate worth their salt knew burning another's flag was a clear and direct challenge.

(WHY- Why was he so careless?!)

With nowhere to go, Ace made a run for the other side of the island. There was a smaller port which housed several small ships. Maybe he could get on a ship and hopefully sail as far as he could from his crew. He should count his few lucky stars that they weren't so deep into the New World that they wouldn't be able to fend for themselves.

Ace never wanted them to part like this, but he couldn't take his chances with his crew on the line.

The teen pushed away the regret and focused on creating a plan of escape.

This was it. His last stand as Captain.

His bad luck caught up to him just an island over. He'd barely made the trip without starving himself and had been in the middle of stuffing himself when a deep, gravelly voice interrupted his meal.

"Fire Fist Ace. I have come to accept your challenge."

Ace sighed. He couldn't even have his meal in peace. He turned to see a large blue whale shark fishman standing a little way away from him. He donned a type of black kimono with fish designs on either side of his chest. There was a red sash tied to it, completing the grim look of a man – uh fishman – on a mission.

"Who might you be?"

The fishman's eyes gleamed. "My name is Jinbei," he grunted.

Ace tilted his head. The name sounded familiar, somehow. "You're one of the seven Warlords," he said slowly as he recalled that one conversation with Wallace. He narrowed his eyes. "What challenge do you speak of?"

Jinbei didn't deny his claims. "I may be a Warlord," he agreed, "but I'm here on Whitebeard's behalf. You have declared your intent to go after him. You will have to go through me."

Ah. How interesting. "A Warlord…protecting an Emperor," Ace mused. "Does Whitebeard know you're going around fighting his battles for him?" It didn't surprise the teen that the Emperor had even the Warlords at his beck and call. Powerful men had powerful connections.

The fishman appeared unaffected by the teen's words. "That is irrelevant. Now, come, fight me, Fire First. You have no hope of reaching Whitebeard if you cannot defeat me."

For one moment, Ace thought of listening to reason. He could confess that this was a humiliating misunderstanding, that the fire-user had been careless and had lost temporary control over his Devil Fruit.

Jinbei likely wouldn't believe him, but it was worth trying, right? It would only cost him his pride.

Except Ace had nothing but his name now. He'd confess when he won.

"Sure," Ace easily agreed. He then pointed at his half-eaten meal. "Let me finish up real quick, won't you? I'm absolutely starved."

Ace should have known a fight with a Warlord was a fight to the death.

Their battle lasted five days before the fishman finally collapsed in defeat.

The pirate Captain too was ready to succumb to exhaustion. But he needed to fix the fishman up. If lucky enough, he could even get some sleep and wake up before Jinbei so he could explain his side of the story without being murdered when unconscious.

Ace should have known luck had long abandoned him when the shadow of an enormous battleship loomed over him just as he fell to his knees. The hairs on the back of his hand stood up.

"Where's the kid who wants to take my head?"

The teen closed his eyes. Yeah, no luck at all.

"As you wish, I'll take you on! I'll take care of this myself."

"I'd hate to see you die here, kid."

"If you still want to fight, then take my name and roam the seas wild and free!"

"Become my son!"

HELL NO!

Part VII: The Whitebeard Pirates

The sun shone brightly on the day Ace woke up on a foreign ship with a foreign pirate crew.

The crew of an Emperor, he would later find out.

It was both the most humiliating and outrageous experience of his life.

Ace would have gladly thrown himself over the side of the ship to drown out of sheer embarrassment, but that man with the ridiculous pompadour hair had informed him of his crew's movements. His crew – his stupid, ridiculous crew – had been chasing after their wayward Captain and had even caught up to the Moby Dick.

And just as stupidly (like their Captain), their plan ended there.

Ace didn't know what to do but to follow directions to the Emperor, who apparently had taken a liking to him.

A laundry list of emotions churned in the teen's stomach as he was led to Whitebeard. He wasn't sure what he felt- there was too much to unpack, and he was certain he'd collapse to his feet if he tried. It was already hard enough trying to contain himself as he felt multiple eyes lock on him as he reached the deck of the large ship.

Whitebeard himself was sitting in the middle where the floor dropped several feet below to a lower platform. It said a lot about the man's size that his feet brushed the lower deck easily.

The Emperor's gaze immediately shifted to him when he came into view. He grinned. "Did you have a good rest, boy?"

Ace felt some of the tension leave his body. He wasn't sure how he'd respond if he was called his son.

As expected, Whitebeard looked far more…grand? Was that the word? He looked far more something in person than the wanted posters had been able to capture. Ace had imagined a stern countenance against weathered skin, and with the hint of power brimming from his very person. Had envisioned a man so strong that just one look would lock your feet to the ground and send your heart thumping a mile a minute in your chest.

The reality was not far from his imagination.

"Why am I here?" he asked with a calm that belied the racing emotions inside him.

Whitebeard's grin widened. "You know why you're here. I remember you cursing at me when I brought it up."

Ace snatched a furtive glance at their audience, wondering if perhaps this was their form of entertainment for a crew as powerful as theirs. It would get boring, wouldn't it, when there were no prospective challengers to keep them on their toes.

He heaved in a deep breath. He had to focus on the important matters first. "What will you do to my crew?"

"They will be invited to join my crew as well, of course," Whitebeard answered easily, as if there were no other option.

"And what will you do if I refuse your invitation? Will you kill them?" He'd prefer for his crew to remain unhurt, but protecting their lives came first.

The older pirate studied Ace with disturbing perception as if analysing him through his words and actions. "Your crew will remain under our protection as long as they sail with us. Provided they don't harm anyone of mine, of course."

That…was generous. More than Ace deserved. He wasn't sure if the Emperor would honour his words, but there wasn't any room for negotiation here, was there? He had no power here to state his demands.

"Fine," he said, "If you let me call them, I'll tell them to stand down."

Surprised flickered through the older man's features. "That shall be done."

"I don't want to join your crew," Ace added bluntly.

"Take some time to think it over, boy. It's not an offer you'd get every day."

"What are you saying? You'll keep me here until I change my mind?"

"Now, that's up to you, boy," Whitebeard said, laughing. "I'm offering you a family."

The older pirate's tone offered a certain sense of finality that immediately left Ace bristling with irritation. "I don't want to be your son even more," he snapped. "What are you even doing? I burned your flag, and you want to recruit me?"

(Who even goes around adopting random kids on the street?!)

The Emperor leaned forward on one arm. "What would you have me do instead?"

"You know the answer to that better than I do. And even I know trying to recruit your rivals isn't normal." Ace glared at the pirate. "I have nothing to offer you. So, tell me, Whitebeard, what do you want from me?"

"I've told you what I want. It's up to you to believe me," Whitebeard said. "But, tell me, boy, how can we convince you our offer is true?"

There was a murmur of conversation around them now, but Ace couldn't bother to understand what was being said. It was a clever move. Loyalty had to be earned. Anything less than that made for a weak crew and a weak Captain. It made sense that Whitebeard wanted him to view them favourably.

Throw a bone. Be kind to your enemy. Be the only support they could and needed to have.

But Ace wasn't easy like that. He struggled in the face of kindness. It either wasn't real, or it wouldn't last.

"There's nothing you can do to convince me." His answer appeared belligerent, but it was honest. "So, what do we do now?"

Whitebeard didn't seem phased in the least. He only looked amused. "We'll be hitting landfall in another two to three months. You can get off and be on your way with your crew then."

Two to three-

"Excuse me?! What am I supposed to do till then?"

Whitebeard let out a laugh. "Let it be your punishment for burning my flag, brat. You can get to know us better in the meantime."

"I don't want to know you!" Yes, he was nearing a bizarre fixation about the moustache man, but he didn't want to be stuck on his crew and trapped by the multiple powerhouses on the ship.

"Or you could tell me why you burnt my flag."

The air was suddenly gone from Ace's lungs. He felt an abrupt numbness course through his body, and his mind went almost blank. That was- that was a good question to ask. It made sense that Whitebeard would want to know the reason behind his handiwork.

Ace could freely admit his carelessness. It would take just a few words to clear the air. He didn't know if his confession would be enough to assuage the man's curiosity or sense of justice, but there was no reason for the teen to withhold the truth.

Except Ace's stupidity transcended any common sense he possessed when faced with the Emperor's dark eyes.

Whitebeard nodded to himself at Ace's silence. "I suppose we'll be getting to know each other better." He gestured at the blonde pirate next to him. "Marco will help you settle in. You can approach him if you have any questions. Of course" – at this, he laughed again – "you can come to ask me instead."

"What? Wha– I don't –" A quick scan around him and Ace realised no one had looked surprised at this outcome. Some of the gathered pirates looked curious, with some even shamelessly eyeing him as if trying to understand the appeal behind his potential recruitment.

The blonde man – Marco, he internally corrected – nodded at him. "Let's get you settled in, yoi," he said, sounding almost bored. His cerulean eyes were sharp, but Ace couldn't sense any hostility in them. "Unless you'd like to have a go at Oyaji before we do?"

Ace spared him an irritated glance before he turned back towards Whitebeard.

(He was also going to ignore how the term Oyaji made him want to hurl.)

This wasn't supposed to happen, he thought wildly. Everything was spinning out of control. He wasn't supposed to be here. At best, he was supposed to have been killed in battle. Everything about this defied all reason!

"You're not making any sense! Why are you doing this?"

Whitebeard regarded him with an unreadable look. For the first time in their brief interaction, the man appeared every inch the powerful pirate the world had made him out to be. Their eyes locked. Then, the moment passed, and the older man simply leaned back with the ease of a man used to having his orders followed.

"Answer my question and I will answer yours. It's a fair exchange, considering that we are both pirates." Whitebeard then glanced at Marco and grinned, as if sparked by a sudden thought.

Ace's doubts hardened into certainty when the Emperor turned the grin to him.

"If you get bored, come fight me, brat. I'll take your challenge any day."

Marco sighed next to him. "Oyaji, really…"

And then it's almost too much, how the Whitebeard crew treated his capture like any other day.

"Don't think I won't do that!" he snapped. "I'm your enemy! Don't you forget it!"

Whitebeard only laughed that increasingly grating laugh at him. "Come at me, brat."

Ace glowered at him. "I damn well will," he muttered. He shifted to glare at the blonde pirate instead.

Marco raised an eyebrow at him, looking unimpressed. "Shall we go, yoi? I can show you to your rooms and-"

"Shove it," Ace said roughly. "I'm calling my crew and then I'll do as your Captain asked."

"I take it you're not referring to our invitation to join us, yoi."

Ace's heated stare only intensified. "I'll give him a challenge."

To his annoyance, Marco only looked amused.

As always, thank you for reading and do leave a review if you can! Till next time! :)