Siren's legs gave out beneath her, and she sank to the damp, broken earth with Ace's body in her lap. The weight of him felt impossibly heavy, though he was lighter now than he had ever been in life. She cradled him like a child, her arms wrapped around his chest, his head resting against her shoulder.
Her breath was shallow, mechanical. The world around her had shrunk to this moment, this unbearable stillness. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they had to move. The fight wasn't over. The survivors were gathering. But her body refused to obey.
Her lips parted, her voice a flat monotone as she spoke to him. "You always said I was stubborn..." Her fingers brushed through his hair, absent and detached. "You told me not to get in over my head. Look who's talking now."
A hollow laugh escaped her, though it held no mirth. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be, Ace. You were supposed to fight, to live. To see the world. To laugh with Luffy and make jokes at Marco's expense." Her voice faltered but her hands didn't stop moving, smoothing down his hair, brushing dirt from his skin. "You're supposed to... stay." Her voice grew ever quieter, like it was a profound effort to speak.
The child inside her stirred, and Siren's hand instinctively went to her abdomen. Her other arm stayed locked around Ace, her body trembling under the weight of her exhaustion and the crushing silence in her mind. She felt no tears, no grief-only a vast, consuming emptiness.
She heard footsteps approach but didn't look up. She didn't care who it was.
"Siren?" It was Sabo's voice, cautious and strained. He stopped a few paces away, his shadow falling over her. "We need to move. The Marines are retreating, but they might regroup. It's not safe here."
She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on Ace's lifeless face. She wanted to stay in this moment. With him.
Sabo stepped closer, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "Siren, please. You're hurt. You need to let us help you."
Still, she didn't move. She couldn't even speak. Feelings inside her drowned her voice.
Trafalgar Law appeared beside Sabo, his expression unreadable. His sharp eyes swept over her, lingering on her trembling hands and the unnatural stillness of her face. "She's in shock," he muttered, kneeling beside her. "If we leave her like this, she'll collapse before we even make it to the ships."
Law glanced at Sabo. "Hold Ace. I'll take her."
Sabo hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked at Siren, then at Ace. Finally, he stepped forward, his movements careful and deliberate. "Siren," he said gently, crouching down. "I'm going to take him now. You need to let go."
For a moment, it seemed like she hadn't heard him. Then, slowly, her arms loosened, and Sabo carefully lifted Ace from her lap. Her hands fell limply to her sides, her gaze dropping to the ground.
Law wasted no time. He moved behind her, sliding his arms beneath her knees and around her back. "I've got you," he said quietly, though she made no sign of acknowledgment.
As Law lifted her, she didn't resist. She didn't react at all. Her head rested against his chest, her eyes dull and unfocused.
"She's out of it," Law murmured to Sabo, who stood nearby with Ace's body cradled in his arms. "We need to move now."
Sabo nodded, his face tight with emotion. "Let's go."
Behind them, the survivors began to regroup, casting wary glances at Siren as Law carried her away. Her glowing presence had dimmed, but the memory of her wrath lingered in their minds like an echo.
And still, Siren didn't look back. She couldn't feel anything but the hollow ache in her chest, and even that seemed far away.
...
As they moved through the chaos of Marineford, Siren remained limp in Law's arms, her expression blank and unseeing. Behind them, Sabo carried Ace's lifeless body with a reverence that weighed as much as the grief etched into his face. Every step felt like a betrayal, every movement a reminder of the hole Ace's absence had left in their hearts.
Luffy, who had been staggering just a few feet ahead with Ace's cowboy hat pressed to his heart, suddenly collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Luffy!" Whitebeard's booming voice rang out, commanding the attention of everyone nearby. He moved forward with surprising speed for a man of his size and injuries, his broad shoulders shaking with the weight of loss and worry.
Marco, barely holding himself upright, stumbled toward Luffy, his wings flickering weakly as his energy faltered. Blood trickled down his face, and his usually steady gaze was clouded with exhaustion. "We... we need to help him." His voice was hoarse, strained from the battle and the emotional toll.
Law set Siren down gently against a nearby wall, kneeling beside her for a moment to assess her condition. "Stay here," he murmured, though her lack of response made it clear she wasn't processing his words. Rising, he turned his attention to Luffy.
Whitebeard knelt beside his youngest subordinate, his massive hand trembling as he reached out to check Luffy's pulse. "He's burning up. Exhaustion, overuse of Haki... and grief."
Law crouched beside him, his brows furrowed in concentration. "He's critical, but I can stabilize him. He's strong. He'll pull through."
"Do it," Whitebeard commanded, his voice heavy with unspoken pain.
Marco dropped to one knee, his breath ragged. "I can help with his healing... but I'm running on fumes."
"You're in no shape to help anyone," Whitebeard growled, his voice laced with concern. He placed a hand on Marco's shoulder, steadying him. "Rest, son. You've done enough."
Marco shook his head stubbornly, his eyes burning with determination. "Not... enough. I couldn't save him." His voice cracked, and his gaze shifted to Ace's body in Sabo's arms. "I couldn't save either of them."
Sabo's grip tightened on Ace as he lowered his head, silent tears streaming down his face. "None of us could."
Whitebeard's crew began to gather around their captain, their faces pale and grief-stricken. Even the strongest among them-men who had faced death a hundred times before-looked broken. Ace had been their brother, their family. His loss was a wound that would never truly heal.
Whitebeard straightened, his towering form casting a shadow over the assembled group. "We grieve for Ace, but we must not falter," he said, his deep voice resonating with authority. "Those who remain are counting on us to lead them to safety. We cannot let his sacrifice be in vain."
As the crew nodded, gathering their strength, a soft sound drew their attention. Siren's head had tilted slightly, her eyes barely focusing as she murmured something under her breath.
"Siren?" Law knelt beside her again, his sharp gaze scanning her pale face.
She didn't respond, her lips moving soundlessly as if she were speaking to someone they couldn't see.
"She's not herself," Sabo said, his voice tight with worry. "We need to get her and Luffy back to safety. They're not going to make it if we stay here any longer."
Whitebeard nodded, his expression grim. "Agreed. Gather everyone who's still standing. We leave now."
...
As the crew rallied to move, the battlefield grew eerily quiet. The Marines who had survived the tsunami lingered at a distance, their ranks shattered and their spirits broken. Even the remaining Warlords seemed hesitant to act, their confidence shaken by the wrath of nature they had witnessed.
But the silence was heavy with unspoken grief, and every step away from the battlefield felt like a weight pressing down on their souls.
Ace was gone. Luffy was barely holding on. And Siren, their wrathful goddess, was now as fragile as glass.
...
The island Amazon Lilly was a sanctuary of vivid greenery, cradled by the sea and blessed with serene skies. Yet, its tranquility was now marred by the heavy burden of grief and despair. The survivors of Marineford-Whitebeard's crew, Trafalgar Law, and the few allies who remained-had brought the gravely wounded here to heal and regroup.
Among them, the most critical were Siren, Luffy, and Marco.
Law stood in the shade of a massive tree, sleeves rolled up, his hands stained with blood as he worked tirelessly. He had set up a makeshift infirmary near the shore, using what supplies he could scavenge. His concentration was unyielding, but his thoughts were weighed down by a sense of guilt he couldn't shake.
Siren, the being who had summoned the wrath of the sea, now lay as still as the tide at dawn. Her pale face was a shadow of the fury she had embodied on the battlefield. She hadn't spoken since they arrived, her hollow eyes staring at the sky as if searching for something beyond the horizon.
Marco, propped against a tree trunk, was in little better shape. His regenerative abilities had been pushed far beyond their limits, and though his wounds were mostly healed, exhaustion and heartbreak left him weakened.
And then there was Luffy, the one who carried the most physical scars alongside his emotional ones. He lay unconscious, his breaths shallow and uneven. His body was ravaged by overexertion, his willpower the only thing that had kept him alive until now.
Law moved between his patients with precision, his mind racing as he monitored their conditions. He paused by Siren, kneeling beside her with a deep sigh.
"You're not the only one who's lost someone," he murmured, his tone low but firm. "But if you keep slipping away like this, Ace's sacrifice will mean nothing."
Her gaze flickered briefly, but no response came.
Law clenched his jaw, his own emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. "You saved everyone back there. You avenged your lover. But now we need you to fight again-to stay alive. For the baby. For Marco. For Luffy."
He rose abruptly, turning his attention to Luffy, whose condition was the most precarious. Law activated hisRoom, carefully working to stabilize the young captain's internal injuries.
As he worked, Whitebeard's massive form loomed nearby. The old man sat on the ground, leaning heavily on his bisento. His grief was palpable, but he remained a pillar of strength for his crew.
"How's the boy?" Whitebeard rumbled, his deep voice breaking the silence.
"Alive," Law replied curtly. "For now. But he's on the edge. If we can get through the next few days without complications, he'll make it. Same for Marco." He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward Siren. "She's another story."
Whitebeard's brows furrowed as he looked at her fragile form. "She's stronger than she looks. She'll come back to us."
"I hope so," Law said, his voice laced with doubt.
As Law returned to his work, Sabo approached, his eyes red from hours of silent weeping. He knelt beside Siren, taking her hand gently in his.
"Siren," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I know you're hurting. I am too. But... Ace wouldn't want this. He'd want you to keep fighting. For Luffy and Marco. For everyone who still needs you."
Her fingers twitched slightly in his grasp, the first sign of life she'd shown since they arrived.
"You're not alone," Sabo continued. "None of us are. We'll get through this together."
Behind him, the Whitebeard Pirates and their allies began to gather. Despite their own injuries, they worked to fortify their temporary camp, driven by the shared determination to protect the fragile hope that still lingered among them.
For them, Ace's death was not just a loss-it was a rallying cry. They had to live. They had to survive. Not for themselves, but for the ones who could no longer fight beside them.
As the sun set over the island, casting a warm orange glow across the horizon, Law finally allowed himself a moment to breathe. His eyes wandered to Siren, who remained still but no longer lifeless.
"I owe you a debt for Doflamingo," he murmured quietly to her, though he knew she couldn't hear. "This is the least I can do."
And so, the island became a haven for grief, healing, and reflection. It was a place where the wounds of Marineford could begin to scar over, even if they would never truly heal.
...
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows over the camp, Whitebeard approached Siren with slow, measured steps.
She was still seated, cradling Ace's cloak like it was the only thing tethering her to the world. Her empty gaze reflected the setting sun, but she didn't seem to see it.
The giant of a man knelt beside her, the earth trembling slightly beneath his weight. For all his power and strength, he seemed small in this moment, his grief a heavy shroud around his massive shoulders.
"Siren," he began, his deep voice softer than anyone had ever heard it. "I've seen many things in my years. I've watched sons rise and fall. I've felt the sting of loss, the weight of decisions that can't be undone." He paused, his gaze fixed on her hollow expression. "But I've also seen strength. The kind that comes not from power, but from love. The love you showed my son-your brother-was something no devil fruit or weapon could ever match."
Her fingers twitched slightly, clutching the fabric of Ace's cloak a little tighter.
"You brought the sea itself to its knees," Whitebeard continued, his voice thick with pride. "You are his sister. You are my daughter. And I couldn't be prouder of you."
For the briefest of moments, a tear slipped down Siren's cheek, though her expression didn't change. Whitebeard reached out, his massive hand resting gently on her shoulder. "It's okay to grieve, my girl. It's okay to hurt. But don't let it consume you. Ace wouldn't want that. And neither do we."
Behind him, Izo stepped forward, his expression both gentle and resolute. He carried a tray with water and some simple food, setting it down beside Siren with great care.
"I'll look after her, Pops," Izo said softly. He knelt beside Siren, his movements careful and deliberate, as though tending to a fragile piece of porcelain. "Whatever she needs, I'll make sure she gets it. She's family. And we take care of family."
From a short distance, Vista and Namur sat together, their eyes flicking between Marco, who lay unconscious but stable, and Siren. The swordsman's usual cheer had dimmed, but his presence was steady as he whispered words of encouragement to Namur.
"She's stronger than this," Vista murmured. "We've seen it. She'll come back to us. But it's going to take time."
Namur nodded solemnly. "And until then, we'll be here. For her. For Marco. For all of them."
...
Elsewhere in the camp, Boa Hancock moved with a grace that seemed out of place amid the somber atmosphere. Her gaze swept over the injured and grieving before settling on Luffy, who lay pale and unmoving under a canopy of trees.
Sabo sat at his brother's side, his hand resting on Luffy's shoulder as though willing him to wake up. His eyes were bloodshot, his posture rigid, but there was a quiet strength in his presence.
Hancock's initial intention to check on Luffy wavered as she observed Sabo. There was something about him-the way he bore the weight of his own grief without letting it consume him-that caught her attention.
"You care for him deeply," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
Sabo glanced up at her, surprised. "He's my brother," he said simply. "He's my reason for fighting."
Hancock found herself admiring his resolve. She sat down beside him, her usual regal demeanor softened. "You have a strength that many lack," she said. "Not just in battle, but in heart."
Sabo offered a faint smile. "Luffy taught me that. And Ace." His expression darkened briefly. "We owe it to them to keep going."
...
Meanwhile, Trafalgar Law refused to leave Siren's side for long. He had exhausted himself working to stabilize Luffy and Marco, but his focus always returned to her.
"Dammit, Siren," he muttered under his breath as he crouched beside her. "You can't just fade away like this. You're stronger than this."
He grasped her hand, his grip firm but not harsh. "I know you're hurting. I know it feels like the world's ended. But you can't give up. Not now. Not after everything."
When she remained unresponsive, he let out a frustrated growl and pulled her into a fierce embrace. "If yelling at you doesn't work, then maybe this will," he said, his voice cracking. "You're not alone. You hear me? You're not alone."
...
As the hours passed, Marco finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open to a blur of light and shadows. His body ached in ways he hadn't thought possible, but his first thought wasn't of himself.
"Siren," he croaked, his voice barely audible.
Vista was at his side instantly, steadying him as he tried to sit up. "Easy, Marco. You're not in any shape to move."
"Don't care," Marco rasped, his determination shining through his exhaustion. "I need... I need to be with her."
Vista exchanged a glance with Namur, who nodded in understanding. Together, they helped Marco to his feet and guided him toward Siren.
When he reached her, Marco dropped to his knees, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch her shoulder.
"Siren," he said softly, his voice filled with pain and longing. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."
Her gaze shifted slightly, her eyes flickering toward him for the first time. It was barely perceptible, but it was enough to fill Marco's heart with hope.
"We'll get through this," he promised. "Together."
...
The camp was eerily quiet save for the faint crackle of fires and the rustle of the ocean breeze. Everyone was recovering in their own way, but the atmosphere was heavy, the shadow of Marineford's battle looming over them like a specter.
Trafalgar Law, however, wasn't resting. His sharp eyes were bloodshot, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the unrelenting pressure he put on himself. He flitted between Luffy, Marco, and Siren, his mind racing to keep them all alive.
Law crouched by Siren again, his hands trembling from exhaustion as he checked her vitals for the tenth time. "You're not giving me much to work with, Siren," he muttered under his breath. "Come on, give me something. Anything."
She sat motionless, her hand idly stroking the soft fur of Bepo, who had settled beside her like a guardian. His large, warm presence seemed to bring her some small comfort, though her expression remained blank.
"Bepo," Law snapped, his voice sharper than intended. "Don't let her zone out completely. Keep her grounded."
Bepo nodded, his soft eyes filled with worry. "Captain, she's trying... in her own way. Maybe this is all she can manage right now."
Law ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Trying isn't enough. Not this time."
He moved to check her pulse again, his hands firm but gentle. "Siren, you've fought harder than this before. You can't stop now. Do you hear me?"
Her fingers twitched slightly, continuing to run through Bepo's fur. It was the only response she gave.
...
Nearby, Marco sat beside her, his normally composed expression shattered by guilt. His shoulders slumped as he stared at the ground, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.
"I wasn't strong enough," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't save Ace. I couldn't protect you, Siren. I failed."
Vista, who had been standing nearby, moved quickly to kneel beside him. "Marco, stop it. You did everything you could."
"No, I didn't!" Marco's voice cracked, and he turned to Vista, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I was supposed to protect them. That's what I swore to do. And I failed. Siren is broken!"
Before Vista could respond, Izo appeared, pulling Marco into a tight embrace. The weight of Marco's grief finally broke free as he clung to Izo, his tears falling freely.
"It's not your fault," Izo murmured, his voice soothing. "None of this is your fault."
Namur and Vista joined them, placing comforting hands on Marco's back as he cried. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for the usually strong and stoic phoenix, and it only deepened the resolve of those around him to protect what remained of their family.
...
Law, however, wasn't about to give up. He stepped away briefly to rest his shaking hands, but his eyes never left Siren.
"Dammit," he muttered, pacing back and forth. "We can't lose her. Not after everything she did for us."
He returned to her side, dropping to his knees. "Siren," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "Please. I know it hurts. I know it feels like there's nothing left. But you're still here. And as long as you're here, I'll keep fighting for you."
When she didn't respond, he clenched his jaw and leaned closer, his hand resting over hers. "If you're not going to fight for yourself, then fight for us. For Ace. For the people who need you."
His words hung in the air, unanswered. Law let out a frustrated sigh and dropped his head, his shoulders shaking slightly as he fought against his own exhaustion and despair.
Bepo shifted slightly, his large paw reaching out to nudge Siren's arm. "We're here for you," he said softly. "All of us."
For a moment, it seemed like nothing would change. But then, Siren's hand tightened ever so slightly around Bepo's fur. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make Law's head snap up.
"She's still in there," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I'm not giving up on her. Not now, not ever."
...
The air around the camp was thick with silence and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore, a harsh reminder of the battle they had all just survived. Law was at a loss for how to move forward. He had tried everything he knew, and yet Siren remained locked in a world of emotional numbness. She was there in body, but her spirit seemed to be elsewhere, lost in a void too vast to cross.
Law's hands trembled as he slowly sat down beside her once more, his exhausted body sagging with the weight of his failure. Bepo, ever vigilant, stayed by Siren's side, his large, gentle eyes watching her with an unspoken understanding.
"Siren," Law whispered softly, his voice cracking slightly from fatigue and desperation. "Please. You have to come back. I can't heal you alone."
But Siren didn't respond. She merely continued to pet Bepo absently, the emptiness in her gaze as unsettling as the stillness around them.
Law closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to contain his frustration.What more can I do?His mind raced, searching for any solution, any sign that might pull her from the depths of her grief. And then it came to him-something small, but perhaps the one thing he hadn't tried.
He stood up, moved to a nearby bag, and fumbled around for his equipment. With a deep breath, he pulled out a stethoscope.I'll try this... Maybe it'll help.
He knelt beside her again, his movements deliberate as he gently placed the stethoscope to her ears. His hands were soft, almost reverent, as he positioned the other side on her abdomen.
"Siren," he whispered again, this time more gently, as he adjusted the earpieces. "Listen... just listen."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Siren's eyes shifted. She blinked once, slowly, as though the world was beginning to come into focus. She could hear it-the gentle thud of her child's heartbeat, a rhythmic, comforting sound that filled the void she had been drifting in. The sound of life.
It was as if something inside her shattered.
Tears, hot and relentless, began to pour from her eyes. They streamed down her face. She eventually collapsed forward, burying her face into Law's chest. Her body trembled with each sob, but still, she could not speak. She only wept.
Law, taken aback by the sudden surge of emotion, was momentarily frozen. He hadn't anticipated this. But then, instinct took over. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her to him with a tenderness that he reserved only for those he deeply cared for.
He kissed the top of her head softly, his lips brushing against her hair as he whispered words of comfort. "It's okay. It's okay, Siren. I'm here. You don't have to be alone anymore."
Her body shook in his arms as the tears didn't stop. He held her for what felt like an eternity, rocking her gently, letting her cry out all the pain she had been holding in. His heart ached for her, for everything she had been through. He had been so focused on fixing her, on stopping the pain, but now he realized that the best thing he could do was simply be there with her.
Law continued to hold her, his own exhaustion forgotten in the face of her grief. He let her cry as long as she needed, whispering calming words between her sobs.
"Shh... It's okay. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."
It wasn't a quick fix. There was no miracle cure to undo the damage that had been done. But in that moment, something shifted. Siren's body was still locked in the grip of grief, but the tears were a release. A sign that she was still alive, still connected to the world she had fought so fiercely to protect.
Eventually, the sobs began to quiet, and Siren's breathing, though shaky, started to even out. Law didn't let go. He simply held her, feeling the warmth of her body against his as her tears slowly faded away.
"I'll always be here, Siren," Law repeated softly, kissing the top of her head again. "No matter what. You don't have to face this alone."
It was the first step toward healing. Not just for Siren, but for them all.
...
As the days passed, Law found himself drawn to Siren in ways he hadn't expected. There had been a time when his dreams were all that mattered-becoming the Pirate King, achieving the impossible, creating his own legacy. But as he watched Siren, broken and lost, clinging to the faintest of hopes, something deep inside him shifted. She had given everything, not just for her own survival, but for the world that now seemed on the brink of ruin. And now, with her soul so fractured, he realized something profound: She needed him. And he needed her.
Law had never imagined that he'd abandon his dreams for someone else, but here he was, his resolve shifting as he thought about the future. No longer did he care about ruling the seas. What mattered now was standing beside Siren, helping her heal, and being the pillar she needed in her darkest moments. She had given him a sense of purpose that had eluded him for so long. And with the child growing inside her, that purpose only deepened.
He spent every moment by her side, silently vowing to be the one constant in her life. No matter what happened, he would stay with her. He would be her anchor as she navigated the storm of grief, loss, and healing.
And he would help her with Marco. Marco, the one person who understood her soul, who was bound to her in ways Law had only begun to comprehend. The two of them, Marco and Siren-they were like two halves of the same whole. Their grief intertwined, each one feeding the other, like a cycle that couldn't be broken. But where Marco's grief seemed to spiral back toward Siren, hers only grew, overwhelming her and threatening to consume her completely.
Law spent hours with Marco, trying to understand how they could help each other, how Marco could help him understand what Siren was going through. Marco spoke of their past, of the things they had shared as children, of how Siren's ability to heal had always come at a price. Law's eyes widened as Marco spoke of the cost, how Siren's healing could take years from both of their life, aging them in ways that defied logic. And when she healed someone on the brink of death-someone like Marco or Thatch-the price was steep. Both Marco and Siren would age rapidly, sometimes as much as five years in an instant, the toll taken from their bodies, but not their souls.
Law couldn't help but marvel at the strength it took for Siren to endure such a price, to carry that burden for so long. She had never asked for anything in return. It made his own struggles seem trivial by comparison.
...
The group had gathered by the campfire, their wounds tended to, but their hearts still heavy with the weight of their loss. Siren sat silently, her expression unreadable as always, but Law could see the faint tremors in her hands. She was struggling to stay present, her mind still lost in a world of grief.
He approached her slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We need to go to Luffy," he said quietly.
Siren didn't respond, but Law could see the smallest flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes. She stood, swaying slightly as though the weight of her grief had made her feel as though she were walking underwater.
They approached Luffy, wigh Marco following them. Luffy was still unconscious, his body battered from the battle. As Law helped Siren sit beside him, she hesitated for only a moment before her hands hovered above Luffy's injuries. She seemed to instinctively reach out, as if the act of healing was the only thing that could fill the void within her.
A faint glow began to emanate from her hands, and Law's heart skipped a beat. He watched as Siren's energy seemed to flow into Luffy, her healing power working its magic. But then he saw it-the faint, almost imperceptible signs of aging appearing on her skin. The toll was already taking hold, and Law's stomach turned. Marco lounged forward, words on his lips but Law was quicker.
"Stop," he whispered urgently, his voice hoarse with concern. "Siren, stop! You can't..."
But Siren didn't seem to hear or notice them. The glow around her hands intensified, and the lines on her face and Marco's deepened. She was giving more than she should.
"Enough!" Law shouted, his voice sharper now. He grabbed her wrist above where Marco held her and tried pulling her hands away from Luffy before the healing could go further.
Siren blinked, as though coming out of a trance, her eyes confused. She glanced at Law, but there was no recognition, only a deep sadness.
Marco's expression darkened as he adressed her. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tight with concern. "Siren, you can't heal him like that. You know the cost."
Law turned to Marco, his face grim. "What do you mean?"
Marco looked down at Siren, his expression softening with a mixture of sorrow and understanding. "The cost of healing someone on the brink of death... It's too much for her. She ages. She's been doing it for years now, every time she heals someone in a life-or-death situation. I've seen it before. She can't keep pushing herself like this. Especially not now when she is pregnant. It would kill the child..."
Law's eyes widened in realization. The weight of Marco's words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had never fully understood what it meant for Siren to heal others, to give her life force to save theirs. He could see now that Siren wasn't just healing her friends-she was giving up her own future, piece by piece. And Law couldn't let that happen. Not to her.
"I won't let you do this anymore," Law said, his voice firm. He placed his hand gently on Siren's cheek, brushing away a tear. "We'll figure out another way. I promise you."
Marco gave Law a small nod, and Law could see the shared understanding between them. They were both invested in Siren's well-being now, in her future. Whatever it took, they would protect her-protect her from herself if necessary.
...
Later that night, as Siren rested beside Luffy, Law could still hear the faint sound of Marco's voice, low and broken. Marco was speaking to Siren, his words barely audible, but filled with emotion.
"I'm sorry, Siren," Marco said, his voice choked with grief. "I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't protect you. I couldn't protect Ace."
Siren didn't respond, but Law knew Marco's grief was shared, that it was a pain they both carried together. And in that moment, Law realized just how deeply the bond between Marco and Siren ran. It wasn't just a shared history-it was a soul-deep connection, one that neither time nor loss could sever.
Law sat quietly beside them, offering his silent support, knowing that healing would take time. But he had made a choice. He would be there for Siren, and he would help her rebuild, piece by piece.
...
The room was dim, filled with the quiet sounds of the restless ocean waves crashing against the island's shore. The air was heavy with grief, loss, and the tension of a world that had been irrevocably changed. Law sat next to Siren, who remained motionless, her gaze fixed on the far horizon, her eyes lost in the endless expanse. Her grief had overtaken her, leaving her a shell of the woman she once was. It had been days since she had spoken, and Law couldn't help but feel the weight of her silence pressing down on him.
He had been trying-trying so hard-to get through to her. To make her see that she couldn't keep punishing herself, that she couldn't just shut herself off from the world. But no matter what he did, she remained detached, distant. It was as though a barrier had formed around her, one that no one could breach.
Law's eyes flickered over to Marco, who was sitting nearby, looking just as broken as Siren. He could see the strain on Marco's face, the way he longed for a connection, for just a single word from her, a sign that she was still with him. The bond between the two was undeniable. But it was clear that Siren's absence from the world was crushing Marco. And that was something Law couldn't allow.
He had to do something drastic. He had to shake her out of this catatonic state.
"Siren," Law said quietly, his voice firm, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn't respond, but he could feel her slight trembling. He had to take it further.
"I know you're in pain. I know you're grieving. But this... this isn't just about you. It's about Marco, too," Law continued, his tone steely with conviction. "You're not punishing yourself alone. You're punishing him, too. Every moment you stay like this, you're breaking him, piece by piece."
At the words, Siren's breath hitched slightly, but she didn't move. Law's words cut deeper than he expected, and he knew that in some way, they were reaching her. But it wasn't enough. He needed more.
"Siren," he said again, his voice sharper now, "if you're ever going to heal, you need to stop pushing Marco away. He needs you. He loves you. But you have toseehim,hearhim, before it's too late or you will lose him too. Just like you did Ace."
His words were like a catalyst. Siren's hand trembled, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, her lips parted, as though fighting against the heaviness that had silenced her.
"Marco," she whispered, so faintly that Law almost didn't hear her.
"Marco," she said again, louder this time, as though testing the word on her tongue.
"Marco," she uttered once more, and then, finally-her eyes found Marco's. A wave of emotion rushed over her, and the dam that had held back her sorrow began to break.
Tears spilled from her eyes, and she fell forward, her arms shaking as she reached for Marco. He was already there, pulling her into his embrace, his arms wrapping around her tightly, holding her as if she were the last thing in the world that mattered.
"I'm here," Marco whispered desperately, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm here. I'm so glad you're alive, Siren. I... I don't know what I would do without you."
Siren clung to him, her breath ragged, her chest heaving as the tears came in torrents. The rawness of their grief-the way it had consumed both of them-was finally released in that moment. Siren whispered his name again and again, like a lifeline, like a mantra that anchored her back to the present.
"I'm glad you're alive and here with me," Marco continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm glad we'll have Ace's baby. A little spade... I know Ace would've wanted this. He would've been so proud."
At the mention of their child, Siren's sobs deepened, and she whispered softly, "Little spade..."
The name felt like a soft promise, a tribute to their lover they had lost, to Ace who had given his life so they could have this chance. Marco kissed the top of her head, pressing her close as he held her through the storm of emotions.
"I will protect you," Marco whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke to Siren, his love for her evident in every word. "I swear, I'll protect you. I'll protect our little spade. And I'll never leave you. I'll do my very best."
...
Law stood in the background, watching the reunion between Marco and Siren. His heart clenched as he saw the two of them finally reconnect, as Marco's presence seemed to reignite the flame in Siren's heart. There was still so much pain in her eyes, but it was a step forward. He could see that Siren was coming back to herself, bit by bit, with Marco's help.
Law had hoped to ease the burden on her, to help her heal, but in this moment, he realized something. He couldn't be the one to fix everything. Marco was her anchor-her past, her present, and her future. It was Marco who had the power to mend the rift in her soul, to help her see that she was still worth fighting for.
He didn't resent that. He accepted it. Siren and Marco shared something deep, something that transcended words. But Law was also determined to stay by her side, to help her as she navigated this journey of healing.
He turned away, quietly slipping from the room, allowing the two of them the space they needed. But as he left, he made one silent vow to himself: No matter what happened, he would stand by her, and he would protect both her and the child she carried.
...
As Siren sat with Marco, the weight of the world seemed to lift, just a little. Her body was still fragile, her spirit battered, but Marco's presence was like a balm to the wounds that ran deep inside her. Slowly, she began to reach out to those around her. She had been distant for so long, but the small gestures of love and reassurance were starting to seep through the cracks in her shell.
First, she squeezed Law's hand. He had been there for her, had pushed her to the brink, and she had resisted, but now, as she looked at him, she saw not a doctor or a pirate, but someone who cared for her deeply. Her eyes softened, and without words, she conveyed her thanks. Law smiled back at her, not expecting any grand gesture, but knowing the meaning behind the small touch. It was all they needed, for now.
She rose from Marco's side, her legs still weak, and approached Whitebeard. He looked up at her with the same gruff expression, but there was something more there-a tenderness that had been hidden behind his rugged exterior. Siren didn't speak. Instead, she sat beside him, her head resting against his broad chest. She sought comfort in him, not for her pain, but because she knew he had seen so much loss in his life. His strength was a quiet reassurance.
"I'm glad you're all right," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. Whitebeard's weathered hand gently caressed her head, his fingers threading through her hair.
"You're still alive, lass," Whitebeard said with a voice full of quiet pride. "That's what matters."
Siren smiled faintly, her fingers reaching out to touch his hand, a silent thanks for the protection he had always offered her and the crew.
As she continued to interact with those around her, each touch, each gentle movement, felt like a slow and careful unburdening. She reached over to Izo, who had been watching over her from a distance. He knelt down before her, concern evident in his eyes.
Siren looked at him with quiet gratitude, then slowly reached for his hands. "Thank you... for taking care of me."
Izo smiled, his fingers gently touching her swollen belly. "We're a family, Siren," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We'll take care of you. And of the little one."
She placed her hand over his, her eyes fluttering shut at the gesture of kindness. It was a moment of peace, a small thread of normalcy in the chaos.
Next, she went to Luffy, who had been recovering in the room next door. His wounds had been treated, but his body was still exhausted from the ordeal. Siren bent over him gently, her heart aching at the sight of his unconscious form. She caressed his cheek tenderly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. She whispered softly, "I'm glad you're still here, Luffy... we'll make it through. I promise."
Luffy's brow furrowed slightly at the kiss, but he remained still, oblivious to the quiet plea in her words. Siren lingered there for a moment, her breath steadying as she placed a final soft kiss on his forehead.
As she sat back, Marco's presence was like a constant, a reassuring weight beside her. He had always been there for her, and now, she was there for him, more than ever. She held his hand, their fingers intertwined, as they sat in silence. There was so much they had yet to heal from, but for now, they simply held on to each other.
Law observed the way Siren sought connection with those around her, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He had never been someone to reach out for comfort, but seeing Siren's ability to do so, to finally begin mending the broken pieces of her heart, made him realize how far she had come.
He stood up and walked toward her, slowly but surely, and then pulled her into an embrace. She hesitated for only a moment before she returned the hug, holding on tightly, as though afraid he might vanish if she let go.
"I'm not going anywhere," Law whispered in her ear. "You're not alone anymore. And thank you for not giving up."
Siren felt the sincerity in his words. The weight of her grief had been so consuming, so blinding, but now, she was starting to realize that there were people who cared for her. People who wanted to help her carry this burden.
...
The days passed slowly, but with each small connection, with each word spoken, Siren began to find herself again. Her grief wasn't gone, but the edges had softened. Marco's love had brought her back, and in turn, she had begun to heal.
And though the road ahead was still uncertain, with the baby growing inside her and the weight of Ace's memory heavy on her heart, Siren knew she wasn't alone anymore. She had a family-one she had fought for, one she had lost, but now one she would fight to protect.
As the night fell, Siren lay beside Marco, her hand resting over her belly. She felt the faintest flutter inside her, a sign of life, of hope.
The pain was still there. The grief was still there. But for the first time in a long time, there was light, and there was love. And with that, Siren knew they would make it through. Together.
...
Siren lay beside Marco, their fingers intertwined, her body still trembling with the remnants of grief. Her eyes were closed, but her mind, her heart, was full of him-the comfort he brought, the strength he gave her. He was the anchor in the storm of sorrow. Still, despite everything, there was a deep well of yearning inside her that couldn't be filled by the warmth of mere touch.
Her gaze shifted to Marco. The pain in his eyes mirrored her own. They had both been broken, but together, they had learned to breathe again.
"Marco..." Siren whispered, her voice trembling as she spoke his name for the first time in what felt like ages. She had said it quietly before, but now it felt like an offering-a confession, a promise.
Marco gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing her cheek. His gaze softened, the fierce sorrow in his eyes fading just enough for love to peek through. He had seen the depths of her grief, had witnessed the way it consumed her, and he had been beside her every step of the way. He hadn't been able to save Ace, but now, here in this moment, he could be there for her.
"You're not alone," Marco said softly, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "I'm here, always. With you."
Siren's heart clenched, but a warmth began to spread from the inside. Slowly, she leaned into his touch, closing the distance between them until she was pressed against him. Her lips brushed softly against his as if asking for permission, and he responded with an unspoken yes. The kiss deepened, and her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer.
This moment wasn't about the past or the grief they shared. It was about them-about finding something new. It wasn't healing in the traditional sense, but it was the first step toward reclaiming joy.
Their bodies met in a rhythm that felt both familiar and new, a dance of tenderness and longing. As their connection deepened, the weight of the world seemed to melt away, replaced by something more pure, more powerful. They were no longer two broken souls drifting apart-they were two forces coming together, as one.
Siren's breath hitched as she felt the intense wave of emotion building inside her, but it wasn't just from the passion that surged through her body. It was a deep, almost spiritual connection to Marco, to the man who had never given up on her. It was more than just the warmth of his touch; it was the completeness of him, filling the empty spaces she hadn't realized were still there.
And then, in that final, climactic moment when they reached the peak together, there was a profound sense of unity, of peace. The connection between them deepened even further, the boundaries of their souls blending together.
In the midst of their union, Ace's presence filled the room like a gentle breeze-a whisper of something lost, something never forgotten. It was subtle at first, an intangible presence, like a warm memory brushing their hearts. Siren's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.
"Ace?" she whispered softly, as though speaking his name would bring him closer. Her hand pressed against her belly instinctively. Marco could feel the tremor run through her, could sense the moment she felt it too.
The air shifted, charged with an energy neither of them could quite explain, but it was unmistakable. Ace's soul, his essence, reached out to them-filling the spaces that had been left vacant by loss. It was as if Ace was there, speaking to them through their shared bond.
A rush of emotion flooded Siren's chest, the grief mingling with the warmth of Ace's love. She felt him there, a part of them both, his presence lingering like a ghostly embrace, as if to say goodbye, but in a way that only they could understand.
"Ace," Siren whispered again, her voice shaking, but this time, it wasn't just grief. It was love, it was loss, it was closure. It was a release.
Marco held her tightly, his own heart aching with the same bittersweet sorrow. He could feel it, too. Ace was there, and for just a moment, they were all together again. Siren's body shuddered as she cried, but these weren't tears of anguish. They were tears of recognition, of understanding. She felt at peace, for the first time in so long.
Marco pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I promise you, Siren. We'll be okay. We'll keep his memory alive. And we'll raise this child... Ace's child. We'll give him everything."
Siren nodded, her hand resting gently on her belly, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Little Spade," she murmured softly, and the words felt right. They felt like a promise.
And then, with a gentle surge of realization, they both understood-Ace's soul wasn't gone. He was inside her, with them. Through the bond they shared, Ace was there, loving them fiercely, completely. They weren't just carrying his memory. They were carrying his essence, his soul. It would always be a part of them, and through their love for each other, Ace would live on.
...
Siren had not been able to stop touching her chest since the night she and Marco had felt Ace's soul. It was there, right beside her heart, warm and alive in a way that defied logic. Ace wasn't gone, not entirely. His soul had settled within her, a constant presence that brought both solace and sorrow. The child growing inside her was Ace's, biologically and unmistakably. Ace's soul lay with her, nestled close to her heart, as if he were guarding her and the baby.
She felt drawn to share this revelation, to let others feel what she had felt. But more than anyone, it was Luffy and Sabo who needed to know, to believe that Ace was still with them.
Marco walked beside her as she made her way to the room where Luffy rested. His hand was wrapped around hers, grounding her, as if he could sense how fragile her resolve still was.
"Siren," Marco murmured, his voice low and full of concern. "Are you sure about this? You're still recovering..."
She turned to him, her gaze steady but tinged with sorrow. "I'm sure," she said softly. "They need to feel it too. Luffy and Sabo need to know Ace hasn't left us."
Marco hesitated but then nodded, understanding. He stayed close as they entered the room.
Luffy lay motionless on the bed, his face pale and his body frail. He looked so small, so unlike the vibrant boy she had come to love as family. Sabo was seated beside him, his shoulders slumped, his face etched with exhaustion and grief. He looked up as they entered, his expression shifting to one of tentative hope when he saw Siren.
"Siren..." Sabo rose, approaching her slowly. "You look... better. Are you?"
She gave him a small, sad smile. "I'm trying," she admitted. "But I need to show you something. Both of you."
Sabo frowned, confused, but he stepped aside as she approached Luffy's bed. Marco stayed close, his steady presence giving her the strength to continue.
Siren reached out, taking Luffy's hand in hers. His fingers were limp, his skin cool but alive. She lifted his hand and placed it gently over her heart, covering it with both of her own. Then she looked back at Sabo and held out her free hand.
"Come here, Sabo," she said softly. "You need to feel this too."
Sabo hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed, but then he stepped forward and placed his hand over hers. His larger hand enveloped hers, and together, they pressed Luffy's palm firmly against her chest. Siren closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth she felt every moment of every day-the undeniable presence of Ace's soul. She willed that presence to flow through her, into the brothers, letting them feel what she felt.
"Feel him," she whispered, her voice trembling. "He's still here. He's with us."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Sabo's breath hitched, and he froze. His eyes widened as he felt it-warmth, love, a presence so unmistakably Ace it made his knees buckle. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let out a choked sob.
"Is that...?" His voice broke as he looked at Siren, his hands trembling. "That's him. That's Ace."
She nodded, her own tears falling freely. "He's here, Sabo. He's right here, with us."
Luffy's fingers twitched against her chest, and a tear slipped from the corner of his closed eye. A soft, shuddering breath escaped his lips, and his body trembled faintly. Even in his unconscious state, he could feel it too. His face, so often twisted in pain during his recovery, softened as if a great weight had been lifted.
Siren leaned closer to Luffy, pressing her forehead gently to his. "He loves you, Luffy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "He's proud of you. He's so proud of you. And I am too."
Luffy's breathing hitched, and another tear fell. Sabo, overwhelmed with emotion, wrapped an arm around Siren, pulling her into a tight hug.
"I can't believe it," Sabo murmured, his voice thick with tears. "I thought we'd lost him forever. But he's here. He's still here."
Siren nodded against his chest, her sobs muffled by his shirt. "He's not going anywhere," she said, her voice trembling but sure. "He's staying with us. And he's protecting all of us, especially the baby."
Sabo pulled back slightly, his hand trembling as he rested it over her belly. "Ace's child..." He swallowed hard, his tears falling freely. "He would have been so happy."
"He is happy," Marco said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Siren's stomach. His voice was thick with emotion, but his eyes were steady. "I can feel it. He's... watching over us. Over her. Over all of us."
In the quiet room, surrounded by the sound of soft sobs and steady breathing, they all felt it-a warmth, a love, a presence that was unmistakably Ace. It was a reminder that while he was gone in one sense, he was still very much alive in another.
Siren stayed with Luffy abd Sabo, her heart heavy but full. For the first time since Marineford, she felt a fragile but growing hope. Ace wasn't gone. He was here, with them, where he belonged.
...
Sabo approached the small, makeshift room Siren and Marco shared on the island, holding a stack of weathered bounty posters in his hands. The posters were old, the edges curled and faded from time, but the face on them was unmistakable. Ace's familiar grin stared back at him, full of life and mischief. His heart ached, but he knew this was something Siren and Marco needed to see.
He knocked gently on the doorframe, peeking inside. Marco was sitting on the floor with Siren cradled against his chest, their grief a silent, shared weight. Siren's head rested on Marco's shoulder, her hands idly stroking the blanket covering her belly, her thoughts clearly far away.
"Sabo," Marco greeted, his voice quiet but warm. "Come in."
Sabo stepped inside, hesitant but determined. "I, uh... I thought you might want these." He held out the posters, his hand trembling slightly. "I gathered every one I could find of Ace. I know it's not the same as... as having him, but..."
Siren's gaze shifted to the stack of posters, her eyes widening slightly. Marco reached out, taking them from Sabo's hands. The two of them stared at the top poster-Ace's smiling face, a jaunty hat tilted on his head. He looked so full of life, so utterly Ace, that it was almost too much to bear.
Siren's fingers brushed over the paper, her touch gentle but trembling. "We don't have a single picture of him," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Not one. I never thought to keep one... I never thought..." Her words trailed off, swallowed by a sob.
Marco swallowed hard, his own tears threatening to fall. "Neither did I," he admitted. "I... I thought we had all the time in the world. We never thought we'd lose him."
The weight of the realization hit them both like a wave. They had nothing tangible of Ace-not a photograph, not a keepsake. Only memories, fading and fragile, and now these bounty posters that Sabo had so thoughtfully brought.
"I'm sorry," Sabo said softly, guilt lacing his tone. "I should've... I should've thought of this sooner. I just didn't want to make things harder for you."
Siren looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears but filled with gratitude. "No, Sabo," she said, her voice shaky. "Thank you. This... this means so much."
Marco wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer as they looked through the stack of posters together. Ace's face stared back at them again and again, each version of him as vibrant and alive as the last. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't him.
"I don't even have a picture of the three of us together," Siren murmured. "Or of just the two of us. Nothing."
Marco's grip tightened on her, his own heart breaking all over again. "Neither do I," he whispered. "Not a single one."
The grief between them threatened to pull them under, a tide they couldn't escape. Siren's tears spilled freely now, her shoulders shaking as she buried her face in Marco's chest. Marco held her tightly, his own tears soaking into her hair.
But then, as the sorrow reached its peak, a warmth spread through both of them-a gentle, soothing presence that eased the edges of their pain. It was Ace.
Through the bond they shared, Ace's soul reached out to them, wrapping them in a cocoon of love and comfort. The warmth was overwhelming, a silent message that was so uniquely Ace it made their tears fall harder.
You don't need pictures. I'm right here. I'll always be right here.
Siren gasped, clutching at her chest as the warmth grew stronger. "Ace..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can feel you."
Marco pressed his forehead to hers, his own tears flowing freely. "He's with us," he choked out. "He's still with us."
The grief didn't disappear, but it softened under Ace's presence. It was as if he were wrapping them in his arms, whispering to them that it was okay to cry, okay to mourn, but not to lose themselves entirely in the sorrow.
Through the bond, Ace's love poured into them, fierce and unyielding. He wasn't gone. He was here, protecting them, loving them, and reminding them that he would never truly leave.
Sabo watched silently, his own tears falling as he saw the way Siren and Marco clung to each other, their bond with Ace shining through the room like a beacon. He didn't need to feel it himself to know it was real. Ace was with them.
When the warmth finally ebbed, leaving only a lingering sense of peace, Siren looked up at Marco, her eyes still brimming with tears but filled with something new-hope.
"He's still with us," she said softly, her voice trembling but sure. "And he's not going anywhere."
Marco nodded, brushing her tears away with his thumb. "We'll keep him alive," he said, his voice firm. "In our hearts, in our child... in everything we do."
Sabo stepped closer, placing a hand on both their shoulders. "Ace wouldn't want you to keep drowning in the pain," he said gently. "He'd want you to live. To be happy."
Siren managed a small, fragile smile. "For him," she whispered. "We'll live for him."
And in that moment, surrounded by the weight of loss and the warmth of love, they made a silent promise-to honor Ace, to carry him with them, and to live a life that would make him proud.
...
Marco approached Siren later that day, his expression serious yet gentle as he knelt beside her. She was sitting under a tree, her fingers absently tracing patterns in the dirt as her mind wandered. Her belly was just beginning to show, and Marco placed a protective hand over it as he spoke softly.
"Siren," he began, his voice calm but heavy. "We need to visit Ace's grave."
She froze, her eyes widening slightly as she turned to him. "His grave?"
Marco nodded, his heart breaking at the apprehension in her voice. "We need to see it. To say goodbye properly. I think... I think it will help us heal."
Her hands trembled, and she clenched them into fists to stop the shaking. "I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice cracking. "Seeing his grave... it'll make it feel real. Too real."
Marco cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "It's already real, love," he said gently. "But we'll face it together. You don't have to do this alone."
Siren looked into his eyes, seeing the same grief that mirrored her own. She nodded hesitantly, leaning into his touch. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's go."
...
The walk to Ace's grave was quiet, the weight of what was coming settling over them both. Sabo and a few others followed at a respectful distance, giving them space but staying close enough to offer support if needed. When they finally reached the simple stone marker at the edge of a peaceful hill, Siren stopped in her tracks.
The grave was humble, marked only by a wooden cross and Ace's hat resting on top. The sight of it stole the breath from her lungs. Her legs wobbled, and Marco quickly steadied her, his arm wrapping around her waist.
Tears blurred her vision as she approached the grave slowly, her steps faltering. The closer she got, the heavier her chest felt, as if the grief itself was trying to pull her to the ground.
When she finally reached it, she sank to her knees, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch the soil. Her fingers dug into the dirt, clutching it tightly as a broken sob escaped her.
"Ace..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're really... you're really gone."
Marco knelt beside her, his hand resting on her back as his own tears fell. "He's still with us," he said softly. "But I know it's not the same."
The grief hit her like a wave, overwhelming and unrelenting. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the ground as her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs. Marco stayed by her side, his presence steady and unwavering.
Sabo stepped forward after a moment, placing Ace's old bounty poster on the grave with a shaky hand. "I miss him too," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
Siren's fingers sank deeper into the earth, as if she could somehow reach Ace by holding the ground he rested beneath. She cried until her throat was raw, her tears soaking the soil.
Then, as her sobs subsided into quiet weeping, something shifted within her. She closed her eyes, her grief giving way to a quiet resolve. She couldn't bring Ace back, but she could honor him.
Drawing on the connection she still felt to him, Siren focused on the life within her-the life that was a part of Ace. Her hands moved instinctively, pressing into the ground as a faint, warm glow emanated from her palms.
The earth beneath her hands began to stir, and tiny green shoots broke through the soil. Flowers bloomed in vibrant colors-orange, red, and yellow, reminiscent of fire, of Ace. They spread outward from the grave, blanketing the hill in a carpet of beauty and life.
Marco watched in awe as the flowers grew, their petals catching the sunlight like tiny flames. "Siren..." he whispered, his voice filled with wonder.
When she finally lifted her head, her cheeks were stained with tears, but there was a faint, bittersweet smile on her lips. "Ace would have liked this," she said softly. "He would have wanted something beautiful."
Marco wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they both gazed at the blooming hill. Sabo knelt beside them, his hand resting on the flowers, his own tears falling silently.
The grief didn't disappear, but the vibrant display of life reminded them of who Ace was-vivid, fiery, and full of love.
"He's not gone," Siren murmured, her voice steadier now. "Not really. He's with us in everything we do. And in everything we love."
Marco pressed a kiss to her temple, his heart swelling with a bittersweet mixture of pain and hope. "He'll always be with us," he agreed.
Together, they stayed by the grave, surrounded by the flowers that bloomed in Ace's honor, their grief tempered by the enduring presence of the one they had loved so deeply.
...