“If you were alive again, what would you most want to do?”
Ace opened his eyes slowly, clearly having been halfway to asleep before you spoke to him; his head rested on your lap and your fingers running through his hair. You tilted your book down to show him the map of islands you’d been looking at.
“There’s an island in here that looks quite nice,” you said. “I was thinking it might be nice to go and visit.”
He tilted his head to see the map better. “Looks fun. I haven’t been anywhere near there so I don’t know if it’s dangerous though.”
“I’d have to check to see.”
“I guess if you go, I’m probably going to join you though,” he laughed.
“Not if you don’t want to.”
He hummed and settled deeper into your lap, nudging your hand with his head to get you to play with his hair again. “If I was alive… there’s plenty of things honestly. I don’t even know where I’d start. One of the biggest ones is probably to visit this island that’s been in trouble for years now and help them get rid of the guy in charge like I promised. It’s a really nice place.”
“Immediately back into danger?” you asked.
“It’s not too dangerous.”
You laughed and shook your head. “You can’t die and immediately start looking for fights again. I was asking more like if there’s a food you’ve always wanted to try or something you’ve always wanted to do.”
“I mean as for doing things…” He raised his eyebrows playfully.
You mussed his hair, unimpressed, in response. “Not that.”
“Right, guess that could work even if I’m dead,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, you know what I really want back? My hat. I miss it so much.”
“The hat on your wanted poster?”
“Yeah! It’s my favourite and I don’t even know what happened to it. They confiscated it when I was handed over.”
You thought about it though you didn’t know nearly enough about the protocols of the marines to even begin guessing. “Maybe I can ask about it,” you said. “That’s an easy enough thing to get for you.”
He grinned at you as though you’d promised him the world itself. As though you were giving him the greatest gift of all in offering him a hat. It warmed your heart enough that you covered his eyes to stop him from making you laugh.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Looking as though I’ve already given it to you. You can be happy once I’ve actually found it.”
Ace closed his eyes under your palm, seemingly planning on sleeping again. “I know you’ll get it though. You’re good at these things.”
You moved your hand away from his eyes, smiling down at his peaceful expression.
You should talk to him about your conversation with Sabo from the day before but as much as the Revolutionary Army valued privacy, the library was still communal. The shelves towered overhead, packed so tightly with books that they swallowed sound, but not completely. Somewhere deeper in the room, pages turned.
You and Ace had managed to claim a narrow corner tucked between two shelves and the outer wall, hidden enough that most people wouldn't glance your way twice. Even so, discussing dangerous rituals in a room full of revolutionaries felt like an exceptionally poor idea.
And you hadn’t had the time during the morning or evening given that certain ghosts had been sleeping for most of it.
You were dragged from your thoughts by footsteps against the wood, purposeful and moving toward you.
The woman who walked over wasn't somebody you'd met before but something about her felt familiar. She moved with easy confidence despite the healing cuts scattered across her face and hands. Bruises darkened her skin beneath the sleeves of her clothes, remnants of battles not yet fully faded, yet none of it seemed capable of touching the calm smile she wore.
In your lap, Ace shifted, getting up slowly to see what was going on.
She didn’t hesitate to sit down on the ground across from you, long legs folded. He moved immediately so she didn’t sit through him, settling behind you, between your back and the shelves instead.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”
Her expression was pleasant but something in her gaze felt far too knowing for a random greeting. You smiled gently and extended a hand, offering your name.
“You have the look of a woman who’s heard about me,” you commented.
“I have,” she admitted. “Though I admit, I haven’t been here for very long, I did catch on some interesting conversation. More specifically, I heard that you may have been looking for my captain.”
“Your captain?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure if you still are but I’m Robin. I’ve been with the Straw Hat Pirates for quite some time now.”
Ace shifted closer to you, his knee bumping into your side and the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. “That’s Luffy’s crew,” he said. “What would she be doing here?”
You looked to him and Robin followed your gaze over your shoulder, speaking before you could offer an explanation.
“I heard about your abilities. I apologise if I came off as rude but I must say, I’ve never introduced myself to a ghost before. Certainly not one of such infamy. I discussed you so often with the others, I feel as though we’ve met before.”
Ace perked up when she spoke directly to him, grinning easily. “Really?”
You smiled at her in appreciation for the relaxed nature of her request. “I’m sorry but I’ll have to translate for you. Though he can hear you, you won’t be able to hear him.”
“That’s quite alright, I would love to speak to both of you,” she said. “It’s not every day you get the chance to talk to the dead. Where is he sitting?”
You held your hand up in front of Ace’s face. “Around here.”
He kissed your palm without warning and you startled, grinning when he immediately laughed. “You put your hand there,” he defended.
“He doesn’t move much,” you said. “So if you look in this general direction, you’ll be fine.”
“I don’t have any reason to move,” he said, dropping his chin onto your shoulder. “Does that mean Luffy’s here too?”
“He’s asking if your captain is also here,” you asked.
Robin smiled forlornly and reached for a bag she’d brought with her. Inside, she pulled out a newspaper and handed it over, tapping the front. “Unfortunately, we were separated during a battle on the Sabaody Archipelago. This is the only communication we’ve gotten from him since then.”
You held the article up to Ace, only briefly glancing across it. There was no message in the text itself but Ace pointed at the image.
“Luf doesn’t have a tattoo,” he murmured. “3D2Y?”
“The code on his arm?” you asked.
“It’s a request,” she said. “We were meant to reunite in three days but now, he wishes to change that.”
“To two years?” you asked. “That’s quite the jump.”
She nodded. “Indeed. I wish I could tell you what happened when we were separated or where the others went but truthfully, I don’t know myself. It’s the soonest I think anybody will be able to find him.”
Ace was lounging fully over your shoulders at this point, the weight against your back pushing you forward slightly as flames flickered over your body. “That makes more sense,” he said. “I thought it was weird Luf was alone when I saw him. His crew didn’t seem the kind to leave him alone for that type of fight.”
Robin smiled. “I understand it’s a wait but I hoped I could share something.”
Ace’s hair was tickling your neck and you reached up to brush it away slightly. “Ace is saying this explains things,” you told her. “He says your crew doesn’t seem like you would have separated before a fight.”
“We aren’t,” she agreed. “Not in usual circumstances but it’ll probably be better we reunite when Luffy thinks we’re ready.”
“At least this means he’s safe,” Ace said. “Maybe he took off with Shanks?”
You didn’t know but you nodded and gave the newspaper back to Robin. “Thank you. Two years is a long time but it’s the best we have.”
“Unfortunately, from what I know about your devil fruit, it might be too long,” she said. “To keep a spirit around, that is.”
“What do you mean?” Ace was more awake now, his breath tickling your skin.
You smiled at him. “Normally, I do only manage a few months at most but there are… other options,” you said.
“You’re going to keep me around for that long?” he asked, half-teasing but half-disbelieving. “That’s forever to have me following you everywhere.”
You tried to give him a look but it was hard to turn your head toward him when he was so tightly wrapped around you. Something Robin must have noticed because she looked toward your shoulder and laughed behind her hand.
“You’re quite close,” she said. “Physically, at least. I can see the compression on your shirt.”
Ace snuggled harder into your back as though proving a point and you huffed at how tightly he was holding you. “Advantages of being dead,” he said.
“That’s not the reason I let you do this,” you told him. “But yes, we are.”
Robin smiled. “Then will you be attempting it?”
Oh? You frowned, confused at how bluntly she asked, even though she shouldn’t know anything about that. But she didn’t look as though she meant it in any way other than genuine curiosity, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
“Maybe,” you said, attempting to sound non-committal. “It’s the only way to keep a spirit around more permanently.”
“What’s she talking about?” Ace asked and he sat up properly, allowing you to mourn the warmth briefly before he shuffled around so you could see his face better.
“Something my devil fruit can theoretically do,” you explained.
“Oh, you haven’t discussed it yet?” Robin asked.
“Just not in detail,” you reassured her though this wasn’t really the place to go into those details.
Ace gave you a suspicious look. “Theoretically?”
“I’ve never done it before,” you said. “But I know it has been done twice before to varying degrees of success.”
“More times than that,” Robin said and you turned to her, curious. “Though it wouldn’t be public knowledge. I think I might be able to be of some assistance. When I was younger, I had access to a library filled with knowledge from all parts of the world. Your fruit was often talked about in the pages.”
Excitement thrummed through you at the offer. “Truly?”
She nodded. “I can tell you what I know about how previous users survived the process. Though I warn you, you may wish to have a healer on standby.”
“I was already thinking of such,” you said. “I do have old journals from the previous wielder but what they knew was theoretical. Hearing what knowledge, you have would be incredibly useful.”
“If I can help, I would love to.”
Ace frowned at you. “What do you mean survive?” he repeated. “What are you going to do?”
You’d forgotten for a second in your excitement to share knowledge without having to explain that he would hear only snippets. You could see the fear beginning to settle on his face and you paused. Not the best time but what choice did you have.
“Robin,” you said. “Can we meet up here again later?”
“Of course. I’ll see you then.”
You stood quickly dusting off your clothes before you looked down at Ace. He watched you warily before he followed and you led him back to the room you’d been assigned, shoving the door closed hard behind you before you started.
“I’ll explain,” you said before he could panic. “But I wasn’t hiding it. I made the decision yesterday when we were out.”
“To do what?”
You reached for his hands and he let you take them, expression flicking around rapidly as flames curled from his shoulders. “Do you remember what Dragon said about my awakened devil fruit and how it’s a bit of a sore spot for some people?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded. “See the reason for that is, it gets a sort of single use ability. It’s not flashy or particularly safe but if I’m in a very specific place with a few small items, I can basically trade my devil fruit to reverse the crossing. So, you’d um… be able to come back through it instead.”
For a second, you saw hope in his eyes, rapidly replaced by confusion and panic. His nails bit into the skin of your wrists. “But your fruit isn’t awakened.”
You pressed your lips together in answer and Ace gave you an expression rather like a kicked puppy, his shoulders slumping.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It never really came up,” you said. “And also, it’s not really a thing I should talk about to the dead or the living. I can reverse the path of death once. Spirits who know that who aren’t anywhere near as lovely as you can become quite demanding about it.”
“But she said you could raise your chance of survival. So it’s not just a snap your fingers thing.”
You hesitated before you answered. “There is a chance it doesn’t work.”
There was a horrible, suffocating silence before Ace shook his head. “No.”
“No?” you said.
He yanked his hands out of yours so quickly that it felt like it burned. “No. You’re not dying for me. That’s not happening. I’m not going to let you… no. Don’t do that. Enough people are dead because of me already and you’re not joining them.”
“Ace, it’s only a chance.”
“It’s not worth it. I’m fine with being dead, really. I can just stay with you as a ghost and then we can still be together.”
You winced. “Not forever. Eventually, you’ll be forced to move on and that can badly hurt me too. This is the best option.”
“It’s an option that could kill you!”
“I’m not scared of death. It’s an option that could bring you back. Physically. You could talk to people and eat things without me sending them to you.”
Ace began to pace in front of you. “I don’t… you don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s better that I’m dead.”
“I very much disagree.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“You have two brothers who adore you and would both agree with me too. Your friends, as well, certainly wouldn’t prefer you to stay as a ghost. I thought you wanted to live and if this is your one chance of it, there isn’t a problem.”
He gave you a look. “I know you like me in that way but you don’t even know everything. You don’t know why they wanted me dead to begin with.”
“Because you’re a pirate?”
“Not just that.”
You stepped closer to him to try and smother some of the flames that were roaring on his forearms. He leaned into the touch for a second before he yanked his arm away, not really meeting your eyes.
“There are very few people in this world who are better off dead,” you said.
He ran his hand through his hair, almost pulling at it. “The government would want to kill you too for bringing me back.”
“Fine by me. I’ve been dealing with their crap for years now.”
“Not like this. They'd never leave you alone.”
You shrugged but his words hit a deeper fear than you wanted to acknowledge. You wouldn’t have the ability to hide anymore when your fruit was gone. But it was a worthwhile sacrifice. They were hardly about to send Cipher Pol after you.
“Look, Ace,” you said. “It’s dangerous but I kind of like having you around and I want to keep it that way.”
“Is it because I kissed you?”
You frowned. “What? No? I like you in that way too but that’s not the only reason I’d keep you around.”
“Okay but if you know then you won’t. You’re not as dumb as Luf or… I don’t know, whatever like Sabo.”
“I won’t?”
Ace hesitated, blinking at you with tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. You shook your head and stepped forward, arms sliding around him in a hug. He folded into you with such ease that it felt as though his muscles had turned to feathers; wrapping around you and clutching you closer into his chest.
“What could possibly be this big?” you asked. “That it would stop me from bringing you back.”
He shook his head. “You can’t.”
“I can but if you really think there’s something that bad then you’re going to have to tell me.”
“You can’t hate me,” he said, his voice very low. “You’re the only person who can see me. If you hate me… I don’t want to leave permanently yet.”
“I won’t hate you.” Flames licked along his arms as you tightened your hold, dancing in your peripherals. “Ace please. Just tell me.”
He buried his face into your neck, shoving himself against you as though he wanted to disappear into your body. “No.”
“Ace…”
The flames were starting to get uncomfortably hot. They crawled over his shoulders and jumped to your own, licking along your face and arms. You tightened your grip, not even flinching as the fire spluttered around you. It was starting to hurt but you weren’t letting go yet.
“There’s no secret I would hate you that much for,” you said.
A sudden flare caught the loose ends of your hair. The smell hit first, sharp and foul. You swore softly and slapped at it before the fire could spread, singed strands sticking briefly to your fingers.
“I should have told you,” he said between small hiccups. “I’m sorry. I just knew that if I told you, you wouldn’t have helped me look for Luffy or Marco.”
“I would have.”
The rug beneath your feet sparked alight in a sudden burst of orange. You crushed the flame beneath your boot before it could spread but the damage was already done. Heat rolled through the room in waves, turning the air thick enough to shimmer. Every breath tasted faintly of smoke. Sweat gathered against the back of your neck and your head swam as though the walls had begun to bend around the edges. You shook your head once to try and refocus on him.
“Did you kill somebody?” you asked.
“What?! No?”
The question at least seemed to startle him enough that the flames briefly calmed down, confusion creeping through his anxiety. You ran your nails gently over his shoulders, dodging around the bruises and marks you knew were there to tickle his skin.
“Alright. Did you betray someone?”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then I don’t see what could possibly be this bad.”
He didn’t lift his head, curling tighter around you as though he could disappear into you and stop having this conversation. “You’re not – I don’t – I can’t…”
“What did you do?”
A sharp arch of flame jumped from him and onto your arm, a brief burning sensation. “It’s not something I did,” he said.
That only confused you more. “Then what’s the problem?”
The fire around him crackled, loud and fierce before it suddenly withdrew. The room turned frigid all at once, Ace’s body far too cold against your own.
“Don’t hate me.”
He said it shakily, as though trying to plead and order it into being at the same time.
“I won’t.”
His fingers twisted in the fabric of your shirt once before he straightened, rubbing at his eyes roughly and still refusing to look at you. You ran your hands quickly over the smouldering spots on your clothes.
“You don’t know that,” he muttered.
“Then let me prove it to you.”
He looked at the smoke curling from your shirt for far too long. “I – Do you know Gol D. Roger?”
“The Pirate King?” you said, smothering the burn he’d been staring at. There was a hole in the shirt where heat had devoured the fabric. “What about him?”
Ace didn’t respond immediately. Then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, he said, “Well, he’s my father.”
You nodded, waiting for the rest of his sentence but it never came.
Silence dragged out, unbearably heavy between you before he gave you a desperate look. “Say something, please.”
“You can continue,” you said. “I’m listening.”
“What?”
He blinked blankly at you. And you stared back, equally as confused.
Then you sighed and stepped forward. “Ace, I promise whatever it is, it can’t be so bad that I won’t like you anymore.”
“I – what?”
“What?”
“I just told you,” he said, his voice pitched into what you could almost call a whine. “You heard me, right? Gol D. Roger is my father.”
You stared at him. “Yes, and?”
He looked at you as though you’d grown a second head. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
“I mean, I was isolated but not stupid,” you said. “I don’t think there’s anybody in the world who hasn’t heard about him. He’s pretty infamous.”
“Okay? So then you know!”
“That part, sure,” you said. “I mean, I didn’t know he had a kid but if it’s connected to this secret, then okay. Unless… are you implying that the thing that they want you dead for is connected to his treasure?”
He had, at least, stopped crying though you weren’t certain if his confounded expression was any better. You reached out to wipe away some of the residual tears from his face while you waited.
“No, I don’t know anything about that,” he said. “I’ve told you the thing. Who my father is, is the thing.”
But he sounded more confused than upset, as though he was questioning the words himself.
You frowned, your hand still outreached toward him. “I don’t understand.”
“The reason everybody wanted me dead,” he said. “My mother died trying to hide me because of who my father was. Everything that happened, everyone who died… it was all because of his blood.”
“You didn’t even do anything?” you asked. “You thought I was going to hate you and banish you because you happen to be related to somebody?”
And you clearly sounded quite offended because Ace deflated.
“Well, yes?”
You frowned at him and then flicked his shoulder. It couldn’t have possibly hurt but he jumped anyway, looking down at it. “What was that for?”
“Don’t scare me like that!” you said. “Seas, Ace. I thought you were going to say you murdered your brother or something! You set us both on fire and that’s it? You almost gave me a heart attack because I was so worried.”
“You don’t get it?”
“No, I don’t get it,” you countered. “Why would I hate you for that? That’s a really stupid reason to dislike somebody.”
“Other people don’t agree with you.”
“I don’t really care about if other people agree with me. I really hate you being this upset.”
“I’m sorry?” But he sounded more confused than anything.
“No, don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for,” you said. “Just like… I wasn’t expecting that. I really don’t care about who your father is.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
Ace opened his mouth and closed it again. You stared at him for a second before you stepped forward, throwing your arms around his waist. Of all the things you’d been imagining… it mattered to him but it wasn’t going to take him from you.
You only realised with your face pressed against his chest that that had been what terrified you about this secret.
He didn’t hug you back for a second, his arms stiffly at his sides. And then, slowly, he brought them up to wrap around you, his breath rough in his chest.
“You really don’t care?”
“No,” you said. “I don’t want to lose you and no offense, but your father really doesn’t change anything about me falling for you.”
“You’re so weird,” he muttered against your hair.
You shook your head. “Not about this. Anybody who dislikes somebody based purely on who they’re related to is pretty fucking weird in my opinion. And that’s coming from somebody who talks to the dead.”
Ace didn’t respond. His arms only tightened around you.
You waited for Sabo in your temporary room, sitting on the bed and paging through the worn chapters of your journal when Ace slumped against you. You startled at the sudden weight against your back, heat pressing heavily against you as he buried his face into your neck and snored once.
“Ace?” you asked, twisting to see the mop of black hair rested heavily on your shoulder.
He didn’t move and panic slipped through you for a second. You shrugged to try and adjust him and he grumbled before responding, his voice thick.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you okay?” you asked. “You just fell asleep.”
“I did?” he rubbed his eyes but didn’t move, his voice almost muffled against your shoulder. “It’s okay. I do that.”
“You do that?” you repeated.
“Sleep randomly. Marco called it, uh, something. I’m good though ‘cause it’s not serious or anything.”
Your heartrate calmed significantly and you shook your head at him. He’d just about given you heart failure with that. Sure, it wasn’t like he could be dying, but you didn’t know everything about the dead.
“That’s not detailed,” you teased. “But next time we’re on Sphinx Island, I’m asking him about it.”
Ace laughed softly. “It’s just sleeping. I can’t even remember the last time it happened. Must have been Alabasta maybe? It stops when I get worked up so ‘s been a while.”
You shook your head. “So, I should expect this more often?”
“Probably. It’s your fault, anyway.”
“Mine?”
“Mm. You’re too comfortable.”
Embarrassment curled in your stomach briefly but you replaced it with a soft laugh. Ace shifted further against you, his chin digging into your shoulder as he leaned heavier on your back. You almost toppled yourself, moving to the side so he wasn’t about to crush you.
“Well, you should try and wake up before we go,” you told him. “Unless you want to stay and sleep more?”
“It’s not like I have a choice, really.”
You huffed and ran your fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Yes, you do. Sabo will understand if I ask for a few more days before we go. I’m not critically low on supplies yet.”
Ace sighed dramatically but sat up, shook his head and seemingly bounced back to his normal tone without a problem. “It’s fine,” he said. “This stuff wears off quickly when I need it to. Why do I even need to sleep when I’m dead?”
“I have no idea.” You turned around to find him still slightly bleary-eyed but most certainly awake, the faintest of smiles on his face. “It’s a market so they’re going to have food. Got any requests for what I can get you?”
“You going to bring it back here?”
“Don’t be silly, we’ll find some time to send it across.”
The door opened before he could answer. Sabo’s broad grin was unmatched beneath his hat. “Ship’s here,” he told you cheerily. “And Koala says I probably managed to get everything done today so we’ll have no trouble.”
“Probably?” you asked.
He sighed and shook his head. “You should see the list of things I need to get done. I get eye strain just looking at it.”
“The pains of being so important,” you teased. “Everybody needs your signature.”
Ace snorted softly under his breath but when you glanced to him, he wasn’t even looking at you.
“Tell me about it,” Sabo continued as though he hadn’t seen you look away. “But I’ll meet you downstairs?”
“I won’t be a minute.”
His eyes flicked around the room for a second, searching, before he stepped out. You sighed, wondering if you should have let him know where Ace was. But you couldn’t keep doing that forever, especially because Ace himself didn’t seem to worry too much about it.
You got off the bed and grabbed his hand with your working one, tugging him to his feet. “Come on. I can’t swim there if we miss our trip.”
The moment you arrived, you realised a festival was going on. Food stalls crowded the already narrow streets, smoke curling thickly into the air from grills packed shoulder-to-shoulder. People spilled across the cobblestones in noisy waves, brushing against each other as music rattled from small wooden stages wedged between market stands. You couldn’t help a quiet breath of disbelief at how tightly packed the streets were.
“Sabo,” you asked. “Is there another path or are we just going to have to go straight through?”
You stood close to him, watching the way he surveyed the crowds before he grinned awkwardly. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “This isn’t normally my job so I don’t visit often.”
Ace pressed close against your back the second you stepped off the ship, close enough that heat bled through your clothes, but even that wasn’t enough to stop people from walking straight through him.
The air smelled heavily of salt, grilled meat, and far too many people pressed together in the afternoon heat. The decorations of the town might be beautiful when evening arrived but not with these crowds. Not when most of them couldn’t even see you.
“You take me to lovely places,” you informed Sabo.
“I know, it’s an excellent start to the sales pitch I was told to give you.”
At least the crowds parted for him with relative ease. A man shoved past without looking and his shoulder clipped your injured wrist hard enough to send pain sharply up your arm. Ace said something that was lost over the crowd and Sabo slipped an arm around your shoulders, moving you out of the way.
“Careful,” he warned.
The man offered you a quick apology and disappeared into the crowd again. You shook your head and kept closer to Sabo who was at least tall enough to demand some space.
“People don’t notice me properly,” you told him. “It’s a side effect of the fruit.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “Unless I make myself known, the living struggle to see me as well as the dead do.”
Sabo inclined his head as though impressed. “Sounds like a good side effect to deal with. Useful too, if you decide to work with us.”
“Still trying to get that sales pitch in, aren’t you?” you joked.
“I was told to do it naturally,” he said. “In my defence.”
The warmth on your shoulders was fading enough to notice and you twisted your head to look for Ace. He’d drifted back from you a little, his shoulders drawn tight and trying pointedly to just stare ahead as another person passed through him. You winced in sympathy but even reaching for him was going to be difficult.
You stopped for just a second to let him catch up and then laced your fingers with his.
“Stay close as you can,” you said.
He startled, hold on your hand tightening before his expression softened. “This sucks,” he muttered.
“You’re not a fan of crowds?”
“That’s not it,” he said. “I love these kinds of things. It would be fine if I was alive.”
You watched him for a second, saw which stalls his gaze lingered on and made a soft sound of realisation. “Well,” you said. “I can’t get people to stop walking through you but I think I have an idea. Sabo, mind if we grab some skewers?”
The blond blinked at you. “For Ace?”
“Who else?”
Sabo beamed. “I know the best ones.”
He didn’t lie to you; he made his way through the tight crowds and directly to a stall lined with skewers still crackling over the heat, glaze shining beneath the flames while the smell of charred meat and spice curled thickly through the air. And almost no customers gathered around it which was suspicious until you saw the pricing on them.
You were still blinking at the large number when Sabo ordered at least four of each and even more of the premium ones.
“I didn’t know revo – your work paid this well,” you commented.
“Work definitely doesn’t,” he told you. “But I’ve found that some people don’t always think about changing the permissions for beri withdrawals. Not even after what, twenty years?”
You had little idea who he was referencing but you certainly wouldn’t complain.
“Anyway, it’s for Ace so the price doesn’t matter.”
Ace grumbled something under his breath and you turned to him. “He doesn’t have to do that,” he repeated, loud enough for you to hear.
“I’m sure he knows,” you said.
Ace looked over your shoulder towards Sabo and he breathed out with a slight huff. “Could you tell him thank you?”
You smiled, pleased to be able to accurately translate something for once. “He’s saying thank you,” you told Sabo who immediately grinned so wide it had to have hurt.
The next challenge came in finding space big enough to draw a circle for the amount of food you now had but eventually you squeezed into a small, forgotten square adjacent to the market and managed to pile them onto a big sheet, handing several to Sabo before you sent them over. He found a seat against the wall and watched you curiously.
He even sat the same way as his brother, you noticed, one leg folded and the other propped up.
“So, once you’ve sent it to the dead realm or whatever, is it gone for good?”
“For you, yes,” you said. “Not so much for me because I can still interact with it but you could walk through here and you’d just pass through everything.”
“That’s pretty neat. I can see why you’re short on supplies though.”
“It does use them up pretty fast if I do it too often.”
Ace huffed and sat down next to the circle. “Then you should stop doing it multiple times a day.”
“Not a chance,” you told him. “It’s worth it.”
He stopped complaining once you passed him the first one and clearly it was good because you didn’t hear a word of upset from him afterwards. You happily took your spot next to him, only a short distance away, but Ace wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you closer until your body was flush against him.
“Here, try this.”
You reached for the skewer by yourself only for him to move it away from your hand. You sighed and rolled your eyes, taking a bite of the perfectly charred meat.
“It is very good,” you admitted.
“I know it must be something you hear often,” Sabo said. “But it’s quite entertaining to see you interact with something invisible.”
“Entertaining isn’t one I’ve heard before,” you answered. “Strange and disturbing are far more common. People really hate the idea that there might be something around that they don’t know about.”
Ace scoffed. “It’s not that weird. They’re just being stupid.”
“You two are always like this though?”
You frowned at Sabo. “Always like what?”
His expression betrayed no hint of malice or disappointment, only benign curiosity. “So close? It helps me see him but is that normal?”
“Yeah,” Ace said as though it was the simplest thing in the world.
You coughed slightly, rubbing your chest as you realised that Ace was very much pressed against your side still. “It’s not normal for other spirits I meet but I’ve made plenty of exceptions lately.”
Sabo leaned back against the wall behind him and nodded. “That’s good. I’m happy he has somebody to trust after everything.”
You smiled, trying to hide the melting feeling in your chest, and let your eyes drift over the crowded marketplace again while Ace demolished the food. Crowds spilled across every street; banners fluttered overhead and you saw at least two stalls with supplies you could use before something stood out.
A small symbol, sewn in the corner of a high-flying flag on a cart a little off the main street.
Your stomach dropped hard enough to hurt. You knew that symbol as an informant network you’d used before and you weren’t surprised it was here – they had people spread everywhere – but with it came a dangerous thought.
One that you shouldn’t have entertained for longer than a few seconds but Ace was close, you could feel him moving against your side, and the opportunity lingered in your head for far too long.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” you said, your attention turning to Sabo. “But I think I see my source of supplies. Can I have a moment alone?”
Concern crossed his expression instantly. “Sure. Do you want me to stay nearby?”
“Yes,” you said. “Just not too nearby. I need to talk about something with Ace too.”
Sabo inclined his head respectfully and stepped away. You looked around the alley rapidly, scanning every inch to be sure that nobody was listening in on what you had to say. Your heart should not have been beating this fast but it was loud in your chest.
“Are you alright?” Ace asked.
You steeled yourself. First, you needed details and he was the only one who could give them to you. To see if it was even possible before you paid for useless supplies.
“This is going to be sudden,” you warned. “But it’s important and I’m not going to be able to explain why I need to know. So… I’m going to need just a little bit of trust.”
Ace shrugged, clearly not at all bothered by the obvious panic in you. His grin was lopsided and his attention focused on the food. You prayed silently that what you were about to ask wasn’t going to ruin this moment.
“Kinda late to doubt you now.”
You hated the guilt that brought with but you forced the question out. “I need to know what killed you. Specifically.”
His smile disappeared in an instant, expression turning ashen in a way that you hated. You saw the way tension returned to him, his body wound tight.
“Not every detail,” you hurried to say, hoping to at least do some form of damage control. “Just who or what caused you that.”
You looked down at the injury despite yourself, something you usually avoided to the best of your ability. The warped flesh curled blackened around the open space through him, the very nature of it making your stomach churn.
Ace shifted slightly to cover it. “Why? Did you hear something?”
“No,” you said, refocusing on his eyes instead, pleading for him to know you didn’t mean to bring this up now. “No, I know nothing but that’s why I’m asking you.”
“Does it matter?”
“Right now, yes.”
He hesitated before he muttered under his breath. “Admiral Akainu,” he said.
There was a strange regret in his voice, not quite the anger you had expected. You shifted even closer, hoping the press of your shoulder could give him what little comfort you might offer. It was a person.
Somehow, despite that being the answer you wanted, it felt unsuccessful next to Ace’s expression.
“Thank you,” you said.
He shrugged loosely, picking up one of the skewers again. “I was stupid. It was my fault. We were out and everybody worked so hard for it too.” He laughed once, rough and thin. “I turned around.”
You reached for him and he folded into you instantly, the food dropping from his hand as he pressed his face hard against your shoulder. The grip on you turned tight enough to hurt. Heat flared unevenly around him, burning hot for a second before it dulled again.
A name was enough.
You could work with a name. You only wished it had been somebody a little easier to get close to but it was fine.
You stayed like that for a while, listening to the noise of the festival spill faintly down the alleyway. Music drifted somewhere nearby, muffled beneath conversation and laughter, painfully normal against the way Ace clung to you.
His breathing wasn’t real. You knew that. Ghosts did not need air in their lungs and yet you still felt every uneven exhale against your shoulder.
Your fingers curled tightly.
No. You could not accept this one quietly.
Ace let go of you after a few minutes and you gracefully ignored the red rimming his eyes. Each painful heartbeat that passed brought more certainty to your mind as you made your way to the merchant.
Ordering was easy.
You knew what you wanted and you chose your incense and scribbled a code onto a piece of paper, sliding it to the old woman behind the stall. She looked it over and pulled a face, tapping her nail thoughtfully against the table.
“A month. Maybe two.”
“Excuse me?” you repeated.
“One of a kind component,” she said as though that made it better. “Going to have to send somebody to get it. It’ll be expensive too.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. A month was already pushing it to keep a ghost stable. And Ace had already been with you for weeks now. It wouldn’t be easy but it would be fine, it would give you time to gather everything else. You repeated that in your head.
“Name the price.”
She said an eye-wateringly high number and Ace gawked at you. “What are you ordering? A hit?”
“That might have been cheaper,” you muttered. “But I must have it for the ritual. Give me the order form.”
It wasn’t like it was binding but you knew the man in charge of this network was very sticky with his nonsense. Dread swirled deep in your stomach as you took it from her, the pen hovering above the paper as you stared at it.
If you did this, you were locking yourself into a problem that would be far from easy. Ace leaned over you, curious about what you were signing and the warmth of his chest against your arm made signing far easier than it should have.
The pen scraped harshly across the paper and something deep in your stomach twisted with every letter.
“Same location for delivery?” she asked. “Or do you want it here?”
“I’ll pick it up from here,” you said. “One month.”
“Maybe two.”
“Try for one.”
You bought a small wooden token alongside the rest, handing it to Ace through the same circle you’d used earlier. Thankfully, it seemed nobody had disturbed it while you shopped and you sat down once more, your heart pounding in your chest.
Before Ace could comment on your obvious nerves, you offered him the token. He twirled it in his hands.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s a wish token,” you said. “It’s supposed to bring luck.”
And though you’d never felt like you needed one before, you were going to need as much as you could get in a month’s time.
“What did you wish for?”
“A cute ghost,” you teased. “But seeing as I already got mine, I thought maybe you could use it.”
He made a short, barking laugh, the edges of his ears twinged with red but he tucked the token away in his pocket regardless. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
At least the tension had broken. It felt slightly more normal now. You stared at the chalk circle smeared faintly beneath your boots, white dust dragged across the stone from where people had nearly stepped through it earlier, and imagined what it would look like to simply place something into Ace’s hands without rituals or circles between you. What had taken his life hadn’t been fair. Death never was but this… this was important.
By the time you looked back toward Ace, he had finished all the food and his head dipped slightly. You giggled behind your hand.
“Sleeping again?” you asked.
“What? Nah…”
“Sure.”
He looked deeply offended but you saw his head dip and you moved closer, waiting for it already.
“Don’t laugh,” he complained.
He slumped forward without warning, full weight dropping against you fast enough that you barely caught him before his cheek knocked awkwardly against your collarbone. You winced and adjusted him so he was sleeping easier against your chest; his back could not be comfortable with that angle but it was fine.
“Alright,” you said quietly. “You’re so lucky you’re not going to get stiff muscles like this.”
How long you sat there with Ace sleeping against your chest, you weren’t entirely sure but when you heard approaching boots, you smiled at Sabo.
“He fell asleep,” you said, nervous the words would wake Ace but they did very little. “Apparently this is a thing he does?”
Sabo chuckled and took a seat next to you, a considerable distance further than Ace sat. “The narcolepsy? Yeah, he’s done that since we were kids. Luffy imitated it for so many years because he wanted to fit in.”
You brushed a few strands of hair from Ace’s face, fingers gently brushing over the small bruise under his cheek.
It was an ugly, yellowing thing but you hesitated before stealing another injury. He would not be happy if you took anything off him but still, you were tempted. He should have only freckles on his face, not cuts.
“You’re not meant to get this attached to spirits, I’d assume?” Sabo asked. “If you’re meant to make them move on?”
You huffed. “No. I’m not. But your brother’s too charming for his own good.”
“Is he… was he happy? Before everything happened? I never found out much about what he was doing before.”
“I think so,” you admitted. “And I think he was but he’s not very interested in sharing anything about what happened. I don’t blame him. Death is very traumatic.”
Sabo nodded. “I still struggle to believe he’s gone. Ace wasn’t the one that died, you know? He’s far too strong for that.”
“Anybody can die,” you said. “But…”
You hesitated and looked toward the blond. You needed an ally. It would make things far easier if you did but you didn’t want to get any hopes up. Not when you were still figuring out the finer details.
“But?” he repeated.
“I need to complete a ritual,” you said. “Or I’m hoping to.”
He straightened immediately as though he could read your mind. You winced, trying your hardest not to be obvious even if part of you wanted to eagerly talk to somebody about this. To discuss the finer details.
“What would it do?”
“I… do you need to know that to help me fulfil it?”
There was a very loaded pause. Sabo’s gaze flicked to your hand, undoubtedly resting awkwardly above your chest from what he could see. You waited and then he smiled.
A far-too-knowing smile.
“If there’s even a chance, I want in. So what do you need?”
You smiled in return, uncertain but bordering on pleased. “It’s a close timeline,” you admitted. “But I need to get it done as soon as possible. I’ve ordered one thing, I need to find a way to get the other, and then… then I need to go to Marineford. I need to visit the spot he died.”
Sabo froze and you ran a hand gently over Ace’s hair, hoping desperately that sleep kept him from hearing you discuss it. He snored softly against your skin.
“What’s there?”
“If we travel there, it’s where he’ll be closest to life,” you said. “And if there’s any chance of this working, we need to be there.”
“Is there a chance?” he asked.
“A small one,” you admitted. “A very, very difficult one.”
He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, tapping against his boot before he nodded. “In our line of work, odds are always quite poor. A chance is still a chance. I can probably pull some strings. Have you told him?”
“Not yet.”
“Seems like something you should mention.”
“I don’t want to get his hopes up if it might fail,” you said.
Sabo gave you a look. “It doesn’t matter if it does. I know Ace. Trust me, he’d rather know you tried.”
“He doesn’t deserve more disappointment.”
“I don’t think he’ll see it that way.”
They were as stubborn as each other. And Sabo, unfortunately, was probably right.
You didn’t move away from Ace; hand still rested against his almost burning arm even as panic began to settle.
He’d frozen after you broke the kiss. His forehead still rested against yours, close enough that every slow breath brushed hot against your mouth. Dark strands of hair caught against your cheek as you stared at him, thoughts dragging several seconds behind reality. Your pulse still hadn’t stilled. Neither had the heat pressed against your skin.
“That’s against ghost rules, isn’t it?” he asked.
The way he said it made you laugh slightly and finally step back, almost stumbling over the chair behind you as you did so. His hands lingered, outstretched toward you for a second longer before they fell back to his sides.
“I… I don’t think there are ghost rules,” you said. “Luckily for you.”
“So, then it wasn’t like a bad thing, right?”
His tone dipped slightly at the end, bordering on an emotion you didn’t quite like. And one that made it even harder to give him a proper answer.
“It might be.”
“Because I’m dead?”
You gave him a deadpan look because that much was obvious.
Ace looked away from you, red tinging under his freckles and you tried to think of something useful to say in this situation. When nothing came to mind, you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. This wasn’t good at all. How were you meant to let him go when you…
You were starting to really not want him to leave. A thought you’d felt before but one that was getting unbearably loud now.
Silence settled between you thick and uncomfortable, broken only by the soft hiss of heat curling from Ace’s skin.
Ace shifted his weight and then again when you looked toward him with a quizzical gaze. “You’re making this kind of weird.”
“Me?” you asked in disbelief. “You kissed me.”
“Yeah, but like – I didn’t – what… why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged and gestured. “Like I did something wrong?”
Despite yourself, you laughed softly at his panic, and it soothed some of your own nerves. This was a problem you’d need to figure out but not an unfixable one. And definitely not one that you wanted Ace worrying too much about at the moment.
“Ace,” you said and he immediately looked at you. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… I’m just thinking about things.”
His eyes flicked over your face, measuring. “You didn’t hate it though, right?”
Your stomach betrayed you with an uncomfortable twist. “No,” you said honestly.
His shoulders loosened slightly at that. Small flames flickered around him, catching on strands of his hair as he breathed out. “Well. That’s good.”
“No, it’s not,” you said. “That’s the problem.”
“It’s a little good.”
“Ace.”
“What? I’m dead, you’ve got to let me have the little things.”
You groaned softly and wondered why that almost sounded like a valid reason before logic caught up. “You can’t use that as an excuse,” you muttered.
The room was beginning to feel far too warm and considering your company, you were doubting it was all in your head. He still looked nervous and you knew you should say something more comforting but you were still processing it yourself.
“If you hated it then just forget it happened or something,” he said and it sounded like a very nervous offer.
“No,” you said. “I don’t want that. Look, it’s just a bit of an awkward time to – ”
The heavy doors flew open with no sense of decorum and Ivankov beamed at you, his smile uncomfortably wide. “Come on, ghost girl,” he said. “It’s time for us to talk business.”
Ace adjusted himself awkwardly and you sighed. This could be postponed for a few short minutes while you remembered where you were. And who it was that you were meant to be talking to.
The meeting room where you were brought to smelled of sea salt; the scent annoying you more than it should have as you sat. You offered to mark a seat for Ace but he was hovering over your shoulder instead, tapping his foot while he leaned against the back of your chair. One half of your body felt considerably warmer than the other, almost uncomfortably so.
But while you waited, you heard a little more about Marineford and the battle that took place.
“It was an absolute mess,” Ivankov told you. “I have been trying my hardest to get everything back in order both at home and here but it’s not easy. The world is still shaking.”
A full war. A battle between superpowers and something made Ace’s flames occasionally flicker ominously in your peripherals.
“I’ve been avoiding the details,” you said before he could mention more. “And I’d much prefer to keep it that way?”
Ivankov gave you a look that was a little too knowing. “For you or for your ghost?”
“How about for both?”
You crossed one leg over the other and tried to ignore the spark of flame that moved past your face. Sabo being in the room had only made it far worse but at least he was pretending not to listen, picking at something invisible on the table.
“Well, you don’t need all the messy details,” Ivankov said with the wave of a hand. “They flew all of those out within hours of it happening but it’s an event for the history books to put it lightly.”
“I understand that,” you said. “I also know that’s one of the reasons that I should keep which spirit I’m currently seeing quiet.”
“It won’t take them long to find out though,” Sabo said, seemingly willing to speak now with a hint of concern bleeding into his voice. “You shouldn’t underestimate how focused they can be about this type of thing. They consider what happened a partial loss already.”
“And even more so if they find out there’s a way for their success to be undone,” Ivankov said, a glint in his eyes.
Ace scoffed behind you. “Doesn’t matter if I stick around or not. I still died. Pops is still gone. They got what they wanted.”
You didn’t answer him or Ivankov, just pressed your fingers together.
“All information about my devil fruit has been very well kept,” you said.
“And yet I know about it… Tell me, does he want to?”
You stilled, blood turning cold. Ace shifted next to you.
“Do I want to what?”
Thankfully you were saved from having to have that conversation when the door at the far end of the room opened. You turned your head, steeling yourself in case the leader of the revolution was anything like what you’d feared.
Dragon entered without ceremony, heavy boots dull against the floor. He crossed the room and stopped across the table from you. He didn’t sit.
“You’re the medium?”
You hated that title but you nodded. “I prefer my actual name.”
Dragon didn’t bother to tell you if he even knew it. “The Ōdan Ōdan no Mi was a very secretive fruit for a long time,” he said. “Understandably. It draws attention to its user.”
“Normally only from the dead.”
“Unfortunately, not always. And not in these circumstances.”
You resisted the urge to look back at Ace again. The room already felt tense enough without you making it obvious where he was lingering. But you could feel his warmth moving closer to the table slowly.
“It’s not a dangerous fruit,” you said. “Nor one of particular use. The spirits that are bound to me are random and so it would be a gamble to attempt to glean useful information from them.”
“Any information is dangerous.”
You inclined your head. “It can be.”
“You can speak to the dead, bound to you or not. That makes you useful for recovering lost intelligence, verifying events, and extracting knowledge limited to you alone. And that is without looking at its awakened form.”
The colder he made it sound, the more on edge you were becoming. “You know an awful lot about it,” you said.
“Do you not?”
You thought of the journal tucked into your bag, passed down from wielder to wielder through the ages. You didn’t answer him but he didn’t waste time speaking to the point.
“We are not the only ones who understand that power. If the government learns you’re bound to Portgas D. Ace, they will pursue you. Do you understand that?”
“Of course.”
Ace barked out a small, unimpressed laugh. “Why wouldn’t they? Can’t even leave me alone when I’m dead.”
You turned toward him briefly but he was staring at nothing.
“The safest option and potentially the most useful would be to sever the attachment quickly,” Dragon said, speaking cleanly. “It would remove the interest in you and provide a chance for a more useful spirit to appear. There’s little knowledge that he could provide to anyone. He’s a risk more than a boon.”
Agitation rolled through you and you crossed your arms. “I do not bind spirits for what use they are. They are people, not transactional.”
“I can move on,” Ace said suddenly. He wasn’t quite looking at you, seemingly fixating on the spot on your shoulder. “Or you can force me to. I guess. I don’t know how to do it myself. Just explain and – ”
“No,” you said firmly and he froze, seemingly unused to being the one interrupted.
The rest of the room had turned cool too and you realised it must have seemed as though you were responding to Dragon. You gave him a nod.
“One second, please,” you said to the other three before you continued speaking to Ace. “Convenience is not a reason to move on. It’s a natural thing, not something I will force.”
“I don’t want to get you involved in this too! I’ve already gotten enough people killed or hurt for me.”
“I will be fine.”
He stepped closer to you. “No. I don’t believe you. You’re already hurt and you haven’t even bothered to tell anybody about that! What if they decide to kill you just because you happen to know me?”
“Don’t…” you trailed off and then sighed. “You don’t need to move on just because something might happen. You can move on when you’ve found closure.”
“I don’t know how to!”
Dragon spoke again, his voice like a knife through the conversation. “Your abilities allow you to bind one spirit but you can talk to others. What are the conditions for it?”
You struggled to force yourself back into the other conversation. It was exhausting holding two at once sometimes.
“It depends on the spirit,” you said. “If they’ve accepted their deaths and moved on, then no matter what I do, I can’t speak to them. And if they’re not bound to me, it’s their choice on if they want to talk to me or not in the first place.”
“That is the useful part of your ability. The binding is secondary.”
“Some spirits don’t even remember their knowledge,” you said.
“Regardless. You would benefit from developing your abilities further. Lest they stagnate or dissipate wholly.”
You felt the offense returning but you kept it as tempered as you could, forcing it down before it bubbled over. “I’ll consider your advice.”
His expression remained unchanged. “Further than that, we cannot ensure any safety. At best, we have sources who will be able to tell us whether you’re known.”
You weren’t fool enough to think the offer came freely. “And in exchange?”
“If we require a spirit, we seek you out to attempt the connection.”
Being indebted to the Revolutionary Army was far from the worst situation you could be in. What he offered was valuable enough to someone who spent half your life avoiding being known. You couldn’t help but feel the prickle of discomfort at spirits being transactional.
But that reassurance… to know something wasn’t lurking in the shadows and watching…
“And if you ask for one who has already moved on? Or even a spirit who doesn’t wish to share what they know?”
“I’m certain you can figure out how to convince them. Think on it. You do not need to contribute to our cause directly but your assistance could prove beneficial.”
Dragon turned and left the room. You stared at the space where he’d been standing, not certain how you would even fulfil such a request. To sell your powers…
He hadn’t even asked about Ace, you realised as you looked over your shoulder. Barely one word about him to acknowledge his existence. But perhaps it made sense. Ace couldn’t give them anything they didn’t already know.
“Well,” Ivankov said, pressing his hands together. “That was horrifically awkward as expected but he sees potential in your abilities!”
“Joyful,” you muttered.
He stretched with an exaggerated groan. “I’ll leave you youngsters to brood in peace then. Revolutionary work never ends and I’m the next ship back home tomorrow. Suppose sleep won’t be joining me tonight.” He barked a laugh loud enough to make you startle.
You watched him go before you sighed, looking up toward Ace. “Should I start offering ghost consulting services?” you asked, half-resigned and half genuinely interested in his opinion.
“You’d hate that,” he said immediately.
“Deeply.”
Sabo smiled faintly at you when you caught his eye and you nodded in return. You looked toward Ace who was pointedly not staring at his brother. Alright, that problem still hadn’t magically solved itself.
You had to hope that somehow you’d find something to say.
“Does he eat?” Sabo asked.
You shook your head. “To say the least. I think he’s the hungriest ghost I’ve ever seen.”
“Hey!” Ace protested.
“But it’s not easy to get food to him,” you continued. “There’s a small ritual involved and I’ll soon be out of supplies.”
“I can help,” Sabo offered. “It’s not usually my area but you know, it’s a special case.”
He looked over your shoulders, very unsubtly, trying to track the source of the occasional flames. Sympathy panged in your heart so you reached out and caught Ace’s hand with your own. He startled and then tightened his grip double, fingers squeezing tightly against yours. Thankfully you’d kept your injured hand away.
“Now you can assume where he is,” you said to Sabo. “Makes it easier.”
Sabo gave you a small, awkward laugh. “Ah, thanks. Sorry I… this whole situation is really weird. I don’t actually even know how tall he is so it almost doesn’t help. Or was? Should I use past tense?”
“Present works fine,” you reassured, glancing toward Ace for confirmation and finding him not looking at you and faintly red. “But don’t worry. Spirits can definitely make things difficult.”
Ace’s grip loosened and you tightened yours in response. “Not like that,” you said.
He seemed a little startled by the correction. “That’s not what I was thinking,” he huffed.
You turned back to Sabo. “I would appreciate the offer. Even if I left tomorrow, I may not have enough for the trip back and I’d rather Ace be able to pass out in a bed.”
He chuckled. “He’s still doing that?”
“Sleeping?”
Sabo smiled warmly. “Yeah. When we were kids, it was so often he’d be doing something and just fall asleep. But no worries, I’ll escort you to a nearby island and we can get what you need. It’ll take our people a few days to see if you’re in government records anyway.”
You nodded. He reminded you of Ace in a surprising number of ways from the tilt of his head to the soft laughs he gave. It certainly didn’t surprise you to find out they were brothers.
“If they do, it shouldn’t be too bad,” you said. “I have a few safe houses around the world.”
“Why do you need safe houses?” Ace asked.
You turned your head up to him, playfully tugging on his hand. “You haven’t had enough of my secrets revealed in one day?”
“Not really.”
Sabo chuckled. “Sorry if we caused any of those.”
You shook your head. “No worries. If you need me to translate things that are being said, let me know. I sometimes forget that you can’t hear him.”
“It’s okay but if I could ask about a potential secret?”
“Sure.”
“I meant to ask earlier. Is your hand alright?”
You looked down at the bandage that was already coming loose. “Oh um… actually, it’s broken. I don’t suppose you have a doctor on staff?”
He blinked. “It’s what?”
After a mild panic from Sabo, you came to find out that the Revolutionary Army had a fairly decent and clean infirmary with bright white walls and the smell of perfume lingering in the corners. You also learned the very fun fact that the injury had partially healed.
Which meant it had to be rebroken.
You gave Ace a small look that you hoped was reassuring (it definitely wasn’t) but you managed to maintain most of your dignity. Mainly because the terrifying doctor with a cigarette told you that she could always leave it to heal crooked and you’d rather not deal with that.
By the time the splint was secured properly and fresh bandages wrapped around your wrist, your eyes were burning suspiciously hard and your jaw was sore.
She stuck a plaster on where your nails had dug into your leg with a tap.
“Don’t use it,” she ordered flatly. “It was stupid to let it heal that way to begin with.”
You almost defended yourself before you realised saying that you hadn’t been the one who left it for so long would be stupid. She stared right through Ace and pointed toward the door. “Out.”
You blinked before you remembered you were the only one visible and escaped as quickly as you could.
Sabo hadn’t hung around so you strolled through the quiet hallway, exhaling slightly.
Now, where had you come from?
Your wrist throbbed in time with your heartbeat. It felt unbearably loud without Ace talking and you glanced toward him as you walked. He was several steps behind you, far enough that you’d almost have to raise your voice to speak to him.
“You alright?”
“No.”
He was walking without any trace of his usual restless movement, his shoulders tight and his hands shoved into his pockets. You sighed and slowed down until he almost walked straight into you, his shoulder brushing you as he startled to a stop. Heat rolled off him in uneven ways.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It was,” he said, making a rough sound in the back of his throat. “I threw the punch that broke it.”
You sighed. “That’s fine though I do wish you’d gotten it checked out before it set but...”
“Didn’t have a choice,” he muttered. “I think it only started healing after those cuffs came off but I didn’t have enough energy for it.”
Sadness and anger twisted together painfully beneath your ribs as the reality of it settled over you. Right, he was made of fire. Without sea stone, he should have healed from a broken bone nearly instantly.
He ran a hand down his face harshly. “You shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Ace…”
“No, seriously,” he said. “You’re travelling around the world, putting up with all sorts of things, wasting all your money, and for what? You can’t take my injuries on top of that! It’s like getting a stray cat that won’t go away.”
Despite yourself, you laughed at that.
“I’m being serious.”
“You’re also comparing yourself to a cat,” you reminded him gently. “Which simply isn’t fair. You’re far better company in many ways.”
He stared down at you and you smiled, adjusting the bandages where they were itching without thinking about it. Your wrist protested immediately and Ace reached out, gently moving your hand away from it.
“Don’t mess with it.”
You chuckled. “Now who’s fussing over injuries?”
He huffed slightly but he didn’t let go. He just shook his head and stepped in closer, almost nervous for a second before his arms threaded around you, tighter and warmer than he’d ever been before. He lowered his head to your shoulder and pressed his face into the crook of your neck in a way that felt far more intimate than any hug had been before.
“You’re right,” he muttered. “I don’t even know how this stuff works so just tell me straight.”
“What is it?” you asked.
“Is it bad that… is it bad that I don’t want to move on? Because it’s not fair that we only got to meet after I died?”
You hesitated before you answered, already knowing the truth and yet ignoring it fully. You couldn’t hold onto him forever. That would never work.
“It is bad,” you said. “As bad as the fact that I don’t want you to move on yet either.” He had to eventually. Yet you tightened your arms around him as though that alone would ground him to you.
I saw this trend on TT where people are turning themselves into fake game screens.
And I recalled that I made this double animation a few years ago and turned it into a non-existing game screen 🫡
i know ace is hot and all but some of y'all's fantasies are too generous that mf is gonna fall asleep mid fuck and then wake up with his dick still in you and ask if you got any snacks and before you answer he's in your kitchen butt ass naked (with the hat probably) eating the entire package of deli ham slices in your fridge and you're too scared to ask if he forgot what y'all were doing 5 minutes ago or just doesn't give a fuck
Flames burst behind you with a sharp crack and heat rolled violently across your back. You turned on your heel, confusion catching in your chest at the sight of fire spilling over Ace’s body in uneven waves. The air around him warped hard enough to distort the walls behind him.
Sabo took a step toward the door, reaching for something you couldn’t quite make out. “What’s going on?”
“I can see spirits!” you hurried your explanation as rapidly as you could, words stumbling together somewhat. “They’re bound to me because of my devil fruit and the one I have currently…”
Ace didn’t even look at you. He was staring desperately at Sabo, tears brimming in a gaze that was equal parts distressed and furious. You looked between the two to try and figure it out but neither provided any kind of clue.
“Like, you can see the dead?” Sabo repeated.
“Yes.”
Ace spun to you, panic flickering through his gaze. The heat rolling off him was intensely visible; the air around his form shimmering. “I thought you said you couldn’t bind multiple spirits to you at one time,” he said. “Why did you bring him here? Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I didn’t do anything,” you defended yourself, holding your hands up. “My fruit is useless against the living.”
“But he’s not alive! He’s dead! I know he’s dead! I saw him die!”
You looked toward Sabo who was very decidedly alive. He wasn’t watching you though, his attention locked entirely on the heat and the outline of a person he could see within it.
“Is it him?”
At Sabo’s question, Ace turned back. He approached the blond slowly, flames flickering away until he was almost blocking your view of the other. He grabbed for Sabo’s arm and his hand passed through him cleanly; fire scattering apart around his wrist as though the contact had torn straight through him instead.
For a second, you watched him as he looked down at his hand in shock. You realised Sabo had asked a question only you could answer and forced yourself to swallow thickly.
“Yes,” you answered. “Ace is currently bound to me. He um…”
You didn’t know how to explain what had happened because you had no idea who Sabo even was to Ace. Or why this was such an enormous shock. And Ace certainly wasn’t giving you any further information no matter how desperately you looked at him for assistance.
Ace’s hand closed uselessly around empty air before dropping again. “No,” he said. “No, you’re not alive. You can’t – why can’t I touch you?! I know you’re dead! We – Luffy cried for days! How are you…?”
Sabo continued to watch the space in front of him, head tilted toward Ace’s so accurately that you almost wondered if he could see him. His expression was carefully neutral but the grief in the room was becoming so thick that you felt as though you were intruding on something deeply personal. Something you should leave for.
If only you could without removing Ace’s ability to converse at all.
“Ghosts can see and hear the world around them but not interact with it,” you said. You had a script for briefing people but it somehow escaped your mind. “I help them to move on and Ace asked to speak to his brother. But the name he said was…”
“Luffy,” Sabo filled in without a hint of offence. “Because he didn’t know I was alive. And I didn’t know him either.”
“What the hell do you mean you didn’t know?!” Ace barked. “This whole time?! You’ve been alive and just messing around with some stupid revolution and didn’t tell us?!”
You stepped to the side so you could see around him a little better. It was difficult to maintain eye contact through a very annoyed and gesturing spirit.
“He’s um… confused.”
It was a severe understatement but you had little idea how to say it.
Sabo lowered his head and the movement caused his hat to pass through Ace’s arm. He jumped away as though the touch had injured him, raising his hand to the spot. You winced in sympathy. He was far too good at tugging at your heart.
“I should have been dead,” Sabo admitted, a little softly. “There was an incident when we were still growing up and as a result, I’ve had long-term amnesia surrounding much of my life.”
“Oh.” You had little else to say. This wasn’t a situation you’d prepared for.
He sighed, his shoulders growing heavy. “I got my memories back after I found out about what happened but by that point… But I saw him. He was here, right? For just a second, I swear I saw him.”
“You did,” you said. “He still has part of his devil fruit so you’re seeing the heat moving off him.”
“And he can hear us?”
You looked toward Ace, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Yes. Though only I can hear him.”
Flames flickered over Ace’s shoulders for a second before they slowly petered out. He was glaring a hole into the ground by your feet, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter. If you’d expected an answer out of him, you were going to be disappointed.
Sabo’s eyes lingered on where those small flames had been. “He’s really right here?”
“Yes. Though I think he’s in a bit of shock right now.”
Sabo nodded firmly. “Then I can at least apologise properly. If I’d remembered sooner, I would’ve come back. Everything was awful and… and I’m sorry.”
Ace didn’t even move.
You stared at him, the seconds dragging past into awkwardness as you waited for him to even acknowledge that he was being spoken to.
“Ace?” you asked softly.
He looked at you, his eyes glossy. Then he shook his head sharply. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “We came to speak to Luffy, not… Did the guy who helped us here actually know him or was it all a lie?”
You glanced toward Sabo. “We can ask but don’t you want to – ”
“No.”
You winced and turned to Sabo without a clue how you could handle this. If Ace didn’t want to talk… there was nothing you could say that would make this type of conversation easier. There was heartbreak enough on both of their sides.
“Could we talk again later?” you asked Sabo. “I’m not sure how busy you are but I think it’ll be easier to discuss things when they’ve settled.”
He breathed out, almost as though disappointed but nodded. “Sure. I’ll make sure we get some time to talk later. I think there’s… there’s a lot to deal with.”
“Absolutely.”
Sabo looked around the room once more, as though Ace would manifest before him. When it didn’t happen, he nodded to you softly and stepped out. The door swung shut so loudly that you winced; an ugly, cloying silence following it not long after.
Ace’s jaw was trembling. He brought a hand up over his mouth for a second before he screwed his eyes shut. “This was a bad call. Should have given the letter to Marco.”
You didn’t know if it was better or worse that he met his brother here. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“What happened?”
“That’s nothing.”
“Ace.”
He shook his head. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Saying my name like that. I don’t need you to be all ‘Ace’ at me every time something happens. I’m not fragile or hurt or anything. So just… stop it.”
“Fragile, never,” you agreed. “But hurt is debatable. This is probably not what you expected to learn about.”
“Yeah, it’s not. I didn’t walk in here thinking, oh, I guess I can see my brother who’s meant to have been dead for fifteen years. I think that would be great fun to know now that I’m the one that’s dead and I can’t even hug him or hit him.”
You flinched. “I understand.”
“Do you? Have you also found out that your brother who you buried is actually perfectly fine?! After you’ve already died!! If we knew, Luffy and I would have found him! We could have all been together!”
You automatically opened your mouth to say his name again but, remembering his earlier protest, just stayed quiet for a second.
“Let me get a chair marked up so you can sit down,” you offered instead. That was something easy that you knew you could handle.
“I don’t need to sit down. Amnesia,” Ace scoffed. “How do you just forget your family?”
You pulled a piece of chalk from your bag and tried your hardest not to allow the empathy to become visible. The last thing you needed was to tear up because he was. “We can talk to him later if you want to.”
“Why should I?! I’m dead, he’s supposed to be dead, and it would have been fine because Luffy… he can handle this…”
He trailed off and you glanced in time to see him rubbing at his eyes. When he used the wrong hand, he winced and dropped it again.
“There are some small positives,” you offered. “Maybe they’ll find each other again and reunite properly. Then they’ll never have to be alone again.”
“Yeah but why do I have to be?”
You didn’t have an answer for it.
You finished drawing the symbol and just stared at it where it was etched onto the chair. No words of reassurance would fix this. The thick and uncomfortable grief was pressing tightly against your skin.
Ace made a soft sound that could have been a hiccup but you didn’t look up.
There was a reason you shouldn’t get involved with spirits. Every single one of them had unfinished business and you didn’t have the ability to care for each of them. And yet somehow, Ace had managed to have you considering every possible aspect of your devil fruit you knew – if it would only make him more comfortable.
“Could you draw that on a person?” he asked.
You shook the thoughts away. “Not these ones. There are some moments when I could make it so you could touch him but it’s… I’d need him to be near death too and that’s not safe for anybody.”
“Yeah.”
Ace sighed and waved his hand dismissively, immediately bumping the injured knuckle directly into the chair you’d just marked. He hissed in pain and you snapped a hand out, snagging his wrist before he dragged it into his chest. His skin was burning hotter than ever beneath your palm.
“Why can you never be careful when you have this thing?” you asked. “You bump it into me. Into objects. Everything.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “It might stay there after I move on so I may as well get used to it.”
You met his eyes with a challenge that rapidly faded away. His eyes were red, brimmed with unshed tears that had been shaken away. His freckles glistened slightly and you just couldn’t find it in your heart to do anything else.
“Alright then,” you said and you brought your hand to his, gently folding your fingers over the knuckle. He winced at the contact but didn’t move away, staring confused.
You had admittedly used a decent amount of your stamina for the day (more than you had in years when it came to pulling on your devil fruit) but you reached for the boundary between life and death regardless. You found it thin and for a second, it trembled.
Then pain split across your knuckle so suddenly your vision flashed white for a second. It felt hot, deep and wrong; like the bone had cracked all over again beneath your skin.
You dropped Ace’s hold immediately, pulling your hand into your chest as deep throbs exploded over your arm. Bruising bloomed deep around your finger and you bit out a curse as you grabbed for your bag.
“What did you do?”
There was a balm for pain. It was old and you hadn’t used it in a very long time but you slathered it onto some rough bandage and used your teeth to tightly bind the break. The pain ebbed only slightly.
At least it wasn’t on your dominant hand but you hadn’t fully realised just how much a broken knuckle would hurt. And that was without smacking it into everything.
Ace held up his arm. He flexed his fingers one at a time, rotating it slowly.
“This is when I’m jealous of your logia,” you mentioned. “I think that would make injury healing far easier.”
“How did you do that?”
You forced a tight-lipped grimace. “That’s part of what my fruit does. I can move afflictions between the dead and the living if I push hard enough. Now you can knock your hand into as many things as you want.”
Ace stared at your bandaged hand. “What? You didn’t have to – I was fine!”
“You were getting hurt every time you made a fist,” you said. “Or gestured. Don’t worry. The dead can’t heal their injuries but I can.”
“I wasn’t – have you been able to do this the whole time?! Why didn’t you say something?!”
You shrugged, fighting the urge to look away from him. “I didn’t give you a full lecture of my devil fruit’s abilities because it didn’t really matter. There’s far more to it than me just seeing you, you know?”
“First the moving on thing and now this…” he muttered.
He reached for your hand and you let him, let him draw you closer to look at your quite poor bandaging job. He flipped your hand back and front so many times that you were starting to get quite confused about what he was looking for. If anything at all.
Then he looked toward your torso and brought his hand to where the injury had been the day before, brushing over the skin there.
“You took it.”
“I didn’t want you to pick at it anymore. It was bleeding.”
“You can’t just do that!”
You waved your free hand. “I absolutely can. Small injuries are nothing but obviously I can’t touch the parts that would be fatal to me. May as well just switch places fully if I want to do something like that.”
Your eyes dropped to the hole in his chest. If you took on that, you’d be gone before you hit the floor. The whole situation had made you surprisingly loose tongued but it was somewhat working.
Ace seemed less focused on what had happened earlier.
“Why would you take injuries from me to begin with?!”
“Because you kept making them worse and I can heal.”
“So?!”
You blinked at the volume of his voice. He shoved a hand through his hair roughly, flames crackling around his shoulders.
“You can’t just get hurt for me! That’s so stupid!”
“You were the one who kept bumping into things with a broken hand.”
He gestured at nothing. “That’s my problem!”
“And now it’s mine.”
Ace looked genuinely offended. You could almost think you’d taken something he genuinely had wanted to keep.
“This isn’t funny,” he huffed.
“I never said it was.”
His eyes kept dragging back to the bandage no matter how hard he tried to look elsewhere. Every glance made something tighten in his expression further. The few spirits who learned of this in the past were often unbothered. Why would they care about transferring injuries they couldn’t feel.
“Why didn’t you just leave it?” he asked.
“And let you keep hurting yourself when you’re not paying attention?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Ace made a frustrated sound under his breath and let go of your hand. “No, what’s ridiculous is you’re acting like breaking your hand for me is normal. That thing hurt awfully! I know how bad it was.”
You took your hand back gently, a little grumpy at how he’d jostled it. You should speak to somebody about a doctor before it started to set strangely. How long had Ace had it before he died to begin with?
“Ace,” you soothed.
“No!” he snapped. “No, you’re not going to take injuries from me, okay? That’s not worth it! I’m the one who’s dead. They don’t bother me!”
“You told me they hurt you all the time.”
“That doesn’t mean – I just – you can’t!”
You reached for him and he immediately stepped away as though you’d absorb all his wounds through a simple touch. You sighed, your hand lingering outstretched in the empty space now.
“Don’t worry,” you said. “It’s limited and I don’t have the energy to take anything else for a while. Especially because I still have to push through the boundary a bit to send you dinner later on.”
Ace stared at your hand before he slowly took it. But he didn’t stop there, trailing his fingers further along your forearm, into the crease of your elbow and then up to your shoulder where he lingered before letting go.
“You don’t need to do all of this.”
“I know,” you said.
He drooped his head slightly and sighed. “I couldn’t even touch him.”
You glanced toward the wooden door; Sabo’s absence felt heavy in the room. “I’m sorry.”
“And now I can’t touch you either without you getting hurt.”
You huffed in annoyance and shook your head. You stepped into his space before he moved away and grabbed his hand, lifting it sharply to press against your cheek. “That’s not how this works. I have to use my devil fruit to take things.” You reached for him then, resting your palm against his jaw, thumb touching the edge of the split in his lip. “Is this moving?”
Ace’s gaze flicked to your lips and he watched carefully before shaking his head. “No.”
“Then you can still touch me, right?”
“Yes.”
You lowered your hand but his stayed where it was, warm against your cheek. His thumb dragged beneath your eye slowly, careful enough that your chest tightened a little. You saw the moment he got the idea. Saw the intention flash across his expression.
Your heart stuttered. You could have stopped it. Should have stopped it.
But you didn’t.
“Ace…”
His eyes snapped to your mouth at the sound of his name and that was your only warning.
He kissed you like he was starving. There was nothing careful about it. One second he was holding your face and the next he was crowding into your space so quickly your calves knocked against the edge of the chair behind you. You stumbled half a step and he followed immediately, lips hot against yours before you could properly breathe again.
His kiss was rough and desperate and just a little messy like he hadn’t fully meant to do this until it was already happening.
You kissed him back harder without meaning to. A quiet sound caught in his throat when you returned it.
The tension wound through him eased all at once beneath your hands but only for a moment before it surged back stronger. His fingers tightened against your jaw almost unconsciously, holding you there like he was afraid you might disappear too.
annaxmalina
titsay
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
romaincrisis
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