Chapter Text
Keeping track of the time that passed became too discouraging. Instead, Marco decided to be on the lookout on the census and became a non-executive officer of the World Census—in fact, Marco might or might not have influenced the conception of that organization, hoping he could find Ace easier this way.
When Marco wasn't busy with the census, he fed his curiosity with humans by studying them in the most informal ways, something he had refused to do before meeting Ace. He had helped build empires in Rome and and dynasties in China. It was all extremely interesting that his dislike for humans grew less as the years went by.
Not that it required any change from the norm, though, as Marco merely observed and copied what people did. He didn't need to study in academies or schools; his vast experience and time with them enabled him knowledge greater than maybe that famed scientist Einstein himself.
He didn't know why but for the year two thousand and seventeen, Marco decided to stay in Brazil. He'd always admired the scenery and culture of Brazil and thought he'd spend the year teaching history. It was his sixteenth time living in the country so procuring a house and basic necessities were easy for him.
Today was a sunny Saturday afternoon. Marco stepped out of his front door and breathed in deeply. Another day he'd have to spend thinking of ways on how to spend it. Oh, but not today, he corrected himself. He had a mission ready and it was getting groceries.
Marco literally lived for the mundane things like groceries now.
Shaking his head, he slowly walked to his car when the sound of an engine made him pause and look up.
Oh. There he is.
It took him a second to realize his mistake.
His head whipped back to the zooming car so fast he feared he'd broken his neck. The car Ace was in was exiting the street and, without thinking, Marco ran after it. Air whooshed into his face and his lungs and heart struggled to keep working properly as his body and mind worked overtime.
That was Ace, he was sure of it! How could he be so stupid?
He pushed his legs to go faster and wished he could turn back into a phoenix so he could fly and easily catch up. He would not do that unless he wanted to explain the supernatural to the police and his neighbors. Not something he wanted to do right now.
A few minutes later, the car slowed down and parked in front of a two-story house. Marco slowed into a walk, his lungs bursting as he gasped loudly, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. When the door of the car opened, Marco's heartbeat doubled, and he felt lightheaded. Ace stepped out and Marco forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to walk, how to talk. His shaky legs gave out and he landed on the cement, butt first. He merely stared as Ace walked into the front door of what seemed to be his home and disappeared behind it.
Ace is here. I found him.
His heart was rampaging in his ribcage, mostly due to the running he had done. He couldn't keep the smile off his face and soon felt moist gather in his eyes. He fought them back, though. No, I'm not losing control here.
He found Ace—what now? Should he just knock on his front door and kiss the living daylights out of him? Marco's instincts were screaming to do just that, but his rational side disagreed. That would scare Ace and, worse, create a misunderstanding and send him farther away from Marco.
So what should he do?
Marco groaned out loud. "Shit, shit, shit," he chanted, as if the answer was somehow hidden behind the expletive.
Why was he only thinking of this now? He'd spend years waiting so why didn't he used that time to think of what to do when he'd finally seen Ace?
Marco knew why—because he couldn't. Thinking of Ace in any way before brought sharp prickling sensations in his chest. He'd be reminded of the deep, musical tenor that had said his name like a caress, the freckles that danced in the light of fire each time he smiled, the bottomless, brown eyes that bared Ace's soul to anyone who looked into them.
He just couldn't.
The door rattled open and Marco jumped a little, slowly standing up and breaking into a walk, hoping he'd look like a passerby. A man with blond hair went out of Ace's house, making Marco pull his brows together. The blond headed to the other car in the driveway, something Marco failed to notice. Not a minute later, an energetic kid followed. They were both dressed semi-formally.
Marco stopped and pulled out his phone, hoping his disguise to eavesdrop was enough. He stared blankly at his phone's screen while his ears strained to listen.
"Hey, Lu, are you seriously wearing slippers on a date?" the blond man asked.
The kid, Lu, made a noise of ascent. "Hancock says I can wear whatever I want."
Marco's heart broke into a sprint when he heard Ace's voice next. He tried his best not to look up. "But still, you can't wear slippers to a restaurant, Luffy! Here."
"No! Who cares if I wear them to a restaurant? We're in a free country, aren't we?" Luffy answered bitingly.
Ace made a frustrated noise. "Sabo, take his shoes and talk him into wearing them."
The blond, Sabo, sighed. "Luffy, we'll make you cancel if you don't listen. It doesn't matter if it's allowed or not, you have to at least look good for your date. I mean, she's the one treating you out, and you just can't look like that."
Luffy huffed. "You're meanies."
"Hey, you can't call your brothers meanies." Ace laughed, prompting Marco to close his eyes tightly, the sound burning into memory, echoing the same laugh from a long, long time ago.
It had been a long time indeed.
"Anyway, aren't you supposed to be going, too?" Sabo asked. "I thought you have plans?"
At that, Marco was pulled out of his trance. Ace had a date? Was this for real? His grip on his phone unconsciously tightened, and an unpleasant feeling settled in his stomach.
"It's still early. I won't leave before five," Ace said.
Five? Why did Ace have to go at such a late hour? A cold slither of worry shot down his spine at the thought of Ace still out and about at night in the very dangerous streets. A lot of things could happen to him, and with his luck, who knows? Marco grimly knew for a fact his Ace's fate and never wanted it to happen to this Ace.
And so he did the only thing he could at the moment.
For someone who'd lived for a million years, Marco could say he'd experienced a lot of ups and downs. But he could say with confidence that this, whatever this was happening inside this lovers-filled restaurant, had to be first thing on his deeper-than-hell downs' list.
Marco had an almost irresistible urge to rattle the girl with Ace. His Ace.
Marco tried not to glare too much at Ace's date—a pink-haired woman who kept on talking animatedly, while Ace listened and ate at the same time. At least that was what Marco assumed.
He didn't dare sit close to their table despite his desire to be close to Ace, and chose a table by the windows. Yet that position could only give him the view of the back of Ace's chair, while his date was clear as day.
Even though his current situation was pretty much unfavorable towards him, Marco didn't regret his decision to follow Ace. He ignored the part of him telling how embarrassing it was to discreetly follow someone like an obsessed person. But that someone was Ace, and he could be a stalker anytime for him.
No sooner after his glaring did he recognize the jealousy burning in the bottommost pit of his stomach. He wanted to switch places with that woman. He wanted to be the one sitting across the table from Ace. He'd waited four thousand years for him and now that Ace was reborn, within reach, he couldn't even have him because he was fucking taken!
The waiter approached his table and interrupted his musings. "What would you like for this evening, sir?"
I want Ace by my side. "What do you recommend?" he asked offhandedly.
"Our bestseller is chicken a la—"
"Nevermind."
"Sir?"
Marco sighed and looked the waiter in the eye, hoping the disgust didn't show in his face. "I don't like anything with poultry because I"—am the phoenix—"am allergic."
"O-oh! So sorry about that, sir. Then would you like our seafood platter?"
"I do. That's so much better, thank you."
The flustered waiter apologized again before leaving, and Marco turned his attention back to Ace.
The woman was still talking, but Ace seemed to be busy with the food laid out on their table. Marco couldn't help chuckling because food still was Ace's primary concern, no matter the time. He kept staring at Ace, devouring his meal, so it took him aback when Ace suddenly stopped and gave his full attention to the woman.
Marco swallowed the scream building up his throat, closing his eyes and clenching his hand against the tablecloth to keep himself grounded to his seat. No, he couldn't just run in there and whisk Ace away. His goal for tonight was to make sure Ace was safe, and that was it. He could react to certain things he was learning from Ace, but he mustn't—shouldn't—interfere.
At least not yet. I just saw Ace today, he reasoned.
The buzz of conversation slowly died until there was someone, a woman, shrieking. To his surprise, that woman was Ace's date.
"I like you, dammit! I thought that was pretty obvious because I always go out with you and even fucking accepted your invitation on fucking Valentine's Day!"
The first thought on Marco's mind, after he got over his surprise, was that the woman was just confessing to Ace, which meant that she wasn't his girlfriend. Marco hadn't thought much of that, whether it was right or not, just because. He told himself he wasn't jealous. He was too old to be jealous, for goodness sake.
The next thought focused on Valentine's Day. Was it really Valentine's today? That would explain why Marco kept seeing lovers all day; plus the restaurant was full of sickeningly sweet individuals. His ignorance over the passing time was to blame for the surprise.
Because he was too lost in his thoughts he failed to notice that the talk between Ace and his date had gone quieter, ceasing his eavesdropping. Seeing no other solution, Marco dropped the act of conspicuously glimpsing to outright staring at Ace's table.
The woman's face clearly indicated that whatever was happening displeased her, and Marco tried to keep down the glee bubbling in his throat. He was afraid he'd jump up and start rejoicing if he didn't watch himself. She stood up, said some more indiscernible words, and left Ace who was still rooted in his seat.
Marco watched the woman raise a hand to her mouth, unsuccessfully muffling her cries, and his happiness left him. It was so wrong to be happy in someone else's misery, Marco knew this, but he of all people knew misery the best. Misery had been his ever-present companion for centuries. He was pretty sure no one was more familiar with the feeling than him.
But still, that was no excuse. So even though he was dying to get up and go to Ace, he didn't. I've waited for him for hundreds of years. It won't hurt to wait for a few more hours. Or days. Marco hoped the days wouldn't turn to weeks. Weeks were his deal breaker.
A man in a chef's attire turned up at Ace's table, piquing his curiosity. Their conversation was brief, and Ace was left all alone, never moving from his chair. Soon, more courses were brought out and served at his table. When Ace picked up the fork and started eating in a much slower pace than was usual, Marco's felt his heart grow heavy. Ace is miserable.
He didn't know the entirety, but judging from Ace's actions, the woman wasn't the only one suffering. Without warning, the familiar feeling of sympathy washed over him. It was just like that moment in the oasis again—when Ace expressed his desire to reunite with his family in peace.
The similarity in helplessness numbed Marco, making him yearn to comfort Ace even more. He still hadn't recovered when the waiter brought over his seafood platter that went untouched. After an hour, the waiter took his meal back with a confused look while Marco mechanically pulled out some cash. He didn't even correct him when the waiter's look turned to one of understanding, because no, he wasn't stood up. Ace outran him, making him fail to chase his beloved when Marco was oh-so-near his goal.
Marco shook his head. He was definitely growing more poetic as time passed.
Out of habit, Marco lost track of the time. But who needed a watch when one could look at the sky and tell the time? The sky was tinted an interesting combination of black and orange, a sign of a storm. Marco had always wondered why the night looked like it was screened in black but he still wasn't sure why. The Sun didn't tell. Marco made a mental note to harass the Sun for not keeping his promise to ask the Moon—a very difficult promise to keep seeing as they only met every eclipse.
Judging by the position of the moon and the country where he was at the moment, Marco could say it was almost midnight. He wanted to find a clock and see if he was right and was about to do that when someone cleared his throat, someone very near him. Ah, it was probably the waiter, informing him it was closing time.
He turned to the waiter and froze when he realized he got it wrong.
His eyes must be deceiving him.
Ace stood by his table, looking nervous and determined at the same time. Marco had already admired Ace's appearance in private before, when Ace had gotten out and he'd followed in a cab. He hadn't even managed to get his own car in his trepidation. To be honest, Marco preferred Ace's Sumerian clothing and yes, it was because there never was much cloth to begin with, exposing his impressive arms and chest. But now, Ace was looking very… delectable, if Marco was saying his true feelings, in dark jeans and a tight fitting shirt. He tried not to stare too much.
"Hey, I'm Ace," Ace said, holding out a hand and a hint of a smile appearing on his face. Could this man be any sexier?
Thankfully, he didn't do any of the embarrassing things running in his mind. He shook Ace's hand, warm and surprisingly soft—a direct contrast from his callused-laden ones.
"Marco."
Ace pulled out of the handshake and stood, looking everywhere except at Marco. He fought the smile and tried not to think of what Ace looked to him now—cute.
"Would you like to sit with me?" That was what Ace was waiting for, right? Not that he would drive Ace away if the case were the opposite.
Ace sat down opposite him, still exuding awkwardness and conflict. Marco wondered what he wanted to say and realized he shouldn't wonder anymore.
Ace suddenly asked, "Um, why are you still here by yourself?"
Blunt as ever, Marco thought fondly, fighting a smile. Going back to Ace's question, it was a question he had mixed feelings about answering. For one, he wanted to be with Ace—after all those time waiting for him. But naturally, he couldn't push himself to Ace. And this was where the second problem came in—how Ace would react when he found out. Anyone who got introduced to someone he supposedly knew in his past life would panic or worse, think that someone was crazy—and Marco was far from crazy. A fool, yes, but not crazy.
And yet, every inch of Marco screamed to say the whole truth to Ace, now that he had his full attention. He tried to forget why Ace was in this place in the first place to keep the jealousy, happiness, and guilt at bay.
Oh, all this sitting and thinking was making his head hurt. Marco adjusted in his seat, propping arm on the table after a mental why not? and rested his head on his hand.
"I was waiting for someone," was what slipped out before he could think twice. Too late to take it back.
Ace's eyes widened, shining in understanding. "Was? You're not waiting anymore? Did she come?"
At this, Marco tried his hardest not to burst out laughing. How could Ace assume he was waiting for a date?
"He did." He said that because he was curious to see how Ace would react. Ace's reactions were too funny.
And he was right. This time, Ace's eyes grew as wide as saucers and he blinked slowly as he stared at Marco. "Oh. What happened then?"
What happened indeed? Well, it's a work in progress, Ace, since you were the one I was waiting for. Marco couldn't exactly say this, too, so he settled with an answer that was also true.
"I don't know." I don't know what will happen now that you're here.
"Oh. We're the same. I don't know what happened either." Ace wore a forlorn expression when he sighed. Marco tried not to grimace and hoped Ace wouldn't talk about his time with the woman. "I thought we were just friends. Turned out she wanted to be more than that," Ace said, looking shocked.
Oh. Oh! For goodness' sake, how could Marco not see this?! Of course, Ace had always been blind when it came to other people liking him. Marco bet Ace hadn't even fully realized his feelings back then in his first life.
He seriously didn't know what to say to that, but he did feel a fresh wave of guilt when he remembered the weeping girl. And with that girl in mind, probably because he wanted to make up in some way for badmouthing her, Marco said, "That's very sad."
Ace's brows rose in shock, obviously not expecting Marco's answer. Then his expression quickly changed to uncertainty. "You don't think I'm stupid? I mean, she called me oblivious."
"Hm." Marco obviously didn't think of Ace as stupid. His Ace was the bravest man he knew, but of course, he had to remind himself that that Ace was not this Ace. And as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't know much about this Ace. "You might be. Oblivious, I mean," he answered truthfully. Ace's face slackened. Oh, he looked absolutely crestfallen. "But I don't blame her for liking you," Marco said in a rush. "That's why I said it's sad."
Marco was positive he ruined himself in front of Ace. That sounded too creepy, even to a million-year-old creature like him. He could barely hide his surprise when a flush colored Ace's cheeks. Despair went as suddenly as it had come, and Marco's heart soared.
Ace's next words rooted him back to the ground, though.
"What about you? Have any sad stories?" The bright brown eyes glimmered as they stared into his soul, and Marco melted, having been always weak to those eyes. He couldn't blame Ace for asking the wrong questions. That must mean he should start hinting about their past, albeit slowly and carefully.
Sad stories? Oh, Marco had lots. Then again, the saddest story of his life involved this person sitting in front of him.
"I have," he confirmed slowly. His mind took him back in time when electricity and buildings were nonexistent, and humans were only learning how to live together by a set of rules. The image of the sand, the oasis, the civilization, the war, and Ace. He fought a shudder as the memory he suppressed for years was being coaxed out of his mind. He hoped to the heavens above that his voice didn't sound too troubled as he said, "I witnessed the saddest thing a person can see."
"And that is?" Ace probed like the adorably obnoxious man he was.
Marco debated with himself, checking if he should really talk about this. As his mind raveled, he finally noticed that his and Ace's heads were bent towards each other, and that their conversation had quieted down to hushed whispers. The air felt so intimate, so familiar, that Marco had to pull back before he could do anything stupid. Like attack Ace with a passionate kiss.
"It's a secret." He forced a smile.
Ace looked startled before his face turned crimson once more. "Oh. Of course! You won't share that to a stranger."
Ace looked extremely mortified, and Marco didn't want his Ace to feel that way, so he wracked his brain for something to say—something to quell the rising discomfort. "What do you do, Ace?" he found himself saying.
Just as expected, Ace's brows creased into a frown. It took him a few seconds to answer. "M-me? I, uh, teach self defense to kids and adults."
Marco stared at Ace in amusement, finally noticing that indeed Ace was well-built, but not as much as before. "Self defense?" His voice mirrored his amusement. Marco's lips quirked up.
He could see how Ace's shoulder relaxed before a blinding smile was being directed at him. "Yeah. It makes me feel alive. What about you? I mean, you look like you can be a self defense instructor, too." Ace's eyes roamed his body, and Marco fought a smirk when he saw a gleam of appreciation.
But Marco was not leading an exciting life as Ace was. He felt sorry that all he could say was, "I teach history and I deal with the stock market on my free time." Surely, Ace would not find his profession as interesting as he found Ace's.
But he was proven wrong once again when Ace expressed his amazement, looking at Marco with respect and admiration. "Wow. That's so cool." Then Ace's face scrunched up. "Um, I mean, what you do is very—good and, um, cool."
The way Ace's nose wrinkled was simply adorable. Marco let out a chuckle. "Thank you. I think your job is cool, too."
He was almost blinded when he was presented with that billion-watt smile again.
"So where do you live?" Ace asked, his head tilted slightly in curiosity.
After Marco answered that, another question was fired off. And then it was his turn. Then Ace's. They took turns asking whatever it was they could think about or wherever the topic of their conversation had taken them.
It was familiar yet so strange to be sitting in this empty restaurant, talking with Ace. Marco could almost feel the humid air, could almost hear the birds twittering above him, could almost imagine the berries he had offered to this freckled man. However, the things he learned about this Ace were definitely new and he absorbed them all.
And later, when Ace offered him a ride, he could not bring himself to refuse. Just a few more minutes. Let me be with Ace for a few more moments.
Marco certainly did not expect to get a kiss that night—but he would be lying if he said he didn't steal it.
Sweat trickled down Marco's skin as he trudged on unsteady ground, his mind set on one destination.
"Hey, wait up."
He stopped and turned back, suppressing a smile at Ace's hunched over form. He could hear Ace's pants despite the ten-foot distance between them. Once Marco was by Ace's side, he offered his water bottle which Ace accepted. "Do you want to stop and rest?"
Ace chugged his bottle and gasped loudly once he was done. Ace's skin was bathed in a light sheen of sweat, and he looked absolutely wilted even after drinking. Suddenly, Marco felt a little guilty for dragging Ace with him.
"Are you kidding?" Ace exclaimed. "Now that I remember, of course I don't want any more delays. Let's go. C'mon."
Marco was surprised at the sudden determination lighting his lover's face, so familiar and so natural. He felt more at ease when Ace reminded him that no secrets were kept between them anymore.
It had taken time—one year, to be exact—before Ace started having nightmares about the past. Soon, Marco was telling him everything, heart in throat as half of himself waited for Ace to up and leave. Nobody believed that easily in reincarnation, after all.
But alas, Ace was and had always been full of surprises. He'd kissed Marco with a fiery burn of a thousand suns, muttering Marco's name over and over. Questions had been asked. Answers had been given. Wandering hands had touched places, reverent and almost reminiscing. The three magical words Ace always told him had been given a new meaning that night.
Ace had remembered and wanted him still, and that was all that mattered.
Only one task remained, and that was Marco's trip to Egypt to relinquish his immortality. He, the Sun, and the Grim Reaper had made an agreement to take back the gift only after finding Ace.
So now there they were, traipsing on the Egyptian desert to reach the pyramids on the western part of the country, just so Marco could talk with the Sun like he always did. His first choice would be the Pyramid of Khufu in Giza, but too many tourists loitered around the place to his liking. He wanted some privacy. Ace had found a spot that was not privy to many people, and it was perfect, save for the trekking under the sun.
"There it is! I can see it," Ace said excitedly. "C'mon, Marco." Marco was dragged by the hand and was forced to run alongside a now thrilled Ace.
Soon they were in front of the pyramid, and it was bigger than they expected. Marco initially wanted to climb to the top but maybe staying at the ground would suffice.
Marco turned to Ace. "Stay back, okay? Things might get… hot."
Ace's eyes widened in recognition. Undoubtedly, he was remembering the rebirth process from his countless phoenix research. "Oh. Okay. Will you be all right?"
With a firm nod, Marco turned to stare up at the sky, squinting at the harsh glare. "I found Ace and have come to pay the price. Take my immortality."
There was a beat of silence where the barest of wind available seemed to have stilled. The sand was peaceful on the ground. Then there was a faint rumbling sound, and Marco squinted even more as he saw a ball of fire falling, almost like a meteor.
"What's that?" Ace whispered.
"Ace, whatever happens, don't come near me. You understand?"
"Yeah, but—"
The ball of fire increased its speed and before Marco could do or think of anything, he was surrounded in the blazing heat. His eyes widened and a surprised gasp left his mouth. The fire was not anything he anticipated at all. As a phoenix, fire had always been an ally to him. He never knew how fire was ever called destructive.
Now he did.
Scorching heat flared up around him, and he gritted his teeth in pain. He did not want to scream or do anything that would tell Ace he was hurting. His knees gave up on him, landing on his side. He curled into a ball and waited in despair for all of it to end.
Time was nonexistent, it always had been until recently. There was a faint voice coaxing him out of his stupor. Slowly, he focused on it.
"Marco. Marco, wake up, dammit! Oi, Marco!"
It took great effort but Marco eventually managed to open his eyes. The view of Ace's tear-stained face welcomed him, and he frowned. "Why are you crying?"
"You bastard," Ace choked out, but he was laughing. "You passed out an hour ago. 'Course I'm supposed to get worried."
Marco smiled. "Sorry for worrying you, then. In my defense, I didn't expect it to be that painful."
"You don't expect getting barbecued to be painful?" Ace raised a disbelieving brow. To Marco's relief, Ace was calming down. "Right." He helped Marco to his feet. "Should we go back to your house? Sabo and Lu and your friends are waiting for us."
"Yeah, let's go." Within twenty to thirty years, life would finally catch up to Marco, but that was okay. He'd found the person who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He found his answer, his reason for existing, and he appreciated all the things that happened that led him to where he was.
He'd be down in legends and history books, passed down from generations to generations. The phoenix that scholars were writing about had been, was, real at one point in time. But one thing was for sure now.
The immortal phoenix was no more.