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Concentration had never been Ace’s strong suit. He was as distractable as a ten-year-old could be, Dadan always griped, flitting from one thing to the next without bothering to finish anything. Patience was another thing he lacked; he wanted instant gratification, for an effort to yield an immediate reward, to be able to see the results of his toils before the task was even done.
Yes, impatience and impulsiveness were two of his defining qualities—and yet one of his most favorite things to do with Sabo was go fishing.
Ace didn’t know why it came so easily—sitting for hours on end at the edge of the stream, perfectly still and quiet as he waited for a fish that might not choose to bite. Perhaps what made the long wait worthwhile was the rush of exhilaration when he finally felt that little nibble on his bait, the thrill of battling with a flailing fish, the tantalizing chance that he may find himself reeling in a record-breaking monster. The reward was not immediate, nor was the process stimulating—yet here he was, sitting serenely by the stream next to Sabo and silently watching his bobber float atop the surface of the babbling water. If Dadan could see him, she’d probably wonder if he’d been kidnapped and replaced with a strange clone.
There’d be no mistaking it was him, though, if she happened to stick around long enough to see him hook a fish.
“I got one, Sabo! I got one!” Ace exclaimed when he felt the signature lurch of a fish swallowing the baited hook. With a grunt, Ace reared back the rod, feeling the familiar tug of a hook setting. He then hopped to his feet and frantically began to reel. He used to fish with a string tied to a stick (which unsurprisingly yielded little), but Sabo had managed to steal away with some nice, shiny, bonafide fishing rods a few weeks ago, and it had really elevated their fishing game. Ace had yet to get used to the slightly fancier tool and thus had yet to claim a fish; he would, though, because he’d be damned if he let Sabo take the risk of stealing the rods for nothing.
Both of the boys hooted and hollered in delight when the fish breached the surface for a moment, tail lashing and massive scaled body gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the trees.
“Look at it! It’s huge!” Sabo cried excitedly. “Come on, Ace, ya gotta get it!”
“I’m… trying…!” Ace groaned in exertion. He had his feet planted and back arched against the rod, which was bent to the point of nearly snapping. He let out a little slack in the line, easing the tension on the rod, then renewed his efforts. The fishing line screamed with his rapid reeling, and it quivered with the frantic flailing of the fish as it fought against Ace’s strength.
“You need me to do it for you?” Sabo asked, and the teasing lilt to his voice made a vein bulge in Ace’s forehead. He didn’t dare let go of the pole and risk it being yanked out of his hand, so he used his hip to angrily push Sabo.
“Shut yer trap! I can do it!” he insisted. With a determined huff, he squared his shoulders and spread his legs in a wider stance. “All right, fish! Yer gonna become dinner, like it or not! Raaaaaaaaaah !” With a mighty roar, he tugged back on the fishing pole while reeling as fast as his hand could turn.
Ace and Sabo began to squeal in near euphoria as the weary fish neared the shallows, languidly tossing and turning with feebler and feebler resistance. Giggling breathlessly, Ace waded down in the shadows and reached for the line to haul the fish in. It looked so big and juicy and scrumptious! He couldn’t wait to share it with Sabo!
Suddenly, with a final burst of energy, the fish snapped itself left and right. Ace cried out in dismay as the line snapped; desperate not to let the fish get away, he dropped the pole to fling himself into the shallows after the fleeing fish. He managed to grab ahold of it, but he had no hope of holding onto its sleek, slippery body; it wiggled right out of his hands, then disappeared through a tangle of watergrasses to flee as far down the stream as it could get. Ace sat up on his hands and knees, bottom lip quivering and eyes watering as he just stared at the place it had vanished.
“Damn it!” he cursed and slammed his fist down into the water. The cold liquid splashing up into his face just soured his mood even more; with an angry whine, he plopped down on his butt in the stream and crossed his arms. He didn’t want to cry in front of Sabo, because it totally wasn’t cool; but Ace was close, his face blotchy-red and his eyes misty and his lip shaking tremulously. “Stupid fish…”
“Aw, it’s okay, Ace,” Sabo crooned sympathetically, wading into the stream to stand next to him. He leaned down to retrieve Ace’s discarded pole, which had only been prevented from being swept away by the stream by tangling in a clump of reeds. Sabo began to carefully untangle it, continuing, “You did a great job! Sometimes they get away no matter what, though.”
“Yeah, well, I have to catch something with this stupid pole or else—!” Ace quickly cut himself off, looking away from Sabo.
“Or else what?”
“... Or else… Your gift’ll go to waste…” Ace muttered.
“Waste?” Sabo asked, then chuckled. He tugged the fishing pole free from the fronds with a small “umph!”, then sloshed around to Ace’s side. When Sabo held it out to him, Ace sniffed stubbornly and tossed his head. He was gonna need a minute to brood before he could attempt fishing again.
“Ace, there’s no such thing as a gift that goes to waste,” Sabo laughed. “That kinda defeats the purpose.”
“Whatcha mean?” Ace asked, turning just enough to raise an eyebrow at him.
“The point of giving a gift isn’t for the other person to make use of it. The point of giving a gift is just that— giving it.” Smiling, Sabo ran his hand up the sleek rod. “I stole the rods because I wanted us to have fun fishing together, not because I wanted to catch bigger and better fish. We could sit out here all day and night and not catch a thing, and I’ll still be happy. ‘Cuz the best part of fishing is hanging out with you.”
“Sabo…” Ace breathed. This time, he didn’t hold back his tears. It was okay to cry when one was happy, after all. They flowed freely down his face as he stood up and grabbed the rod. “Thanks, Sabo,” he smiled brightly at him.
“You’re welcome, crybaby,” Sabo snickered, but still used his sleeve to scrub at Ace’s face.
“How you gonna call me a crybaby when you’re the one that said it’s okay to cry happy tears?” Ace whined, trying to run away from Sabo’s help but not succeeding.
“It is okay. That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna tease you about it.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is? Fine! I’mma catch an even bigger fish, and fry it up nice, and then eat all of it right in front of your stupid face!”
Of course, they didn’t catch anything after that; they scared all the fish away, laughing and splashing one another in the shallows of the stream. But that was okay. Even if after the long wait there was no rush of exhilaration when he finally felt that little nibble on his bait, no thrill of battling with a flailing fish, no tantalizing chance that he may find himself reeling in a record-breaking monster—Ace got to spend the day with Sabo. That made everything worthwhile.