Chapter Text
Twenty Days
Twenty days… Almost a month… two weeks and six days… four hundred and eighty hours… And he wanted to go home. He wanted to see the small, chaotic family he had gathered with such care. He wanted to still be trying to take the old man’s head… He missed hearing Thatch complain about him stealing food… He missed hearing Deuce tell far-fetched stories about the infirmary… He even missed trying to annoy the blonde idiot who served as the old man’s first mate…
His heart tightened a bit at the thought.
Now, he couldn't remember when it had all started. Deuce used to call him a mindless idiot—maybe he was. After all, the blonde, Marco… he hadn't actually done anything to him. He had tried to talk, had even returned Deuce to him, and assured him that despite his, uh, father’s methods of doing things… they weren't going to hurt him. They wanted him…
“Then why am I in this situation?” he thought in frustration, wishing he could feel more hatred toward Marco.
A low moan caught his attention, and he focused on the person beside him… and remembered why they were there and how they had to find a way to leave.
To hell with the Whitebeards.
Surely they had already given up searching for one of their precious commanders and must have replaced them quickly. It’s not like there’s a shortage of people on that ship, right? They could even put the second-in-command of the sixteenth division to replace Izo.
"Izo…" he called, his voice low and hoarse. His throat ached. "Izo…" he tried again, checking if the man was lucid.
"A-Ace…"
The raven-haired youth sighed in relief, feeling hope swell in his stomach. Finally, they could get out of there. If the man could just pick the Seastone (Kairouseki) handcuffs, everything would be resolved…
"Where… Ah… My head..."
"Keep your voice down…" he pleaded. Last time, the men outside heard voices and showed up.
"Ace, what… what is h-happening?"
"The usual. Kidnapping, sales, you being this fragile thing… bad men, and blah blah blah."
Izo wanted to laugh at the young man’s nonchalant voice, but he felt the tension too. Apparently, things weren't good at all… His mind was muddled and spaced out. However, as the elder, he needed to look after the child present.
"Did they… drug me?" he murmured.
"Yeah… Izo… the handcuffs," Ace whispered, moving slightly. He was so tired, hungry, and many other things.
He watched the commander slowly sit up and move his shackled hands toward his hair, shifting them slightly until he pulled out a hairpin. Ace smiled with relief; he knew the sniper was full of these tricks, much like Commander Haruta. The problem was keeping the okama awake and lucid.
In this world… long ago, when the sea was still young and Haki was a wild, nameless force, the ocean gods realized that physical strength was not enough to maintain the sanity of those who dared to challenge the Grand Line. Loneliness and the trauma of battle were shattering the most valuable spirits.
It was then that the legend of the Temper Bond emerged—the origin of the Marks.
Legend has it that the first Pirate, long before Roger, felt his soul fragmenting under the weight of his conquests. On a forgotten island in the Florian Triangle, he found a spring of silvery water. Upon touching the water, his desire to be cared for and his need to protect manifested physically.
His skin burned, and on his forearm, a Mark appeared: an intricate symbol that glowed with the color of his will. From that day on, the phenomenon spread throughout the world. The Mark was not a label, but a biological resonance. It emerged between two people whose souls were pieces of a puzzle: one who needed a safe harbor to rest their mind (Lirein) and another whose strength found purpose in providing security (Curius).
In plain terms: it was a piece of crap that fate decided to impose on pirates. Hurray!
Even before heading out to sea, he had seen pirates in Foosha Village with… that thing. He, Sabo, and Luffy never truly understood what it meant; after all, the mark only appeared once you started sailing. But by observing, he noticed one pirate stuck to another, acting like a child… it was as weird then as it sounded now.
Curiously, he asked Luffy if Shanks—the pirate he knew—acted that way. It took a while, but his little brother said that once, the pirate didn't drink and instead played with him for hours on end until the first mate came to fetch him.
Sabo's conclusion made him irritable; if they were going out to sea, that curse would hit them eventually.
"But we'll have each other, it's nothing to worry about, Ace. I’ll look out for you and you’ll look out for me… I bet Luffy will find good people to take care of him."
The answer was so good it quieted that nagging voice in his mind. He would have his brother with him… but it didn't happen… Sabo was gone… and he kept his promise, living with no regrets.
When he first went out to sea, he expected that thing to hit him, but nothing happened in the first week. When he was shipwrecked and met Deuce, then ate the Mera Mera no Mi, still nothing happened.
"It doesn't work like that, Captain," Deuce commented one night. "There’s something magical and biological that resonates."
"Magical?" he murmured. His idiot first mate laughed.
"Yes. Look, now that you’re fire, perhaps the user of a water or ice-type Devil Fruit might be your compatible… it’s different for you users."
"I don't know… couldn't you be my compatible?" he asked, after all, he had already revealed so much about himself to the man.
"I can’t…" the man smiled and showed his arm. A lily was there, still looking like a sketch on the skin.
"When…?"
"When Skill joined the crew," he smiled softly. "Well… at least I understand now. It’s something magical, you’ll realize it eventually."
When Ace saw their interaction, he felt strange at first. Skill, a tall man with big dreams, acted like a child and Deuce just… stayed close and… took care of him? It was confusing to him, but he learned not to judge and even interacted with them and the others who belonged to his small, chaotic family.
But of course… everything good and easy has a downside.
When Ace and the Spades saw their first human and Lirein trafficking ship, he needed all his strength not to vomit. The ship owner said it was a special cargo for the Celestial Dragons.
Let’s just say Ace has fond memories of how he tortured those men.
"... Ace…"
Blinking, the raven-haired youth turned back to Izo, who was now slowly standing up. It reminded him that now was not the time to wander through the past.
"You’re hurt!" the commander murmured worriedly as he moved. "How many days?"
"Twenty…" he stifled a groan when strong hands touched his injured shoulder.
"I…"
"Let’s get out of here first, then you can do whatever you want!" he muttered, looking away.
"Pops…" the okama began, looking around, but stopped when Ace laughed in a strange way.
"I think the old man gave up a long time ago. We changed ships days ago… I’m sure there’s already another sixteenth commander."
Izo sighed and shook his head slightly. Just as Ace was beginning to trust them a little more, this had to happen. When he found their captors, he would show no mercy.
"Pops will come," he said seriously. "I can't get these cuffs off with just this pin. Can you walk?"
Ace nodded slightly without arguing about Whitebeard. With the other man's help, he stood up, holding back groans of pain. Izo quickly noticed that the teenager had certainly been tortured, while he only felt some headaches and back pain… it made it clear they didn't intend to hurt him.
With care and agility, he opened the cell they were in and headed for the door. Activating his Haki, he noticed a few men on the upper floor… that would give them time.
"Let’s go, I need a weapon!" he commented darkly.
Ace felt his legs shaky from accumulated exhaustion, pain, and the cuffs. As he followed Izo, he remembered how it all began.
Twenty days ago.
When he promised to take the head of the strongest Yonkou in the world, Ace wasn't expecting an offer to join the crew (literally a kidnapping), let alone being so sore every single day.
"How many times has it been now?" he heard a crewman ask curiously.
"I don't know, man. Eighty-seven, I think. I stopped counting on day twenty."
Ninety, actually.
Ninety days of trying to take the old man's damn head without any positive results. The bastard actually seemed to enjoy it when he showed up. It was also noticeable that the giant hand hadn't been hitting him with the same force for weeks… that affectionate glow in those golden eyes was so irritating; he always wanted to blind him so it would stop, but he couldn't… he just couldn't.
Why?
Why?
"H-Hey!" he suddenly grunted when someone picked him up, taking advantage of his rest after a "light tap" from the giant. "L-Let me go!"
"No, kid. Time for a medical exam. We finally caught you!"
It was Jozu, the third division commander.
Exam? What the hell? He didn't need that. I mean, his ribs still hurt, but he didn't need a doctor. Deuce had already bandaged him.
"Let me go!" he growled, letting flames lick his arms. But the commander seemed prepared because he turned into diamond.
"If you don't behave, we'll cuff you. Father already gave the order."
Ace stared at him for tense seconds before trying to flee by turning into flames again. However, everything suddenly went black, and when he woke up, he was cuffed to a gurney in the infirmary.
Oh, great. Damned narcolepsy.
"I assume this isn't a good start for exams."
A monotonous voice pulled him back to reality. Naturally, he reacted by sitting up, only to slump back down feeling exhausted. What?
"Seastone… if you behave, I promise to remove the cuffs."
Oh, right. They promised to cuff him, and all with the captain's approval. That only made the anger grow inside him. He didn't need exams.
"Come on, Portgas, it won't be that bad."
Blinking a bit, he focused on the person beside him. Blonde hair in a ridiculous shape, a vacant gaze, a monotonous voice, a purple jacket… Ah. Marco the Phoenix, First Mate and first division commander of the Whitebeards.
And the ship's chief doctor.
Did that guy ever sleep?
"Yes, I do sleep."
Ace felt embarrassed when he realized he had asked that out loud; maybe he was rambling too much.
"I’m going to take the cuffs off, alright? I ask that you stay. We are worried about your health, yoi."
"We are?" he almost snarled. "Then why keep me here? Give me back my ship and crew, then I won't be your problem anymore."
"We want you here," the blonde moved, grabbing a key and actually opening the cuffs. Fire licked his shoulders and his fatigue lessened. "You should stop, yoi."
"What? And join the family?" he mocked, rubbing his wrist.
"Yes!" the calm, steady answer irritated him again. Everything about that man irritated him, even more than the captain or what he had been living through for ninety days.
"No fucking way!" he growled.
Marco sighed as if he were extremely tired and picked up a clipboard, staring at him with that vacant look. It was like looking at the blue sky through foggy glass… Wait, what was he thinking?
"Can you tell me your exact age? Any allergies, yoi?" he commented.
"What’s all this for?" the raven-haired youth growled defensively.
"You’ve been on board for almost five months. Even if it doesn't look like it to you, we wish you well, yoi. Your first mate refused to talk to me… so we had to take this opportunity, yoi. It wasn't very conventional… sorry for that."
Ace felt happy that Deuce was a true friend. Despite what they were going through, he had been loyal. He would look for him later and thank him.
"I don't understand," he murmured.
"Portgas…" the blonde sighed. "We are a family. We support each other, yoi."
"I already have my companions!" he growled low. "Let me go."
"Pops wants you as a son, I can't do that," he denied compassionately. "Answer the questions, yoi."
Ace really wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he felt tired again and sighed loudly. He’d have to raid the pantry later… two plates didn't satisfy him at all… Thatch couldn't find out.
"What?" Marco asked him, startled.
"What?" he asked back, alarmed. "What happened?"
The blonde stared at him, looking confused, before shaking his head and focusing on the clipboard. That was weird. Very weird.
"The sooner you answer, the sooner you can leave, yoi."
With a grunt, he gave in. He answered Marco's questions and tried to find an escape route in case something in that interrogation bothered him too much.
"Do you have any health problems, yoi?" he asked monotonously.
"Hum… does narcolepsy count?" he commented, genuinely curious. Sabo once said it was a sleep problem.
"Narcolepsy?" The blonde raised his glassy eyes to him. That bothered him. "Random sleep attacks, yoi?"
"Yes?" he murmured, shrinking back slightly.
"Did you for a moment think about telling us?"
"No!" he smiled slightly. "Just give me my ship back and I'll go back to taking the meds."
The air seemed thin for two seconds before the First Mate sighed, rubbing his face. He looked even more tired. See? Being a doctor doesn't lead to anything good.
"We are close to an island; we should arrive in two days. I’ll ask your first mate about the meds and we’ll buy more, yoi. You’re underweight. Even though Pops doesn't hit hard, your ribs are still bruised, which shouldn't be happening, yoi."
He knew that. If he didn't eat well, he wouldn't have energy to spend, his wounds would take longer to heal, and his damn illness would exhaust him. After all, he knew himself well. He knew he was at his limit, but… he didn't want to give in to the voices in his head.
"Have you ever had any vaccines?" Marco's voice brought him back.
"Vaccine? What’s that?" His curiosity came out louder than his words.
Marco groaned as if he were dying, and Ace laughed softly. Okay… that was funny. Until the blonde explained what a vaccine was and tried to give him some. No way. He wasn't going to let anything strange enter his body. He simply set the mattress on fire and turned into a flame, leaving the infirmary through the ventilation duct.
For two hours, he heard the shouts and curses with his name. No way was he coming out now.
He was only defeated by an absurd hunger.
When it got dark and his captors were no longer looking for him, he went to the pantry. He ate what he could and filled his arms to take to his hiding spot until he heard voices in the kitchen, making him freeze.
"... Calm down. The great Thatch will make some hot chocolate, alright?" Thatch's voice sounded so affectionate that Ace doubted for a second it was him.
The fourth commander was undoubtedly the closest thing to a… friend. An acquaintance, maybe. He fed Ace, even though he was stubborn, and always left the pantry open for him. So, he liked the chef a little bit. Thatch always sounded playful and dramatic, but not this affectionate.
"T'atc'..."
The raven-haired youth didn't recognize the voice at first, and moved by curiosity, he peeked through the door into the kitchen.
Thatch had his back to the stove, and sitting at the small table was Izo, in pajamas and without makeup, his hair loose.
Ace blinked several times, trying to understand the scene.
The sixteenth commander didn't spend much time on the Moby Dick, but on the second ship. From the little he understood, it was a three-month rotation among everyone. He must have arrived in the afternoon. In the few times he’d seen him, the man was intimidating, both due to the exotic beauty of Wano and his posture… but now he…
Ah… Ah!
This was definitely strange.
"There you go, Iz…" Thatch moved with a mug in his hands and sat in front of his companion. "Here… let Thatch cool it down for you…" he smiled, blowing on the contents.
Ace felt like an intruder watching that.
Deuce and Skill were discreet as well… Bashena and Han too. When they were on deck, Ace would approach and interact; it was like playing with Luffy again, and he never wanted to know much about it—after all, he didn't have the damn mark yet.
"T'atc'..." Izo's voice was low and sweet. This made Ace's stomach sink a bit.
The commander was so… vulnerable. If Thatch were mean, he could hurt him, or worse, or…
"Slowly… there’s more where that came from…" He blinked at the scene. Thatch was now holding Izo's hands on the mug and helping him drink.
The side door opened and Marco walked through, stretching. But he stopped when he noticed the commanders. Something like pain flashed across the blonde's face, along with something else Ace couldn't identify.
"Sorry, yoi," he asked softly.
"Ma'co!" Izo called, appearing excited now.
"That's right, our feathery friend…" Thatch laughed playfully as always.
Marco approached, stroking Izo's loose hair before looking at the fourth commander calmly.
"Tough day… Kiku's anniversary…" he commented calmly.
"I see…" The vacant gaze turned back to Izo. "Thatch will sleep with you, Iz… he’s the best at hugs, yoi."
Izo smiled at the blonde and went back to drinking from the mug with help. A few more words were exchanged before the blonde left with a mug of coffee. It didn't take long for Thatch to leave with Izo, and Ace could finally leave his hiding spot and go to his old corner.
He had many questions, but he knew he wouldn't find answers… and besides, it was none of his business, right?
Right.
(...)
Another frustrated attempt and the pain was getting worse… It was so difficult now… What did he need to do? What did he have to do to get rid of them?
The sound of sandals on the floor caught his attention until a plate of soup was placed in front of him. In the background, shouts and celebrations echoed in the wind, and he just wanted to throw himself into the sea again. Idiot pirates, idiot old man…
"Why?" he murmured as the person began to walk away.
"What?" Marco’s monotonous voice irritated him.
"Why do they call him Father? Why are they happy? Why?"
Marco sighed, looking at the child with a bit of focus… Had his Father made a wrong choice this time? It seemed so.
"It’s because he calls us sons… It’s just a word, but in this world where we are nothing but the trash of society, it makes us happy."
But the blonde didn't look happy, despite the slight smile.
"Listen, Ace…" Marco knelt in front of him, looking at him seriously. That glassy gaze bothered Ace again. "You need to make up your mind… Either you stay at the next island and we return your things and you try again in a few years… Or you stay and take our flag on your back… Your companions can stay too, if they want… Think about it… We arrive at nightfall!" he warned calmly, standing up. "The decision is yours."
Ace brooded over those words for hours… When they docked, many began to leave the ship, and he did the same, casting a long look at Whitebeard.
He needed to think…
He was cursed by blood… If Whitebeard knew… he would kick him out… But… what if he tried? Deuce was there, Thatch wasn't bad… the few others he interacted with were nice too. Izo had already mended his shirt; Jozu tried to train him. No one truly ignored him if he appeared on deck… also, after the infirmary, whenever he had a narcoleptic episode, he noticed a crewmember nearby… He… he could…
Ace snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the red kimono ahead.
It was Izo.
The commander was shopping and seemed oblivious to his surroundings, chatting with a stall owner. This would have been normal if Ace hadn't noticed two men looking strangely tense, watching his… almost-crewmate.
Something in his gut didn't like that, so he approached the commander, clearing his throat.
"Ace, are you alright?" he commented calmly to the youth. He had sworn the boy would vanish, like the last few times, but look at that… Ace was coming back to the ship, wasn't he? Maybe there was hope.
"What are you doing, Commander? Where is Thatch?" he asked.
"You can call me Izo, Ace," he commented, paying the woman. "Thank you. Come, do you want to eat? Thatch should be with his own division doing the resupplying."
"Hum, right…" he commented suspiciously.
They still went into a few shops, and Izo actually took him to eat. He needed all his strength to eat only four plates and not look miserable… no one needed to know about his eating habits… That was another negative point about staying with them… He knew it…
"Ace…"
"Yeah?"
"When we turn the corner, I want you to run…" he commented lowly.
"Izo…"
The okama smiled slightly. Did the boy really think he hadn't noticed? It was cute, actually… He could hardly wait for the youth to accept them.
"I can’t put my little brother in danger, so I want you to run and call someone."
"I can fight!" he grumbled.
Izo smirked; of course the little rebel would say something like that, but he preferred to protect the boy. However, the plans changed when they turned the corner and several men were waiting for them.
The commander acted quickly, pushing Ace to the ground and drawing his pistols, gunning down the men without mercy. Then he pulled him up, and they ran together.
"Friends of yours?" the brat commented, drawing a laugh from him.
"Not even close…" he commented, turning and shooting two more who were following them. "Let’s head toward the Moby; surely someone will see us and we'll have reinforcements."
"What? Am I not enough for you?"
Ah, Izo was liking Ace’s personality more by the minute, even if he didn't spend much time on the Moby to interact in the future. The boy had talent…
Suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound, and Izo felt a needle-like pain in his shoulder… It wasn't a bullet… He would have smelled the gunpowder and… and…
"IZO!"
Ace stopped abruptly, catching the falling commander. Nothing made sense because he hadn't heard a gunshot or anything else… Was he wounded? No! What…
Suddenly, Izo began to tremble, clutching Ace’s shirt… The raven-haired youth panicked seeing the commander cry, and in the blink of an eye, they were surrounded.
"A rare piece from Wano, successfully acquired…" a strange voice sounded from the shadows.
A man in a suit appeared with a haughty look, and Ace felt nauseous… A trafficker, for sure. But they… Oh no! No! If they knew Izo was a Lirein… they…
The fire roared inside him, and a flaming wall rose in the air, separating them. He pulled the taller man toward him carefully. They were getting out of there… before the worst happened…
His thoughts were racing, and he made the mistake of not paying attention to his back. A gunshot rang out, and suddenly he found himself weak and powerless. The fire went out, and everything hurt.
A Seastone bullet.
"Who is this? He doesn't have Whitebeard's mark…" the man in the suit murmured.
"He’s a rookie pirate, sir!" one of them commented.
"Lirein or Curius?"
"No mark!" one of the men declared, pulling his arm. He groaned and tried to punch the man, but it was in vain.
"The bounty must be high. Let's take him and sell him to the Government as usual… His Devil Fruit should increase the price."
Suddenly, Ace found himself dragged onto an old ship with Izo in a muddled mental state, and he could only wonder if Whitebeard would come after them…
After him…
Probably not.
Now.
As he moved through the corridors, Ace felt even more exhausted with every step, yet he didn’t want to hinder Izo—not with this opportunity.
During those days, the traffickers had drugged the commander every two hours, leaving him in that fragile and helpless state. It had taken all of Ace’s strength to calm the "small" Izo and assure him that Thatch was coming… He had thought about running away or just shoving the bastards with all his might, but he couldn't leave the okama there… Not in that state… Never.
"Ace…"
The raven-haired youth blinked as he bumped into the taller man and offered a quiet apology. Izo felt terrible for making him run. He wasn't a Devil Fruit user, but because of his brothers, he knew it was a wretched experience of exhaustion and fatigue—and the kid was so badly hurt.
"Come here!" Stooping down, he turned to carry the boy on his back.
"No, Izo… I can manage… Just…"
"It’ll be easier this way, Ace. Move, someone is coming."
Ace would certainly deny that he needed help or that he had been in that embarrassing position with the older man… however, his body thanked him for the rest as he leaned against Izo’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Izo rose slowly, a bit dizzy from the extra weight, but kept his focus on whoever was approaching.
With the element of surprise, he managed to knock the man out. He noticed the syringe; the man was surely on his way to drug him again… Damn it. He would never forgive himself for such a lapse.
Grabbing the syringe and tying the man up, he secured a weapon as well. Counting the bullets, he let his Haki envelop him… There were nine men above and twenty on the upper deck, probably a few more in the crow’s nest… He needed to—
Suddenly, the ship shuddered, and a smile appeared on his face. He felt Ace squeeze him a little and adjusted the boy's weight with one hand.
"I told you Pops would come."
"Could’ve just been a storm…" Ace argued weakly.
"Oh… it’s a storm, alright… specifically an earthquake!" he laughed.
The ship shook again, followed by a horrible cracking sound. Something was about to fall.
“Pops is furious…” Even from there, he could feel his Father’s Haki burning.
It was time to move.
Agilely, he slid through the corridors, trying to avoid confronting the men for Ace’s sake. Another tremor made him stumble, and again there was that loud sound as the ship tilted 15 degrees.
"The mast…" Ace commented vaguely, and Izo understood. His Father must have snapped the main mast; there would be no mercy.
The sound of cannons and battle began. Izo found a door and forced it open, entering a storage room. He calmly sat Ace on a table and stood guard. The noise continued for long minutes until footsteps echoed in the hallway. Izo held his breath, ready to fire, but he recognized that signature… When the door opened, he practically leaped onto Thatch.
"Izo… fuck!" the fourth commander murmured. It was lucky he had good reflexes, or he might have hurt his brother.
"Thatch!" Izo murmured before pulling back and punching the idiot. "You took too long!"
"Ow, Izo!" he grumbled. "These guys were good at hiding, sorry… Oh heavens… Ace!"
The cook whispered as he approached the youth, who gave a faint smile; it was actually good to see him again.
"What the hell… what—"
"Thatch, let’s go… later…" Izo pleaded, gripping his arm.
Seeing how his companion's hand trembled despite his impassive face, Thatch gave a low nod and opened the door. Izo picked Ace up again, and together they began to move.
When they reached the deck, the fight was in its final stages. Ace looked at everything vaguely and didn't know how to feel. The Whitebeards had come… They hadn't abandoned the sixteenth division commander like he thought.
"Izo…"
Raising his head slightly, he realized they were already on the deck of the Moby Dick, and the others were surrounding them. Someone called his name, too, but he really just wanted to sleep now… He was exhausted.
Warm hands touched his back and lifted him from the other man. He almost protested but kept his dignity. Just as he was about to turn and give his thanks, the enormous shadow of Whitebeard enveloped them.
"My sons…"
"Pops!"
Izo ran to the giant like a child, and everyone made way. Ace stood there, watching the scene. Could someone just take this away from him? He wanted to go lick his wounds in peace.
"Go on…" That warm hand pushed him suddenly, and he stumbled a bit, only to be caught by a giant hand.
Before he could protest again, he was already being crushed against a broad, warm chest. He bit his lips to keep from surrendering to the tears and that feeling of comfort.
"Ace… my son…" A giant finger ruffled his hair, and he gave a light grumble. "Sorry for the delay… I’m sorry…"
Before he could even complain to the old man, his body gave way, going limp against him. It wasn't a sleep attack—cataplexy. He couldn't move or speak. Damn it.
"An attack?" he heard someone ask.
"Probably…" Whitebeard spoke softly, looking at the face of his youngest son.
"I’ll take him to the infirmary… get those cuffs off, yoi…" Ah… Marco.
He was moved delicately, and someone gathered him up. Warm arms and a scent of pine… strange… pine only grew on southern islands… in the Gray Terminal, only during winter… but now… that smell was actually nice.
He felt the bed beneath him, and minutes later, the sensation of extreme fatigue vanished, letting him breathe deeper.
"Rest, kid…" Marco’s voice sounded close, and a hand touched his hair. Did he… know? "Tomorrow is a new day. Get some rest, yoi."
Ace wanted to reply, but he couldn't. He felt the man cover him, and when he finally felt his own body again… he decided to surrender to the exhaustion and sleep.
Tomorrow was another day.
And a week later… Edward Newgate was proudly throwing a party for his newest son.
Portgas D. Ace.