𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 ➳ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐚 (one piece fanfic)

Chapter 103 ✊🏻

Ace was watching all the people he cared for put their lives on the line, all fighting for... him.

His heart ached painfully, throbbing loudly in his ears.

They were fighting for him. The son of a criminal who had scarred a generation of people. What right did he even have to live? They would have been happier if he hadn't been born... he wouldn't have caused so much suffering. Oars wouldn't have fallen if he wasn't there, Pops wouldn't have a glaring hole in his chest, his comrades wouldn't have died... So many lives lost because of him.

Why him? He was a stubborn, reckless fool, someone with dirty blood, a stupid asshole who endangered his whole crew for his selfishness. He hadn't listened to their advice and had recklessly set out to pursue Teach. He even tried to kill Whitebeard multiple times. He never did his work properly as a commander, he always slept, never cleaned, and he never showed them his love properly.

So why?

He couldn't understand why they were fighting for him, why they were bleeding out, crying for him. Why were they shouting his name? They should just abandon him, turn back and stop their foolishness. He wouldn't blame them. He wouldn't, really.

The Marine would never let him be free anyway. He had to die. And he accepted that fate. The world would be better off without him. They would be better off without him, they could reign supreme over the seas again. He was a burden to everyone.

Yet... why did his heart ache when he heard their cries? when he heard his name being called out with such love and endearment. Telling him not to give up, telling him to keep on hoping. That was a cruel joke on the man who had given up on his life. To show him a glimmer of hope. To make him long for something more—to show him a glimpse of a happy future. He was becoming greedy. And he hated them for that.

And through the blurry vision, as he watched his crew look up at him with fiery determination, his chest constricted, twisting and burning. They awoke a fire long gone in him. He began hoping again.

Truthfully, he did want to continue his adventures with them, to continue bantering with his crew, to drink and laugh with them, to discover new islands, cause trouble and run away giggling, but always and inevitably be able to come back to them, to his home.

Yeah... he wanted to go back home.

Sobs erupted from his throat as snots ran down his nose, it had taken him that long to discover that he indeed wanted to live. Not just survive and die off when he wasn't needed anymore, but live with them, live for them, live for himself. He didn't want to die for some stupid things he wasn't responsible for.

He was ashamed of his thoughts, ashamed of wanting more, ashamed of his recklessness that led to this, ashamed of the blood that ran through his veins, but if maybe... despite everything, they were willing to accept him back, to forgive him, maybe then... everything would be alright. He could belong again.

Because in the end, all he ever wanted was someone to tell him it was okay to keep on living.

_________________

Once upon a time, on a rainy evening, a younger Ace had asked Konan a quiet question, one that stumbled hesitantly out of his mouth, along with pieces of his heart.

"Have you ever met my father?" Konan was older than all of them so maybe, just maybe...

If she didn't strain her ears, she might have missed his words. But she did and as it registered in her brain, she fell silent.

"I didn't have that opportunity," she had answered that evening. And when she saw him immediately blush and scramble to find an excuse to cover up his vulnerability toward the subject—to pretend like it didn't affect him—she felt she should have lied. But instead, all she did was hug him. Hug him and tell him how precious he was.

Both of them knew that such words were merely balm on wounds that ran deep, but there was comfort to be found in them nonetheless.

That was probably the first and last time Ace talked to her about Gol D. Roger.

But she knew it continued haunting him to this day. The fact that he was persecuted from a young age for his lineage forever scarred him.

Children bearing the consequences of the previous generations was a tale as old as the world.

Konan stared at Ace's trembling form, before averting her gaze to the Whitebeard pirates putting their lives on the line for him.

Whitebeard was bleeding out, a new hole opening up on his chest. Akainu had managed to puncture his chest, not without retaining injuries himself.

The descent into hell only continued for the pirates as Marco was caught in seastone handcuffs negating his powers, Jozu was frozen by Aokiji. Just like that the two top commanders were defeated.

Whitebeard knew they were at a key turning point, as he watched the Marines charge at him, he swiped his Naginata. "I am Whitebeard!" He shouted, as a reassurance and a warning. He would not go down so easily. Not when his sons' future hadn't been secured yet. He would stand before them. As their father, it was his role to protect them till the end.

"If I die now, will my death have any meaning? I shall not die before ensuring their future." Even as swords were stabbed into his chest, even as more blood could be seen than skin, he continued fighting.

But that wasn't enough, everyone watched as Sengoku ordered Ace's imminent death. No one could make it in time. Whitebeard fell to his knee as his sickness acted up. Just as everyone made a desperate dash to the execution scaffolding, the blades were already mere inches above Ace. Just as everyone lost hope, a burst of powerful Haki spread, knocking down all the weaker ones, including the executioners.

Immediately, Nanko dropped the thin needles in his hands, head snapping toward the screaming young man who continued running, unaware of what waves he had just created. The Haki of the Kings... Nanko couldn't help but smile, what a fitting power for the future Pirate King. He never stopped surprising him.