Unseekers (Portgas D. Ace X OC)

Chapter 4| Days Remembered

1078 days ago:

"Holy shit! Ace did it again!" The pirates guffawed as the freckled boy brought down a whole ship on his own. The enemy ship went down in a struggling splash, fire sizzling out in charred colors. as the ship sank.

"Show off..." Isabelle huffed, lolling against the mast.

"Jealous?" Marco asked, his shirt slightly wet from sea water. The weather was perfect as considering the hurdles of the Grand Line. Seagulls glided noisily up ahead, casting tiny gliding shadows across the deck.

"Of what? The rookie that is insanely popular just after a few weeks? Of course not," Isabelle folded her arms in front of her chest.

"The spot for Second Divison Commander has been empty for a while now..." Marco trailed off.

"No way. You're making him the Commander just after two weeks?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "I mean, yeah, he's kinda insanely strong and all but still--"

"Listen to me. I'm asking you to take up the job," Marco looked slightly irritated. "Since you've been here for some time now. Pops seems fine by it,"

"I'll have to refuse," Isabelle snorted, furrowing her brows

"That was fast,"

"Do you seriously trust me to keep the crew alive? I know I'm great but you shouldn't trust me so much. I'm fine working under your Divison." Isabelle arched an eyebrow at him.

Marco sighed, leaning back against the mast. "I don't know why I expected you say that." he paused. "Wait, you like working under me?"

"...I never said that." Isabelle didn't like the look in his face

"I bet you won't mind fixing the floorboards in the wine cellar. I'm counting on you," The older man threw her the keys, already walking away from her.

"Hey!" Isabelle considered throwing the key at the back of the pineapple man's head but decided against it.

The wine cellar smelled of aging wine and mold. Isabelle wondered why Pops liked drinking rotten grape juice. She pushed open the wooden door with her shoulder while heaving the metal tool-box in her arms. The floorboards were jutting out and she almost tripped on one.

Rows of racks were stacked beside each other, full of marked glass bottles of wine. More barrels of alcohol were tucked away in the corner. The sound of the sea lapping against the base of the ship was louder there.

Grumbling, she dropped the box on the ground with a ringing clang.

"Whoa!" A familiar voice exclaimed from behind one of the racks, making Isabelle jump.

"Wha--" She strode over behind the rack to see Ace seated against the wall, beside the window. He looked like he was in the middle of polishing his dagger or falling asleep "Whoa indeed,"

"What brings you down here?" Ace asked with a yawn, like being caught polishing a knife in the cellar wasn't weird at all.

"I was going to fix the floorboards. What brings you here?"

"I like it here. It's quiet," Ace shrugged. He was not wearing shirts nowadays, just his red bead necklace and signature hat.

"Not weird at all," Isabelle nodded, walking over to her toolbox. She got to work immediately, crouching over a loose floorboard and jamming nails into it to keep it in place. "So, how do you like it here? Still want Pops' head?"

"I don't think so," She heard Ace reply.

There was a short pause and Isabelle filled it up before it could get awkward "I'm shocked at how good you're at small talk,"

"Thanks. I know,"

"Say, what do you say about being the Second Division Commander?" Isabelle asked as casually as she could.

"Me?"

"No, your hat. Of course you," Isabelle snorted. "You're certainly more mature than me, despite being the same age. Well, enough to not let the crew die and Pops is pretty fond of you. I bet the crew will like it. The spot's been empty for a while now,"

"You guys barely know me," Ace said.

"We'd like to," Isabelle replied, hammering another nail. "Well, I'd like to,"

There was another long pause that made Isabelle wonder if she said something weird. His next words surprised her.

"Even if I said I was the devil's son?" Ace asked in a voice that made Isabelle pause.

"Do you...meet him often?"

"Fortunately, no,"

"Too bad. I would have liked it if you broke his nose. Boy, does he owe me an explanation," Isabelle put down the hammer and grazed the floorboards with her fingers. Letting the beryl crystalize into the gaps of the floorboards, she stuck the loose ones together. "But does it matter if you're the devil's son? You're not him."

"Say that to the world," Ace let out a short, bitter laugh. Isabelle crawled over to poke her head out from behind the cupboard to look at Ace. He was polishing his dagger and didn't notice Isabelle watching him.

"Screw the world," Isabelle said quietly and Ace looked up as if he forgot she was there. "That's what Pops taught me anyways. The secret to inner peace is four words: 'Not our fucking problem' Who cares what the world thinks? You're in good hands now."

Ace had a strange look on his face, one that quickly changed into one that was considering what the hell she was.

"Alright, that's enough real-talk for today. Change the subject," Isabelle shuffled over to her toolbox. She wondered for a second if Marco would get mad if she coated the whole floor with Beryl. No floorboards, no problem.

"Did you know Dolphins can't drink sea water? It'll make them sick. They get their water through the food they eat," Ace said.

"And why do I need to know that?" Isabelle asked, amused.

"You said to change the subject," Ace replied with what Isabelle imagined was a straight face.

Now Isabelle laughed, shaking her head. "You're a mess, Ace,"

"I had no clue," A smile was visible in his voice.