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Ace had never stopped to think about what the longed-for freedom he sought truly meant. For him, living a life free from his father’s cursed name was enough. But living and surviving were not synonyms.
He could barely remember a time when breathing on his own was a natural instinct of his body. The wind against his face, the pressure when his lungs expanded to take in the fresh sea air. Such a simple sensation that he had never thought he could miss it.
Breathing was the most basic action of the human body, something so small yet capable of sustaining all life — breathing was being free.
Life — the thought surfaced sometimes, always accompanied by a bitter taste on his tongue and the urge to punch something — could be petty and resentful when it wanted to be.
If he had spent more time living instead of questioning his existence with every new achievement, Ace might not be in this situation.
But what was the point of complaining now, when he had let every opportunity slip through his fingers without even fighting for it? When he had assumed he was not destined for good things simply because of who he was?
Consequences always came, whether good or bad. There was no running away forever — what would it have been like if he had listened to his captain? Listened to his brothers’ advice. If he had never set out on his journey of revenge against the traitor he once called brother?
What would it be like if he didn’t have to imagine his life without all the wrong choices?
“Open a little wider, Ace. For me.” The quiet voice came followed by a polished wooden spoon. Ace tried, his unfocused eyes finding the watery soup being offered to him. There was no rush, the seconds stretched on until he finally parted his cracked lips, the spoon almost hitting his teeth on the way to his throat. “That’s it, very good, brother.”
The man smiled, lips curling in relief and genuine joy, as if being able to eat was the greatest achievement — and maybe it was.
The spoon rested in the full bowl, the hand rose before him, knuckles bending to support his chin while a thumb slid beneath his lips, wiping away the traces of food that dripped down. Sabo, that was his younger brother, Sabo. Wasn’t Sabo dead?
The sound that leaves his lips is low and muffled, a sharp grunt of confusion while Sabo stares at him. The man’s eyes shine with clear tenderness, a soft chuckle before leaning forward, the old stool creaking beneath his weight.
“Can you eat a little more? You’re almost done.” He wasn’t, but neither of them comments on the lie. Ace knows his stomach will soon protest. Sabo is not naïve either.
Just over a year ago, Ace could have eaten from that bowl a hundred times and still had room for dessert. Now, the mere idea of finishing that single one makes him nauseous.
He manages two more spoonfuls before giving up, soup spilling from his lips when his jaw loses strength, his tongue no longer working as it should, limp instead of trying to keep the food inside his mouth.
Sabo does not let himself be shaken, a damp cloth appears quickly, experienced hands drying his chin and cheek without hesitation, his brows furrowing when a few drops run down to his chest. Ace closes his eyes, feels his cheeks burning with humiliation, the only thing keeping him from drowning in his thoughts are Sabo’s quiet murmurs when he says:
“You did well, Ace. You managed three more spoonfuls than yesterday. Don’t worry, we can make more soup later.”
It wasn’t the tiny goals his brothers made in an attempt to keep him present that irritated him. The problem wasn’t the soups either, he knew his brothers would make thousands of them if necessary — he had seen it happen. It was the care, the way they acted as if he would shatter with one wrong gesture, that was what made his body burn.
He follows Sabo’s fingers, watching while his brother cleans the splashes of soup that fell on his chest. Sabo’s hand freezes for a moment, just enough for Ace to notice, before returning to the task, tracing around the bandages patching the upper half of his body.
“Luffy will be here soon. We can change this and then take a walk on the beach. What do you think?”
What did he think? What did it matter what Ace thought? What was the point of choices when you depended on someone else to carry them out for you?
His lips part slightly, his tongue tries to wet the skin, preparing for the words that want to come out. But it doesn’t happen. Before he can say anything, his throat is closing, the passage of air abruptly cut off sends panic spreading through his mind.
His body’s first instinct is to cough, to expel whatever is killing him. The next thing he knows, everything is on fire — real flames, vivid red fire as his powers react in response to his panic.
“Breathe, Ace!”
The pain worsens with every new jolt of his body, his organs vibrating beneath his skin, screaming for someone to end that agony. He coughs. Coughs. Coughs. Coughs. His world is consumed by black spots, his head falling heavily against his chest making everything worse.
He barely hears the hurried footsteps before his head is carefully lifted, his nose forced upward toward the ceiling while a glass of water is pressed against his lips, hitting his teeth, forcing the remains of soup down his throat and spilling over his chin.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.”
A firm hand holds the back of his neck, rubbing steady circles against the vertebrae he still has left. He doesn’t know which of them is trembling more, he can barely see Sabo’s face through the tears flooding his eyes.
“Breathe, breathe, Ace. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Ace wants to laugh but the laugh gets stuck. If he could, Ace would hit his brother for being such an idiot. He couldn’t breathe anymore, that was the problem.
Despite his efforts, his hand does not move a single inch. The action does not go unnoticed by Sabo, blue eyes shifting from Ace’s face to stare at the hand, a smile of understanding appearing on his lips.
“I know. You probably really want to hit me right now.” A breathless sound is Ace’s only response. Trembling fingers wrap around the thin wrist while Sabo lifts Ace’s hand enough to hit his own face. “I want you to hit me too.” It comes as only a hidden whisper when he presses his lips in a weak kiss against the limp hand.
Ace can barely feel the tears against his skin, but he can see them rolling down his arm. A few months ago, his brothers tried to avoid letting him see any sign of the anguish they felt. When that changed, he learned the truth nobody wanted to say:
What was the point of continuing to pretend everything was fine when everyone knew Ace would not get better?
It takes enormous strength and concentration, but he finally manages to feel the tips of his fingers tingling in response to his effort. It isn’t much, a spasm that could be mistaken for any random tremor, a skill acquired through months of therapy, but that doesn’t stop him from touching his brother’s face.
The reaction is immediate. Without even opening his eyes, Sabo presses his damp cheek against Ace’s hand, the skin, reddened by the recent hit, rubbing lightly against his fingers like a needy cat desperate for the faint touch.
There is nothing Ace wants more than to wipe away those tears, but there is no strength left in his body. His hand loses all sensation after a few seconds, fully supported by Sabo when Ace sinks into the bed with a small tired sigh.
“Always the older brother.” Affection spills through the words. Blue eyes blink playfully at Ace before arranging the limp arm beside the bandaged chest. “Thank you.”
The comfortable silence that had begun to form was interrupted by the familiar sound of sandals hitting the floor. Sabo’s smile only confirmed what Ace already knew, it took only a few seconds before the front door was shoved against its hinges.
With his eyes closed, Ace lets his imagination guide him, instructed by every new sound. The images form behind his eyelids, he can almost see them.
Luffy entered humming a melody that had been shared many times among the three of them, hands occupied with grocery bags and the familiar hat over his hair. He closed the door with one foot, dropping the groceries onto the kitchen floor with a dramatic sound.
“Ace! Sabo! I’m back!” Ace felt his lips lift as much as they could, warmth spreading through his chest — the feeling of love replacing that of boiling magma. “Is everything okay?” The words left his lips the moment he entered the room, his eyes fixed on his brothers’ appearance.
“Welcome back, Luffy.” Sabo greeted him with an easy smile, straightening his posture to face the youngest. Ace opens his eyes slightly. “We’re okay. Ace gave me a little scare, that’s all.”
It was possible to see the exact moment Luffy processed his brother’s words. Ace had only a few seconds to shoot a betrayed look in Sabo’s direction before Luffy’s face blocked his vision.
“What happened? Are you okay? Sabo, is he okay? Do we need to call someone?” The anxious voice filled the room.
That was not the first time, and it would not be the last, but like every other time, Ace wished he could erase every trace of worry from those eyes. Luffy had always been free, but now he was chained to the heavy burden of caring for a dying brother.
At no moment was the desire to die stronger than when he saw the worry on his younger brothers’ faces, he was the oldest, Ace should never be seen like this by his little brothers.
“...F-fine…” It came out as a breath, the voice only an echo of what it used to be. Luffy heard it, close enough to feel the weak breath against his own cheeks, a huge smile appearing on his face.
They should not be so happy just because he was able to speak.
“That’s great! I got those fruits you like, and things for soup, and meat!” He listed excitedly, raising one finger for each item. “Sabo, can we eat meat!?” The distraction came easily, Luffy’s neck twisting unnaturally to look at Sabo with bright eager eyes.
“Of course, Lu.” The easy acceptance was met with an even bigger smile. “I was thinking about going to the beach with Ace. What do you think?” That makes Luffy’s nervous energy retreat, his eyes shifting from Sabo to Ace, Ace shivered while his brother searched his soul.
He decides after a few seconds, the easy smile and affectionate gleam in his eyes appearing when he finds what he was looking for.
“Yes! It’s been a while since we’ve seen the sea.”
It’s been a while since Ace has seen the sea.
The unspoken echo makes Ace shiver. He imagines the words would weigh tons on his shoulders if he were still able to feel them.
“First we need to redo the bandages.” Sabo decides, shooting an apologetic look toward Ace.
Those are the worst. Ace should be the one apologizing every second of every day he wakes up to take up space.
The first movements come easily. Ace lets them work, content to close his eyes and let his brothers move through the choreography rehearsed over months. Even behind his eyelids, he can see every movement as clearly as light.
He does not have the courage to look, but he still remembers the first time he was awake to see the extent of the damage, remembers the morbid curiosity — and the consequences of giving in to it.
Sabo always leads, gentle hands against his stiff shoulders forcing him into a seated position between the two of them. Leaning his body until he can see Ace’s back, Sabo unwraps Ace like a ball of yarn, stripping away the white layers until he finds pinkened skin.
With the same concentration he used to hunt insects in childhood, Luffy takes care of the sensitive skin of Ace’s chest, carefully avoiding the most sensitive area of the stitches that kept Ace’s organs in place.
Luffy should not have that kind of skill, it required a patience his clumsy little brother had never possessed — but Luffy learned, memorized the necessary pressure after making Ace scream in pain countless times.
The back is always more painful, the thin skin barely covering the bones, Sabo avoids the spine with practiced ease, whispering praise whenever Ace shivers. Ace is not sure he will ever ask Trafalgar Law where they came from or how he replaced half of Ace’s vertebrae. That should not have been possible without a miracle.
Maybe he could ask the name of every person who lost an organ so he could live. Maybe he could name each organ after them. Maybe the guilt would finally kill him.
His skin is soon covered in medicinal ointments, the cold pasty texture making Luffy let out an amused giggle, tracing a heart just above the scar, smiling at Ace before spreading it out. Then they wrap him up again, protecting his wounds beneath thick layers of bandages.
The weight of the bed changes, Luffy’s hands hold Ace’s shoulders to keep his body from toppling over. Ace opens his eyes in time to see Sabo returning with the wheelchair, shaking the cushion free of dust before fluffing it up and attaching an oxygen cylinder.
Sabo smiles when he notices he is being watched, small creases appearing at the corners of his eyes while Ace feels his cheeks heat up. He approaches, returning to his position behind Ace to steady him.
“We’re going to put you in the chair now, okay?” Ace’s grumble seems to be enough of an answer for Sabo.
One gesture is enough. In teamwork, Luffy settles himself and holds Ace’s legs with calloused hands while Sabo focuses on the upper part of his body.
“Three… two… one… go.” Ace holds his breath as best he can, his lips opening in a silent scream when the cracks of his spine echo in painful protest. Sabo and Luffy remain steady, holding Ace until he is sitting safely, as comfortably as possible.
“Here.” Luffy whispers, unfolding a plaid blanket to drape over Ace’s legs. Sabo fixes the oxygen beneath his nose. “Now we’re ready.” He steps closer to run a hand over Ace’s forehead, pushing the sweat back through black hair.
Ace pants, letting his brothers guide his chair through the room and outside the house. The path to the beach is not long, Ace imagines that is why they chose that place — besides the stares they would receive on a busier island.
They make the trip in silence, with Luffy a few steps ahead while Sabo pushes the chair, careful with rocks and holes along the path. His brothers are not quiet, never have been, but Ace noticed that after changing the bandages, they always became a little downcast.
One more reason to apologize. He would soon need a notebook for his list.
The sound of the waves drives away any thoughts. Ace’s eyes are easily drawn to the endless blue, the chair gliding across the sand without much difficulty, getting closer and closer until stopping at a safe distance from the water.
Luffy throws himself onto the ground with a dreamy sound, his eyes as fixed as Ace’s. Sabo quickly follows, locking the chair carefully before sitting on the opposite side of Luffy.
For a moment, that is all there is. The sound of the tides. The weak sun on his face. The comforting presence of his brothers. Ace lets his mind wander, a small smile weighing on his lips while memories of their adventures flood his skull like waves.
“S…Sorry…”
His whisper breaks the small moment of peace. It takes time, as if not even the sea could believe the words leaving Ace’s trembling lips. No one says anything for a long time, the sea receding, refusing, just like them, to acknowledge it.
Luffy is the first to break.
“For what, Ace?” His voice is low, muffled in a way it rarely is. Ace lifts his eyes to his brother’s face, choking when he realizes neither of them is looking at him. His cheeks burn with shame, his instincts screaming for him to stop.
“Burden… dying…” He manages to complete, lowering his eyes to his own lap when he sees Sabo jump to his feet, black coat fluttering in the wind, top hat rolling across the sand.
“You’re a hopeless idiot. What is it now? You think we’re unhappy and that you’re a burden?” Sabo laughs in disbelief, turning just in time to see Ace squeeze his eyes shut. “Of course you are, damn it.” He kicks the sand, rubbing his face harshly.
“I hate this,” Luffy starts when the silence returns, his face turned toward the sea, a soft smile on his lips even as his fingers scratch at the skin of his legs. “I hate changing your bandages. I hate giving you baths. I hate that you don’t answer like you used to.”
A sob escapes, Ace cries while his brothers stare at anything but his eyes.
“You are a burden, Ace. And I hate every second of it. Sabo hates it too.” Luffy does not move while speaking Ace’s greatest fears out loud, a smile still on his lips even while Ace trembles. “But don’t you think we’d hate bringing flowers to your grave even more?”
Luffy finally looks at him, a pair of wet black eyes waiting for the words to sink into Ace.
“...Selfish…” The word leaves a bitter taste on his lips. Sabo laughs in response.
“Fucking hypocrite…” It comes out as a resentful whisper. Ace would recoil if he could. “Don’t call us selfish when you can’t even accept that we love you.”
Ace should not cry, the effort makes his wounds burn, the small sobs forcing his lungs to work in a way his organs can no longer handle. His breathing falters, he tries to pull in air when a hand pushes the oxygen tube closer.
“S-sorry…”
“It’s okay. We didn’t expect a near-death experience to make you less stupid.”
Ace tries to take a deep breath. His lungs had not healed and the smell of the sea brought nothing but nostalgic memories, but for one second, Ace thinks he can truly breathe. For now, that would have to be enough.