"Hahahaha… You're getting old, Garp-san. Maybe it's time to hang up that justice coat before someone finally breaks the unbreakable legend," I laughed, mouth full as I tore into another massive hunk of roasted Sea King meat. The fire crackled beside us, the scent of smoked flesh wafting across the coast.
Across from me, Garp grunted, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. "You cocky brat…" he muttered, grimacing as he tried to force down one more bite of meat—his second full Sea King already half-eaten. "You trying to humiliate me in front of my grandkids, huh!?"
I chuckled. "You proposed this little contest, old man. Don't cry just because you can't keep up anymore."
Bogard stood silently nearby, arms crossed, looking more like a weary guardian than the trusted right hand of a Marine hero. He shook his head with a sigh. "All this over pride… The Hero of the Marines, reduced to a food duel."
Garp growled and clenched his fist, gritting his teeth. "I can still beat your sorry ass, brat."
"Sure," I said, tossing a massive bone aside. "But not today. Not after three Sea Kings. Even your 'Life Return' can't burn through that many calories in one sitting."
Garp burped and leaned back, face flushed from exertion. "Dammit…"
A quiet breeze rolled in from the sea, carrying the laughter of children. Down the shore, little Luffy, Kuina, Zoro, and Sabo chased each other along the surf, squealing in joy as they tried to avoid the lapping waves.
My eyes lingered on them, and then drifted to a quieter figure nearby—Ace, seated on a rock, staring into the horizon, silent and still. I turned slightly and dropped a question that had long lingered in my thoughts. "Garp-san… Has Dragon-san ever told you about Luffy's mother?"
The question struck like lightning. Garp choked mid-bite, pounding his chest with a clenched fist.
"Cough—! You… cough… you bastard—! Why bring that up now?! That damned son of mine never told me a thing! Just dropped Luffy in my lap and vanished! Ungrateful brat!" His voice was rising again, fueled more by emotion than meat.
He looked toward Luffy playing in the distance, a softness creeping into his eyes before he scoffed, "One day, Luffy'll become a Marine, and he'll be the one to drag Dragon's ass back to justice!"
I let the words hang for a moment before I asked, almost lazily, "What if Luffy becomes a pirate like me, Garp-san? What then?"
He snorted, slamming his fist into the ground with a thud. "Then I'll break every bone in your body for leading him astray!" he roared—but his laugh followed soon after, hearty and booming. "He'll be the greatest Marine the world's ever seen. Just you wait!"
"Pirates are scum. All of 'em," Garp added, shaking his head. "And that includes you, brat." I leaned back, smiling wryly. Some things never changed. That's when Ace's small voice broke the moment.
"Jiji…" he said softly, almost hesitantly. "Do you… do you think I can become a Marine like you?"
Everything stilled.
Even Garp, whose larger-than-life presence could drown out the sea itself, paused in silence. Bogard turned and, sensing the weight of the moment, quietly stepped away toward the beach, leaving the boy and his grandfather in a bubble of time carved out just for them.
Garp's gaze lowered slowly. His fists unclenched. The old man, feared by pirates across the world, suddenly looked vulnerable.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he asked, voice quieter, "Why, Ace? Why do you want to be a Marine?" Ace's small hands curled into fists on his knees. His voice trembled—not with fear, but conviction.
"I… I want to wash away the stain that my father left behind," he said. "He started the Great Pirate Era. Because of him… people died. Families were broken. Even if he didn't mean to… his words, his treasure, they changed everything."
Ace's eyes burned as he continued, barely five years old, but already carrying the weight of a lifetime. "I want to end the age of pirates. I want to fix what he did. Even if I can't erase it all… maybe I can stop others from suffering because of him."
Garp stared at the boy, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. This wasn't the blind idealism of a child. This was the pain of a young soul trying to forge a path through a legacy too heavy for his shoulders.
"How old are you again?" I asked quietly, almost to myself. I couldn't believe it. The fire in his eyes… the way his voice didn't waver. What kind of burden must have been placed on that tiny heart for it to speak with such resolve?
Rouge-san… What were you thinking?
Garp finally spoke. "Ace… listen carefully." The boy looked up, eyes wide.
"The world will always talk. They'll curse your name. They'll judge you for your blood. But that's their truth—not yours."
Garp's voice softened, something raw glinting in his eyes. "The only thing that matters is what you believe. What you choose to do. And remember… everyone's a villain in someone's story."
Ace looked down, lips quivering. He nodded slowly.
I let out a sigh. "If this is truly the path you want, Ace… then walk it. Just don't lose yourself along the way."
He looked up at me, confusion flashing across his young face. "But… you're a pirate. Why would you say that?"
I gave a faint smile, looking toward the horizon. "Because I've seen what this world does to people who carry burdens not their own."
Garp stood then, walking over to Ace and placing a heavy hand on his small shoulder. "Marine, pirate, it doesn't matter, boy… as long as you live with pride and die without regret. But if you do become a Marine, you better become the best one there is. Or I'll throw you in the sea myself."
That earned a small smile from Ace.
Down the shore, Luffy let out a scream as a wave finally caught him, soaking his pants. Sabo and the rest burst into laughter. Bogard stood behind them, hands in his pockets, quietly watching.
"Brother Ross," Ace said quietly, his voice laced with honest curiosity and the hesitant wonder of a boy still trying to understand the world. "Why does someone want to be a pirate…?"
He looked at me with those wide, sharp eyes that already mirrored a hardened soul behind youthful innocence. "With how strong you are… if you'd been a Marine—like Jiji—couldn't you have changed everything? Couldn't you have saved more people?"
His gaze flicked toward Garp, who stood nearby with arms crossed, feigning disinterest but clearly listening. "Even Jiji says that someday you'd surpass him." I turned slowly, arching a brow toward the old Marine hero. "Oh? So the old man finally admitted it?" I smirked.
Garp snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't get cocky. It was a hypothetical."
I chuckled and turned my attention back to Ace. The wind rustled through the coastal grass, waves lapping at the shore behind us. Luffy's laughter echoed distantly, and Sabo shouted in delight as they chased each other barefoot across the wet sand.
"Ace," I said gently, "before I answer your question, let me ask you something in return." He blinked, then nodded slowly. "What does the word 'pirate' mean to you?"
Ace bit his lip, clearly wrestling with the question. His gaze drifted toward Garp again, who stubbornly refused to meet his eyes and scratched the back of his head instead.
"A pirate is…" Ace started, his voice low. "They're evil." The word tasted bitter, even to him.
"Jiji said pirates kill without remorse. They plunder villages, steal from the weak, destroy lives for treasure, and laugh while doing it. He said they have no honor—no laws—and that all they care about is gold, power, and themselves. That they're just monsters in human skin."
I nodded slowly, letting his words hang in the salty sea air. "That's what he told you?" I asked.
Ace nodded again. "And do you believe him?" Ace hesitated.
Then, to Garp's visible annoyance, he shook his head. "No… Not really." I couldn't help but laugh, and Garp clicked his tongue loudly. "You really tried hard, didn't you, old man?" I grinned.
"He's too stubborn for his own good," Garp muttered. "I gave him facts."
I turned back to Ace, my smile fading into something more serious.
"You see, Ace," I said, rising and walking toward the edge of the forest that overlooked the ocean, "what your grandfather said isn't wrong. There are pirates like that. The world's full of them. Men who fly the flag just to justify their greed, their lust for destruction, their thirst for blood. And the World Government loves those kinds of pirates."
Ace looked confused. "Why?"
"Because," I said, eyes fixed on the horizon, "they help keep the narrative simple. If all pirates are monsters, then anyone who opposes the World Government must be evil. It lets them play the hero." I turned back to him, kneeling so I was eye level with the boy.
"But pirates… real pirates… the kind who dream of freedom, of adventure, of a place to belong—they're not monsters. They're just people the world couldn't control. Some are dreamers. Some are survivors. Some are outcasts. And yes… some are dangerous." I pointed at myself.
"I chose this path not because I wanted wealth or power. If that was all I wanted, I could've taken any throne the sea had to offer. I became a pirate because I wanted to be free, to keep a promise. Free to choose my own destiny. Free to protect those I love without asking permission. Free to sail into the unknown and write my own story."
Ace's eyes widened. The boy—haunted by a legacy he never asked for—was listening with his whole heart.
"There are pirates who search for the end of the world, not for treasure, but for truth. There are pirates who build ships to carry orphans to safe shores, and those who fight the tyrants the Marines can't—or won't—touch. There are pirates who liberate islands enslaved by nobles, who tear down the flags of false gods…"
My voice softened.
"And there are pirates who simply want to live in a world where they aren't hated for their name."
Ace looked down at his hands.
I saw it—the trembling in his shoulders. The pain buried deep inside. The shame he carried for a father he never met, whose legacy was forced upon him like a curse.
"Not all pirates are good, Ace," I admitted. "But not all Marines are either. Justice isn't a uniform or a bounty. It's in your heart. The moment you give someone else the right to define it for you… that's when you lose yourself."
Behind us, Garp didn't speak. But he wasn't smiling either. He looked at me—not with anger, but with quiet respect. Because he knew I was right.
He, too, had seen Marines burn innocent villages for the sake of 'order.' He'd seen Celestial Dragons use slaves and still be protected. He'd seen pirates rise up to become heroes… and heroes fall into the darkness. There were no absolutes in this world. Only choices.
"If you want to change the world, Ace," I said. "And your own destiny, you must realize that one can't do it from inside a cage—even if that cage had a Marine coat hanging on the wall." Ace wiped his eye, as if sand had gotten in it.
"Does that mean I was wrong to want to be a Marine…?" he asked. I smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"No, Ace. It means you were brave enough to want to be something better. And that's all that matters." He nodded slowly, his young face scrunching in thought. Garp finally spoke, his voice gravelly.
"…Pirates like that are rare," he said gruffly. "Most are scum. But…" He sighed. "But unfortunately he's not wrong, Ace." I raised a brow. "Did I just hear the Hero of the Marines admit I was right?"
"Don't push it," Garp grunted.
"Have you ever wondered why a pirate like me—someone with a bounty that would make Marine Admirals sweat—spends his time casually with a man feared across the Grand Line as the Marine Hero?" I asked, my voice low and calm, yet carrying the weight of decades of storms and betrayals.
Ace blinked, caught off guard by the question. He tilted his head, brows furrowing in thought.
Why? he wondered. Why was Brother Ross, of all people, always near the Marines? Weren't pirates and Marines supposed to be enemies—opposites—like fire and ice?
He stayed quiet, but I saw the answer forming behind his wide, questioning eyes.
"I was once a Marine too, you know." I smiled as I said it, but that smile was tinged with old sorrow.
Behind me, Garp let out a familiar grumble. The sound was not one of denial, but regret—deep, bitter regret. His jaw clenched. His eyes turned toward the sea, haunted by memories from a time long buried, yet never forgotten.
"You… a Marine…?" Ace gasped, startled. Garp had told him once, in passing, that I was his former student. But the young boy had always assumed I was a pirate from the start—born into it, forged in it, never part of them. Now that illusion was shattered.
And the silence that followed was heavy—like the calm before a storm. Ace couldn't help but think to himself, did Brother Ross betray Jiji and become a pirate…?
"No," I said gently, eyes locked with Ace's. "It wasn't me… who betrayed the Marines, Ace. It was the other way around." Ace's inner thoughts were crystal clear to me. I turned toward Garp, who stood like a statue, the flower-patterned floral shirt draped over his shoulders fluttering in the breeze.
"Isn't that right, Garp-san?"
The old man's face contorted slightly, not in anger, but in pain. The truth tasted bitter even after all these years. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. Because the events that led to me becoming a pirate were still clear in Garp's memory.
Ace sat there quietly, absorbing the weight of it all. He was still just a child, but one with eyes that saw deeper than most. His mind raced with questions, with wonder… and with a flicker of something greater: understanding.
I stepped forward towards the tree where my belongings were already packed and ready, reaching into the pack set to the side. Slowly, deliberately, I pulled out a small, ornate chest in front of him. It was old—carved from dark ironwood, etched with symbols of a figure long thought mythical, and sealed with a lock that pulsed faintly with Haki.
Ace stared at it, wide-eyed, curiosity pulling at him like gravity.
I knelt beside him. "Inside this box," I said, voice low, "is something very few will ever lay eyes upon in their lifetime. A gift... or a burden, depending on the heart of the one who accepts it."
Garp's brows rose. He stepped forward, hesitating only for a moment before lifting the small chest and opening its lid.
Inside, nestled in deep velvet, was a Devil Fruit unlike any he had seen before. Swirls of gold traced its crimson skin like ancient calligraphy. Its shape resembled a coiled flame, constantly shimmering with a faint inner light—as if something alive slumbered within.
Ace leaned forward, entranced, eyes wide with wonder. There was something about the chest—something ancient and calling. He couldn't explain it, not in words. Maybe it was just his imagination... or maybe it was the fruit reaching out to him, its will brushing against his own.
Behind us, further down the beach, Luffy trailed along in Bogard's grasp, a lazy snot bubble wobbling with every step. His eyes lit up the moment he spotted the ornate chest in Garp's hands.
"Oooooh Jiji…! Can I eat it?!" he blurted out with a grin, practically drooling. "Looks like one of those snack boxes at home!"
SLAM.
Garp snapped the lid shut with a sharp bang, moving faster than anyone expected.
"Keep that thing away from Luffy," I said, stifling a laugh. "We don't want to change the course of destiny now, do we? That fruit isn't meant for him."
No one understood the weight behind my words. Not yet. I turned back to Ace. The boy was still staring at the chest, lips slightly parted, reverence in his eyes. His small hands were clenched into fists—not out of greed, but out of instinct. Something inside him knew.
"When the time comes," I said softly, crouching beside him, "and only when you truly feel ready for the sea… then you'll make your choice. Until that day, I entrust it to your grandfather."
Garp's eyes flicked to me, sharp and unreadable. In them was a storm of old anger, quiet sorrow… and something deeper still: trust.
He knew I would never endanger Ace—not with this. He knew because he had been there for Roger at the end, and he knew that I was the last one Roger spoke to before he was executed. I was the one who carried his final wish. And Garp, as his oldest rival and closest friend, had understood.
"You hear me, Garp-san?" I said. "Train him. Teach him the strength of a fist… and the weight of a choice. If he does eat it one day, he mustn't lean on it like a crutch. The fruit must never define him—it must reflect his will."
A quiet voice spoke behind us.
"…What kind?" Bogard asked, his tone low, cautious as they reached near us.
He had just returned with Luffy still clinging to his arm. The other children stood nearby, silent now. Zoro and Kuina watched from the path, their packs already slung over their shoulders. They sensed the gravity in the air. Something important—something fated—was unfolding.
I didn't hesitate. "Mythical Zoan."
The words struck like lightning. Bogard stopped in his tracks. Even Garp's eyes widened for a fraction of a heartbeat—just enough to betray the shock behind them. Then his expression hardened. Wordlessly, he shut the chest again, this time securing the lock firmly. Not to hide it. To guard it.
"A forgotten power," I said, rising to my full height. "The soul of a god, lost to time. It doesn't just grant strength… it remembers. And I believe it has chosen him. I can't explain it, but I feel it—maybe it's the Voice of All Things… whispering through the tides of fate. Or maybe it's something older still."
The wind stirred. Leaves rustled. Even the ocean beyond the cliff seemed to pause, as if the world itself was listening.
I looked toward Zoro and Kuina, already preparing to depart. Our time on this island had run its course. If we lingered any longer, the World Government would come sniffing. And when they arrived… it wouldn't be a conversation. It would be war.
I turned back to Garp, my voice softer now.
"Take care of him, Garp san. Take care of them all." I paused. "The seas will test him. Fire will forge him. And someday… that fruit may awaken more than just power. It may awaken destiny itself."
Then I turned, my coat catching the wind as I walked down the path toward the pier. The sun was at my back, casting long shadows behind us. Zoro and Kuina followed without a word, waving quietly. Behind us, Luffy squirmed wildly in Bogard's grip, reaching out, not ready to say goodbye.
The children watched us go—some curious, some confused. But Ace… Ace just stood there, eyes locked on the chest, as if he could still hear the fruit breathing inside. The future was in motion. And destiny… had begun to stir.