Aria's Pov
Following Portgas D. Ace was not part of the five-year plan I had in my dorm back on earth. Then again, neither was being dragged into the world of One Piece, but here we are.
The thing about Ace was that he walked like he was trying to outpace destiny itself. Long strides, shoulders loose, not a single glance back at the girl he'd rescued from a tavern less than an hour ago. Meanwhile, I was half-jogging to keep up, sweat sticking my shirt to my back.
"Oi," he said without turning, his voice calm but carrying like the snap of a whip. "Stop following me."
I quickened my pace. "No can do."
He stopped. Just like that—stopped in the middle of the dirt road so suddenly I nearly face-planted into his back. He turned, broad chest filling the space, his eyes steady but not unkind. Up close, he was unfairly good-looking. Freckles scattered across sun-bronzed skin, a grin-shaped mouth that wasn't grinning now, and muscles that screamed yes, I can carry you and your baggage, literally and emotionally.
"Look," he said evenly, "I helped you because those guys were out of line. But that doesn't mean you can tag along. Go home."
I folded my arms, tilting my head like I was weighing his words. "I would love to. Truly. Except for the tiny problem that I don't have one."
His frown deepened.
"And," I added quickly, raising a finger, "those pirates? The ones that ran away? They're going to come looking for me the second You leave me. You think I'm safer on my own?"
That gave him pause. Not much, but enough that I shoved my foot in the door.
"I'm not asking for much," I went on, softer now, tilting my head to sell the picture of tragic damsel. "Just… let me walk with you for a while. At least until I'm out of this area."
His silence stretched long enough that a bird flitted across the road between us. Finally, he exhaled, long and tired, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're persistent."
"Thank you," I said, all sunshine.
"That wasn't—" He cut himself off, shook his head, and turned away. But he didn't tell me to leave again. He started walking, and that was good enough for me.
I hurried to catch up, the sound of my boots scuffing against his steady stride. For a while, we walked like that—him, silent as the grave, me, brimming with things I probably shouldn't say.
"So," I began, casual as I could manage, like this wasn't part of my master plan, "you got any siblings?"
That got him. His steps faltered just slightly, like I'd managed to lob a rock into his steady stream. He glanced at me sideways, cautious. "Why?"
I shrugged, putting on my best poker face. "Just curious. You've got that vibe, you know. Like an older brother. Protective. Bossy. Annoying."
For the first time, his lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough that my brain short-circuited for a second. Jackpot.
"…I do." His voice was quieter this time, like I'd nudged a door open.
I made my eyes wide, like this was the most fascinating news in the world instead of the exact info dump I'd been fishing for to use to my advantage. "Really? What's he like?"
Ace's expression softened. "He's… a handful. Carefree. Reckless. Eats more than I do."
I tilted my head, grinning. "Sounds like he'd get along with me."
That pulled a short laugh out of him, low and warm. I bit the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to fist-pump the air.
"His name's Luffy," Ace went on, a note of pride threading his tone. "He's aiming to be Pirate King."
I hummed as if this was brand-new information and not the exact plot of One Piece tattooed in my brain. "Pirate King, huh? I don't know why, but I feel like he's gonna pull it off."
At least I was sincere on that.
Ace actually slowed his stride for the first time since I'd met him. He looked at me, really looked, like he was trying to figure out how I could speak with that much certainty about someone I'd supposedly never met.
"You talk like you know him."
I forced a casual shrug. "I don't. Just… a feeling."
The skepticism was still there, sharp in his eyes, but he didn't press. Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "You're persistent."
"Thank you again."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Still taking it as one."
He muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch, then—miracle of miracles—his pace shifted slower. Just a little. Enough that I didn't have to half-sprint to keep up anymore.
I smiled to myself.
I was in.