The wooden planks of Fishtown Pier creaked under the morning sun. Ace lay on his back, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky, his shirt still damp and half-torn from yesterday's seagull ambush. Beside him, Lale meticulously sorted through Granny's questionable spices—some looked normal, others were definitely poisonous.
"Y'know," Ace mused, tossing a pebble into the water, "for someone who complains constantly, you still haven't ditched me yet."
Lale didn't look up. "I'm compiling a list of your crimes for when I do leave. It'll be a legal document. Very thorough."
Ace grinned. "Bet 'stole my heart' isn't on there."
The spice jar slipped from Lale's fingers. Her Sharingan flared on instinct—catching it mid-air—but her cheeks burned hotter than Ace's flames. "Yox," she muttered in Azerbaijani. "Absolutely not."
Ace leaned closer, undeterred. "What's that mean?"
"It means shut up."
He laughed, loud and bright, and Lale's scowl wavered. Damn him.
A sudden commotion erupted at the end of the dock. A barrel rolled violently toward them, nearly crushing Ace's toes. A frantic merchant yelled, "World Government shipment! Clear the way!"
Lale's blood turned to ice.
She recognized the dove emblem stamped on the crates.
Ace, ever oblivious, poked one. "Snacks?"
"No," Lale hissed, yanking him behind a fish stall. "Those are trackers. If they scan the island—"
"Then we run," Ace said, his grin sharpening. "Or fight."
Lale groaned. "Why are those your only settings?"
Chaos erupted—seagulls dive-bombed the crates, sending the merchant into a screaming panic. Ace whooped. "See? Nature's on our side!"
Lale grabbed his wrist. "We need to go. Now."
His fingers laced with hers. "Race you to the next island?"
Her heart hammered. "Idiot," she muttered, but she was already running, his laughter chasing her like the tide.
They stole a small fishing boat and sailed into the night. The sea was calm, the sky a blanket of stars. Ace lounged against the bow, arms behind his head, while Lale kept watch, her eyes scanning the dark waters.
"Hey," Ace said softly.
"What?"
"That Yox thing you said earlier… Does it really mean shut up?"
Lale hesitated. Then sighed. "No."
Ace sat up, intrigued. "Then what?"
She looked away. "It means no."
A beat of silence. Then Ace smiled—not his usual boisterous grin, but something quieter, knowing.
"So," he murmured, "did you steal my heart or not?"
Lale scowled. "You don't have a heart. It's made of fire."
"But you can touch it," Ace said, reaching out. "See?"
His fingertips brushed hers—she felt the heat. No burn.
Lale's breath hitched.
And then, from the distance, a Sea King roared.
Ace shot to his feet. "NOW IT'S FIGHT TIME!"
Lale facepalmed. "God, give me strength…"
But she was smiling.
To be continued...
Chapter 9:Emperors & Odd Eyed
The Sea King's roar shook the ocean, sending fish flying like tossed coins. Ace cracked his knuckles, flames dancing up his arms—
—when a ship cut the beast in half with a single sword stroke.
Lale's strange red eyes barely caught the blur of movement before a tsunami of blood and seawater nearly capsized their boat.
"Now that's an entrance!" laughed a voice like well-aged rum.
Above them loomed the Red Force, its crimson sails swallowing the horizon. At the railing leaned a man with one arm and a grin that could calm storms.
"Shanks!" Ace gasped, his fire flickering out in shock.
The Emperor raised his sake bottle. "If it isn't the firecracker who keeps blowing up Marine bases! And..." His lone eye locked onto Lale. "You've got the most interesting eyes I've seen outside the Grand Line."
Lale instinctively touched her face. Her eyes—the ones village elders called "cursed", the reason she'd learned to keep her bangs long.
The pirate ship's galley smelled of roasted meat and chaos. Ace was already arm-wrestling three men at once while stealing food off their plates.
"Your boy's got spirit," Shanks chuckled, sliding a drink toward Lale. "But he's gonna get you both killed before you hit the New World."
Lale eyed the sake like it might poison her. "Tell me something I don't know."
Shanks' laugh shook the table. "I like you, Odd-Eyes. Here." He tossed Ace a dented Eternal Pose. "Go meet Whitebeard. If you survive that old monster, you might just survive anything."
Ace's grin could've powered a ship. "Challenge accepted!"
Lale groaned into her hands.
Two weeks later, their patched-up sloop drifted into waters guarded by ships larger than islands.
Lale counted twelve allied vessels before the Moby Dick appeared, its whale figurehead grinning like death itself.
Ace vibrated with excitement. "I'm gonna challenge him right now—"
Lale's sandal met his ribs. "We. Ask. Nicely."
A shadow fell over them.
"GUARARARA! What's this? Lost guppies?"
Lale looked up. And up. And up.
Edward Newgate towered above them, his mustache alone wider than their mast.
Ace erupted in flames. "WHITEBEARD! I CHALLEN—"
Lale's elbow connected with his solar plexus. "We seek work!" she shouted over Ace's wheezing.
Whitebeard's grin widened. "Odd-Eyed girl's got sense. The fireboy's got... enthusiasm." He rubbed his chin. "Marco! They're your problem now!"
A blonde man with pineapple hair sighed. "Great. More kids."
That evening, Lale found Marco studying her over a medical textbook.
"Those eyes," he said bluntly. "They change shape when you use them, don't they?"
Lale's hand flew to her face.
"Relax, I'm a doctor—seen weirder." Marco tossed her an orange. "But Whitebeard's no Marine. Here? Different eyes just mean you're family."
Ace chose that moment to crash through the wall, on fire. "LALE! I FOUND A—" He spotted Marco. "Oh hey Pineapple! Wanna arm wrestle?"
Lale considered throwing the orange at his head.
Marco just sighed. "Yep. Definitely family."
To be continued...