Author's note (10/11/2016): Welcome here, you bold reader! I'm totally scared by what I'm about to do, meaning publishing this text, because long story short I'm French. And it's the first time I'm writing fanfiction in English, not mentioning writing on One Piece. My apologies about the mistakes you might find while reading.
Sparks will be a one-shot's collection by the way. Mainly focusing on the Whitebeard's pirates and including some OCs because I wanted/needed to. Each OS will have its own referenced soundtrack because I need music while writing, and like it when writers share theirs.
For Getting old I listened to Lily Hickman Waldon's Awake.
I'll stop talking now, and I'll meet you down the page. Hope you'll enjoy it just as much as I loved writing it!
Thank you Corail Chérie for being such a kind proofreader.
Sparks – Getting old
It was quite a quiet night on the Moby Dick. After an usual little party, all of his drunk brothers had fallen asleep except for the poor fellow on night watch in the highest of their crow's nests. Even Ace and his not-so-well-hidden regular insomnia seemed to have vanished somewhere else on the ship. And there he was, leaning against the railing, his softly smoking kiseru in his hands, spacing out into the starry darkness. Izo wasn't really the kind of man to worry about the future. He had found what he wasn't looking for years ago and was quite happy with this family and their way of living. But a part of him knew that all this wasn't meant to last forever. He let out a sigh and gulped the rest of his cup of sake. What was the point torturing himself with all of this now eh?
A door opened not far from him and he heard a relieved yawn followed by some lazy footsteps. Marco was still stretching when he came to his brother's side.
"Izo? Still awake? What about your beauty sleep yoi?" The flat tone didn't even surprise him. He has been such a pain about his needed hours of rest that now everybody knew how much sleep mattered to him.
"I'll catch it up another day I guess," he chuckled, still looking at the sea. "Makeup really makes wonder anyhow... Did all this insane paperwork hold you hostage until now?"
"Yeah, but it's finally over, well, until next week. Ah... Sometimes I don't get it. Why do I even have to keep a record on the number of tow— Nevermind..." He frowned, looking at the slightly shaking hands of his brother, changing the tobacco in his pipe before lighting it. "What's bothering you yoi?"
"It's no big deal," Izo replied after taking a long puff. "Feeling old and stuff..."
"Feeling old? C'mon, we're in our brightest days ! You'll have the right to worry when you'll be older than Pops, not 'til then yoi." The first mate tittered, trying to cheer his friend up.
"But I do worry." He faced his brother. "Since Ace joined us something has changed. I don't blame him, he's such a nice kid... Still, he's so young that it has reminded me of my own age and the crew's. And I can't help but wonder what will happen in five or ten years."
"I get it, Izo. But Pops is well. And even if the medical staff is discreet, Jill and the nurses are really cautious. I'm here too. Our father is fine," he said, instilling truth in each of his words.
"Thanks Marco." The cross-dresser smiled. "I know he is. You just have to look how he has beaten the shit out of our hothead while sleeping."
They both laughed, remembering the look on Thatch's face when he understood that he had to go and fish a drowning Ace out of the sea. Marco turned his back to the soothing waves and looked at the deserted deck, noticing some remaining bottles. He left to fetch the fuller ones and came back to Izo, sitting down against the railing with a determined sigh.
Somehow, he knew it wasn't over. His brother was the kind of man to only tell you a smallest part of his concern. He needed time to sort it all out in his head first, before even considering entrusting his inner struggle to someone. And now was the time for him to ease his mind, even if he wasn't aware of it yet.
"Want some?" Marco asked, pouring rum in a borrowed tankard.
"Sure do." He gave the Phoenix his cup before joining him on the wooden floor, his elbow resting on his right knee. He absentmindedly smoothed out some invisible lines on his grey yukata. Their father's emblem had been sewn along the length of his collar.
"All right. Spit it out," said his brother, handing him the now filled cup.
"No... You don't have to worry about my annoying existential crisis. It'll fade away just like it has come," he answered, waving his hand.
"Izo..." The look in Marco's eyes wasn't his usual half bored half annoyed one. He was glaring at him seriously. The dark haired man glanced back to his hands, playing with the alcohol in his cup before letting out a sigh.
"I won't survive him. I don't want to."
The first commander straightened up, startled. "But..."
"No. I've made up my mind. Oyaji is in his early seventies and I'm glad for it. We're so lucky is still with us... But I'm in my late thirties and I'll turn forty in the blink of an eye. Getting old, well, that's not what I want, that's not why I was raised for."
"I don't understand."
"I wasn't expecting you to." He smiled softly, taking a sip of rum. "You know a bit about my life before joining the crew. Born in Wa, the last of my siblings. My mother wanted a girl and raised me like one. I've always been told that my beauty and my good manners were all I had, all I would ever need. They've proven quite useful even years after I fled but... I was up to every beauty standards in Wa and yet I was a nobody. A man dressing like a woman, such a shame for a recognized warrior family like mine. However, my beauty was my pride, and still is. I love the way I look. I love the man all of you made me become."
"What's the problem then?"
"There's none! I just want to die while I'm still young and handsome. That's all."
"But..." Marco wasn't getting it.
"Look, I love my life with all of you. I couldn't have hoped for anything better really! But knowing that one day, we'll be on our own, without Oyaji, and that time will still fly by, disfiguring me, making me old and wrinkled, it's just making me want to jump overboard."
"When?"
"When?" Izo repeated, uncertain.
"When will you kill yourself? So I can plan your funerals." Marco's fists clenched in anger as a sad smile stretched Izo's lips. "Ah... See... I shouldn't have told you."
"Yeah, that way you could have disappeared from day to day."
"Marco, that's not—"
"That's not what you said? C'mon, just admit it. Just admit how selfish, how vain, how self-important you think you are!" He was shouting at Izo, the man still smiling, a provoking and amused glimpse in his eyes. "I thought you'll stay more collected as the first mate."
"I'm not the first mate here. I'm your brother and we're talking about your death for God's sake!"
"I know, I know. Please calm down. Take a sip of rum... There... Now listen. I'm vain and selfish, that's true. But I'm not going to disappear from day to day. I was just telling you that what I fear the most, except losing Oyaji or one of you, was to get old. To let time disfigure me without doing anything. I can't stand it. I know you don't care about the way I look, but for me it matters. 'Cause my handsomeness is a major element of my life. Thanks to it I was able to survive in this dark and cruel world. I was able to survive until I found you all. So I can't toss it back like it was nothing. I just can't."
"Stop frowning that much, then," Marco said harshly before calming down. Izo's mouth dropped in astonishment. "Touché!" he chuckled. "Do you get it now?"
"I think I do."
"As long as Oyaji's alive, you don't have to fear anything. Well, even if he... Ah... I don't know." He ran his hands through his hair, bringing chaos to his previously perfect bun. "It's just how I'm feeling now. I was thinking about my life, about our father getting old too, about life here being way too joyful to be true and last forever and... I don't know... I got scared. Sorry."
"It's okay, Izo. I'm glad you told me what was on your mind, yoi. That's also what we're here for. Not only fighting, partying and drinking, but also listening when there's something wrong. Right?"
"Yeah, got it. Thanks."
"Yet, next time you talk about your own death so insensitively, I'll kick your ass off to the moon and back. And you perfectly know I can with those phoenix wings I have," he added, a hint of entertainment in his dark eyes.
"I've never been to the moon! I'll look forward to it then," the cross-dresser laughed, taking another bottle of rum.
And all of a sudden, life seemed as bright as before. Death didn't really matter anymore. He was there, with one of his many brothers, one of his closest friends, enjoying that starry summer night. There was just a little dark stain in the idyllic picture.
"Can you—"
"Keep this for myself? Of course I can. And I will. Unless all of this clouds your judgment as a commander or worries me too much. If it comes to that, I'll tell Pops and we'll figure a way to get some common sense into that thick skull of yours."
"Deal!" His painted lips stretched with a grin, reassurance relaxing his delicate features.
They were basking in the quiet night when the door opened again, revealing a disheveled and sleepy Thatch. Wrapped up in a duvet, he came closer to the two commanders, staring at him wide-eyed, a grumpy look on his face.
"Thatch... Your... Your hair!" Izo gasped, trying hard not to laugh.
"Yeah. I know. Welcome back to the real world," he grumbled, running a hand through his uncombed haircut, somehow making it worse.
"What happened Thatch? A nightmare? Did you dream about being chased by flying potatoes again?" Marco grinned.
"Believe it or not, I would have preferred that," their Chef growled, noticing the bottles of rum and taking a swig from one of them.
"Oh, c'mon! Cut the suspense Thatch! What happened?" When it came to their Chef, Izo wasn't really known for his patience. Marco chuckled, feeling the general mood lighten. Thatch's stories were always entertaining, even if most of the time they were only making fun of his own misfortunes.
"Ah! When I went to bed, passably drunk might I add, everything was normal. I was having a well-deserved good night's sleep in our dormitory and then I'm jolted awake by some barbaric snoring!" He groaned, scratching at his goatee. "So now there's only one thing I want to know, Marco. When will Jozu get back to wherever the hell his ship is?"
They both laughed at the angry tone of their brother. Poor Thatch. Being a light sleeper really wasn't an advantage in such a big and rowdy crew.
"He said they were leaving tomorrow," a deep voice said from the higher deck.
"Thank goodness!" yelled the fourth commander, adjusting his duvet while sitting cross-legged, facing his friends.
The newcomer, who was none other than Ace, walked down the stairs with an incredible agility considering the late hour and stopped by the noisy men. "Seriously guys, don't you have enough time to talk and laugh during the day?"
"Obviously not!" Izo grinned. "Did we wake you up?"
"Nah, I was just resting on Moby's bow, enjoying the stars... and that bloody welcomed silence." The young man perched himself on the railing and pushed back his head to look at the glowing sky, his orange hat hanging down in his back.
"Was your crew a quiet one?" Marco wondered.
"The Spades? Hell no! Always ready to party. Just look how well they fit in with your crew!" A foregone conclusion really...
"Guess you have a point, they're never the last to join us for a drink. By the way, what about you Ace? You alright? I thought you were already sleeping," the cross-dresser said.
"You know what they say. I'll get all the sleep I need when I'll be dead!" he smiled before seeing the discontented look of his older brothers. "Which will not happen before a looong looooong time, I swear!" he carried on before looking back at the sky. "Ah, it doesn't matter... I enjoy that atmosphere too much to deprive me of it anyway."
"That atmosphere?" Thatch asked, a bit lost.
"Yeah, that quiet mood. At night time seems to go by slowly. Everyone's sleeping. You can hear the waves crashing against the ship and the wind filling the sails and the wood lightly creaking. Not mentioning that amazing sky. The day life on board is cool, but at night... I don't know... You really can believe that you're alone sailing deeper and deeper into the New World. And even so, you know you're not all by yourself and that's great! It's like another life, showing you just how free you are," the teenager finally concluded, widely grinning to his elder brothers. They nodded.
"How can you use so many words at such a late hour?" Thatch scoffed, weary, before smiling softly. "I understand though." He yawned, followed by Marco and Ace, making Izo laugh. "Ace, those two are already beyond saving," he pointed his brothers out, "but if you stay awake too long, you'll have permanent dark-ringed eyes before you realise it, believe me!"
"And you'll have to borrow Izo's makeup to conceal it!" Thatch added a cheerful grin on his face.
"Like I'll lend it to him!" Izo said, outraged. "Ew, I'll go get some sleep then!" The young man chuckled as he jumped off the railing and walked back to the door, waving goodnight to his nakama.
Once he was gone, the silence fell over the three of them. Thatch fought off the sleep while Marco seemed lost in his thoughts. "He's so cute," Izo whispered, speaking of their youngest brother.
"Yeah, like a lone wolf cub," Thatch said, his voice slightly muffled. Izo chuckled at the comparison. "I'm glad he's with us. It seems so right. Like we were missing something before he was there! Isn't it insane?"
"What's insane is the amount of food he can stuff down!" the Chef retorted. "But, yeah, you're right. He's starting to fit just fine. That's great. And geez, have you seen that dazzling smile?"
"Yes, too much happiness in just one human being! Good to see though, he seems so withdrawn sometimes. What do you think Marco?"
The first commander got to his feet and let out a deep sigh. "He's finally part of our family. That's a big thing for him, but he'll come around. Yet, as Commanders and older brothers, we'll have to be careful. You've seen it. As happy-go-lucky and sunny as he seems, he also have his own insecurities, his own shadows. And his youth won't help him..."
"Don't worry Marco, we'll keep an eye on him, like we always did for each and every one of us," Thatch said, standing up in turn, a sleepy yet assured smile stretching his lips. "I'm not worried, well not that much," Marco said flatly as Izo rose. "Yeah, yeah, don't try and put on airs, firebird," the Fourth Division Commander teased.
"Tch. Let's sleep on it, yoi. We deserve some rest, anyway."
"But Thatch's right. We'll look after him. That's also why brothers are here for, right?" Izo winked at Marco while following him to the door.
The three men disappeared in the depths of the ship and the Moby Dick's deck found peace again, only troubled by the wind, the waves and a quiet snoring from the crow's nest.
Still there? So, how was it? As I said earlier, feel free to tell me!
I'm still in the middle of writing the next one-shot so I'm counting on your patience.
See you around,
Lily.
Edit (01/11/18) : Minor correcting
Edit (22/08/19) : Rewriting the author's note, adding a few details and correcting once more, to ease my self-consciousness regarding this first one-shot ever.