The night air was cool, smelling of deep-sea brine and the faint, comforting scent of woodsmoke that always seemed to cling to Ace. Maye stepped onto the deck, her bare feet silent against the weathered planks. She spotted him immediately. He was sitting on the high railing of the hull, his back turned to her, staring out at the ink-black expanse of the New World. The moonlight caught the sharp lines of his shoulders and the proud, sprawling tattoo of the Whitebeard Jolly Roger, the mark she had seen in her dream, the mark she now knew she carried too. She stayed there for a minute, hidden in the shadows of the main mast, just... watching him. It felt strange, like she was a ghost observing a life she was finally allowed to haunt again. He looked so solitary, a flicker of orange fire in a world of blue and black. Stepping out of the darkness, she walked up behind him. She didn't say a word at first, just stood there until he sensed her presence. He didn't turn around, but the tension in his back eased. "Couldn't sleep?" she whispered, her voice barely louder than the lapping waves. "Yeah," Ace replied, his voice a low rumble. "Too quiet. I'm used to the sound of snoring and someone trying to steal my blankets." "Want to talk about it?" "I don't know." They lapsed into a long, comfortable stretch of silence. The stars above were brilliant, unblinking eyes watching their small ship crawl across the map. Maye felt a sudden, protective urge rise in her chest the same one that had made her throw herself in front of an Admiral, though she didn't quite remember the details of that yet. She took the shawl from her shoulders, the thin, knitted thing Dadan had given her and draped it over Ace's broad shoulders. She knew it was ridiculous; his body heat was a literal furnace, and the wool probably felt like a lukewarm breeze to him, but she tucked the edges around his neck anyway. "To keep you warm," she murmured. Ace let out a huff of a laugh, his hand reaching up to touch the fabric. "Maye... I'm made of fire." "Shut up," she smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Just pretend." He shifted, making room for her on the narrow ledge, and they sat there together, two shadows against the starlight. For a long time, the only sound was the rhythmic breathing of the ocean. Suddenly, from a pile of ropes a few feet away, a heavily intoxicated Rakuyo let out a loud, wet snort in his sleep. "No... Vista... the mustache... it's too pointy..." he mumbled, smacking his lips before falling back into a deep, rumbling snore.
A surprised, hushed giggle escaped Maye's throat. Beside her, Ace shook with silent laughter, burying his face in his hand to keep from waking the entire deck. "I forgot how loud this family is," Maye whispered once the giggles subsided. As the laughter faded, Ace turned his head toward her. They were so close that their noses brushed, the heat from his skin radiating against her cheeks. The air between them felt charged, heavy with the weight of everything they hadn't said yet. Maye's breath caught in her throat. She looked into his eyes, the dark, intense depths that held so much hidden pain and so much stubborn hope. Her gaze softened, the Fog in her mind parting just enough to let a single, golden ray of truth shine through. "I'm starting to remember," she whispered. The words slipped out before she could catch them, hanging in the air between them like a promise. Ace's expression froze. His hand, which had been resting on the railing, moved to her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a tenderness that made her heart ache. "What do you remember, Maye?" "The way you look when you're worried," she breathed, her hand finding the ruby pendant. "The way the Moby Dick felt under my feet. And... the way I felt when I thought I was leaving you behind." She didn't have the dates or the names of every island, but she had the weight of him. She remembered that he was the person she had chosen, over and over again, in every life and every death.