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“Why are you like this,” Marco says amidst the flaming ruins that used to be a bar. He’s only thankful this is not a Whitebeard-affiliated island and that they can run away without consequences once all of their brothers are accounted for.
“Like what?” asks Ace, with complete sincerity, as if he hadn’t just burned down a whole building.
“Insane,” Marco answers. And then, because he wants to make sure Ace understands what he means. “Why are you insane like this, yoi?”
“I’m not?” says Ace, still looking confused. He pats soot off his pants and starts walking towards the harbor, not a care in the world. “I’m pretty normal for a pirate. There are some real weirdos out there on the seas.”
As if Marco doesn’t know that. As if he isn’t currently sailing on the same ship as a good number of them.
“Ace, you just burned down a bar because someone stole your meat, yoi.”
“Hey, that was some good meat!” Ace says, indignant. “And that’s a perfectly normal reaction. Dude’s lucky I didn't burn him.”
While Marco grapples with the horrifying realization that Ace finds death by immolation an appropriate answer for the high crime of stealing food, Ace shows absolutely no concern for his state of mind and continues walking back towards the ship.
“Ace, I say this with all the love I can muster,” Marco starts, after a pause, “but there’s something seriously wrong with your head.” That’s okay; Marco’s used to having insane brothers. Haruta’s been with them for years, and nothing can quite top that.
Thankfully, Ace doesn’t seem offended. “Wait ‘till you meet my brothers,” he says casually.
Marco’s brain screeches and comes to a halt. “There’s more of you?!”
Ace pouts. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
Marco looks at the plume of smoke still faintly visible behind them. He feels like this should be fairly obvious.
Ace follows his line of sight. “Okay, fair,” he allows, raking a hand through his hair. “But let me tell you, I’m the normal one. At least I’m polite. I guess Sabo’s polite too, but he’s a little shit, so it doesn’t count,” says the little shit without an ounce of self-awareness. “And Luffy is…”
He trails off, and Marco is too impatient for this. “He’s what?”
Ace shrugs. “He’s Luffy. There’s really no describing him.”
Marco nods, a bit bewildered. He’s going to have to take Ace’s word for it.
“Where are they now?” Marco asks. “Will we get to meet them?” Which is just a polite way of asking ‘Will I have to deal with Pops trying to adopt them?’ Somehow, Marco is getting a feeling that Ace and his brothers in the same place might be a bit too destructive for Moby Dick to handle. (The smoke is still visible behind them over the cover of the trees. And Ace says he’s the sane one.)
“I mean, probably. Sabo has already set sail, and Luffy’s gonna do it too in a couple of years. He’s going to be a great pirate.” There’s visible pride on Ace’s face as he talks about his brothers. It’s plain to all to see that he adores them, in a way that is wholly different from his love for the Whitebeards. Marco has no doubt that Ace is theirs, down to his bones, but his brothers must be something special indeed to bring such a look to his face.
To be honest, this is kind of a new territory for Marco. Whitebeards generally don’t have families outside of the crew, and those that do don’t have any families worth talking about. Whitebeard attracts and adopts the lonely ones, the orphans and children looking for support and love, for a parent and siblings, and for the kind of stability that they don’t get at their homes. Ace is similar in this too, in a way, with his search for belonging, but clearly, whatever the issue in his childhood was, his brothers were not part of the problem.
“What about Sabo, yoi? Is he a pirate too?” Marco can’t remember any Sabo from wanted posters, but it’s not like he keeps track of every new pirate out on the seas. Still, he has a feeling that any brother of Ace would come onto the world stage with a splash. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to miss it.
“Uh, yeah, Sabo’s definitely sailing,” Ace says, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “He’s not a pirate, but he’s… doing things! Definitely doing things.”
Marco squints at him, suspicious. “He’s not a Marine, is he, yoi?” Marco would do a lot of things for Ace, even play nice with the Marines just to meet his beloved brother, but he gets a feeling it would get pretty awkward, pretty fast.
“No!” Ace says, vehemently. “Like Sabo would ever join the Marines! He’d sooner burn them all down.”
And they’re back to fire and burning things down. Marco does want to meet Ace’s brothers, for Ace’s sake if nothing else, but the casual mention of arson does not make them sound any saner than Ace himself.
Meeting them will probably be a blast.
…
The first time Marco meets the infamous Sabo, he doesn’t realize he’s Ace’s Sabo until the situation is already out of his control.
The Whitebeards are attacking a slaver ship near the entrance of the New World, and while the men on it were stupid enough to raid Fishman Island for slaves even though it’s under Whitebeard protection, they’re not weak enough that they can go into the fight half-hearted. Not if they want the kidnapped fishmen to stay safe and alive.
Fortunately, they’re plenty motivated.
Marco’s crew is rampaging on the opponents’ ship, dead and dying people painting the floorboards red. The main sail is burning — courtesy of Ace — and the surviving slavers are running around like headless chickens, trying to escape.
Marco takes one look at the situation and decides he’s probably needed more with injured victims than their captors. His brothers have everything well in hand on the deck.
Belowdecks is a little calmer, but he still has to steamroll over several men to reach the cargo hold. His heart skips a beat when he notices the stairs to the hold are slick with blood. He fears all the fishmen might be dead already if the slavers decided to cut their losses. He prepares himself for the sight of their corpses.
What he sees instead is this: a hold full of frightened fishmen, a tall, blond man in a noble's top hat, and a twitching slaver hanging from his grip.
Fire begins to smoke on Marco’s shoulders as he stares in alarm. “Who are you?” Marco doesn’t recognize him, and he’s definitely not one of his brothers. Maybe a slaver that turned on his comrades when he couldn’t stand the heat. “Drop him and raise your hands.”
The blonde turns his head ever so slightly and allows Marco a glimpse of a cold blue eye. “As you wish,” he says pleasantly, and clenches his hand. The slaver’s head is crushed like a grape. The blonde releases him to topple unceremoniously on the floor. He turns fully, and Marco gets a good look at his face.
He realizes that he knows him, actually. He’s seen the wanted posters, even if they lacked the man’s name.
“What’s a Revolutionary doing here, yoi?” Marco asks, relaxing a little. Not completely, of course; Revolutionaries are not pirates, and there’s no guarantee this one won’t attack him. But still. Better than slavers.
“Cleaning up some garbage.” The Revolutionary flicks his hand. Marco tenses at the movement until he realizes that his fingers are dripping with red. The Revolutionary is flicking off blood.
Okay. Not immediately threatening, but damn if the casual way he does that doesn’t raise Marco’s hackles.
“Didn’t know Revolutionaries are butting into our territory, yoi,” Marco says, and it’s not an outright threat, but the meaning is clear. Fishman Island is under Whitebeard’s protection, and while, by the mere fact of its position, other pirates and all other kinds of sailors have to pass through it to enter the New World, their crew is not about to allow anyone to make trouble there. Not even the Revolutionaries.
The Revolutionary in question peaceably raises his hands. The gesture would have been appreciated if Marco hadn’t seen him crush a man’s skull with them just a few moments ago. “I’m just passing through.”
“Really?” Marco’s eyebrows twitch. He nods towards the corpse on the floor. “Doesn’t look like you're only passing through to me, yoi.”
The Revolutionary sighs. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“You’re sailing in the New World, and you don’t want any trouble?”
“Fair enough,” the Revolutionary says. “But I really don’t want any trouble right now.”
Marco opens his mouth to retort, but he’s interrupted by a loud clatter from behind. There is a sound of rushed footsteps, before a familiar voice calls out, “Oi, Marco, are you done? We need you above; Thatch got himself a scrap.”
The Revolutionary’s eyes widen. “Ace?”
Ace trips down the last stair but manages to right himself before he plants his face on the floorboards. Good for him; that would have been embarrassing. Marco’s kind of sad to miss it.
“Sabo?” Ace’s voice rises in surprise as he stares at the blond.
Oh, so that’s Sabo, Marco thinks, and then, when the entire situation registers, That’s Sabo?!
Ace could have mentioned that his brother is one of the most notorious Revolutionaries on the seas. Most of the information the Government has on him is redacted, but the Whitebeards have their sources, and the man only known as ‘Bloody Gentleman’ is widely regarded as very dangerous and very insane. Marco has heard that he’s ruthless in combat and has committed more than one massacre in his relatively short career as a Revolutionary soldier. That his hands are covered in blood (and okay, that is more literal than Marco had previously thought). The only thing stopping his reputation from completely tanking is the fact that he reserves his bloodthirstiness for Government stooges, and every pirate can cheer to that.
There are rumours Dragon is grooming him for a command position. His advancement in the ranks has been astronomical.
Marco remembers Ace's previous description of his brother. That he’s doing things on the high seas. That he would sooner burn down Marines than join them.
Okay, maybe Marco should have seen this coming. That’s his bad. He freely admits that.
While Marco is having an internal crisis, Ace seems to have recovered from his shock. A wide grin crosses his face. “Sabo!” he says and flashes forward, arms outstretched as if he’s going for a hug — a hug! Ace! — but he stops when Sabo reaches back and Ace notices the blood on his hands. “Did you crush someone’s skull again?”
Again?! Marco is learning a lot of new information here.
Sabo looks down, apparently so used to blood on his hands that he doesn’t even notice it anymore. “Oh, sorry, I’ll wipe it away.”
“You shouldn’t be doing that in the first place!” Ace, hilariously, crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking like he’s building up to a lecture.
“It’s efficient,” Sabo shrugs.
“It’s gross and unhygienic,” says the most feral member of Marco’s crew. Marco has to choke down a laugh.
Apparently, he doesn’t do it well enough, because both Ace and Sabo swing their heads to look at him. It’s a little unnerving to be at the end of two such intense gazes.
“What?” Ace says.
“Nothing,” Marco snickers. “I just didn’t realize you’re a big brother, yoi.”
And a mother-henning one to boot. Oh, Thatch is going to love this.
Ace’s answering smile is smug. Sabo, on the other hand, rears back in outrage.
“He’s not my big brother!”
“Hey now,” Ace says with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t be like that. Look, it’s obvious who the older one is. Even Marco sees it.”
“We’re the same age!”
“Yeah, but I was born before you, so I’m still older.”
The expression on Sabo’s face is mulish. “You don't know that.”
“I was born on January 1st! We were born in the same year!” Ace snaps. “The chances of you being older than me are infinitesimal!”
“Yeah, but you still can’t know for sure,” Sabo says, in a smug little brother way. Marco recognizes it when he sees it, for all that Sabo appears to be in denial.
Ace huffs in outrage. “I would, if you would just tell me when your birthday is!”
“Wait, yoi,” Marco interrupts. “You don’t know when your brother’s birthday is?”
“Because he won’t tell me,” Ace says, as if that is all the explanation needed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, I’m definitely the oldest, so don’t listen to anything he has to say.”
Sabo draws himself up to his full height, aided by the top hat, and turns a charming smile in Marco’s direction. “Ignore him,” he says breezily, bowing with a flourish. Marco can see where the gentleman in his epithet comes from, even if his previous behavior didn’t show it. “It’s nice to meet the people that have been taking care of Ace on these seas. He needs all the help he can get, but he’s precious to a lot of people back home. We’re all grateful.”
Marco returns the smile. The words are mocking, but Sabo’s sincerity is obvious. “No problem, Ace is our little brother, yoi. We’ll always take care of him.”
Both of them ignore Ace going red as he splutters.
Sabo nods. “Yeah, he has a way of getting under your skin. But I’m glad he managed to find another family out on the seas.”
“Sabo!” Ace says and yanks at Sabo’s hat hard enough that it covers his eyes. Sabo attempts to slap him away, but he does it with his bloody hand, so Ace recoils in disgust. “Stop talking and wash your damn hand!” Then he turns on Marco. “And you better take care of prisoners and then go check up on Thatch! You have responsibilities, and no time to chat with this asshole!” Marco chokes down another laugh, because that is such a big brother lecture that he should have clocked it sooner. Ace scowls at him. “I’m going to talk to Pops!”
With that, he turns on his heel and storms off.
Marco’s laughter spills out. Sabo fixes his hat, meeting his eyes with a smile and a shrug.
“There will be a party later, yoi,” Marco says as he looks at the prisoners, who have apparently gone from terror to bewilderment during the reunion. That’s perfectly fine; at least no one is in shock. “You’re welcome to join.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Sabo grins. “I have to share all the childhood stories.”
Marco laughs again. Yes, this is exactly the sort of little brother Ace deserves to have. At least he knows how the rest of them feel when Ace himself goes around doing the most insane things on the most dangerous islands. Karma, and all that.
Also, the only thing that has burned down so far is the enemy sail, and from what Ace said about his brother, Marco counts this meeting as a success.
…
Marco hears about Ace’s youngest brother before he meets him.
“Oi, Pops, look! Look!” Ace barrels from the galley onto the deck and sprints toward Whitebeard without worrying about who he tosses aside to get there. He clambers onto Pops’ chair like a monkey, settling on the armrest to shove a paper into Pops’ face. “Look! It’s my little brother!”
“Gurarara, son!” Whitebeard laughs. “Give me some space; it’s too close to see!”
“Oh, right,” Ace says sheepishly, drawing his hand back so that Whitebeard and Marco, who is perched on Whitebeard’s shoulder, can see the wanted poster in his grip. There is a young boy in the picture, grinning wide, and he looks far too innocent for the bounty of 30,000,000 beri. “That’s my little brother!”
“Gurarara, that’s a good starting bounty!”
“Isn’t it?” Ace grins proudly. “I wonder who he beat up to get it. There are not a lot of big players back in East Blue.”
“Arlong, maybe?” Marco throws out the most famous name. Beating Arlong would definitely get someone a bounty like this; Ace is right that not many Marines or pirates in East Blue would get this kind of attention. “But he’s a Grand Line pirate, so maybe that’s too much to expect from a rookie, yoi.”
Ace lets out an offended squawk. “Luffy could definitely do it! He’s my crybaby little brother, but he’s strong! Just look at his bounty!”
Marco can’t not look at it with the way Ace is practically pushing it against his nose.
“Any brother of my son must be strong indeed,” Whitebeard declares.
That seems to placate Ace. He turns the wanted poster over to gaze at it with eyes softer than Marco has ever seen them. “Yeah. Luffy is the strongest person I know.” Marco is pretty sure he’s not talking about physical strength.
“Do you think I could visit him?” Ace blurts out, and then he blanches, looking at Whitebeard with trepidation. “Only if you can spare me for a week or two. Luffy will definitely be going to the Grand Line after this, and if I take Striker, I can be on Reverse Mountain to wait for him and back quick enough that you won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“Gurarara!” Whitebeard places a large hand against Ace’s head. Ace stops babbling to lean into the contact. “That’s fine. You should take one of your brothers with you to make the journey faster.”
And that’s how Marco finds himself on the Reverse Mountain a week later, waiting for the Strawhats to come along the current. At least Crocus is a good host, if a bit grumpy. He and Marco have a lot of things to reminisce over while Ace is sleeping and oblivious to the rest of the world.
Marco won’t deny that he’s curious about Monkey D. Luffy. He’s noted the family name, and he knows exactly where it came from, so he’s wondering how Garp’s relative ended up a pirate instead of a Marine, and also what the hell kind of connection Ace has with Garp. But Luffy is also a D, and Marco has spent long enough sailing on these seas to know that Ds bring change and chaos and that you can never know what to expect from them. Just look at Roger. Look at Ace. They really are the most troublesome of creatures.
Also, someone who Ace has no words to explain must be a very interesting person indeed.
So when the Strawhats finally sail in, he’s not surprised at the sheer chaos that erupts, though the fight with Laboon is a bit of a shock. But the Strawhats situate themselves on the island safely enough, and Monkey D. Luffy’s smile when he sees Ace on the shore is breathtaking.
“Ace!” he says, launching himself off from the ship and straight into Ace. Ace bears his weight with the ease of long practice and laughs as he buries his head into Luffy’s neck. “You’re here!”
“I saw your bounty, and I had to come meet my little brother!”
“Little brother?!” screams Strawhat’s entire crew, and the chaos continues.
An explanation about log poses, another fight with a whale, and a very bad painting later, Marco finally gets a chance to actually talk to Strawhat. From what he’s seen so far, Strawhat is definitely a D, but he still knows nothing about him as a person.
“Oi, Ace’s little brother!” Marco calls him over as the rest of the crew and Ace are busy arguing over navigation and the prisoners from some kind of bounty hunting guild they’ve managed to acquire.
Monkey D. Luffy turns his head and bounds over with a smile. The swordsman on his crew keeps a steady eye on him as he leaves but seems to decide everything is well enough, continuing to bicker with the blond cook. “Pineapple Guy!”
Marco cringes. “My name is Marco, yoi.”
“Did you come here with Ace?” Strawhat asks, completely ignoring Marco’s words. “Are you part of his crew?”
“Ace is part of my crew, yoi,” Marco corrects. “He joined the Whitebeard Pirates a couple of months back.”
“Eeh?!” Strawhat says, eyes widening in surprise. He looks even more childish in person, all big eyes and round face, appearing too naive to sail these seas. Marco can’t imagine him earning a bounty as high as 30,000,000 beri after only a couple of weeks of sailing. He can’t imagine him being a person that Ace can’t find words to explain. “Ace joined another guy’s crew?!”
Did he just refer to Whitebeard as another guy?! “Whitebeard is the strongest pirate on the seas, yoi,” Marco says. “And Ace is his son now.”
Strawhat goes abruptly still. “Son?”
Curious at the reaction, Marco continues. “Yeah. And since Whitebeard is all of our father, he’s also my little brother now, yoi.”
The change is immediate. Strawhat’s face, previously open and cheerful, turns to stone. His eyes are dark as they pin Marco in place like he’s a butterfly on display. It feels like Strawhat is flaying him alive with his gaze alone. “Ace is your little brother?” he asks, and the shadow of his straw hat falls onto his eyes.
It’s familiar somehow, but Marco’s attention is too caught up with that empty gaze to think about it further. “Yes. He’s my newest little brother, yoi. Ace is family.”
There’s nothing more he can say to that, really. Strawhat will either get it or he won’t.
Strawhat stares at him for one long moment. Marco knows it’s not true, but he can’t stop the thought that Strawhat can see right through him, that he can read his mind with his gaze alone. Marco is a veteran of these seas but there are not many people, dead or alive, who have ever made him feel this way. It’s not fear, because for all that Strawhat is sharper than he looks at first sight, he’s still far weaker than Marco. But it’s awareness. An instinct. This is not a king, not yet, but Marco recognizes a Conqueror when he sees one.
And then the moment passes. Strawhat grins, looking like a little kid again. “Shishishi! That’s good! Ace deserves a big family!”
That seems to be it. Strawhat turns his back to Marco without another word and bounces back to his crew to declare their next destination, fully expecting to be obeyed. There is some groaning, and some whining, but the Strawhats are on their way soon enough, and Ace is hugging his brother goodbye before they sail away in different directions.
Later, when they are back on Striker and Ace is propelling them towards their home, Marco says, “Your brother is…” and then he trails off, at a loss of words.
Ace grins. “Luffy is going to be the Pirate King.”
Marco has remembered where he had seen that straw hat before. He thinks Ace’s confidence is not misplaced.
…
“What’s got Ace in such a good mood, yoi?” Marco asks. Ace has already left the ship. Marco watches as he practically skips away towards the Sabaody amusement park.
Thatch shrugs. “Don’t know. Maybe he likes the rides.”
Marco snickers at the idea and drops down to sit and lean against the railing. A good chunk of their crew has left to party on the island while the ship gets coated, but Marco thinks he’ll spend this break resting a bit. Jozu’s birthday was just two days ago; he still hasn’t caught up on sleep after the party.
“He seems like he would be the type to like them, doesn’t he?” Izou says. “Now that I think about it, this is our first time on Sabaody since Ace joined. Do we know what he did here while he was with the Spade Pirates?”
There is a wave of shrugs and headshakes. Ace is generally an open person, but his stories are a hit-or-miss with their consistency, and he has a habit of falling asleep in the middle of conversation. They still haven’t gotten all the stories from his travels before he joined them.
“As long as he doesn’t go to the auction houses, yoi,” Marco says. “I don’t want to deal with another burnt-down building.”
There is a pause in conversation as all of them consider that possibility. It’s happened before, and it will probably happen again, but there’s still some time until Moby Dick gets completely coated, so they’re sitting ducks if the Marines come. They wouldn’t dare to attack, of course, but who wants to be confined to the ship while the Marines stand on the shore and tremble in their boots at the idea of facing down Whitebeard and his crew? Nobody, that’s who.
“Do you think maybe someone should check up on him?” Izou asks, even though he doesn’t look very enthusiastic about the idea. Izou has also been looking forward to some peace and quiet away from the younger members of the crew.
“Nah,” says Thatch, starfishing across the deck. “Ace doesn’t have a reason to go there, it will be okay.”
And perhaps that would have calmed everyone’s nerves if Haruta didn’t wander over and say, “Hey, aren’t Strawhat and Bloody Gentleman on Sabaody right now? Do you think Ace went to meet them?”
As one, Marco, Izou, and Thatch turn to look at him, empty-eyed with despair. Haruta looks back guilelessly, the little shit. He definitely knew about this before and decided that keeping it to himself would be funnier.
Izou sighs. “I’ll go warn Pops.”
“He’ll just laugh,” Marco says. Pops likes Ace’s brothers. If they weren’t who they were — namely a Revolutionary and a boy very determined to become a Pirate King — Marco bets they would have become part of their crew by now.
“Because it’s funny,” Thatch snickers. Only Marco has met Strawhat, but they’ve all been following his travels in the newspapers and they’ve met Sabo. They know exactly who they’re dealing with. “Ace’s brothers are a riot.”
With perfect timing, something explodes in the distance.
Marco levers himself back on his feet and looks at the island in increasing despair. “That’s Grove 1, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” says Haruta, grinning like all of his birthdays have come early.
“They blew up the Human Auction House, didn’t they?”
“Most likely,” Thatch says, sounding far too amused.
Great. That will definitely tick Doflamingo off.
But also, fuck that guy. Nobody likes him anyway.
There’s a sound of screaming coming from a distance. People are running every which way in fear and despair. Marine boots thud against the soft ground as platoon after platoon makes its slow and methodical way towards the center of the mess.
And, from the place with the largest chaos around, three very familiar figures hurtle towards Moby Dick.
Ace is in the lead, flames licking at his shoulders as he grins wide and feral. Sabo follows after him, hand on his top hat to keep it in place and gripping his pipe in his other hand, blood dripping from both ends of the weapon. Strawhat takes the rear, shishishi echoing across the island as he bounces his way over all the obstacles in his way.
There is a trail of other bodies after them, downed Marines littering their path, Strawhat’s crew running after them, some random octopus fishman that moves like he’s injured, and an actual mermaid, which at least explains what they were doing in Grove 1. A mermaid coming to Sabaody is a kidnapping waiting to happen; she’s lucky to come out of this with no chains around her neck.
“Oh, hey,” Ace waves as he comes into earshot, too nonchalant by far. “Didn’t expect you guys to still be here.”
“We wanted some peace and quiet, yoi,” Marco says, drily.
Sabo’s laugh is wild. “That’s a tall order with Ace on your crew.”
“Not my fault this time,” Ace says. He’s close enough to the ship to start clambering over the railing, the rest following after.
“And whose fault is it, yoi?”
“Luffy’s,” Ace and Sabo say at the same time and point at their little brother, who seems oblivious to the attention. Strawhat sweeps a quick look over his gathered crew and only deigns to turn his gaze to Marco after he assures himself everyone is in one piece.
“Shishishi! Hey, Pineapple Guy!” Behind Marco, Thatch chokes on his laughter. “We came to visit!”
Marco can’t stop himself from smiling at him, despite everything. It’s very hard to stay serious in the face of Monkey D. Luffy. “I see that, yoi.”
“Also the Marines will be coming here soon,” Strawhat informs him, leisurely, as he picks his nose. As if that’s not relevant information.
“That’s fine, yoi,” Marco sighs. “They won’t dare to attack the ship.” Without an Admiral (or Garp) present, Marines are generally instructed to leave Emperors’ vessels alone. Nobody wants to be responsible for sparking a war in the New World. Too many territories would be affected, and not even the Marines can be certain of their victory, especially with three other Emperors waiting on the sidelines to attack whoever comes out on top.
Ace and Sabo exchange a look. Marco is an older brother, so he clocks it immediately.
“What am I missing, yoi?”
“Okay, so,” Ace starts, and oh, blue seas take him, Marco can already see the new problems emerging.
“Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon!” Sabo reports, practically bursting with pride.
Thatch chokes, this time for real. Haruta cackles like a lunatic.
Marco looks at the three brothers, Ace appearing only vaguely apologetic, Sabo still grinning like this is the best thing that has ever happened to him, and Luffy generally oblivious to everyone else’s turmoil and completely uninterested in their reactions.
At least the island is still standing, Marco consoles himself. It could have been much worse with all three of them in the same place.
Small mercies, and all that.