Gunnar, now somewhat more decently attired thanks to Smoothie's exasperated intervention (though the towel was still his only covering below the waist), let his gaze drift from his laughing father to the scowling, chained young man near the mast. Ace.
'So, he's here already', Gunnar thought, a flicker of complex emotion – foreknowledge, a strange sort of pity, and a detached curiosity – passing through him. He consciously pushed it aside. One cataclysm at a time.
For now, he ignored the fiery newcomer. His priority was his father.
"Anything I missed while I was… indisposed, Dad?" Gunnar asked, his voice carrying a newfound resonance, the cigar smoke still a pleasant memory on his tongue. "Aside from nearly giving the entire crew a heart attack with my morning constitutional, that is."
A hearty laugh rippled through the assembled pirates.
"Gurarara! Indisposed is one word for it, son!" Whitebeard chuckled, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "You had us worried, that's for certain!"
It was Thatch who spoke up first, stepping forward with a wide grin. "Well, let's see, Gunnar. The main thing you missed, right after that whole island-sinking, robot-fighting, Akainu-surviving fiasco, was the spectacular implosion of our 'grand alliance' with Big Mom."
Gunnar raised an eyebrow. "Implosion? I gathered things weren't exactly… amicable, considering my in-laws tried to use my wife as a golem-shield."
"Exactly!" Thatch exclaimed. "When word got back to Pops about how Perospero and Cracker abandoned Smoothie – and how you, uh, dramatically intervened – let's just say the 'sweet regards' turned rather sour. There was a bit of a… heated exchange. A few cannonballs fired for good measure. Nothing too serious, considering," he winked, "but the alliance officially dissolved faster than a candy cane in a volcano."
"Smoothie-san," Gunnar turned to his wife, who was still standing nearby, arms crossed, a look of carefully cultivated indifference on her face, though her ears were faintly pink. "You stayed? Voluntarily?"
Smoothie scoffed, though there was no real bite in it. "Don't look so surprised, boy. My mother and brothers made their choices. I made mine. This ship," she gestured vaguely, "is marginally less infuriating than Totto Land at the moment. And someone had to make sure you didn't actually die of stupidity after that stunt you pulled."
"And she's been a surprisingly effective Second Division Commander in your… absence, yoi," Marco added, a teasing glint in his eyes as he clapped Smoothie on the shoulder, earning him a cool glare. "Keeps everyone on their toes. Mostly with threats of being juiced."
Gunnar absorbed this, a slow smile spreading across his face as he looked at Smoothie. A commander. His wife. Interesting. "So, the political marriage ended up being just… marriage, then? How delightfully unconventional."
"Don't push it," Smoothie muttered, though the corner of her lip twitched upwards.
"Right," Gunnar said, turning back to the crew. "So, alliance dissolved, Smoothie defected – or rather, chose a more discerning employer – what else?" He then finally allowed his gaze to settle on Ace, who was still staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and barely concealed aggression. "I see a new face. A rather… fiery one."
"Ah, yes," Whitebeard rumbled, his gaze softening as he looked at Ace, then back at Gunnar with a hint of amusement. "That would be Ace. He's… enthusiastic. Decided he wanted to take my head. Been trying, rather persistently, for the past few months."
"And failing spectacularly!" Haruta chirped from the crowd, earning a glare from Ace.
"He's got spirit, though," Whitebeard continued. "Reminds me of… well, never mind." He then looked at Gunnar, his eyes twinkling. "Speaking of changes, son, you seem to have… sprouted. And Pops here," he ran a hand over his own balding head, "seems to have lost quite a bit of what you've gained."
A fresh wave of laughter went through the crew.
"He's not wrong, Gunnar!" Rakuyo bellowed. "Your hair's longer than Vista's patience with a bad map! You could braid that and use it as a rope!"
Gunnar ran a hand through his own crimson and white mane, which indeed cascaded well past his shoulders. "A consequence of extended rest, I suppose. Though I can't say I mind it. Adds a certain… dramatic flair, don't you think?" He grinned, a flash of his old, more innocent self mixing with his newfound confidence.
"Dramatic flair is one way to put it!" Jozu rumbled, his diamond form glinting. "You look like a mountain spirit woke up on the wrong side of the bed!"
***
The Moby Dick sliced through the inky, moon-drenched waters of the New World. The boisterous energy of the day had long since faded, replaced by the quiet hum of a ship at peace, the soft lapping of waves against the hull, and the distant, twinkling indifference of a billion stars.
Smoothie stood alone on the foredeck, much like she had on their wedding night years ago. Her long, pale hair, now tinged silver by the moonlight, flowed freely around her shoulders. She wasn't looking at the sea this time, but upwards, her gaze lost in the celestial tapestry. The cool night air did little to soothe the strange, unfamiliar turmoil that had been churning within her since Gunnar's awakening.
A soft footfall behind her made her tense almost imperceptibly, but she didn't turn. She knew who it was.
"It's a clear night again," Gunnar's voice, deeper now, yet still holding that hint of youthful earnestness, reached her. He came to stand beside her at the railing, no longer the naked, audacious boy of the morning, but clad in simple, dark trousers and a loose-fitting shirt, his crimson and white hair stirred by the gentle breeze. He, too, looked up at the stars.
"This feels… familiar," he mused, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You, me, a ship under the stars. Though last time, I believe I was significantly shorter and you were significantly more… annoyed."
Smoothie allowed a small, almost reluctant, sigh to escape her. "You were an impudent child then. You are merely an impudent young man now." But there was no real venom in her words, only a weary sort of acceptance.
They stood in a comfortable silence for a while, the shared history of their bizarre, forced union hanging between them like the salty mist.
Then, Smoothie spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze still fixed on the heavens. "Why did you do it, Gunnar?"
He turned to look at her profile, silhouetted against the starlight. "Do what?"
"That day," she said, her voice tight. "In the ruins. With Akainu. You should have run. Perospero and Cracker… they had the right idea, from a… pragmatic standpoint. You could have escaped. You should have."
Gunnar was silent for a moment, his golden eyes reflecting the distant starlight. "You're right," he admitted, his voice low. "Logically, strategically… I should have run. Saved myself. That's what anyone from… from my old life would have done. That's what I probably would have thought to do, before…" He trailed off.
"Before what?" Smoothie pressed, finally turning to look at him, her amethyst eyes searching his face.
He met her gaze, his own unusually vulnerable. "Before I saw him… Akainu… about to kill you." He took a shaky breath. "I don't know how to explain it, Smoothie. It wasn't a plan. It wasn't strategy. When I saw that magma fist descending, when I saw the look in your eyes… somehow, I just… I felt this pain. Right here." He touched his chest. "A sharp, terrible pain, like something vital was about to be ripped away from me. Like if he struck you, a part of me would die too. I… I didn't care if I lived, in that moment. I just knew I had to stop him. I put everything I had, every last shred of power I didn't even know I possessed, into that one, desperate act."
Smoothie stared at him, her carefully constructed composure beginning to crack. "But… why?" she whispered, the question raw, almost desperate. "I was your enemy. A Charlotte. I spent a year making your life a living hell in those training sessions. Why would you feel anything for me?"
Gunnar's lips curved into a soft, sad smile. "Because," he said, his voice barely audible above the sigh of the wind, "somewhere along the way, Smoothie… somewhere between the insults, the beatings, and the impossible circumstances… I think I stopped seeing you as just Charlotte Smoothie, the Sweet Commander, your mother's political pawn."
He took a hesitant step closer, his golden eyes holding hers captive.
"I started seeing… you. And somehow, in all that madness… I think I accepted you. As my wife. Truly. And…" He hesitated, the next words catching in his throat, laden with a truth he hadn't fully acknowledged himself until this very moment. "And I think… I think I fell in love with you."
The words hung in the starlit air, fragile and impossibly brave.
Smoothie's breath hitched. Her mind, usually so sharp, so analytical, went completely blank. Love? This boy, this strange, powerful, infuriatingly earnest boy… loved her? Charlotte Smoothie, who had never known genuine, unconditional affection in her entire life? It was… inconceivable. Terrifying. And yet…
She saw again that single tear on her own cheek in the collapsing ruin. She remembered the desperate, protective fury in his transformed eyes. She remembered the years she had sat by his bedside, a vigil she had told herself was purely out of duty, out of ensuring Mama's asset remained viable. But was it? Or had something else, something deeper, kept her there?
Gunnar, seeing the storm of emotions warring in her eyes, the disbelief, the fear, the dawning, fragile hope, took another step. He was close now, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her, close enough to see the faint tremor in her usually steady hands.
He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to. His heart was laid bare.
Slowly, tentatively, he reached out, his hand, marked with those strange, beautiful veins of fire and ice, gently cupping her cheek. Her skin was cool beneath his touch.
She didn't pull away. Her amethyst eyes, wide and luminous, searched his.
And then, under the silent, watchful gaze of a billion indifferent stars, Gunnar D. Newgate leaned in and kissed Charlotte Smoothie.
It wasn't a kiss of passion, not yet. It was a kiss of profound tenderness, uture, but a future faced… together.
Smoothie, for the first time in her life, felt her carefully constructed walls begin to crumble, not under duress, not under orders, but under the gentle, unwavering pressure of a love she had never believed possible. And as she hesitantly, almost shyly, returned his kiss, a single, silent tear.
[For the Trio arc, The members I have decided. I couldn't find any suitable for it. So, I decided to create my own. The trio are:
1. Gunnar: Son of Whitebeard
2. Ace: Son of Roger
3. Isshin Ashina: He is based on Isshin from Sekiro. He will have similar moves. I am thinking of dedicating an whole arc to him. With others ofcourse. He is will be samurai. Guys What do you think about it.
Next ten chapters from here would be a powerup of Ace and Gunnar.
If Isshin is fixed, then he will have his dedicated Arc after that. And trust me, He will be a very interesting arc. It will be beginning of Trio arc. If you'll oppose it then I won't do it though.
So, tell me your thoughts.
Pic of Isshin Ashina]