What's this? A story? It cannot be!

Ahahaha. ^.^ Just a one shot to get me back into some writing after a long time off.

I, of course, own nothing.

Sabo has certain… idiosyncrasies. Little habits, inclinations, that he can't explain.

The first one he notices is a love of heights. He's six months into recovery and he climbs to the top of headquarters. From the outside. Inazuma scolds him for doing something so reckless and asks him why he did it. Sabo has no answer. He just felt like being up high was where he belonged. Inazuma gives his shoulder a small squeeze in sympathy and never asks why again.

The second and most obvious one is the pipe. He's already picked up the bow staff in the training room and proven pretty good at it (which leaves an infuriating number of questions) but it's nothing compared to the pipe. He's in town to help with supplies and just to get off base when they pass some plumbing supplies on a side street. Sabo stops and stares and it's almost in a trance as he walks over to a barrel of pipes almost as tall as himself, lifts one, and swings it in a wide arc only to stop in a practiced stance. He can't explain it and he won't let it go. It's something. It's something important and weird and infuriating but it's something.

Now the hat, no one minds the hat. He likes a top hat. Plenty of people like top hats. He still likes dressing like a noble even if his clothes are always dirty and worn. No one questions that. But the hideous, hexagonal goggles taking the place of the traditional ribbon has always been a bit of a mystery.

He doesn't notice his preference for trees at first. It just seems normal, natural. People love trees and he loves high places so of course he loves climbing trees. What could be unusual about that? Koala asks him about it. "Why do you like trees so much?" He looks at her in confusion so she carries on. "It's just, you're never as relaxed as when you take a nap in a tree. Is it a pleasant memory?" Sabo's face drops. They're fifteen and Koala is new so even though they're friends, she doesn't know about his amnesia yet. He'd not hiding it, it's just not important. His heart constricts as he looks blankly past her. Is it a pleasant memory? Is he subconsciously feeling relaxed in some kind of sensory stimulation? He still loves napping in trees – or just being up there in general – but now there's always that question pounding in the back of his head. Is he missing something pleasant? He basks in the comfort anyway.

Everyone brushes off how fearless he is in the face of huge animals and the natural dangers of the grand line – he's always been fearless and reckless since the day he got on his feet – but they do wonder where his instincts come from: tracking prey in the forest, skinning and cooking animals, even building his own fire. They're not skills expected from a noble but no one mentions it. Sabo already questions himself.

Hack pours him a cup of sake after a successful heist. He's sixteen and old enough to drink if he wants. They're in a bar and the noise of rowdy drunks and celebrating Revolutionaries is near deafening and matches his own good cheer. But he doesn't touch the sake. He sits at the bar, picks up the sake and swirls it now and then, but mostly he just stares at it. There's something. He doesn't know how long he's been contemplating before Koala and Hack come over and ask if something's wrong. No, no. Nothing is wrong. They each grab their own cup and Sabo smiles as they throw it all back together, the three of them. He can't place why, but he knows he just made a promise that these two will always be important to him. He never drinks sake with anyone else and he never tells them either.

When he's seventeen there's a nagging feeling at the back of his head that he's supposed to be doing something. It quiets down he goes on missions so he considers it a call to adventure and is out back to back for months. He also feels like he's forgetting something. Not the same as he should be doing something but that something else is going on. He keeps a closer eye on the news and delves even deeper into the inner workings of the marines and the world government. He still feels like he's missing something but as he gets deeper into his work as a Revolutionary, the feeling passes.

At no point does he question his fascination with pirates. Pirates are cool. He's been warned about some and met several allies but whether friend or foe it's never changed his opinion. Pirates are cool. Pirates are free. And if he weren't so driven as a Revolutionary, he's pretty sure he'd be one.

When Dragon points out that the super rookie Portgas D. Ace is actually the son of Roger, Sabo frowns. There's something that doesn't sit right with him. It's not that Roger has a son or that Dragon knows about it and it's not that he's been told (he's privy to a lot of information these days). There's something about… it being so casual? About it not being a big deal? Not that it should be, but a lot of people would make it out to be. Sabo can't put his finger on it but tucks it away. Portgas D. Ace. Not just the son of Roger, but a force to be reckoned with in his own right. He hopes that the world will know his name for his deeds. Sabo would hate to live under the shadow of his own father after all.

It's a (lucky? unlucky?) fortuitous day that gives him answers.

A shout rises in the market about a thief. Sabo doesn't even think. He sprints into action and tackles the thug. He knocks him in the head and pries away the ornate oil lamp. There are numerous engravings: stunning reliefs of some kind of deity framed by the sun and riches piled around it with real gems laden throughout. It's probably worth a fair bit between the jewels and the craftsmanship and Sabo has to repress the urge to fence it himself. The vendor is just a few stalls down and he really should return it. But he kinda wants to keep it…

Pushing his thieving instincts down, he strolls back to the owner leaving the attempted thief lying in the street.

The woman he returns it to is dressed in a variety of shawls. Blue, yellow, purple, turquoise, burgundy, lavender, rose, and gold are just a few that stand out. They're all wrapped around her, tassled and layered in a dizzying dress that almost seems to shift on it's own. Her dark hair peeks out from an especially ornate shawl embroidered in shimmering silver swirls over a deep navy with pearls and diamonds glittering throughout. It looks like the night sky reflected off the ocean and it is both beautiful and reminds him of danger. Her green eyes draw attention away from the forming crows feel and the silver veil doesn't completely hide the firm line of her lips.

Sabo presents the stolen lamp with a flourish, his hands presenting the item before him as he offers a small bow. "My lady. I have retrieved the stolen item." He smiles from under his bangs in a way that he knows minimizes what you see of his scar and comes off as childishly charming. He can tell she sees right through his playful image with the piercing look in her eyes so his smile goes from charming to a cheeky smirk. He straightens up, still offering the lamp, and never moves his eyes from hers. Something tells him that would be a mistake.

"You would not ransom it?" She's scrutinizing and clearly waiting for something.

He considers her carefully. She has her hands steady at her sides, multicolored rings layered on every finger. She's clearly wealthy and if all of her crafts are this high quality, she surely makes a good living. But it's more than that. 'Ransom.' She's not asking about a reward, she's asking if he'll give it back willingly. What an odd assumption. Hadn't he just offered it?

And yet, there's a pull. An instinct to make a request. A compulsion to take this for himself. An irrational urge to horde it as a personal treasure. (And no one has ever found out that Sabo has a treasure hoard hidden among the cliffs of Baltigo. Another habit he can't explain and doesn't want to. Doesn't want to look too deeply and still find nothing.)

So he smiles and offers it again. "No, there's no reason to." It's an irrational urge, an unexplained instinct like all the others he pretends he doesn't have.

"You give it freely?" She asks again, an eyebrow raised regally.

And something strikes Sabo. This is not only an odd exchange, but a powerful one. In his many years on the Grand Line, he's seen things even people on other islands don't believe. Devil Fruits, Minks, indescribable cruelty, and, least believed of all, things that can only be called magic. He knows well that every legend is surely real somewhere on the Grand Line and this encounter reeks of power. If there's one thing stories have taught him, it's to watch his words closely when encountering such a being.

"While it may be in my possession, it is not mine. I have no need for it nor do I request anything from you. I merely seek to return that which was stolen." He adjusts his grip to a more open palm so that it's more a simple offering than a cheeky display. He keeps himself relaxed and holds eye contact.

She stares at him, assessing for just long enough for a shiver of doubt to manifest in the back of his mind that he may have offended her before she puts her own hand out to receive the lamp. She doesn't take it herself and Sabo wonders at the significance. The most important part is that she doesn't seem offended so he deposits the lamp gently into her hand.

The bustle of the market seems to ignore them and it sets Sabo on edge somehow. People are avoiding them without looking, like they're not there. Is he already caught? He takes a mental breath. Attacking is a bad, bad, bad idea even if he feels trapped. Keeping his expression serene, he observes as she runs her fingertips across the lamp, just barely grazing the intricate jewels and compressions that form a picture of worship.

A contemplative expression softening the corner of her eyes, she looks back at him. "There are not many who would freely give up such treasure."

Sabo smiles pleasantly. "It was never mine so there was nothing to give up."

"But you wanted it." A simple fact like she can see right through him. Sabo has the distinct impression she can.

"I want a lot of things." Honest and unspecific. Best not to give details on wanting to hoard it or fence it; just hearing that his first instinct wasn't to return it is already treading dangerous territory but lying would be far worse.

Dark green eyes like a thriving jungle bore into him. "Yes, you do. You desire more than most." Well that's a bit rude. Sabo doesn't consider himself a greedy person – the sentiment reeks of the nobility – and while he hoards treasure and fences contraband, he also fights injustice and has spent his entire (knowing) life doing his damndest to tear apart those who trod on others.

He says none of this of course. Arguing with beings of power is monumentally stupid and Sabo knows without a doubt that he's intelligent. He wouldn't get away with half the shit he does if he couldn't think his way out of it.

She smiles at him, slightly amused like she can see the offense hidden behind his benign expression. She likely can and he ignores his annoyance at being read. He's a spy and a master at fooling others; magic or not, it burns his pride. Another mental breath. He's lucky she's amused and he damn well knows it.

She turns back to her lamp, fingers ghosting over it lovingly. "No, it is not greed that drives you. It is longing."

His heart skips a beat. She can see right into his heart, through the wall of denial so sturdy he doesn't even notice it anymore. That desire, that need, that pull on his heart he can't explain that forces his head towards the East when he knows there's nothing for him there.

Sunlight flashes across her rings and sparkles off the lamp in a blinding display that forces him to blink. There's more than sunlight in that shimmer, there's power.

Her hand comes to a rest across the top of the lamp and her eyes meet his dead on. "You would not ask for anything back?" The question is forked, both asking about a reward and for his past. His answer is the same.

He sweeps his hat off his head and places it in front of his heart. "My lady, there is nothing I would ask of you for a return of that which is not mine."

Recognition of a game well played dances in her eyes. She turns back to the lamp, examining, contemplating, considering…

Sabo holds back a frown as he replaces his hat on his head sans flourish. There's something. Something between her inspection of the lamp and how he hasn't been dismissed yet that sets the hair rising on the back of his neck. His instinct is to excuse himself, Koala is surely looking for him after all, yet he restrains himself. People are still passing by them as if they aren't even there and he knows he's in way over his head.

She stills, the lamp held firmly in front of her with one hand on top. "You have returned that which is most precious to me, I shall return that which is most precious to you. However, you must choose."

Choose? Well that's bad. First off, magical gifts are notoriously double edged. Second, choosing wrong could end in catastrophy. And third, he has a choice?

A choice between what? She said 'that which is most precious to you.' How is that not singular? He knows it's his past. This itch at the back of his heart that says he's missing something; so isn't what he most desires his memories? But memories are very ephemeral and he had given her something physical. So she was offering a physical piece of his past.

He doesn't want his parents. He knows that. He doesn't want any piece of High Town or the nobility he once was. So what does he want?

He fails to keep the suspicion out of his eyes but she carries on regardless. Truly, he must be hemorrhaging luck because there's no other way he's getting out of this in one piece. "Your heart lies in two places. You must pick one."

Sabo's mind spins. Two places? So his past or his present? No, a physical thing, a location. Baltigo and his homeland perhaps? No, that can't be right. He doesn't want to go back, it was his first screaming thought. So this is still choices he doesn't know. Things he yearns for that he doesn't remember. Two of them in separate places. He doesn't think he did much travelling as a kid but what does he know? He can't remember.

"You can have either your sea or your sky." Oh, great. She speaks in riddles. Not that he expected her to be direct but he's pretty sure she just wants to see him stew.

Well, he thought his way into this mess, he just needs to keep thinking. Ok, metaphor. So this isn't literal and it's probably not a location. So it's representational. Also, possessive. 'Your' Sea. 'Your' Sky. These are ways that he represents that which is most important to him. The sea and the sky are both pretty important things and both things he loves so: things he loves. Items he loves? No, too shallow – it doesn't feel right. People –

He cuts off the thought. He had compared people to things before. Koala was much like a forest. She could shelter you or destroy you. Hack was a mountain. Strong, steady, supportive; but also deadly. Dragon was a storm and Sabo loved watched the chaos standing in the eye next to him.

Sabo could feel his heart thunder against his ribs. People. There were people precious to him – the very sea and sky themselves, the two biggest forces in the world. Two people who were the most precious thing in the world to him. Who still are.

The woman is watching him with a satisfied gleam.

Right. Mind reading. Or something similar.

He focuses back on his choices.

The sea and the sky represent people so maybe he needs to look at this backwards. Sabo has a lot of idiosyncrasies he can't explain, cursing at the sea is one he shares with plenty of others. But maybe, maybe he's cursing at a person too. He closes his eyes to immerse himself in his feelings.

The sea is beautiful and powerful and perilous. Sabo loves the calm sea. He loves the peace and always hopes it lasts just a little longer because he knows it can change faster than he changes disguises. When it storms, he's always calling it a stubborn bastard and wishing it would just find peace. He knows there are secrets in the depths that no one can ever see and that he feels blessed to have a place on the ocean.

The sky is huge. Even after flying through it dozens of times there's no describing the contentment Sabo feels: sudden gusts that feel playful or gentle breezes that remind him of peaceful afternoons. How rainstorms make him want to tease people but a bad storm makes him want to fix something, as if he can stop a flood if he can just find what's wrong. And he loves the sun. It's like an endless smile he can't get enough of.

But they're two halves of the same whole. It's the wind that lets a ship sail and storms are a rage of both. Two halves of a whole. Two people who make up Sabo's world. Or at least, two people who did. Sabo peers at her from slit eyelids. She can see everything, or at least enough to know disturbing amounts about him, and she says they are what's most precious to him. That even with no memories, he yearns for them above all else.

With another mental breath, Sabo puts them both aside, whoever these people are. He is being offered a magical gift and these are often known to backfire. And if these people are as precious as she says, he'd never forgive himself if he caused them more harm.

So he bows.

He makes it as showy as his initial presentation of the lamp with a stunning grin and a sweeping flourish. "My lady, you honor me by offering such a gift however, I cannot choose. The Sea and the Sky are both free and if you gave either of them as a gift I'm sure it would only cause a storm."

And this is dangerous. Unbelievably dangerous. You don't turn down a gift freely offered. You don't refuse a magical being. You talk our way out of it and pray you come out in one piece.

Sabo knows this.

But he also can't accept. Sabo is all for risking himself and his own life but something as integral to the world as the sea and the sky, people so integral they are his Sea and Sky…

No. He can't take chances with them. Whoever they may be.

As he looks up from under his bangs she meets his resolve with a pursed glower.

Shit. He may have royally screwed himself over, but he won't take it back. If these people are as real and important as she's implied, he can't let them get hurt. Besides, what it the sea without the sky? He'd be lying to himself if he chose one over the other.

She blinks and her gaze morphs slowly from displeasure to honest surprise. "You would turn down your most precious gift, the cornerstones of your very world, in order to protect them?"

Sabo's smile is blinding. "Yes."

She stares at him; a wild jungle sizing him up as something she's never seen before. A minute passes as Sabo continues to grin contently at her. Sure, he wants the gift, just like he wanted the lamp. But he's an expert at separating what he wants from what he can and should have.

Slowly, she smiles. "There are few like you."

"Those who aren't greedy?" He smirks as he straightens up. He is so unbelievably lucky to be getting out of this.

"Those who would rather protect than possess." She corrects. She tucks the lamp among the numerous shawls that make her dress in the impossible way that women make things disappear. "It has been a pleasure, Revolutionary Sabo."

A man walks directly between them and when he passes Sabo distinctly alone.

He breathes out a sigh of relief ready to sit down with a drink and maybe take a nap when a bullet seems to smash into his head. His knees give out and his mind is a mess of smiles laughs junkyards rain treehouse pirates soldiers warmth love brother brothers Brothers

When he comes to it's in his hotel room with Koala wringing out a cloth next to him.

Did I have a fever?

He removes the warm cloth from his head as he sits up.

"Sabo!" Koala exclaims, dropping the cloth back into the bowl. "What happened? You just collapsed in the market." Her hands waver in the air for a moment wanting to check him over before folding in her lap.

The woman and the lamp come back to him. The etching of a being receiving riches. No, not receiving, gifting. "I impressed a Genie."

He can feel Koala's deadpan without looking at her.

He remembers. Two boys and a trash heap – the things that made Sabo who he is.

The most precious beings in the world.

"Sabo, I am going to need a lot more than 'I impressed a Genie'." And there comes the annoyance. Well, might as well go for broke.

He jumps out of bed and starts looking for his boots. "Do we have any missions with the Whitebeards? Or even just an exchange of information?"

Koala's expression turns from annoyance to disbelief. "Sabo, wha-"

"Not that that's more than an excuse, I'll be going either way." Boots located, he doesn't even sit to tug them on.

"Hey-!"

"I'll be back soon. Hopefully. Assuming I get past the oncoming murder attempt." Sabo grabs his jacket off the end of the bed and searches for his hat. Ah. Beside Koala on the table. He gages Koala as she starts gritting her teeth and tensing her fist.

"Sabo, you better start explaining right now because you're not making any sense. Why do you need to see Whitebeard? What did the Genie do to you? Are you sure you weren't just drugged?" She tries to talk herself down but Sabo knows her temper.

He takes a jaunty step backwards towards the door. He'll just have to come back for his hat later. "Well, Ace is going to try to kill me no matter what so I'm hoping to head him off by going in person." And with a shit eating grin he ducks out into the hall.

"SABO!"

Koala is gonna kill him when she catches up but really, she's far too easy to rile up.

So, this is kinda rough (especially at the end) but I just cannot get enough of ASL reunions! I leave the rest to you imaginations.

Originally the Genie was gonna disappear and then Ace and Luffy would be in her place very confused but that scene... really didn't come together and after sitting on this for a few days I decided to just wrap it up.

Reviews are inspiration. Feed the author. And please let me know how this came out.