A/N: Okay, so a little warning before the story: I'm a bad writer and this is my first story. I just recently read the book, The Book Thief, and wondered how the narrator, Death, would feel about the characters in One Piece. Like what colors would he see and how will he interpret the events that were happening? So that was the initial thoughts that created this story.

Summary: As Death recollects Ace's soul, he thinks about the four times that he had met the boy in flesh.

Disclaimer: I did not create One Piece; Oda did that. The narrator, Death, came from The Book Thief which was written by Markus Zusak. A great book that I highly recommend.

A beginning…

I could introduce myself, but it's really pointless. Depending on many factors, you will soon know me well enough. At some point in time, I will be standing over you; your soul in my arms, a color perched on my shoulder. And gently, I will carry you away.

The question is what color will everything be at the moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?

I like a dark, dark chocolate sky though I try to enjoy every color.

Anyways, what I was meaning to say is my one saving grace is distraction. You may think why does he even need a distraction? From what?

Which brings me to my next point.

It's the leftover humans…

The survivors…

I need to see the colors to keep my eyes off the faces of despair. Their reaction to being left behind. They have broken hearts, beaten lungs even.

Which in turn brings me to the subject I am telling you about wherever or whenever you may be. It's the story of one of those perpetual survivors – an expert at being left behind.

It's really just a small story among other things:

*A boy

*Some words

*A noble's son

*Some fanatical Marines

*A happy, reckless rubber pirate

*And quite a lot of thievery

I saw Firefist four times.

…

First up is something white. Of the blinding kind.

You may argue that white isn't a color or that the sky can't be purely white or all that other nonsense. Well, I'm here to tell you that it is. White is without question a color, and the sky at that time was a beautifully pure white.

It felt as if the whole globe was blocking out all darkness away from the area. There was no sin, no bad, no evil in the room. Simply, just pure… life… Near the window pouring out blinding light and gentle warmth, a woman with strawberry blonde hair motherly rocked her newborn baby. Like all newborns, the baby in her arms cried out to the world that he was alive. Smiling, she looked at her darling one last time. As you might expect, she was going to die.

Tears fell out of her eyes like raindrops as her arms grew weaker. Yet still, she held the baby strongly. She knew that she was going to die and used the last of her strength to support him and softly said,

"If it's a girl, then 'Anne'… And if it's a boy… 'Ace'… That's the name he chose for this child… Gol D. Ace… That's the name of our child…"

With that, she inhaled her last breath and kissed the baby's forehead lightly. Ace looked up at his mother as she became still. A tender smile stayed frozen on her face. Perhaps, the boy knew that she was gone since he desperately cried louder than before.

A feeling emerged within me as I saw her soul sat up to meet me. It was one of those rare ones, the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, "I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come." She lay in my arms with the scent of Southern warmth and flowers. There was an immense longing for the man who she loved and a magnetic pull towards her son who she had hoped to raise and watch him grow up. As I carried her warm soul, she whispered, 'Ace'.

But there was no Ace for me in that house.

Out of curiosity, I stayed a while to witness what would happen to the boy. An old man wearing the clothes of a Marine clenched his fists; sweat poured down his being. Gulping, he slowly walked towards the baby who was still being gently cradled by the dead woman. After a bit of hesitation and a mixture of emotions that passed through his face, the man picked Ace up and carried him out of the room. Noticeably, the light dimmed as all life escaped the room and silence ensued.

…

Next is a deep blue that reflected the vast ocean below. White, fluffy clouds roamed freely across the smooth blue canvas. Down below, calm, soothing waves sparkled with the light of the sun. There was a beautiful tranquility in the air. Again, you should already expect that the peace would be short-lived if I was there.

I don't go on vacations. After all, who could replace me? Who would? I watch even the most gruesome of deaths and observe the faces of the survivors if there are any. For eternity, I transport souls.

Soon, big black shadows blocked the sun's light and darkened the ocean. Gigantic marine warships escorted behind an elegant and even bigger ship. Then, a few feet ahead was a small dinghy sailing away from the harbor… Towards the massive fleet… Inside the dinghy was a small boy with a black top hat with goggles and a face-splitting grin. He was obviously happy with getting away from the huge crowd of nobly dressed people. A mixture of feelings was expressed on the crowd's faces, ranging from anger to embarrassment and even to fear. I didn't really understand why they would pale until a shot rang out.

Oh, right… I came here for the boy.

I turn my head to see the burning remnants of the dinghy and boy's top hat. Grey smoke tainted the once serene sky and muddied the formerly pure white clouds. As I went down to loosen his soul and carry it away, I spot the culprit out of the corner of my eye. Almost immediately, I recognize him as one of the oddly dressed men that I frequently see in my job. One of the great villains that I work for. A smirk formed on his face as he rested the still smoking bazooka on the ground. No regret from firing at a boy and stealing all his years was shown.

Gently, I lifted the small soul into my arms. Some glimpses of his memories flashed through my mind. Suddenly remembering the nobles, curiosity tempted me to look at their faces… Their reaction though I tried my best not to look at the people who were left behind…

Their faces were crumbling among the jigsaw puzzle of realization, despair, and surprise. The former arrogant looks visibly paled as they witnessed the cold-blooded, unnecessary murder. Away from the kingdom, near the forest, I spot two young boys. In sync, the soul in my arms reached out for the boys; they must have been this one's friends.

The little one cried at the sight; the other just glared with immense hatred.

If I hadn't known better, then I would have thought that he was angry at me for taking his friend away. That he could actually see me and despised my very being…

Well, I turned to leave and move on to my next task when the soul whispered,

"Ace… Luffy…"

Many years had passed, but I recognized the name. Blinding white and the warm scene of a mother hugging her newborn before she died…

Once again, I turned to look at the boys. Something tells me that the furious, intimidating boy was Ace. Time had passed and the once innocent, crying baby turned into a strong, enraged boy. Humans really surprised me at how fast they change.

…

The third time I saw him was a pure black; a black that many people thinks that it suits me. It was the darkest moment at a night of a new moon.

Once again, I had arrived too early and watched as a man betrays his nakama. A short gasp of surprise escaped the man with a pompadour before he collapsed on the ground. Quickly, the traitor stole a purple fruit (one that I recognized as the Devil Fruit of Darkness) and ran away.

I stood there, waiting for him. Some people cling longer to life than expected; not that I'm saying that it's wrong, but it delays my job. Blood pooled out of him and some curses could be heard. Suddenly, a door opened.

Although he grew taller and calmer, I instantly knew that it was that boy… Ace.

Ace's eyes flickered opened as he shouted out the man's name,

"Thatch!" His voice was strident, deep, and frantic. Almost immediately to his shout, the other men rushed to the scene. All of them, including Ace, crowded the slowly dying man and called for a doctor. It was useless and pointless in my opinion; the man already lost a lot of blood. He probably couldn't even talk…

Never mind, I should stop my habit of underestimating humans.

The man named Thatch used his remaining strength to tell his nakama of what had transpired and say his last words. After Thatch's voice became inaudible and his eyes were closed, I stepped forward from my spot. The time was right. Gently, I loosened his bright soul out and carried it in my arms as I always do.

Before I left, I peeked at the people's reactions against my better judgment.

All of the pirates expressed a variety of emotions, but the strongest of them being deep anger and sadness. All of them stayed still as they processed their thoughts. It was still dark out and they couldn't believe that their own nakama betrayed them in the worst possible way. All of them except for Ace, that is.

Said man stormed out. His nakama and captain tried stopping him, but Ace was beyond mad.

Please, I ask you to believe me.

I wanted to stop the man from doing anything reckless. From experience, blind anger never solved anything or helped. Instead, the angry almost always die in their revenge.

I wanted to say:

"I'm sorry, child." For everything. I would be angry, too, if all the ones that I liked were taken away. In the short time he's lived, I've carried the souls of his father, mother, and two close friends.

But that is not allowed.

I did not stop him.

I did not speak.

Instead, I watched him as he left in an unstoppable fury. Then, I left the blackness to continue on with my task.

…

The last time I saw him was grey. It was the middle field between the poles of my versatility; a color that some wise elders later find as a perfect way to describe the world.

A few days ago, it was a peaceful place where birds would happily chirp in. When I arrived, the once peaceful place became a mad battlefield for a war.

The dark blue sky was soon covered with dirty smoke that seeped out of cannons, guns, bombs, and many other stuff.

Brutality was at its best.

What I saw wasn't humans, but animals… All of them hacked at each, not caring, probably even forgot the reason why they were there. Unnecessary killing. Blood flowed like wine and dried on the cold cement or ice; bodies littered the ground.

A packet of souls… While more was arriving for me to carry away…

Then, I see him.

He was there in the midst of the chaos. He, too, was one of the fallen. But he was different.

A tender smile decorated his face. For once, I saw his light; his joy for being able to live and protect that person next to him…

Ah, it was that boy from that day of deep blue.

Like his parents, his soul stood up to meet me. It accepted my presence after looking back at the boy and his nakama gently. Despite the past times I saw him where he was the embodiment of rage, he actually had a heart. A big one. He was one who would do anything to protect those that he loved. He was a doting brother.

Just a nice man who been through rough times. Way too many.

...

As I carry his soul to the next world, one memory flows into me. He was with that old man that had carried him away from the blinding white.

"Gramps… do you think… that I should have really been born?" Before I could hear the man's answer, the scene shifted.

There he was on a cliff with that strawhat boy.

"Listen up, Luffy, and remember this! I'm not going to die!"

It was a promise that he would never be able to keep. Everyone, everything dies. At some point in time, I will be standing over you…

But that doesn't mean that it wasn't worth it. Every living thing deserves to exist… To live.

I am reminded of the four times I saw him in flesh that resonate the most:

The motherly smile of the woman. The warm blinding white that engulfed the newborn's presence and welcomed his existence.

The smile that threatened to split the face of a new pirate. The free puffy clouds soaring across the blue sky without a single care.

The sadness resulting from the death of a friend. The black darkness that shrouded the death.

And now the smile of happiness from the one simple thought of being satisfied with his life. The grey that showed how life was filled with both bad and good.

But that doesn't mean that it shouldn't exist or that life had no value. Or that life couldn't be fun.

Yes, often, I am reminded of him. It is one of the small legion I carry, each one extraordinary in its own right. Each one an attempt—an immense leap of an attempt—to prove to me that you, and your human existence, are worth it.