He thought about it every once in a while. The war. Ace. Akainu. Jinbe. Hancock. He remembered the glory. The glory that lasted 5 minutes. Maybe more. Maybe less. Who knows. He remembered running. He remembered the card. The sliver of a card. He remembered staring at Sakazuki's molten hand and wondering why it protruded out of Ace's stomach. He remembered clutching at the hole in his brother's back, clutching at the exploded tattoo that had once adorned his proud brother's back. He remembered the final words. And he remembered blacking out. Not being one to dwell on such things for too long, he often sprang back into action. Smiling, laughing, and chatting with his Nakama. But it was during these times. When their captain did not smile, nor laugh, nor chat that his crew worried for him most.