"Hey," Koala says. "Happy birthday. I have a present for you."

"No, wait, sorry, back up," Sabo says, accepting the folder she's holding out. "It's not my birthday."

"Actually it is," she answers, and leans over her stack of papers to open the folder sitting on top. "See?"

Sabo blinks and stares down at the paper. It's a profile, just like every profile the Revolutionary Army creates and keeps, only it's his picture in the corner.

Not a current picture, though; one from years and years ago, gap-toothed and short-haired, and the name beside it reads Sabo Outlook.

"What," he says, fingers slowly closing on the paper. "What is this?"

"Happy birthday," Koala repeats, and holds out the rest of the stack of papers. "I got you your past."

He looks up at her, eyes wide. She looks away, back to the papers he's not taking, so she doesn't have to see the expression on his face.

His fingers close on the paper and reopen, and he swallows once and then says, "Why?"

"Because it was bothering you," she says, shrugging casually. "And if my partner is distracted in the field, it puts me in danger too. Entirely self-interest, I promise."

He flips a few pages, skims and bit, and makes a punched-out noise. "This is—this is years' worth of data—Koala, this must've taken—"

"Entirely selfish," she repeats, and waves the stack of papers he still hasn't accepted. "And it's not like I did it alone or anything. Turns out there's no shortage of idiots here willing to dig into your sordid past in hopes of embarrassing childhood photos."

"There are none," he says distractedly, eyes skimming wildly over the pages. "They wouldn't've stood for any photos that were embarrassing."

Ah, so it is helping. "Not even one?" she asks, and juggles the stack until she gets to the bottom folder and slides out the picture inside.

This is the piece de resistance, the thing that finally made the file complete enough to hand over; this is the thing she had to go all the way to East Blue to get in person. She holds it out delicately, by the edges, and waits until he looks up.

His eyes catch on it and he freezes . "Wha—" he says, and then his voice fails him.

The look on his face is worth every second this took, right up until his eyes roll up, his knees give out, and the bastard honest-to-god swoons into a faint right in front of her.

She stares blankly at his prone body and swears. That's not really the reaction she was going for.

But Sabo is nothing if not dramatic, and he proves that by sleeping for the next three days. Koala checks on him constantly and swears at him for most of it. "If you didn't like it, you could have just said so, " she tells him, checking his forehead. Seems his fever's broken, but he's been tossing and turning, making noise like he's having a nightmare, and that's not how Sabo sleeps.

Sabo sleeps light, still and in short bursts, mostly, or more rarely, deeply and sprawled everywhere, but he never makes noise.

She sits in the chair beside the bed to do her paperwork-and some of his, too-just to keep an eye on things. It'd be very much a Sabo thing to do, to die in his sleep at their base just to be contrary.

Then again, that only applied if Sabo was ever going to die. Which he wasn't, Koala knew, because Sabo had a spine of pure hatred and spite for blood, and he'd kill death itself before leaving his mission unfinished.

She's not there when he does wake up. She's off making arrangements, and when she hears, she goes still, eyes closing, and she breathes out for what feels like the first time in days. It's an entire second of weakness before she opens her eyes and says, "Good. I want this ready for us to set sail in two hours, then."

"Yes sir," one of the planning guys says, snapping a salute so smart he nearly knocks himself over.

She's already turning, though, and when she gets to Sabo's room, she pauses a second outside the door to control her breathing. Then she opens the door and leans casually against the frame.

Sabo's sitting on what used to be the bed before he repurposed it as a desk. There's papers everywhere, and piles of notebooks, ones that she recognizes from Sabo's private collection. "Wow," she says. "Morning, workaholic."

He ignores the jab and looks up at her with slightly wild eyes and extremely wild hair. "I forgot Ace," he says blankly. "I forgot Luffy."

"Didn't like your brithday present then?" she asks mildly, and his hands tighten around the folder he's holding. "Maybe you'll like the second part better. C'mon, sleeping beauty. We're going on a field trip."

He doesn't ask where they're going. He clearly wants to but he keeps the question behind his teeth because his curiosity apparently does not outweigh giving Koala the satisfaction.

She takes great satisfaction from it anyway.

"This is eating you up inside, isn't it?" she asks, and the grin on her face is entirely self satisfied.

"Not at all," he says pleasantly. "It's about the journey, after all."

"You're so full of shit," she says, but she's laughing.

"At least I'm in good company."

"I'm the best company you could ever ask for, and don't you forget it."

"I dunno, I've met some real nice sea kings," he muses.

"Most of them wanted to murder you."

"Yeah, but so do you, so it's still even."

"Only sometimes," she demurs, and then, "We're here."

He looks up, taking in the whole island, smiles slightly, and says, "How nice. It's a very lovely island. I've always wanted to visit…here."

She doesn't mean to roll her eyes, really—it's an ingrained response at this point. "You don't even know what this island is called," she accuses.

"Do too!"

He clearly does not, but it's also not worth fighting right now. "It's not the island, anyway; it's what's on it."

He tucks his hands behind his back and leans down just enough to grin upways and sideways at her, the super obnoxious tell of him hiding annoyance. "And, pray tell, what is it on this island that we've come to see?"

"Oh, you'll like it a lot," she says grinning. "It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"No, you hate having to wait to know things. You love surprises."

He looks away, helping her haul the cutter into the hidden cove. What he really hates is how well she knows him, but she knows that too.

She battens the ship down while he ties it up, and he stands, stretches, and looks around.

It's a summer island, nice and temperate, and they're just off the beaten path; there's a village on the other side of the hill they're tucked into, and she leads the way through the forest easily.

They hit the outskirts of the town and Sabo blinks. The architecture here is fascinating; it's a mix of old-world classicism and neon colors that are just short of eye-searing. It's ugly as hell and absolutely tasteless, but it's certainly fascinating.

"Please tell me it's not the architecture," he says anyway. "Though I think I've seen it before, haven't I? Mission report….hmm, a few months ago; Team Gamma, I think?"

She slides him a sideways glace and says mildly, "You'd know better than me." He's downplaying his memory; he could recite a whole load of details from any mission report if he needed to and she knows it. Her specialty is analysis, not retention, but his memory is eidetic and terrifying.

None of that is relevant, though, and he paces her through the outskirts and into the town proper. "Is this for work?" he asks, eyes on the locals.

"Don't you ever turn off?" she asks, and he hums and doesn't answer, which is fair because it's not like she does either.

Vacations are not for the likes of them, and his frustration comes out in the corners of his eyes and the twitches of his fingers. His mouth sets and his chin raises a fraction, and she knows he's not going to ask.

"Have we got time to eat?" he asks, eyes on a restaurant on the other side of the square, and she sighs.

It's not that he's hungry, even though he probably is; he uses food as a distraction and cover just as often as he means it. Still, she squints up at the sky, over to the harbor, and says, "Yeah, probably. But you're paying."

He flutters one hand on his chest like he's wounded, and he says, "You drag me all the way here, only to make me pay? That's rather rude."

"Shouldn't the gentleman pay? Isn't that the way it works?"

"Yeah, it is—but I'm no gentleman."

"That's certainly true."

"Hey! You weren't supposed to agree with me!"

"And you weren't supposed to be an idiot. Guess we're both disappointed."

"Well, I do so hate to disappoint a lady," he says, holding the door open for her and bowing obnoxiously. "My treat."

She lifts her chin and sails past him, taking the obsequence as her due instead of his sarcasm. It's also why she sees them first.

Because there they are, a handful of Whitebeards, and she can't see the one she's looking for but he's clearly there. The pile of dirty dishes and mountain of food prove that just fine.

"Table for two?" the hostess says, already reaching for menus, and Koala waves her off and blows by without stopping.

"We're joining our party," she says, making a beeline right for the too-long, too-full table at the back. They're loud and noisy and it's easy enough to slide in without anyone noticing. "Hey," she says to the person she's sitting next to, all tall and ruffles and wild hair. "Pass me the pitcher?"

The pitcher is handed over by, unless she misses her guess, Commander Haruta, and she grins and pours herself a cup of the shit beer that's going around. By the time she's set it back down, Haruta's clocked that she's not supposed to be here. "Thanks," Koala says, cutting her eyes up and grinning.

"You're welcome," Haruta says. "And you're who now?"

"No one important," she says. "Just a delivery girl."

"Mmhmm, and what are you delivering?"

"A birthday present," she says, and makes ta da hands. "I brought you—oh, mou! Where's he gone?"

They both look around, and Haruta says, "You mean the blue guy hyperventilating over in the corner?"

"Yeah," Koala says, staring at him. "Yeah, that's him. I can't believe he's this dumb. Ugh, hold this for me?" She hands off the beer she hasn't even tasted yet and gets back up.

"Sure thing," Haruta says, setting the glass down and getting up to follow her.

Haruta has the decency to hang back and not be obvious about it, so Koala has the decency to ignore the mild stalking. "Hey," she says instead, making sure her boots click across the floor so he hears her coming. "Hey, you okay?"

"I can't—" he says, looking up, and there's something on his face she's never seen, not through all their missions and years—terror. "He's—I can't—"

Oh, shit, was this a bad idea? This may have been a bad idea. "Hey," she says firmly, because at this point they can't go home so she may as well go big. "Hey, it's okay. He's just gonna punch you a bit, and maybe cry on you, and then you can stop all this—feelings shit."

"No—I left ! I, he—"

"Stop that right now," she says, grabbing his chin and forcing him upright. She's not gentle, but she's breathing deep and even and predictably, and he follows it instinctively. "I may not know him but I sure as shit know you . If he loves you, he'll forgive you. You owe this to him and yourself, and—and to Luffy."

It's a bit of a gamble, but Sabo always works so much harder for others than for himself and he's more than willing to cut away at his own heart to protect those few he loves. If she can make this about them… .

"I owe him," Sabo repeats, and his eyes are still wild but his shoulders are straightening out. "Yeah, yes, I do; I owe him this. I should…apologize, maybe…."

He doesn't sound convinced but Koala's been gathering this intel for years now and she's pretty sure Ace is going to forgive him whether he apologizes or not. "Okay, great, then go do it," she says, and manhandles him around to start shoving him towards the table. "Just go, I don't know, say hi or steal his food or however you make friends."

"That's how you make friends," he says but it's a hollow attempt at projection, and a lie besides.

Haruta's somehow already back at the table with three fresh beers, watching them approach. Koala ditches Sabo a few steps away and squirms back through the chaos to the seat that's still mysteriously still free for her. "Thanks," she says again, leaning over to pick up the glass furthest away and taking a blatant, purposeful sip.

Her eyebrows fly up and she hums. "This is good," she says, glancing between the glass and the pitcher. It's not the same beer.

"You're welcome," Haruta says again, face mild but eyes on Sabo. "So, whose birthday is it?"

"His," she admits; it's enough days off that she's comfortable saying so. "But the present's for us as well; this is gonna be a great show."

"You brought your own entertainment?"

"Only half of it."

Haruta doesn't ask, just hums and takes a drink, and Koala grins, a wide, wild grin she stole right off Sabo's face. It's always so fun to talk to someone who plays conversations like games, like puzzles.

They both watch Sabo follow her lead and slide his way into the shifting morass of Commanders and crew until he's close enough to duck in past Commander Thatch, and he stuttersteps around Marco the Phoenix's blind spot, pauses behind the mountainous mass of Commander Vista, and fetches up right across from the Commander of the Second Division, Portgas D "Fire Fist" Ace.

"He's gonna get punched," Haruta murmurs as Sabo's eyes flicker on Ace's motions, and then he takes a deep breath and Koala can almost see him counting off one-two-three-and- and he reaches out and snags a meatball right off Ace's moving fork.

"Yeah, probably," she agrees, resting her chin on one upturned hand and settling in to watch the show.

Ace's fork has stopped moving, and so has Ace. The stillness radiates out a bit as people notice that the indefatigable appetite of their brother has been put on pause. The only exception is Sabo, popping the meatball into his mouth and chewing.

"Oh shit," Commander Thatch says quietly, and Sabo swallows, grins, and reaches for Ace's plate again.

Ace has gone stony-faced and his fork comes back into play, stabbing down towards Sabo's gloved hand. Sabo grabs for it, catching Ace's wrist, and Ace drops the fork to twist his hand free, and from there it's a quick exchange that's only slightly too well practiced to be a slap-fight.

Sabo lets Ace snatch the fork, makes a swipe for Ace's beer, and when Ace slaps both hands down on top of it to hold the glass in place, Sabo snags his entire plate.

"You're dead," Ace says, hands still on his beer and staring at the victorious-little-shit grin Koala knows far too well.

Sabo picks up another meatball with his fingers, the heathen . "M'not," he says with his mouth full, and Koala sighs.

Ace rises to his feet, pointing across the table, and hollers, "You're dead!"

"You'd better run," Thatch tells Sabo, and Sabo's grin gets just a bit sharper.

"I'm good," he says to Thatch without looking away from Ace. "And not dead."

Thatch thinks it's a threat, Koala realizes, and looks around to where several crew members have hands on weapons and everyone is on edge.

Ace's hands curl into fists. "I saw you die!"

Sabo hums, nods, and says, "If you couldn't kill me, what makes you think a little bit of fire could?"

"You blew up!" Ace yells at him, and Sabo snorts and waves this off as irrelevant.

Koala leaves her partner to his idiocy and nudges Haruta in the ribs. "Hey," she says, and pulls out the folder she's been careful not to bend. "Wanna see something secret and embarrassing?"

Haruta leans in, grinning, and says, "I like you, delivery girl. Show me."

Koala flips open the folder, takes out the picture, and slides it over.

The sound Haruta makes is high and excited and quickly stifled. "Oh my god, is this baby Ace?"

And just like that, all the attention is on them, even Ace and Sabo's. "Oh," Sabo says quietly, staring at her with wide eyes. "Oh no."

"It is," she says with great pleasure. "Look at the three of them. Isn't it precious?"

"What the shit is that," Ace says, and at Sabo's quiet, despairing sigh, Ace's eyes cut to him.

"Remember that time Gramps brought us matching outfits?"

"Oh," Ace says, sitting down hard and staring at her with wide eyes. "Oh no."

"Look at the hats ," Haruta coos. "Look at that smile."

"Hi," Thatch says across the table from her, and she looks up to find a hand outthrust. "I'm Thatch."

"I'm charmed," she says, and gives him her hand and a sparkling smile.

"You're charm ing ," he corrects, and bows over her hand quickly but perfectly, no kiss or complement or anything. "Where did you get Ace's baby pictures? And do you have more?"

She raises the folder and is instantly the most popular person at the table.

"What," Ace says from the other side of the mob of Commanders, and Sabo sighs.

"That's Koala," he says. "She's here to ruin our lives."

"And this one," Koala says, louder than necessary, "is from when they tried to make a cake for the first time."

"Okay, nope, that's-nope, we're done," Ace says, and elbows his way through the crowd. He reaches for the folder and Koala takes a step back as Haruta slides in between them.

"Koala is my new best friend," Haruta says cheerfully. It's extremely threatening.

"Weren't you going to take Sabo outside and punch him a bit?" Koala asks, flipping through the folder for her personal favorite. "Look, Makino caught them sleeping-"

There is a chorus of aw s and Sabo turns to Ace. "C'mon," he says. "We're going outside so you can punch me in the face. It's gotta be less painful than this."

"Is it okay to leave her here-?"

"The only thing she'll do is ruin your dignity, and it's not like you had any to start with-hey, ow!"

"Bye, boys!" Koala calls, waving as Ace drags Sabo outside by the coat. "Have fun!"

"We're keeping you," Thatch says. "I'm so glad you exist. Tell me everything ."

"Only if you share in exchange."

"Of course," Thatch says. "It would be our-"

"Hang on, now; let's not be hasty," Haruta says, elbowing Thatch to one side. "Tell me, delivery girl, are you here for work or for family?"

"Isn't that the same thing?" she wonders aloud, which is in no way an answer.

Haruta is watching her with narrow eyes, so she smiles and says, "Our brothers are apparently brothers. That makes us family, in an extended kind of way."

"You are my favorite little sister," Thatch immediately claims, sliding back in front of Haruta. "I will tell you all the stories of Ace being dumb if you tell us more about your guy."

"Deal," Koala says, and sticks out her hand to shake on it. "It's important for family to stick together."

There's a whump and a crash and a bang-bang-BANG from outside, and they all look that way. "Speaking of," Marco says wryly. "I'll be right back."

"So, hey," Koala says, reminded. "D'you know they have a little brother?"

"Luffy, right?" Haruta says. "Strawhat?"

"That's the one," she agrees. "He's passing by a few islands away. Mind if I borrow your boy for a bit?"

"I have learned more about Ace in the past ten minutes than in the past year," Thatch tells her frankly. "I am absolutely tagging along."

"Same," Haruta says. "A short vacation would do me good. Hey, maybe we'll just detour the Moby Dick. I bet Pops would love to meet an up-and-comer like the Strawhats."

"You can't just drop our entire crew on an unsuspecting newbie," Thatch protests.

"You absolutely can," Koala says. "Luffy put up with those two for years," and she tilts her head towards the front of the restaurant. The light coming in the window has been moving oddly for the past little bit, which is a pretty good indication that something large and nearby is on fire.

Thatch makes a thinking face, then nods. "Yeah, okay, fair. Anyone who can grow up with Ace can deal with our crew."

"Is this a good idea?" Haruta wonders out loud, not addressing the comment to anyone in particular but turning expectant eyes Koala's way.

She throws back her head and laughs. "Probably not," she says, and grins. "But it'll make my family happy, so I'm gonna do it anyway."