Ace appeared at your window just past midnight, moonlight catching the curve of his reckless grin. He held out a hand—calloused, warm, daring—and the moment your fingers brushed his, the night snapped open like a fuse catching flame.

The escape was instant. One leap, then another, and suddenly you were racing across rooftops with the future Second Division Commander dragging you into chaos with the same enthusiasm most people reserve for breakfast. By dawn, you were on a stolen dinghy bouncing over waves, Ace laughing as sea spray hit his face like it was all part of the adventure.

Islands blurred by.Bonfires that crackled higher whenever he got excited. Starry skies that seemed to tilt closer just to watch you both.And trouble—of course—never more than a half-step behind: angry townsfolk, startled marines, and at one point a goat Ace swore started the fight.

But every time danger crept too close, he’d grab your wrist and pull you running again, the fire in him burning brighter than any torch chasing you.

At the final island, the two of you collapsed on a warm stretch of sand. Ace stretched out beside you, hands behind his head, gaze fixed on the stars like they were old friends.

After a long moment, he smirked sideways and murmured. “Heh… Guess freedom’s more fun when you steal someone to share it with.”