The winds over the New World were heavy that morning — carrying the scent of salt, rain, and something unspoken.
The waves clawed at the hull of the Oro Jackson, but the legendary ship stood steady, a silhouette of quiet defiance amidst chaos.
Ada stood at the bow, her cloak drawn tightly around her shoulders, staring into the horizon where the sun fought to rise.
Her hand brushed absently over her abdomen — a fleeting, tender gesture that she quickly hid when footsteps approached.
"Ada," Mihawk's calm voice broke the silence. "We've mapped the next route toward Wano. Do we continue?"
Ada didn't answer right away. She could feel the faint flutter beneath her palm — the heartbeat of a secret she could not share.
When she finally spoke, her voice was steady. "No. I'll be leaving for a while."
That made the swordsman pause. Mihawk studied her, eyes narrowing slightly beneath his hat. "Leaving?"
"Yes." She turned to face the crew now gathering behind him — Bullet, Fisher Tiger, Enel, and a few others. Each of them carried the same expression. Confusion laced with quiet concern.
Ada met their gazes, one by one, her expression unreadable. "There are matters I need to handle personally. You'll remain here in the New World. Mihawk will lead until I return."
Bullet frowned. "You're just going to disappear? Again?" His tone carried frustration, but also loyalty. "We just started expanding our territories—"
Ada cut him off with a small smile. "Do you doubt me, Bullet?"
That single question silenced him. The crew knew better than to push further when she wore that calm smile — the one that promised she had everything under control.
Enel floated lazily nearby, arms crossed. "So mysterious. The mighty Emperor vanishes, and the world trembles again."
She glanced at him. "Try not to blow up any islands while I'm gone."
That earned a grin from the thunder god. "No promises."
Mihawk finally spoke again, more quietly this time. "Should we expect you back soon?"
Ada hesitated — the first sign of uncertainty she'd shown in years. "A few months," she said softly. "Keep the flag flying high. And…" She looked down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Take care of each other."
Mihawk nodded slowly, something unspoken passing between them. "As you wish, Captain."
Ada turned away before anyone could read the emotion in her eyes. The wind caught her cloak, lifting it like a banner as she descended to her smaller vessel. The sea parted before her, as if even the waves dared not hinder her path.
She didn't look back.
———————
The island where she landed three days later was nowhere on any map.
A small, forgotten strip of land covered in mist and stone, surrounded by waters so violent even sea kings avoided it.
It was their place — hers and Dragon's.
The same island where they had first spoken of dreams, of rebellion, of freedom.
And now… of something much more fragile.
As her ship touched the shore, a figure stood waiting beneath a canopy of rain.
Dragon's cloak rippled in the wind, his hood drawn low. The storm framed him perfectly — silent, powerful, and heavy with thought.
When Ada stepped onto the sand, their eyes met, and the storm seemed to quiet for a heartbeat.
"You came," Dragon said simply.
"I always do," Ada replied.
They stood in silence for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs the only witness to their reunion.
Then Dragon's eyes dropped — almost unconsciously — to her midsection. His gaze softened. "Four months," he murmured.
Ada nodded, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "You always were observant."
He stepped closer, careful but deliberate, his voice low. "How are you feeling?"
She crossed her arms, a deflective smirk returning. "Like I'm carrying a storm inside me."
Dragon exhaled, a quiet laugh escaping him — rare, and real. "That sounds about right."
They walked together toward the small cave they used as shelter. Inside, the air was warm, a fire already lit. It wasn't much, but it was theirs — a place that belonged to no one else, unseen by the world that hunted both of them.
As Ada sat, she removed her gloves, staring at the faint glow of the flames. "I haven't told my crew."
"I assumed," Dragon said, sitting across from her. "You wouldn't risk it."
"They'd worry," Ada replied quietly. "And I can't afford to look… vulnerable."
He watched her carefully. "You're not."
"Maybe," she said, eyes flickering to the fire. "But the world doesn't see strength the way we do, Dragon. They see weakness and strike it."
There was silence for a long moment. Then, softly, she said, "It's strange."
"What is?"
She looked up, her expression softened. "I've faced death more times than I can count. But now… for the first time, I'm afraid."
Dragon's eyes darkened with understanding. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. "Because of him?"
Ada nodded once. "Because of him."
The fire cracked between them, throwing light across her face. It was the first time he'd seen her look so human — not the Emperor, not the legend, just Ada.
A woman who carried the weight of a child and a world's expectations.
Dragon reached out slowly, his hand brushing hers. She didn't pull away.
"You don't have to face it alone," he said quietly.
She looked at him — really looked — and saw the man beneath the revolutionary. The one who once laughed with her under the stars, who shared her defiance and her fire.
"Dragon," she whispered. "You know we can't raise him together."
His jaw tightened. "Because of what we are?"
"Because of what the world will make of him," Ada said, voice steady now. "They'll hunt him before he's even born. The son of a revolutionary and an Emperor? They'd never let him live."
He was silent, but his eyes betrayed the war within him.
Then Ada reached into her cloak and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "I've been thinking," she said softly. "When the time comes… we entrust him to someone who can protect him."
Dragon frowned. "Who?"
"Your father," she said.
His eyes widened. "Garp?"
Ada nodded. "He's stubborn enough to keep him safe. Even from us."
Dragon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "He'll lose his mind when he finds out."
A small smile curved Ada's lips. "He already thinks you're insane. What's one more reason?"
That earned a small laugh from him — tired, but genuine.
Silence fell again, but it wasn't heavy this time. It was filled with the soft rhythm of the rain, the crackle of the fire, and the weight of two hearts quietly breaking for the sake of something greater.
Finally, Dragon stood, walking toward the cave's entrance. The storm outside had calmed, just slightly, enough for a faint silver light to filter in.
Ada followed, standing beside him as they watched the rain fade into mist.
"He'll change the world," Dragon said quietly.
Ada looked at him, eyes gleaming like lightning in the dark. "He'll be free."
There was no hesitation in her voice. Only certainty — the kind that could shatter empires.
Dragon turned to her then, and for a moment, the world fell away. The sea, the rain, the revolution — none of it mattered.
Only her.
He reached out, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Ada…"
She met his gaze, unflinching. "What?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he closed the distance between them.
The kiss was soft — hesitant at first, then deepened by the weight of everything unsaid.
The storm outside seemed to roar in approval, wind swirling around them like an oath whispered by fate itself.
When they finally parted, Ada's eyes glistened faintly, though her smile remained strong. "I'll be gone for a while," she murmured.
"I know," Dragon replied, his hand lingering at her cheek. "Just… don't disappear forever."
"I couldn't," she said. "You're too stubborn to let me."
He chuckled quietly, lowering his hand as the wind died down. "Go. Before the world starts wondering where its Emperor has gone."
Ada nodded. She stepped back, her cloak fluttering in the wind, and looked at him one last time.
"I'll send word when it's time," she said softly.
Dragon's expression softened. "Take care of yourself, Ada."
She smirked faintly — that same smirk that once made the seas tremble. "Always."
And with that, she turned, walking toward her ship as dawn broke over the horizon.
The mist closed behind her, swallowing her form until only her shadow remained.
Dragon stood there long after she was gone, the sound of the waves echoing like a heartbeat against the cliffs.
He placed a hand over his chest, where he could still feel her warmth lingering.
For the first time in years, the leader of the Revolution smiled — not for victory, not for freedom, but for something much rarer.
Hope.