“Meu amorzinho! (My little love!) Are you almost ready for school?!” a light feminine voice rang throughout a modest two-story house.
A beautiful woman with strawberry blond hair stood at the foot of the stairs, a hand on the rail and the other brushing down the skirt of her white dress.
“Meu amorzinho!” the woman yelled, her voice matching the one that rang out earlier. Her grey eyes were hidden by her eyelids as she closed them in exasperation. Her freckled nose scrunched as she opened her pick lips to yell again.
“Sim mãe! (Yes mom!) I will be down!”
The woman smiled lightly at the slightly off English, but still turned to head into the kitchen with a light hop in her step. Her son’s voice often made her as happy as a school girl.
The son in question was upstairs in his room, which was just big enough, standing in front of a full length mirror and scowling at his reflection.
His light grey eyes, that matched his mother, flicked down from the long shaggy black hair, the dark face mask that covered his nose, mouth, cheeks, and ears. A tight black turtleneck covered by a baggy dark grey long-sleeved button-up followed as his light eyes continued flicking down.
“Inútil. (Worthless.)” His gruff voice echoed aloud.
Darkened eyes took in the too slim waist and the black baggy cargo pants, before the slim eyes landed on his black and silver combat boots. With a sneer his eyes trailed back to the thick leather gloves that wrapped up the hands lying limply at his side.
The boy let out an audible sigh before he took down the large goggles off of his dresser, slipping them on with a long repeated movement. Then he tucked his loose hair into his turtleneck before slipping on the black beanie that covered up the tips of his ears and the last remaining sliver of showing skin.
“Outro dia, outra dor, Ace. (Another day, another pain, Ace.)” He said to himself, as he said every morning when he had to leave the safety of his house.
Grabbing the always packed backpack, Ace was on his way out the door and down the stairs in short order, his muffled voice yelling out a greeting to his mother. As he did every morning.
“Bom dia mãe. (Good morning, mother.)” The teen placed his covered lips against his mother’s cheek, bracing himself, but still jolted at the rush of love, affection, sincerity, and worry that waved through him.
“Bom dia meu filho. Todo vestido? (Good morning, my son. All dressed?)” she spoke back, her eyes twinkling as she watched her son lower his face mask to take a big bite of her breakfast.
“Sim, apesar de ainda não entender por que tenho que ir à escola. Você e o pai estavam indo bem. (Yes, though I do not understand why I have to go to school. You and father were doing fine.)” Ace grumbled as he took another bite of his spicy eggs, smiling lightly at the taste his mom’s piri-piri*. Few things made him smile these days so he was glad for the sauce.
“Speak in English darling one. You need to get some more practice in. Maybe the kids at school will lay off if you stop forgetting words?” the woman turned from the stove, plopping another bolo lêvedo** onto his plate while motioning to the side for the piri-piri she bottled earlier in the week.
“Also you have been attending school for over a year now. Are you going to continue asking why you have to attend every morning?”
She frowned and watched as Ace slowed his eating, his head turned slightly to indicate his discomfort with her statements.
“Inglês é difícil, por que tenho que saber isso? (English is difficult, mom. Why do I have to know it?)” Ace’s cheeks puffed and his mother giggled, smiling as she looked at her son with fondness before being distracted by her yawing husband walking out of their room.
“Bom dia xodó! (Good morning dear***)” the man exclaimed, pulling the woman to his side as he placed a loud kiss onto her cheek, his wife giggling the whole time.
“Manhã, velho. (Morning, old man.)” Ace spoke through a full mouth, his father smiling at his son with a look of fondness.
“Manhã yourself, you brat!”
“Roger! Don’t call your son a brat!” the mother yelled while smacking her husband on the shoulder. The tall black haired man with a rather elaborate mustache smiled at his wife, kissing her again on the forehead before speaking.
“But, Rouge!! He started ittttt!!”
“You are the adult!!”
“Do not but me!!” Rouge smacked the man again, this time with the spatula in her hand, sliding Ace another bolo lêvedo shortly after she did so.
“Mãe e pai são tão nojentos. (Mom and dad are so gross.)” Ace spoke again, his head tilted as he scarfed down the last biscuit. Roger laughed loudly but Rouge couldn’t help but glare at her son.
“Mas mãe!! (But mom!!)”
“No buts from you either, young man!! Start practicing your English!!”
“Come on, Rouge. We raised him to be a good Português man! Speaking Português is good!” Roger laughed, swiping one of the other finished bolo lêvedo and dancing away before his wife could smack him again.
“Ace goes to an English school! He could speak Português all he wants if he could speak English just as well!! But he cannot! So he must practice!” Rouge scowled much like her son tended to do as she placed his packed lunch next to him.
Ace winced a bit as she did, her proximity giving him a blast of irritation, worry, and love. He hoped that his mother was too irritated to notice his physical reaction, but there was no such thing when it came to Rouge and her son.
“Oh I’m sorry, darling. I did not mean to get too close…” Rouge’s grey eyes shifted downward and Roger wrapped her up in one of his strong arms, trying to comfort his wife. Though it never really worked, no matter how much both males hoped it would.
“It is fine, mãe. I was just…uh…shocked?” Ace stumbled over his words, trying to find the right one, he glanced over at his father’s face, judging it to see if maybe he got it right this time?
“Shocked is good, meu filho, but maybe surprised would work better?”
Although Roger often corrected Ace’s confusion, it always came with a feeling of regret and understanding. Two feelings the son rather disliked when they were paired together.
“I-I will go to school. I will try to…to English better. Tonight, I will see you, mãe. Velho.” Ace pulled up his mask as he spoke, muffling the end of his chopped sentence. He stood and placed his plate in the sink, pressing his covered lips to his mother’s cheek once more and shuddering with the sheer amount of worry he could feel, without skin contact. She must be really worried for him if he could feel that much while completely covered.
Ace took off shortly after, barely sparing a second look to either of his parents; his backpack was slung over one shoulder and his lunch box in hand.
Roger and Rouge shared a look of equal worry before they started preparing for their own day.
“I wish we could have kept him away from all the people longer.” Rouge sighed, removing the white apron from atop her dress, hanging it over the oven handle as she started picking up the dishes from breakfast.
A sigh escaped her husband as he started to assist her with the cleaning, scowling to himself every now and then.
“That would have ended up badly, my darling. He still feels so much even though his skin is covered. He’s getting stronger, and after seventeen years of just our emotions, and Luffy’s on occasion, he needs to learn how to deal with more than that. We…we cannot keep him secluded forever…”
“It would have been better if I never accepted that stupid flower when I was young. It is…it is mostly my fault Ace was born with his abilities…” Rouge teared up a bit before she shook her head and shrugged her husband’s hand off her shoulder.
“It is just as much my fault, xodó. If I had not messed around with those illegal things when I was young…or have been so involved with so many other Dotado (gifted)…”
Both adults sighed and shared a light kiss of shared pain.
“Well we can be glad that it manifested so early…we could at least help him develop coping mechanisms…and he only has one dom (ability)…most double Dotado parented children end up with two or more…” Roger tried to make them both feel a bit lighter, but it didn’t do much. It just reminded them that it could still get worse for their son.
“Well, let us…let us hope that his final year at Grand Line will bring him some…some Dotado friends…”
Ace hated the Grand Line.
It was a fancy school, for fancy kids, with their fancy parents, and their fancy powers, and their stupid beliefs.
Everyone there was a Dotado or was related to one. They all had stories of cool super heroes, and magical men and women who started out as magical boys and girls. It was annoying how utterly naïve they all were, only thinking about the mainstream concept of their dom.
No one there had a power they couldn’t turn on or off.
Ace hated it.
He was born with a dom. Like most “supers” as the falantes de inglês (English speakers) called it. But unlike most “supers” he had a power more like the “gifts” that magical people got, from a magical animal, mentor, or otherwise.
Empathy was a curse.
Sure having the normal amount of it was fine. Being able to understand others was a grand skill to have, but not when it was enhanced.
Ace could feel what others felt, could feel it as if it was his own emotion and that scared him a lot. How much of his emotions were actually determined by the people around him?
Wearing layers helped because the empathy was worse when skin contact was initiated or held, he could feel it more when his skin was exposed to the air that touched others.
It was a curse, and no one could tell him any different.
Grand Line was also horrible because it was uma escola de Inglês (an English school)! Ace didn’t start learning Inglês until he was fifteen. He had barely two years under his belt, so other people were hard to understand.
Slang was hell.
It might be why he had so few conhecidos (acquaintances).
That or the fact that Ace never showed up to Grand Line without covering every single bit of his skin. His empathy was muted a bit more when no skin was showing, and that made him the monstro (monster) of the school.
Ace might not understand Inglês as well as his peers did, but he knew enough to know that that was what people called him. The Monster.
Why else would he hide his body? If he wasn’t a monstro?
Shaking his head, Ace continued walking to school.
The lugar terrível (dreadful place) was well over a forty-five minute walk, but Ace wouldn’t chance being in an enclosed metal tube with so many people and their emotions just for a shorter commute. Besides, the walk kept him healthy and gave him time to prepare for the long day of emotions that weren’t his.
A loud honking shocked Ace out of his musings and he jumped out of the road just in time to see a bright blue corvette zoom past, the blond passenger waving apologetically.
Ace could feel his cheeks lighting up in a blush as he recognized the passenger and the driver.
Sabo Outlook and Marco Newgate.
The Blue Gentleman and the Phoenix.
The most well-known superhero and magical “boy” currently in existence. The strongest fighters in the war on villains. The smartest pair in school. The best working duo in the school. The power couple.
Everyone knew them. Knew their names, their dom, their relationship…they were everywhere.
And they were the reason why Ace sometimes wished he wasn’t so socially stupid. He would give anything to be able to hold a conversation with either of them, that didn’t start with “here” and end with “thank you”.
Even that was a bit much for him. His face would heat and he’d have a hard time trying to figure out why he couldn’t say more than a single word without feeling more tongue tied than normal. Mãe would call it a quedinha (crush), but velho would probably call it saudades (the longing feeling****).
Ace called it the only bright point in his dark life. The two always had very wholesome emotions, not pressing, or dark, or obsessive, but very light and nice to experience. Not to mention the absolute love they felt towards each other was something to be admired.
The only people Ace had ever felt that much love in were his own parents, who loved each other and him so much it was a bit pressing.
“Pare com isso, feio. Eles estão felizes. Ninguém precisa de você. (Stop it, ugly. They are happy. No one needs you.)” He whispered to himself quietly, trudging on towards the school with a dark cloud over his head.
His empathy was also weak, not that he thought about it. He could feel other people’s emotions to a severe extent, but he couldn’t do anything with that. If anything it hindered him more than it was useful. He’d be a horrible super hero. Which was mostly why he wasn’t one.
Besides people were…not worth his time. They didn’t understand, no one understood. No one takes time from focusing on themselves to see how those around them suffer.
But Ace did. He always did. He didn’t have a choice.
Ace could feel his jaw start to tremble and immediately started to think about something unrelated. About mãe and her cooking, and about Luffy and how he was coming to visit soon, bringing with him his magical boyfriend.
He was mixed about that last part. Ace was unsure if he wanted to feel happy for Luffy finding someone to focus on him, or angry that someone would dare date his precious cousin, his maninho (baby bro), without asking him if it was okay.
But he’d meet the ladrão (thief) soon enough and he would be able to tell whether or not the man was enough for his super hero maninho.
Shaking his head lightly, missing the feeling of his hair tickling his skin, Ace refocused on trying to ignore all the foreign emotions that would bombard him.
True enough, once he was a few minutes from the private campus, an overwhelming excitement pressed in on Ace’s brain. He flinched and touched his covered temple with his leathered hand. Closing his eyes and breathing into the face mask that was laced with passionflower, chamomile, and ashwagandha.
Mãe was a genius when it came to forcing calm on her son, and every night she soaked his face masks in the mixture, hoping to ease Ace’s discomfort at school.
“Outro dia, outra dor. Outro dia, outra dor, Ace. (Another day, another pain. Another day, another pain, Ace.)” The empathetic teenager started chant to himself as he walked up the steps to the gigantic school building.
His classroom wasn’t too far off from the front of the building, and Ace was early enough that there was no one in it. So he headed straight there, finding it easier to keep out all the foreign feelings when he could focus on pushing them out one person at a time.
Ace was hardly surprised when Dadan greeted him at the door, in her own way. She was his homeroom and “Magical” History professor, which was shocking with how truly gruff she is. Surprisingly she knew magical history very well, which was why she taught the honors class.
Dadan was only one of two people who knew Ace’s dom. Her and the principal, one Edward Newgate, or Whitebeard as he prefers. Also, Marco the Phoenix’s adopted father. He was pretty nice as far as falantes de inglês (English speakers) went.
“Your seat is in the back, you brat. Don’t interrupt class if you need to leave. Same rules as always.” Dadan’s voice was very different from a tom de mãe (mom’s voice). Not a light lilt, but deeper and more similar to gravel than his mother’s.
“Obrigado, velha bruxa. (Thank you, old hag.)” Ace felt his mouth twitch into a smirk as his voice was muffled by the cloth.
The fluffy red-head scowled at him and pointed to the back left desk, the one along the wall that had the door into the class. At least if he had to sneak out to re-center himself, he could do so relatively stealthily.
“Stop speaking Portuguese in here, you brat. Your mom wants you to practice English. I may understand you well enough, but you can’t make friends if others don’t know what you’re saying.” She turned to her desk and started organizing papers, but even if she was looking at Ace she would not have seen his scowl.
“Thanks I say. Inglês not simple.” Ace was able to get enough of a sentence out. And Dadan laughed loudly, as she often did.
“Thanks I said, you brat. And no, it isn’t. Better than learning Chinese though, ain’t it.”
Shuffling to his seat, Ace scowled deeper, trying to understand the end of Dadan’s sentence. The woman knew he had difficulties with slang, and contractions but she used them anyway.
“If no contractions, maybe easier.”
“Missing a few verbs there.”
“HAHAHAHAHA. You sure learned the curses fast enough, moleque atrevido (cheeky brat).” Ace smirked a bit at that and couldn’t say otherwise. His father liked to curse in Inglês when Ace was younger so of course he learned them faster.
“Culpa do pai, velha bruxa. (Blame dad, old hag.)”
The onslaught of a wave of annoyance and hate stopped their conversation entirely as Ace placed a hand on his head, slowly sitting in his desk.
It was the valentão (bully).
Ace never learned his name, Dadan never told him, and he never wanted to know. All he knew was that the guy had some sort of hate against Ace or something else negative and tried everything he could to embarrass him.
The valentão wasn’t very good at it. He came up with some interesting ideas, but they never did anything to Ace, not like they would to a normal person.
The anger and annoyance swiftly changed to sadistic glee that Ace was very well attuned to.
“Hey freak. Another day of trying to imitate Darth Vader? Don’t you ever get tired of being such a nerd?” he meant it to be hurtful, but there was nothing wrong with dressing as a favorite character. But maybe only Darth Vader after he half redeemed himself with Luke…he wasn’t a nice man before that. Ooh or maybe Anakin? He was relatively good before he turned into a paranoid nut.
Apparently facing the valentão without moving was the equivalent of staring blankly. At least to the outside people, Ace honestly just zoned.
“Don’t stare at me with that face of yours!! PRICK!!”
“Oi. Sit the fuck down you brat. Stop yelling in my classroom.” Dadan whirled around and hissed at the boy. She wouldn’t let out to anyone that she was a ‘friend’ to Ace and his family, but she would do her best to divert attention.
The valentão let out a squeak and sat down in his chair towards the middle of the classroom. No one was not afraid of Dadan. Except Ace…and Sabo and Marco…but they were different. They weren’t scared of anyone.
Ace’s face heated up and he slammed his head onto his desk, taking his mind off of the dreamy couple by cycling outside emotions through his mind then back out again.
The annoyance and hatred turned into joy and stress and anxiety and hope and desire and those weird feelings that Ace hated putting terms to because they were gross and unwanted.
He had to work to stifle the groan that wanted to come out as the overflow of emotions made his literal body shake. Ace was never so glad that everyone tended to ignore him than when he has issues controlling his empathy.
Luckily, the overwhelming feeling of love and adoration started to block out all of the others and now Ace had to stop himself from sighing happily at the feeling. He really would like to let it out, but that was counterproductive to everything he was practicing.
So he stayed quiet, but lifted his head to watch as the power couple entered the classroom.
They really did match well. Together. And not with him. Just each other.
As it should be.
Sabo loved the Grand Line.
His boyfriend was there. His boyfriend’s father was the headmaster. He had a nice chunk of really good friends. He could more or less do as he pleased because of his status. The school didn’t have any problems so Sabo could relax for once, when he was normally on edge and ready to transform at any given moment.
The blonde’s life had really changed ever since he accepted his hat.
Like most Magical Children, he was given an easy to hide item that helped him to transform into a hero to protect innocents. His was given to him by a monkey named Lufay, and although the magical animal has long since moved on to find new heroes, his memory lives strong in Sabo.
And so does his top hat pin that turns him into the Blue Gentleman.
Enhanced strength, increased healing, faster processing, and a rather snazzy outfit. It all combined to make Sabo into one of the most well-known Magical Children of his generation. And it came with a love interest.
Marco Newgate. Marco the Phoenix.
Other than becoming the Blue Gentleman, he was the best thing to ever happen to the wayward son of a city noble.
Being an amazing Magical Child helped eased the way for the fact that he was one of the few Magic Children of his generation. It was rare that there were any new generations of Magical Children these days. Most came about because their magical item was passed down from a parent.
His parents were normals. They didn’t have hero powers and they didn’t have a magical item, and they liked it that way. The two wanted Sabo to follow in their footsteps, to be normal and be proud that they were the ones being saved all the time.
Sabo didn’t want that life. He wanted to help, wanted to do some good in the world. Which was how Lufay found him in the first place.
As one of the few magical animals still alive with magic items, Lufay tried to find a new Magical Child at least every five years. He found Sabo when the blond was eleven, a little over six years ago. The monkey had departed sometime after the Magic Child’s third year as the Blue Gentleman, and right after Sabo found Marco.
Marco and Sabo didn’t mesh right away, as was common when it came to Magic Children and heroes. But after a year of fighting the same villains? They sort of fell into their friendship and then their relationship, and Sabo would really not have it any other way.
“Hey, Goggles. You’re zoning out on me again.”
Sabo smiled brightly as Marco’s rough voice played around in his ears. The dulcet tones really just made the shorter blond incredibly happy. It was nice to have a happy life after his childhood with the most unsupportive parents in the world.
“Oh yeah, Beaky? Prove it!” Sabo laughed as he danced out of the reaching arms that were aiming to grab him around the waist.
Thus began a chase that started almost every morning, Sabo or Marco saying something ridiculously witty, the other responding, and then one chasing after the other. It was a nice routine for both blonds as it solidified in them the fact that they were at school, a place where they didn’t have to be their personas.
“Oioi!! Love birds!! Knock it off!! Some of us are tryin’ ta wolk hea!!” hearing the badly done Boston accent, both Sabo and Marco stopped their chase and stared back at Marco’s adopted brother, Thatch.
Off red hair, a bright white blazer and matching pants, the beginnings of a goatee, and a lovely man hanging off his arm; Thatch always did look the same.
“Your Boston accent is deplorable, yoi. Save it for people who don’t know you so well.” Marco deadpanned, taking the moment of stillness to wrap Sabo up in a bear hug.
A squeal from the scarred blond prompted laughter from everyone else.
Marco smiled almost too widely when he was faced with Sabo’s pouting face, he always thought it was adorable no matter how hard his boyfriend tried to prove otherwise.
Sensing a moment of distractedness, Sabo took advantage and planted his lips right onto Marco’s unmoving one. While Marco might have been surprised, he didn’t waste any time thinking about it and returned the gesture with his own.
“Oh gross. Izooooouuuu make them stoooop.”
The two blonds separated and looked at Thatch as he hid his face into the neck of his own boyfriend, smiling when the beautiful man smiled fondly before smacking the red-head.
“You are just as gross, darling, so you can’t say shit.”
Thatch puffed up his cheeks as he looked his man in the eye, but Izou was pretty much immune from the childishness and just gave him a raised eyebrow in return.
“Hey, speaking of odd phenomena, did anyone else hear anything about a visiting super hero and magical?” Sabo piped up, wiggling a little to signify to Marco that he’d like to be released. The other blond ignored him and instead buried his head into the back of Sabo’s neck.
A sigh was released but he did nothing further to try and shake off his boyfriend, so Sabo obviously didn’t mind that much.
Izou tilted his head to the side and shook out his long sleeved shirt, scowling when he remembered he wasn’t wearing his normal kimono because of school rules. Who had a rule about kimonos being forbidden anyway? Especially his own father.
“I want to say I did. But I honestly cannot remember with everything else we have been dealing with because of the start of the school year. Our last school year.”
“Oh yeah!! The end is finally here!! Gonna graduate with my main man, and my brother and his man and everything will be GREAT! SOCIETY HERE WE COME!!” Thatch was super excited to say the least, causing Marco and Sabo to chuckle as Izou let out a sigh and grabbed the red-head by his ear.
“Don’t ‘babe’ me, you moron. Let’s just get to class before anyone else sees you and your ridiculousness.”
Marco and Sabo watched the two until they entered the school grounds from the rather secluded outside eating area they were in. Thatch’s ow’s could be heard the whole time.
Finally releasing his boyfriend, Marco took Sabo’s hand in his own and smiled widely again, a light blush dusting the scarred blonde’s cheeks as he did so. The two started following in the steps of their friends, not really bothering to fill their silence. They were perfectly fine without words.
It was surprising that they were in the same class once again, the same room, the same teacher, the same students, it was almost as if they knew someone who could make it so…
Sabo really liked their class from last year. They knew everyone and not a single one of them was rude, or unaccepting, or anything. One complaint bubbled in his mind but it was one he’d never acted on or even considered acting on.
One weird kid in the back that never showed their face or their body isn’t a reason to change around a whole classroom after all. Some Asse kid or something. Probably the one person in the room that Sabo never properly learned the name of.
But then they never had a conversation, not even speaking beyond a “here” or a “thank you”, so it didn’t really mean anything. And their teacher wasn’t a fan of group projects anyway, so Sabo never truly had the chance to ask.
He must have had a thinking look on his face again, because Marco squeezed his hand right before they reached the door to their classroom.
Smiling up at his boyfriend, Sabo tugged their joint hands lightly and couldn’t help but laugh when Marco listened and leaned down for a kiss. See? No words needed.
Entering the room, the two blonds were greeted by their perpetually irritated teacher, and a practically full classroom. Sabo was about to look for their seats when Ms. Dadan spoke up and interrupted him.
“Outlook, left row, seat five. Newgate, second left row, seat five. Welcome back.”
Short and succinct as always, but it was something Sabo learned to appreciate after he heard tales about Thatch and Izou’s homeroom teacher. Anything was better than a man who spent more time talking about his husband and his almost-kid and his weekend plans. Sabo actually liked learning.
But his happy mood had to be thrown off track by something, it always did. Rarely could he stay completely content for more than an hour, and this jerking force came from the figure in the seat behind Sabo’s.
That weird kid.
He was completely covered, as always. Goggles, face mask, beanie, long sleeves, gloves, long pants, boots, the works. All varying shades of no color. It was half creepy. Mostly weird though.
An inaudible sigh, and another squeeze from Marco and Sabo started heading towards his seat, smile still in place.
Before he sat down though, he gave a bright smile to the weirdo and spoke his normally greeting.
“Good morning. I hope we have a good year again this year.”
Sabo waited patiently for a response, maybe he could put a specific voice pattern down in his notes, but the figure just nodded, before staying tilted down.
All he could do was shrug and sit in his own seat, smiling at Marco who tried to see if they could still hold hands across the aisle. They couldn’t.
The pout on his face was enough for Sabo to wish they could have skipped class and spent more time together, but they get plenty already and school is important. Besides…anything to keep the school from calling his “parents” and requiring he talk to them.
Sabo could not wait to move in with the Newgate’s…he just wished the courts could speed that process up a bit.
Said blond jolted in surprise, no longer looking at Sabo but now at Ms. Dadan and her angry face. Sheepishly, Marco gave out a loud “Here, yoi” and then started digging in his backpack for his supplies.
Ms. Dadan spoke a bit quieter this time, but Sabo still wanted to rub his ear at the volume…hey maybe roll call will be a good time to actually learn the weirdo’s name!
“Here!” He spoke happily, excited at the prospect of learning something he didn’t already know, after all that was the purpose of school right? Learning new things?
“Ace D. Portgas.”
Huh. Odd name, but Sabo happily scribbled it down in his notebook reserved for statistics about his classmates, better to know things than not. Besides, the kid had a serious “future villain” vibe going on and as the Blue Gentleman, he should keep his eyes on those.
The voice was barely there, but Sabo heard it, and he wanted to give “Ace” an odd look. Who spoke Spanish in class? Least of all in a class where everyone spoke English. Was the kid trying to stick out like a sore thumb?
Ms. Dadan gave a harsh glare to the fully covered weirdo, and while Sabo thought that would be enough for him to repeat his answer in English, he stayed quiet.
Sabo definitely needed to keep an eye out for that one.