Water frothed in white, lacy blossoms at the belly of the boat- its rhythm disturbed greatly by the pounding rain and a swaying vessel. The night sky, previously clear, was now brushed over with bruised stormclouds- rolling over each-other in a fighting attempt to cry rain unto the sea below. The air was cold and biting, no longer lit by the pale grace of the icy stars, and the only heat erated from the ship that was currently on fire.
The atmosphere was nearly electrifying.
Acrid, metallic fumes of freshly fired gunpowder filled the hazy air, accompanied by a chorus of clashing swords and scuffling boots. Once in a while a pained yell could be heard over the clamor, or a beg for mercy, or perhaps laughter. The rain did nothing to lull the hot, stinging scent of blood; and merely pushed the scarlet sin down the foam-washed decks of the ship.
The ginger-haired boy drew a cutlass from the rope at his hip, the knotted fabric beginning to fray and welt his exposed skin. He didn't care though, or rather didn't pay attention to the rubbing pain, and continued on. He was lucky to have drawn his weapon when he did, as a large brute approached from the left. Thinking quickly, the teen utilized his cat-like reflexes and dipped his left elbow down, rolled over the curve of his own back, and plunged his short blade into the flesh of the other man's thigh.
Blood flowed loosely from the wound nearly on impact, staining the brute's leg with a hot, maroon sheen. The redhead could only grin in response before continuing on, keeping the silver hilt of his cutlass in a firm grip. He had been told to reach the top of the ship as quickly as possible, which had actually been quite difficult. The vessel they had boarded was petite yet well-built, with gloss-treated wood and thick, cloth mainsails spread from deeply rooted masts. The complications of its cable workings and deck spread also made it hard to reach the top level, as the base of the ship had become quite congested with battling men.
Rain blurred his vision as the boy looked desperately from side to side, teeth clenched in a grimace, as he searched for an opening hole. To either direction there was a breathing, live swath of combat- and there seemed to be no way of escape. He figured he would have to make his own way through, then, and gave a small grunt in retaliation to his own conclusion.
It wouldn't be too easy.
In his debate he failed to notice a rather hefty man approaching from the back, a tall and lanky guy by his side, both of them generously armed. The redhead's grip around his cutlass tightened, and his face paled of color, promoting a grin from the opposing pirates.
The beanpole-looking one lunged forward first, drawing a devilishly curved scimitar and thrusting his hand upwards. The blade nearly caught the ginger teen, yet luckily he had ducked under and only gotten the neckline of his garment torn. This wasn't the best solution either, though, as the tall pirate grabbed the back of the boy's neck and heaved him up. Panic shot through the ginger pirate, like a slithering snake with venomous fangs ready to bite. He made a pathetic attempt to struggle free, cutlass falling from his grip as he pushed and wriggled forward.
This was to no avail, though, and the pain only intensified as the scimitar-wielder wrapped a calloused hand across the redhead's rope belt. The knots began to tear at his skin, and he let out a small yelp. There was no way he was getting out of this one.
The other man's partner, the stocky one with a flintlock, had loaded his pistol and raised it even with the ginger's head. His grin was nothing else but sadistic, blackened teeth curved in a cheshire-like manner. The pirate tightened his caterpillar-like fingers around the trigger, and the redhead could only stare down the gunpowder-stained barrel of his fate.
He could've sworn he heard the flintlock fire.
Yet all of a sudden the younger pirate was being dropped, his own cutlass finding a 'comfortable' spot across his side, drawing a stinging, thin line of scarlet sin. His face hit the wet deck harder than he would've liked, head ringing painfully, as his whole body seemed to seize up. The only thing he could truly feel was the haze of rain beating cold against his back, and the sharp blade of his own weapon across his ribcage.
The pirate struggled to lift his head, hand slipping under his weak weight, cat-like eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to his new position. Over him stood another young boy, only slightly older than he, curly blond hair pressed delicately to his rounded face. The gun had gone off, in fact, the silvery bullet having cut through the woven fabric of a mainsail.
A blast of heat at the boy's back was the only thing that brought him back to his senses, as an eruption of hungry, orange flame sparked at his arm's length. The young pirate clumsily staggered to his feet, nearly pushing over the blond boy if he hadn't had moved at his own device. The redhead's cutlass dripped his own blood, dark and sickly sweet at its blade, making him reluctant to pick it up.
His head was throbbing and the grey sheets of relentless rain did nothing to clear his conscience, so the boy nearly fell over in an attempt to pick his weapon up.
"Ah, Momo, you okay?" his shipmate asked, worriedly, burgundy eyes looking owlish as he steadied Momotarou with a firm grip on the ginger's forearm.
The redhead had grasped his cutlass somewhat weakly in his right hand, feeling a twinge of pain as he tried to tighten his hold. Distracted from the scenery and not quite paying attention to his savior, Momo found the location of his near-murderers. The lanky man and his pudgy friend had hit the deck, a pool of maroon liquid darkly staining the wood where their heads lay. The rain washed away their lives, their blood now part of the many other streams that trickled towards the center of the ship's drain system. Something about that made Momo uneasy.
"Oi, Momo, pay attention to me!" the blond pirate quipped, his boyish voice coming off as slightly whiney and pleading at the same time. The ginger-haired boy turned around, now paying attention, and trying to ignore the explosion of his own senses.
"There we go! Now, Momo, I think you owe me it big time," the teen gave a mischievous wink before continuing on, not letting Momotarou respond, "but we can save that for later. We have a job to do."
For some reason the younger pirate couldn't help but laugh, shooting his friend and rescuer a sharp-toothed grin. As if on-cue, a strike of electric blue lightning split a rift in the brumal skies. The sea churned in response, the navy waves growing angrier with the beating roll of approaching thunder. The rain intensified, too, meddling with Momo's vision in a watery mess. The torrential downpour still did little to neutralize the fires on board, though, and if anything only gave fodder to their eager licking.
The blond boy beside him seemed to be experiencing the same difficulties, yet both pirates felt a rising excitement inside of them. How could they not? The danger of the situation could be easily pushed aside to make way for adrenaline. Danger was what they seemed to live for, anyway.
Momo made an effort to tighten his grip, now spotting an open entryway of stairs leading to the upper deck. His topaz eyes widened, and without hesitation he tugged his friend along with him. The two pirates sprung into action as if they were programmed to do so, working side by side to make their way through the thicket of clamor. Their clothes, made from hefty leather and ratted, old fabrics, were doused by the abundance of pouring rain- making it increasingly harder to move upon the slippery deck under a growing weight.
A green-eyed woman approached them from head-on, supplying herself as the only object standing between the pair and the staircase. Momotarou shot a slightly devilish smirk in the direction of his maroon-eyed friend to which the blond gave a nod, and the two pirates moved forward in tandem. The ginger teen shifted first, thrusting his cutlass forward without hesitation to only find a pressure pushing against his strike. The woman was wielding dual blades, and the silver of her right sword had stopped Momo's cutlass right in its tracks. She pushed back furiously, green eyes sparked with determination.
The spirited redhead was not to be outdone, of course, and made no hesitation to increase his force. It was at this point that the pressing uncomfort in his head returned, as if the jaws of a shark were biting down on his skull. Conveniently the thin scar down his ribcage began to sting again, no doubt splitting at the seams as his muscles screamed on. Damn, she was strong.
The blond pirate had only reacted a few heartbeats after Momo's advance, and his managed to be more calculated. His shipmate was armed with a boarding axe, the hooked end of the wide metal fashioned to look like shark teeth. After all, grated sides proved most helpful when it came to tearing someone apart. It was a wonder that the petite teen could actually work the axe- considering he had a small frame and little muscle mass. It was all in the technique, Momo supposed.
The blond's weapon was sprinkled with a dusting of scarlet sin from the two men he had dispatched earlier, which was actually surprising. He was never really known to actually kill opponents. The sunshine-haired boy swung forward, holding the wooden hilt in both hands, effectively swaying the woman's balance and causing her left rapier to fall to the ground.
Sensing a weakness in her hold, Momotarou shifted his blade slightly to the side, near the tip of the green-eyed girl's sword, finding the distance to be quite helpful. Since it was further away from the sleek handle Momo discovered less resistance, and brought a strain upon his muscles as he cut down. The ginger felt his cutlass meet flesh, the sword tearing a deep gash down her face.
His blond shipmate had already lifted the boarding axe back over his shoulder, cheeks pinkened by the effort and the lashing of rain that hardened his skin. Momo nodded in his direction, trying desperately to distract them both from the shrill holler that the woman let out. It was all part of the job.
Another clap of thunder diverged the sky, deep and menacing and dark. The seas retaliated strongly, managing to rock the modest vessel to the side. The pair of young pirates were feeling quite the exhaustion now, their weapons stained by the lives of those they had marred and their clothes soaked from rain and blood.
Still, though, the atmosphere gave them enough adrenaline to power on. A gunshot sounded behind them, clear and hollow, which also caused a warm eruption of heat. Another fire.
Momo gritted his teeth and grabbed his cheery crewmate by the hand, their boots scuffling wetly against the boards as they dashed up the stairs. The quarterdeck was far less congested, only the brave and strong men daring to engage in combat here. Actually, it was rather whoever managed to make their way up.
"Oi, Nagisa, what did we have to do again?" the redhead asked somewhat sheepishly, his cat-like eyes gleaming with forgetfulness. His senses were smudged by the events of the stormy evening, including his perception of memory, but that wasn't truly his fault. Their captain hadn't been completely clear, either. Then again he never really was.
The curly-haired blond gave a dramatic wail, "Momo, how could you forget?" his outburst attracted an opponent in earshot, a man with a hefty set of broad shoulders and an intimidating marlinspike in hand. Nagisa and Momotarou nearly gulped in unison, eyes trained on the pirate as he moved closer. Even from far away, and despite the rain, they could smell the putrid scent of metal and blood on his clothes.
The brute rushed forward without any delay, marlinspike raised over his head. A flash of lighting, companioned with a yellow burst of flame, lit the stained spikes that adorned the iron ball. Nagisa was, this time, the first to react. The petite blond took a bold step forward, face scrunched in concentration, as he brought the boarding axe over his head and met the point of the brute's marlinspike.
Momo was second to act, though not far behind, and waited until the other two pirates were locked to make his own move. The boy pulled his cutlass from his side, hands locked tightly around the silver hilt, and slashed sideways. He almost caught the man's skin, and his hit was sure to sting, but found no pressure against his blade.
The man had sensed Momotarou's movements, and had shifted sideways in the last moment. The grip of Nagisa's axe slid, and the blond struggled to step in-sync with his combat partner and keep his hold. Yet this was to no avail, and the marlinspike came down right next to the boy's head.
Momo gave a pained yell, darting forward and pushing his shipmate out of the way. The brute only snickered, probably seeing their friendship as a weakness of some sort. But that was far from the truth.
"To answer your question from earlier, Haru told us to do this!" Nagisa spoke, his boyish voice strained and loud over the clamor of metal and thunder.
"Ah, that's right, isn't it!" the ginger pirate exclaimed, extending his calloused hand to help the blond teen off the stained deck. They shot up just in time to miss another strike from the brutish opposer, and darted to the right. "Wait, did he give us a reason?"
"Nope!" the other boy piped up, all too cheerful, "Haru doesn't need to, though."
Begrudgingly, the feisty redhead agreed. His crew had a tendency to blindly follow their young captain. He was unknown, for the most part, yet that was because his work was too well-done. Only the sea whispered praise of his gentle name. Rain spat furiously at their backs, yet both boys fought on, still locked in an intense bob-and-weave with the marlinspike man.
"You two sure talk alot!" he roared, voice curdled by spit. Nagisa and Momo gave no simple response, but instead, wordlessly went about their way to take the brute down. The blond pirate grabbed his axe in both hands, firmly coming down on the man's lower leg. This was very unexpected, and well received, as the elder pirate let out a hollering shriek.
Momotarou took advantage of his partner's strike and let his own cutlass find its way to the man's torso. A spouting of thick, wine red blood met the face of his blade. The ginger boy grinned, and the brute fell to the ground with a loud thud!
They were looking for a man. A mapmaker, to be more specific. Haruka had informed his men that they needed one, for God knew what reason, but that he believed a nearby-ship had them hostage. They had boarded the current vessel with nothing near hesitation, confident that their captain had guided them in the right direction.
.。.:*・° .。.:*・°A FEW DAYS EARLIER .。.:*・° .。.:*・°
The sun blared white-hot beams of light unto the ocean below, painting the watery scape with bright strokes of turquoise and azure. Sparkles shimmered and bounced over the surface, carrying with them a promising warm breeze. It was a perfect day for swimming, and Haruka's very being itched and burned with the desire to meet the ocean. Yet, of course, there was no 'opportune' moment for him to take a dip. The dark-haired pirate had dangled his feet precariously off the side of the boat, bare heels hitting hard against the wood he perched on. Many would only get this close to the water if they desired a dance with death, yet Haru knew better. The water was alive- it wasn't foolish. And lately... it had been feeling trapped. He just knew something was wrong.
A flicker under the blue ocean distracted his thoughts. There was a brief yet vibrant glimmer of pure gold, and not a breath later, a head of brunette hair and caramel brown eyes surfaced. The mermaid sure took her sweet time in emerging, resting just above the gentle waves before she gave a powerful flick of her tail- and sidled up next to Haru. The woman, young but inexperienced by no means, rested her elbows on the space of wet deck next to his legs.
"Amakata."
"Haruka."
There was a slight pause, the silence only greeted by the eager squawk of a gull, before the mermaid broke into a pretty smile. It was quite rare to find a friendly mer-creature. Often times pirates were unfortunate enough to cross paths with sea witches or sirens, and such fabled beasts offered nothing but pleasure for themselves when encountered.
The blue-eyed boy shifted forward slightly, "News," was all he said, countenance blank as he waited for a reply.
The creature sighed, her breath labored enough to slightly irk the young pirate. He hated when she stalled like this. Then again, there was nothing else he could do to get the information he needed. The young man kept himself at the attention of silence, gaze never leaving Amakata's face. The gold-tailed mermaid gave a slight shrug in response.
"The man you're looking for is Makoto Tachibana. At least, I think." Ama paused, tapping a slender finger lightly against her chin, "He's skilled with maps, so they say. You'd need a maker like him to navigate these waters." the mermaid finished helpfully, her chocolatey eyes sincere as she looked to Haru. The two were not the deepest of friends, yet they had a mutual agreement to help and protect each-other; which was fine by all means. The mention of the mapmaker made Haruka stir uncomfortably. If he was revered, he wouldn't be easy to attain.
" Where?" the boy asked, somewhat curtly, although he couldn't really help that.
Amakata gave another thinly lipped smile, "That's the one thing I don't know, Haruka. Ah, I really wish I could help you. But I do know that he's somewhere nearby. On the water, perhaps. A wise man once said, 'Deeds are fruits; words are leaves!'" She finished prolifically, eyelids closed in thought. To her it meant perfect sense. If the raven-haired boy wanted to reach his goal, he would have to start acting upon his own actions and look for success instead of waiting for more information. There was only so much she could gather.
Haruka didn't understand her symbolism quite as much. The pirate's bright blue eyes traveled to where his legs dangled off the side of the deck, so close to touching the turquoise water beneath. But he couldn't. He couldn't get in the water unless it was free.
"I'll go. Thanks." Without waiting for any more formalities, Haru rose carefully to his feet and gave a dismissing wave of his hand. The boy's mind was now buzzing with thoughts on how to tackle the situation. If Makoto Tachibana was on the water, he was near. And if the mapmaker was near, that meant they had a chance. The pirate opened his eyes to get one last look at Amakata before she left, something simple to show his gratitude, but the golden-tailed mermaid had already vanished.
All Haruka had to do was find this man, find out why the water wasn't free, and then use said mapmaker to get him to his destination. In his mind, it shouldn't have been too difficult. The captain turned around his shoulder, bare feet barely making a sound as he headed back in the direction of the ship's living quarters.
"Attention! We have a new target."
.。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°
Momo and Nagisa's eyes followed the motionless figure that slumped on the wet wood under their feet, a somewhat foreboding silence passing between them. Many men were killed when it came to raiding and boarding, and just fighting in general, but it was always hard to do. At least it was to those that held emotion.
Time seemed to pause.
The noisy clamor around the pair ceased, as if every man and woman held their breath in anticipation, and the only sound breaking the barrier was the clang of swords and pistols being dropped. It wasn't of fear or awe, but rather of recognition. A signal flag had been sent up. It was small and square, perhaps the least lavish, but certainly not the least important. Surrender.
The white piece of fabric waved hazardously under the brutal lashes of wind and rain, the cloth illuminated by a randomly blue strike of lightning. Momo and Nagisa stood upright now, both the blond and ginger dumbfounded.
The ship they boarded had surrendered.
As if on cue, the pair felt a certain presence behind them. A thin young man, slender in shape but not lacking in form, was right next to their battle site. His cobalt-blue eyes were just as intense as ever, and thin locks of raven hair covered his face. A bandana, similar in color to that of his eyes, wrapped around the pirate's head; completed by a thin gold chain holding a dolphin pendant. Scatters of shredded cloth and gold adornments stilled at his hips where a humble rapier was tied.
"Haru! What-" Nagisa stopped speaking as a voice erupted from the deck below.
The two younger pirates rushed to the helm of their deck, knuckles pale around the rail as they looked down onto the scene below them. A man stood in the near-center of the forecastle deck, blood trickling down the side of his weathered face. He donned an impressive, forest-green cloak; adorned by silver tassels and trinkets. The captain.
"Ahoy, Nanase! Ye be a brave man t'come to my ship. Whaddya want?" the surly commander spoke, dark brown eyes trained on the slim captain behind Momotarou and Nagisa.
Everything seemed silent in anticipation, forgiving the constant crackling of live fire and the thunder that rolled ominously overhead.
"Makoto Tachibana," was all that came in reply.
The other captain squinted through the grey rain, his wrinkled old face twisted with confusion. He seemed to bite his lip in thought, but from far away Momo couldn't really tell.
Haruka tensed behind them, but it was such a little movement that it was nearly invisible. He seemed to lift his thin chin, calm oceanic eyes evenly meeting the gaze of the other captain. No matter his reply, they had won fair and square. They would be getting something out of the fight.
The man let out a booming, sickly laughter, "We gave him up a long time ago! T'the navy, Nanase."
"The navy?" Nagisa exclaimed, the only pirate to speak so far other than their respected leaders. His bright voice nearly shattered the silence, to which the opposing captain gave another chuckle.
"Aye,"
No man's service was worth facing the navy. Makoto Tachibana was no longer an option. A sinking feeling inside Momotarou told him, though, that Haruka didn't care. The next ship that they were boarding would be painted with the prince's colors.
He could hear some of the men below start to snicker, a seething chorus of hushed laughs rising from the deck. Their captain made no effort to silence them, his vibrantly green cloak turned dark from the rain and encroaching storm. There was no malevolence in his gaze or words, or even actions. It was something more of… pity?
This recognition made Momotarou more than aggravated. Not at anyone in particular, but rather at the fact they had bled the lives of innocent men and probably lost some of their own crew all for nothing. The ginger boy glanced daggers at their captain, expecting to find some sort of reaction on Haruka's placid face. Instead it was just as emotionless and receptive as ever, rain trickling in clear streams down his cheeks and neck.
"Thanks," was all he spoke, voice like riverwater. The captain below stirred slightly, coat swishing with his movement, and gave a lopsided grin. It was quite the awkward agreement on both sides. Haru had only wanted one thing and had made a foolish mistake, while the other crew had lost many men and surrendered to no cause. They certainly wouldn't be doing much business with this ship again.
Jeers and taunts rose like lava from the pirates around them, aimed at both sides of the fight, slow and menacing and enveloping the electric air. Haruka and the green-cloaked man both payed minimal attention to their assaulters, giving each-other a stout wave before facing away.
A slight gasp rose out of the blond boy beside him, to which Momo gave Nagisa a surprised look. It was unlikely for them to get away unharmed. Even though the ship they boarded had surrendered, any other crew would rip them limb from limb in fear of a shamed reputation. The peaceful stalemate they had come to was all too convenient, yet slightly unfortunate. Haruka was a one-mission man. He wouldn't take from the vessel they had boarded without reason, and no loot would be returning with them tonight.
The blond pirate rushed forward, latching feverishly to his captain's arm with a pout. "Haru, what do we do now? This was such a bad idea." he protested, eager maroon eyes turned upwards. The ginger teen managed to stifle a laugh, slightly befuddled at the fact that his captain could even put up with Nagisa. The young man's cold and calm demeanor was a complete parallel to the bright, upbeat talkativity of the blond; and Momo couldn't help but think he held a soft spot for the boy.
Such warm thoughts had no place in his mind, however, and the bone-chilling soak of rain reminded him. The blood from his slit-like side wound had begun to dilute, now, yet his head still faintly rung and he felt as if he was going to fall over if he didn't keep moving. Fire still raged around him, eating up the dark oak wood, greatly intensified by the aroma of gunpowder thick in the ashy air.
"Hey, Haruka, you're not seriously thinking of storming the navy, are ya?" Momotarou piped up suddenly, his own voice almost startling the excitable boy. His captain merely gave a shrug, the leather vest over his shoulders giving a weak squeak.
"Why not?"
The ginger pirate couldn't actually think of a response to that. The navy was dangerous, smart, and had a legal claim over the waters they currently sailed upon. They were large in mass and had the favor of the people and prince, and even coming within a few miles of a royal ship condemned you to danger. Their fleets didn't fool around, and were much more practiced than their small crew of misfits. Yet something about this task managed to excite Momotarou. Overcoming the odds, an underdog story if anything. If they tried, and like really tried, they may just be able to succeed. Anticipation blossomed hot within the pirate, warming his chest and making him slightly dizzier than before. Nagisa seemed to be experiencing the same electric rush, their determination almost tangible in the air.
The crowds around them had begun to shift, and all the men from Haruka's crew had begun to descend into a congregation on the lower deck. Many pirates from the boat they had boarded still had their weapons raised furiously, attesting and cursing Nanase's name out of shame and belligerence. Such an eruption caused Momo's shipmates to move faster than ever, hastily grouping near their captain in waiting of instruction. They would have to swing back onto their own ship, which was only floating a safe distance away, using a network of ropes slung between the two vessels. Such a system was customary in boarding- if it wasn't an all-out war you needed to find a way to return to your ship.
Nagisa and Momotarou positioned themselves at the back of the pack, starting to feel extremely chilled from the grey rain at this point. Yet a certain wave passed through them, and the ginger pirate turned to his petite friend with a wide grin. They would be training to ambush the navy next- and finding this mapmaker meant an enthralling adventure was soon to ensue. Plus, Haruka would need at least some enthusiastic men.
"All right!" The two boys exclaimed, fists raised towards the black sky in unison.
