Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting

Eighth of the ten fics for my 500 follower giveaway on Tumblr. I do these every 100 followers and am currently hosting the next if any are interested. Tumblr name is same as my name on here. C:


His eyes flicked to the streetlight, one of which couldn't decide whether it wanted to stay on or not. Drawing in a heavy breath Shota ran a heavy hand down his face, not caring that he was smearing grime down along with it. Honestly, he was just too damn tired to care any less about his appearance. It was late anyway, only a few others on the street, so not like many would bear witness to him. The dark-haired man glanced around, relieved to see the street was relatively empty, much to his appreciation.

Carrying on, the only thing he could focus on was making it home and collapsing in his bed. Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable. Unfortunately, blacksmithing didn't provide the most luxurious of livings, but who was he to complain. He had it better than some in this Godforsaken town.

The man paused momentarily, shuddering as a chilled breeze drafted by. Pulling his jacket close, he glanced up at the sky and narrowed his eyes at the darkness encompassing it. It wasn't the normal type of night, it was completely blacked out. Not a single star was peeking through the heavy clouds. Shota stared up at it for a few moments more in thought; he couldn't remember any signs or words of a storm. Just as he went to continue on, something sounded out, a noise that crystallized his blood.

A cannon shot.

His heart thrummed in his chest, and his eyes widened in horror. 'Damn pirates,' he thought to himself as he took off sprinting. Of all times not to carry a firearm, he chose today. He turned completely around, with the intention of returning to his forge. He hated to have to go back, especially now, but it was closer, and he had plenty there in which to defend himself. How long has it been since the last attack? Ten years? Fifteen? He couldn't remember, and the memory of the last was hazy in his mind. But, he was fully aware he wasn't prepared for another. None of them were.

Feet clacking against the stone, his breathing grew heavier as the first droplets rained down and struck his face. The fresh downpour was thoroughly ignored, pushed aside as he focused solely on his destination. Just a few more minutes...if he ran faster, then he should make it back in just a coupl-

'BANG!'

Shota heard it before he felt it...the explosion, eruption of fire that struck his left shoulder. The moment he was aware of what had happened, he was already on his knees, right hand clutching the gunshot wound. Teeth grit, he pulled his hand away, trembling, and gazed upon the crimson staining it. Almost instantly, the red was washed away, mixing in with the water pooling around his knees.

"Shit," he ground out, returning his hand to grip the wound, desperate to stifle the burning sensation to no use. The raven went to push himself up, needing to get to his shop, but steps were approaching, more than one pair of them. And, they were gaining quickly. It was no use, Fight as he might, there was no use in doing anything. But, that didn't stop his instincts from kicking in as his legs acted on their own. In a split second, he was on his feet, only to be shoved right back down.

Now, face down, water soaking every inch of him. He could feel a hand weave through his hair, gripping it painfully as his face was pressed harder into the stone. Immediately, he let out a low growl of anger and frustration.

"Now, now, now," came a gravily tone. It was close, he could feel the breath brush over his ear; he could smell it. It was rancid, like rotting meat, and it was heated. "We got a runner, do we? Well, I gots news fo' ya, we likit when the prey runs." Not a moment later, the hold was released, and like a rabbit free of a trap, Shota was up and running again, a new wave of adrenaline assisting him in forgetting the pain and fatigue.

The only sounds making it to his ears were his own breaths and the beating of his heart, blaring, too fast to be normal or healthy. He couldn't hear anything or anyone behind him, but he dared not slow down, dared not risk a glance back. Where the hell was everyone? Where were the authorities? Or were most not aware of the danger upon them in this moment? He had to assume the last of those. But, surely they would know soon enough, they all would. He felt sick just thinking about. How many would die this time? How many would be taken?

Shota rounded another corner, hoping he'd manage to lose them. But, if the warmth he felt seeping between his fingers told him anything, they would be able to find him no matter where he went.

Another corner, and a third, for a while he weaved in and out, taking every turn he saw. Fuck going back to his forge, that was no longer an option. He needed distance, he needed to hide, to get a moment to collect himself and his thoughts. His fingers tightened on his shoulder, the pain starting to return and reminding him of its presence. This was bad, his breath was slowing down, things were getting hazy...he was losing too much blood. Every limb burned and begged for some relief. Every fiber was growing numb, cold even, and a slight tremble was sneaking into his legs.

He darted around another corner

Too fast

As his feet slid from underneath him, lightning struck, illuminating his path for a fraction of a moment. It was enough for him to vaguely make out a figure, but it wasn't long enough for him to focus on before the breath was being forced from his lungs with the impact on the stones. A sharp cry sounded out as the collision jostled his injury, sending new waves of fire down his arm.

"Sonuva…" he muttered between tightly ground teeth, which were on the verge of chipping under the pressure. As he lied there, he dared not move, not while his vision stuttered and his head swam. Ringing invaded his ears and nausea was beginning to consume him. He tried as he might to fight it, to stay awake, but it was a losing battle, one he couldn't keep up for too much longer.

He choked down a whimper as he shifted sluggishly on the ground. Despite his predicament, still attempting to cover some ground. Though, he was fantastically failing at the feat, and he barely managed to make it a portion of a foot. All it took was a few seconds for his body to completely give out on him, declaring and making it quite clear that it had had enough of his abuse. It needed a break, and dammit, it was going to get what it wanted.

His eyes slid half-way shut as he focused slowly on breathing, a task that was becoming more and more of a conscious effort by the second. Everything was darkening, everything was fading...was he dying? He had to be, he was sure of it. Only dying could hurt this much and be so numb at the same time.

Shota took one last deep breath, hoping that would steady his nerves. He wasn't sure what he was thinking, of course that wasn't going to do any good. So, he quickly blew it out, and a shiver accompanied it. In the back of his mind, he was sure he could hear footsteps now, but he couldn't be sure. Then they grew louder and there was no doubt in his mind that that's exactly what it was. But, he lacked the energy to look, didn't care to. Underneath it all, there was relief; if he was lucky, maybe they would make this quick and end it all for him. Wasn't that something, for once, wishing death, wanting it for lack of an easier option.

He could feel it, someone standing next to him. His eyes couldn't make out a single thing, but he knew someone was there, and there was not an ounce of familiarity about the presence. Clothes ruffled as the crouched down, and a moment later, fingers were weaving under his chin and lifting his head up. Words were spoken, but they were lost. And, just as he was lifting his gaze to look to his pursuer, darkness clouded inward, completely shielding his vision.


A sigh tickled over parted lips, and he shivered as a chill ran down his spine. The small spasm, in turn, jolted his shoulder, causing a grimace and a groan to escape. Why did everything hurt so bad, and why was he so stiff? Shota shifted, only earning him more agitated distress in his shoulder. He reached for it, brows knitting further when his hand glanced over bandages. It was only then that he tried to move his left arm to find it somewhat restrained.

In a near panic, the raven inhaled sharply and bolted upright. Beads of sweat rolled freely down the sides of his face as he looked down, investigating himself. Luckily, everything seemed to be in order...other than the fact that his arm was in a sling. What...how- then images, flashes, began to come back to him.

Right...the gunshot...the invasion...the person!

Alarmed, the man jerked his head in either direction; he recognized none of the room he was in, but his searching came to a halt when something else demanded his attention instead. He sat there, gaze fixated on a figure standing in the doorway only a few feet away.

"W-Who are you?" he asked, hating that he couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice.

There was a low hum of acknowledgement, a noise that continued on into a tune. If it weren't for the situation he was in, he'd have complimented the melody. But, that was something that was a tad difficult to focus on right then.

"Is that any way to talk to your savior?" the man asked, voice like molten seduction as he stepped forward. Long, golden locks swished with his step, licking Shota's hand as he leaned forward. "Well? Have you no manners?" he asked, a sly grin slipping onto his features.

The raven reeled back slightly, expecting this one to have the same stench as the other. However, he was pleasantly surprised to find the aroma...appealing. Like lilac. Still, he leaned a bit away, his trust all but diminished. This was a bloody pirate! He glanced the man up and down, paying particular attention to his hat.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his shoulders, not wanting this scum of a human to see just how uneasy he was. "How kind of you, captain," he practically spat. This only seemed to entice the blond, inviting him to lean closer.

"That's more like it, but how about a bit of a 'thank you,'" he encouraged, that same touch as before slipped under Shota's chin as his head was raised to look up at the man. "I did save your life, after all. Or would you rather have bled to death in that alley. Or, better yet, have the crew find you and do as they please?" His grin widened in mischief, "That's still an option, if you wish."

The other man couldn't stifle the shudder at the insinuation. And, of course, this was an opportunity snatched by the captain.

"Am I making you nervous?"

"More like repulsed," he replied, almost instantly. His heart nearly stopped once he realized what he said.

To his surprise, and utter relief, the blond actually laughed, a hearty and genuine laugh. He physically felt his shoulders drop with that sound. He really needed to hold his tongue around these people. Regardless of his previous thoughts, he didn't actually wish to die, and especially not here, on a ship...possibly in the middle of…

"Where are we?!" he demanded, instantly going to get on his feet, but he was easily stopped, basically shoved to lie back down.

"Calm down, if ya pass out on the floor, I'm not picking you back up," the other warned, with an edge of playfulness. "We sailed this morning, and don't worry, we didn't kill too many, just those that got in the way."

Shota didn't know what to say. To his shock, he didn't feel upset, he felt nothing. Maybe it really was shock. Then again, he couldn't think of anyone he was particularly close to. "How many?" he asked, voice a degree higher than a whisper. It was slightly raspier than he would have liked. "How many did you kill?"

The blond thought about it for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, fifteen, maybe twenty. That's only the ones I know of, could have been more, who knows, who cares," he shrugged. It was like this was a game to him, there was zero remorse in those words, almost like he was proud of the blood on his hands.

"Anyway, perhaps introductions are in order. Hello, my name is Captain Yamada. But, you may call me Hizashi," he said with a wink.

"Why did you take me?"

"'Why did you take me', what an odd name."

"Answer me!"

With a sigh, Hizashi stepped back and clapped his hands together. "That's a tough one to answer, I could give you a long and exaggerated response, or I could just give you the short and easy answer." He glanced over to see the impatience written across the raven's features. "Alright, I took you, and spared you, might I remind you, because I find you interesting. Tell me, how happy were you as a blacksmith?" He arched an eyebrow as he glanced over his shoulder.

"How did yo-"

"You have soot all over your clothes, you have scars that have to be from blades, and you are littered with burn scars. So, either you're a blacksmith or a shitty chef," the blond answered with confidence. "Now...what is your name?" He spun back around and folded his arms over his chest.

The other had a scowl set into his expression, and tightly, he replied, "Shota...Aizawa." He was making his displeasure painfully obvious, not even attempting to cover his disdain with the situation. "What do you mean 'interesting'" he asked. He watched the captain closely, watching every movement of his regardless of how slight.

"Well, I seem to have lost my first mate, and I am need of another," he shrugged.

"That's not what I asked, I asked what you meant by-"

"I know what you asked. And how should I know. I see someone I fancy, and I take them, it's how I do things. And you...you a have a particular craving for." There it was, that tug of at the corner of his mouth as he waged his captive's reaction. Again, it was captivating, ignorant of this world. He loved it, he desired it.

Shota didn't know what to say, so he just sat there. A pirate, it was a hell of a lot more interesting than the life he had, a hell of a lot riskier too. He chewed on his bottom lip, he couldn't think here, his thoughts were skewed with this man standing just a few feet away, pressuring him to make a certain choice. Damn near threatening him to say yes to his request. Was it a request even? He never asked if he would, unless he was assuming he would. Unless he wouldn't have a choice but to fill the position. He was sure it was that or die.

"Well?"

Shota jolted his attention back up, searching those deep green eyes for any other hints, and his intentions were clear. "Do I have any other options?"

"No."

The response was quick, almost instant.

Right, of course there was no option, not that he was expecting anything else. He didn't get a chance to think about it more before the blond was back right in front of him. He had closed the distance between them so effortlessly, so quickly and silently. This time the hand reached to cup the side of his face instead, and the other weaved to grip the dark locks.

"I want you as my right hand man. The moment I saw you, I knew it had to be you. And, you should know something about me, Shota, when I want something, I get it."

Shota's next response was stolen away when lips were pressed against his own, shooing any chance he had at retorting. Eyes wide, he froze, stunned, wondering if this was really happening or if this was a dream. However, the constant throbbing in his shoulder told him this was all too real. With a lack of something better to do, he just accepted it; the better of his two hands winded around and slipped into the other's hair. Odd. It was silky, cleaner than he expected. Everything about this man just seemed wrong in so many ways. He was a pirate, and yet...he was so sophisticated, almost like he was an actual human being.

It was the light chuckle that ruined the moment for the raven.

"What's this? The man so sharp with his tongue is actually gentle with it as well." He cut his eyes up, and for the first time, he was unable to read the other's face. Amusing.

"Shut up, what was I supposed to do?" Shota shot back. It was true though, what else was there to do other than go along with it? He may not have been a fan of his kind, but he knew well enough to avoid crossing them, even if it meant… But, this wasn't the case...he had actually, dare he say, enjoyed it. He wanted to throw up at that realization, it was against everything he grew up believing, against all he thought was wrong. This was utterly and completely wrong.

Hizashi's smile just stretched as he straightened back up. "Try to get some rest, starting tomorrow, you have a new job as the first mate, understand? And, I don't accept lateness," he added with a knowing nod of his head.

The raven could only stand there, in a trance, as he watched as the captain...his captain made his leave. Still at a loss, he raised his hand to lightly touch his lips, which tingled slightly.

"First mate, huh?"