Do you know the feeling of just minding your own business, when suddenly BANG, a thought hits you like a wave and you can't get it out of your head? Happened to me while I was watching a movie called Blackbeard. I'm a huge fan of Pirates of the Caribbean, and once the thought had hit me, I was like "Why the eff didn't I think of it before?".

I think the idea is kind of original (a nice change from 3 fics of high schools lol), since I haven't spotted a story like this on ff before. Ofc, I could be wrong.

The action takes place in the early 17th century (ya know, the time without computers and mobile phones?).

There will probably be several crossovers from other anime/manga, just because I on ff, I don't like working with OCs that much.

Enjoy.


Pirates of the Akatsuki

Chapter 1

A loud knock on Deidara's compartment door made him jump and look away from the book he'd been reading. With a frown, he closed the book, leaving his thumb between the pages as a bookmark. On the one-colored brown cover, gothic calligraphy letters read History of the Seas.

"Come in!" he called. "It is open!"

A tall man in an unusually simple black tux stepped in, bowing as soon as the blond young male came into view.

"Dinner has been served, young sir. Madam and Esquire have requested for you to join them in the dining room," the family butler reported, looking at the tiger skin rug lying on the floor to not meet his superior's eyes. Servants of the Iwaga family had always been known for their faultless manners, just like the family had always been known for its impeccable reputation.

"Thank you, Sebastian. I shall be there in a moment."

Sebastian bowed again and left the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

Deidara sighed and took a leather bookmark from the wooden table. He set it to replace his thumb between the pages and got up from his seat to place the book back in the bookshelf. A quick glance at his golden fob watch he'd fished out of his pocket, told him it was 2 past 5 pm. That had been unnecessary. Dinners served for his family were always so punctual, he'd rather believe his watch was lying than that the servants had been late. And yet, he couldn't help, but check every time.

He went out of the door and locked it. Before walking down to the dining room, he paused to look out of the window. All he could see was one endless ocean, with no birds, thus meaning no land close either. Yes, he was on a ship – his family owned one. Or rather his adopted family, but no one talked about that small little detail. It had taken him eleven years to find out he'd been adopted and hardly anyone outside the family knew about it.

One couldn't tell the difference by just looking either. Madam Iwaga had long blonde hair that she always wore in a bun, and fair snow-color skin, even without the powder. Esquire Iwaga had brown hair, but it was always hidden under a big curly grey wig, such a modern and glamorous fashion item in the 17th century. Esquire had blue eyes, their color similar to Deidara's, even though his facial features were nothing like the boy's.

Still, who would've suspected? The reason Deidara had been adopted, was that his mother was a poor maid in another household, too poor to be able to feed her child and his father had been a royal navy seaman, who'd died in a shipwreck, leaving his 3 months old son in the child's mother's care, who couldn't take care of him. At least that was what Deidara'd been told, he didn't know whether to believe it or not.

The Iwaga family, however, had a daughter, who was 1 year older than Deidara. Seeing as madam was unable to give birth to more children, they needed a son, who'd be able to take over family business, once his parents have deceased. Deidara's mother had served a household doing business with the Iwaga family, and that's how, by a simple coincidence, Madam had seen the little boy, about to starve to death. She'd noticed the few similar features he'd had with her and her husband, and had realized the usefulness in them.

Giving money in exchange for the boy to his mother, Madam Iwaga had left the mansion, with the boy, dressed in rags, in her arms, and clear intentions to shower the boy with gold and riches once they got home. And that's how it had been, Deidara had grown up in the household of courtiers, living in luxury he'd never thought much of and served by servants he liked to think of as friends.

If he'd had it his way, all the obnoxious upper-class people, wearing corsets, make-up and wigs to hide their true nature and ugliness, would've been the ones to bow before him, leaving the down-a-few-classes people, including maids and butlers, with no money for cosmetics and only their natural beauty to rely on, standing up beside him as equals. These kinds of thoughts he had, were all kept well hidden in his head, not allowed to escape his mouth.

He would've loved to escape this whole glamorous life once and for all, but one thing held him back – the sea. With this family, he got to sail the sea 4 days a week, and that was what convinced him to stay. He loved the sea – it was the beauty of how something, like a stone or a sand castle, could exist, but once touched by the sea, a rock would drown and there would be nothing left of a sand castle.

This was what encouraged him to put up with all the make-up and other nonsense – even though he always declined wigs and powder, he would agree to wear some dark eye-shadow. It was a compromise between him and his parents – he didn't like make-up, but could tolerate dark colors, his parents wanted him to wear make-up (they'd always told him, with a supercilious look in their eyes, that no make-up was for maids and servants), but didn't like the dark colors that much. Still, they allowed it, since his father said it made him look strict and resolute, like a general, and that those were two very important qualities for their heir.

And that's where and how he stood now – 19-years old, standing in a ship, feeling as close to the sea as possible, wearing ridiculously exquisite clothes, including white knee socks that itched the hell out of him, and being served by people he looked at as equals. That was the price he had to pay, to be close to something he considered art and more important than life itself.

Sighing, he left the window and knocked on the door, before entering the dining room.

"Hello mother, father," he said, sitting down at the end of the table that could've seated 10 people. "I apologize for the wait."

"We will be arriving in the harbor in 2 days, son," Esquire Iwaga said in a deep and strict voice, speaking like he was talking in front of an army.

Deidara nodded quietly, cutting himself some chicken, while a servant filled his glass with red wine. If his parents hadn't been there, he would've grabbed the bottle from the man and filled the glass himself, or, better yet, let the liquid flow down into his mouth right from the bottle. Being treated like this, made him feel like a baby.

Deidara noticed his mother open her mouth to say something, but she was forced to swallow her words, when a crew member from the deck, dashed into the room, all color drained from his face.

Father slammed his hand against the table, making everyone, including the dishes on the table, jump. "What is the meaning of this, sailor?"

The poor man looked so scared, it took everything he had to get out the words. "…attacked. We're being… Attacked… By corsairs!"

That was when Deidara heard the screaming and yelling from the deck above them. The sound of shell guns being fired reached them as the ship began to shake, like there'd been an earthquake. It took a moment for the truth to sink into the aristocrats sitting in the luxurious room.

What do you mean corsairs? Corsairs as in pirates? Pirates as in danger? Danger as in a reason our dinner has to be interrupted?

Deidara was quicker than that. Leaving his family, scratch that, adopted family at the God's mercy, he dashed out of the room.

Back at his room, there was a door, a secret passage, to a room hardly anyone but him knew about, and those who did, tended to forget it existed. The room had a window, big enough for a thin person to fit through, and once through it, one would land on a wooden lifeboat.

Deidara was just about to open the window, when someone grabbed him from behind and swirled him around. The man, dressed in rags, had a sword in one hand and Deidara's hand in the other. His face… man, he was ugly.

A wide grin appeared on his face when he saw that the boy was completely defenseless.

"Um, parley?" Deidara said in a guessing voice, raising the palm of his free hand as sign of him surrendering.

The grin on the pirate's face grew even wider and it occurred to Deidara that he didn't even know, if they could understand English. The man dragged him out of the room, right up the stairs and onto the deck, where all hell was loose.

The sailors of the royal navy, who'd been navigating the ship, were fighting the raiders, many of them already lying on the ground dead in huge blood pools. The classy ship deck had turned into a bloody battlefield and soon-to-be graveyard. From the corner of his eye, Deidara saw a sword being put through his father's stomach, the blood ruining his moments ago perfect white blouse.

Another cannon fire made the ship shake. Deidara eyed the other ship right next to theirs. A lot less luxurious than theirs, but better in terms of attack. There was a threatening Jolly Roger waving at the main mast.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to observe the piracy masterpiece for long, as he was pulled in a direction he wasn't sure of. Somehow, the whole situation seemed odd. Not because they were being attacked by pirates, rather for he wasn't sure he was sharing the madness going on in everybody else's minds. The whole fight seemed to be more like a theater act he was walking through, than a real life situation. Somehow, he seemed almost immune to the chaos going on.

The man was dragging him right to the center of the chaos. Deidara felt something hit his eye, making him automatically cover it with his hand. Now that hurt and brought him back to reality. Slowly, the voices around him began to gain volume and the screaming soon threatened to cut his head in two or three.

With his open eye, he saw fire behind the windows of his father's office. The glass broke, men jumping out of it. A thunder storm couldn't have demolished the ship more than these men did. With potato-sack-like bags, they carried out things of value, escaping to their own ship with them.

Deidara winced, proving he wasn't completely free of fear, when he felt the grip around his arm tighten and then let go. The man holding him had been shot. Surprisingly, the trigger had been pulled by his own man, not one of the British seamen.

The redheaded man with the pistol was now in front of him, and Deidara was ready to feel the gun barrel touch his forehead and send a bullet through his head. Well, as ready as anyone can be for their own death. To his surprise, it didn't happen.

The man had time to smirk in the middle of the chaos, before grabbing Deidara's hand and bolting towards the ship's edge.

"Hold your breath," he said, before jumping overboard, pulling the blond along with him.

Instinctively, Deidara took his advice and managed to do it before they hit the water. Deidara felt the man let go of him under water and for a moment, Deidara thought he was a goner. He opened his eyes, but couldn't make out much under there. It was hard to tell, which way was up. The only thing he knew was that he had to get back up quickly, he was already running short on oxygen.

Struggling to move his hands and legs, he saw light shining from above. Praying it was the rays of sun, not the light on the other side of the tunnel, he swam towards it. He managed to make it above sea level, greeting oxygen with gasping.

A cask falling towards him, made him go under again, but at least this time, he knew which way was up. The next time his head was above water, he saw that he was just between the two ships. Down there, they seemed a lot bigger than they had seemed when he'd been on one of them.

He saw a window in the enemy ship's hull open and a rope ladder long enough to reach the water level, being tossed out of it. It's not like I have a choice, if I want to live, he reasoned and swam towards it, with some difficulties brought on by the rough sea.

Even though the whole struggling in the water had completely worn him out, he managed to find the energy in himself to climb the ladder up to the window. Once he reached it, a pair of hands reached out and pulled him in.

Then there was only darkness.


To be continued...