I just finished my grad finals for the semester, so I can start uploading more parts of this series. To those who reviewed, thank you so much for your support. It's been years since I posted anything here and I'm glad that people still like to read my writing. :)
And in answer to the question of sequels, there are 6 parts total to the series, I think? So stay tuned and happy holidays!
It is quiet as Sakura strolls out onto the deck of her ship. It is night and the moon hangs round and swollen like a pearl in the sky, casting its silver light across the sea and her solitary vessel. As she gazes out to the horizon, she smiles to herself at her good fortune at the clear weather. After a day of battle on the high seas, they could use some peace.
Walking across the deck, Sakura listens to the sound of the boards creaking under her weight. Beneath the sound is the ever-present crash of waves against her boat while above her head, the pulley sways and screeches at the odd gust, sounds that have all become as natural to her as the sound of her own heartbeat. It may be strange to some that a pirate ship is capable of such calm, but what people often don't know is that a ship can also be as silent as a church.
But Sakura has never been good with silence.
"I found the salve," she announces as she sits herself down. It is an empty statement. She doubts Kakashi much cares for her strange medicine or any knowledge of it, but she had hoped to get a reaction from him. Instead, all she manages to garner is a blank stare and a pause in the idle flipping of his tail.
Defeated, she sits down by the crate of seawater he is currently sitting in. Formerly used to transport some artifacts for a client two weeks ago, it had been recycled by the ship's engineer to house Kakashi for his visits to the boat. Shino had even devised a rig to transport him comfortably between the ship and sea.
Breaking out a clean cloth, Sakura starts dabbing the salve onto the cuts on his arm as she finds them, pausing every now and again to dig a splinter from his skin and clean it with alcohol. Today is Kakashi's first visit onboard, and while he comes under less than auspicious circumstances, she is still glad of his company as he submits himself to her examination. She has no idea if she is helping him at all since she never learned to treat merpeople, but she figures it's better than having him die of an infection behind her junk ship.
Hands still dabbing away at his arms, she flickers her gaze at him, letting it skip down the length of his body. The crate is large enough to seat at least 10 of her crew, but Kakashi's shark tail juts out of the pool like a flower just starting to wilt and she watches as it sways side to side. Glancing up at his face, it seems he isn't conscious of its movement and she wonders if he's uncomfortable like this before dismissing the thought. Even if he wasn't, he probably wouldn't tell her. He hasn't said a word to her in three months.
Sakura chances a look at his face, anything to help her understand him and his mind, but his expression is a stone wall and is just as blank as it was after telling her his name. Out of annoyance, she presses the alcohol-stained rag into his forearm harder than she has to, but the only sign of his discomfort is the vaguest twitch of his brow on his vacant face. Instantly, she is ashamed: this is a poor form of repayment for his part in today's battle with another ship and she feels her pride as a captain sink, but it's her pride as a former ship's doctor that takes the hit most.
Shame stings her as she runs her hands over her work, only half paying attention. Her mind is too preoccupied by an image of their last meaningful interaction to focus. When she appeared with Naruto on deck and Kakashi did not utter a word, Sakura did not give it too much thought. It was possible that he was wary around others and did not want to speak in front of them (which was understandable).
But the days of silence stretched into weeks and now have stretched into months. While Kakashi still answers her with gestures and civil nods, there is a listlessness about him and Sakura cannot shake the thought that she has somehow done something wrong.
It is something that has haunted her for a while now, the idea that she has hurt him in some way. The idea that this silence is meant to punish her. It's something that unsettles her to her core, perturbing her like the sea in the midst of a storm. She has already tried to wrack her brains for the answer—has lost whole nights of sleep to the issue—but for the life of her, she cannot think of where she has gone wrong and it frightens her.
Even now with only an inch of wood between them, she can feel him pulling away from her and already he feels as if they are whole oceans apart.
"Are you…are you mad at me?" she asks, her voice shattering the silence as if it were glass. It is obvious that the question touched a nerve somewhere because he instantly locks up, and suddenly it's too late to stop herself and the words come out in a torrent of anxiety and fear.
"I… I was really happy when you told me your name. It may have not seemed like it to you, but it was a great honor for me that you trusted me with this…with this gift, but…since then you haven't said a word to me and I can't help but think that I've done something to offend you. If I have, I want to apologize. I never meant to hurt you and the fact that you might hate me—"
She wants to bite off her tongue. Her confession has gone on far too long and what has started off in the realm of rational adulthood has devolved into the insecure inanity of someone ten years younger. She had thought that she had thrown off her childhood fears years ago and the knowledge that they still thrive in her now burns her hot with embarrassment. The shame scorches her white as a star, scuttling under her skin and pulling taut like a man on the rack. She hates the feeling of it, like cobwebs and graveyards and the slow sink of a body into the waves. It's enough to make her want to spite herself if it weren't for the fact that Kakashi has caught her face between his hands and will not let go.
"Love," he tells her firmly as he stares deep into her eyes. "Love love love love."
He repeats it over and over again, each iteration bathed in urgent, ardent tones. As he speaks, his tail splashes in agitation. Water slaps onto the deck in loud bursts. The night-watch that she had relieved a while ago must be wondering what is going on, but the idea seems so inconsequential when his gaze is bearing down on her so fiercely and she feels at once as if she has been thrown into a fire and into an icy sea. Her blood thrums to life in her veins. She can feel the press of his forehead against hers, hot and burning against her skin as he continues his tirade, chanting the word again and again until it becomes a mantra, an incantation in her ears…
But then he pulls away from her. His hands, large and warm, slip from her face and suddenly an awful hacking cough fills the air. It is loud and wet; Kakashi's tail thrashes in agitation, and as he turns to his side gasping for breath, she watches as blood trickles down in thin rivulets into the valleys of his gills.
Her first instinct is to stop him, to calm him down and get him to rest, but he fights her hands at his wrists. Tries once more to catch her face and continue telling her what he could not tell her before—but the coughing is back, doubling him over in fits and spasms and it is all he can do to try and breathe. He does not even try to fight her this time when she catches his wrists and almost seems relieved as she lowers him back into the kiss of the water, watching as his blood dissipates in the pool.
He can barely keep his eyes open as he looks at her. "Love…" he croaks weakly, his voice barely over a whisper as he tells her it once more. As he speaks, she can hear the faint curdling of something in the back of his throat as he talks, like something repeatedly thrown against the rocks with the toss of the tides. The shredded remains of his vocal chords, she surmises, but she is more distressed by the pallor of his skin cut by thin trails of blood and the sticky wet popping hiss as his gills release from sealing shut.
As if oblivious to his condition, he tries to speak to her again, but she presses a finger to his lips and gently pushes him back to the water with a shake of her head.
"I get it. You love me," she says with a gentle laugh. "But you have to keep quiet for me, okay? Please?"
And for a second, it appears as if he will fight her on this, but it is his turn to relent and quietly nods his acquiescence before exhaustedly curling up in the corner of the crate to rest. As he moves, he feels her move away and a noise of protest almost makes it past his lips, but she is quick to hush him. She is merely moving her hand to help cradle his head, and watches with relief as he settles down as best he can into the tight quarters. The crate is not deep enough for his entire body and in this half-reclining position, his tail sags limply over the edge of one end while his head and part of his chest stick out at the other. He is so pale right now that he blends into the moonlight in the water. If she were not touching him right now, she swears she would lose sight of him in the crate. But she is there beside him and can see the slow beat of his gills as he breathes, red against white flesh and the navy ink of the water.
Dipping her hand into the crate, Sakura continues her vigil and the gentle trickle of water over his chest and throat. It seems to soothe him and she watches as the lines in his brow begin to fade. As she sits, a voice in her head tells her that she should also get some rest—that the night watch can take over for her when they get back and that an inattentive captain is as good as a dead one—but a heart is a heavy burden and she knows she cannot bear to leave him alone like this.
So instead, she continues to sit at her post, and the sound of trickling water echoes long into the night.