Chapter 2: Reunite

Akuma's sweat drenched body sat up from his bed. His heart was thrashing around violently in his chest and sleep wouldn't overcome him. He groaned when he felt a sharp pang in his stomach and coughed up some blood into his hand. The sticky crimson leaked out of his cupped fingers and dripped onto the white sheets.

He noticed the slight rocking of his ship as he set foot on the floor. He used the wardrobe to his right as support and wobbled to the bathroom. His eyes adjusted to the bright light and he caught sight of his figure. His usual strong and handsome body was replaced with an aged, and tired one. He didn't have enough time to assess himself before he coughed up more blood into the sink. He turned on the faucet and washed his hands and face before turning off the light.

He let his eyes adjust once again to the darkness before a streak of lightning flashed and lit up his small room. His arms and legs were shaking and he sat down on his bed to relax his pained muscles.

Immortality. Never ending life. He had persuaded himself that having agonizing side effects would be worth it if he could have a taste of being forever young. However, once you taste the irresistible sweetness, you may never stop. That's why every year, once a month, Akuma had to go through this ritual. He had thought he was cheating death, but in the end, he was cheating himself.

He eyed the bottle of whiskey on his night table and made a reach for it. He brought the whole bottle to his lips and tipped the brown liquid into his mouth, feeling it make a slow burn down his throat. He took another swig of it, and another, and another, until it was empty. He tipped the bottle vertically so he could catch the last drops on his tongue and set it gently on his desk once again.

He didn't feel nauseas anymore, but his muscles still ached, and his throat felt like fire. He was dying for the magical potion. Literally. He stood up slowly and let his arms drop tiredly to his sides. He made long strides to his door and opened it. He found most of his crew members on deck and it was raining hard. He stepped out and his body became soaked once again, but that was the last of his worries.

"Captain, stay inside!" One of his crew mates screamed but he ignored him and took the wheel into his hands. He steered the ship in the opposite direction with practiced ease. The storm was chaotic for a couple hours 'till sunrise when it finally stopped and the clouds cleared out, showing never ending blue and a couple of white puffs here and there.

"Feeling any better, Captain?" His closest assistant asked casually. Even if the storm was gone, there was still a strong wind and it made Akuma's short black hair flutter. He smirked and held out his hand before replying, "Where's my hat, William?"

William smiled and handed him his hat—which had been tossed away during the storm. Akuma tilted his head forward and fixed his hat upon his head. Akuma turned back to the wheel and stared into the distance, the storm had added another day to their journey. Akuma took a deep breath, and tried not to flinch.

"I am going to take rest," Akuma turned around to let William step up, "watch the wheel." William nodded and took the wheel in his hand.

Akuma made his way to his cabin and passed a group of his crew playing cards and drinking. He rolled his eyes and proceeded to his cabin. Before he touched the brass doorknob, he turned around.

A tall figure was leaning against the ship railing. His long blonde hair fluttered with the wind and he kept his eyes on the horizon. He seemed to be balancing a pair of scissors on his index finger. Akuma made his way to the young man.

"Vincent." Akuma said behind him.

"Akuma," Vincent replied, acknowledging his presence.

Akuma looked down to see shredded cotton. He raised an eyebrow and nudged it with his boot. He heard a chuckle and looked up; Vincent was holding a headless stuffed bunny. He gave Akuma a large grin and said, "He looks better this way, ne?"

"Right, of course." Akuma said awkwardly before walking back to his room. His bones were still sore, he needed that potion. He walked over to the gigantic map on his wall, showing every port on the seas. He traced a pattern toward their location and the closest port.

"Stormalong Harbor," Akuma muttered to himself as he squinted at the small lettering on the map. Even his eyesight was getting worse.

[End of Miriam time!]

When Flapjack awoke to the tolling of the bell, the rest of the crew had left the forecastle.

He sat up, groggy and disoriented. A litter of bottles were strewn around him, and he felt nauseated. Pale light of a lantern flickered uncertainly around the room as the ship rocked.

"Must have been some kind of party," Flapjack murmured to himself, leaping to his feet while realization hit him. There had been a party; today the crew was preparing to land at Stormalong Harbor.

He flew up the stairs, threw open the hatch, and bowled into a gruff and slightly hung-over sailor rolling a barrel.

"What's yer hurry, boy?" he growled. "Is but only the third bell past midwatch." Flapjack sighed in relief.

"Sorry Mitchard, I was worried we had landed. Why all hands on deck?"

Mitchard smiled and replied, "You weren't far wrong, lad. We're landin' soon enough, about morning watch p'raps."

Flapjack's eyes lit up, "Can I help?" he asked, prompting Mitchard to chuckle lightly.

"T'aint if ye can help, boy," Flapjack raised an eyebrow, "it's what ye can do! Go see if there ain't a job for ye around here somewhere."

Flapjack nodded and ran off to where the captain was positioned. He looked around and found the ship full of activity. Men were shouting orders to the right and grumbling to the left; sailors singing broken tunes as they lugged cargo from the hold onto top deck.

Captain Morgan was whistling a merry tune, keeping the wheel steady with one hand and occasionally used the other to take a swig of ale. When he saw the young boy, he waved cheerfully.

"Ahoy there Flapjack!" he called. "How'd you sleep?"

"I slept in," Flapjack said, frowning. "How come no one woke me? I'm just as much as a sailor as any of you."

Morgan shook his head, "You might assist us and haul yer load once in awhile, but you're still considered a guest." He said kindly.

Flapjack hid his distaste with some effort and asked, "What is there for me to do now?"

"Take over the crow's nest," said a high, lilting voice. Flapjack turned to come upon a thin, bearded sailor with lank and stringy hair, holding a spyglass.

"McNair and Jimmy are rigging the masts, and they need a third. Why don't you take this," the sailor thrust the tool into Flap's hands, "and take over for me?"

Flapjack nodded, grinning, and waved the captain goodbye, "See you later, cap'n!" He rushed to the mainmast in excitement.

A few moments later, he was on top of the world, looking out at the compass of sea blue surrounding him. He suddenly remembered Cap'n Knuckles once telling him: "The heart is but the beach beside the sea that is the world." At this memory, Flapjack could feel his throat tighten. He was distracted enough to not save himself from the small jolt of the ship that made his body fly across and hit the railing hard. The pain caused him to drop the spy glass but it was easily caught below him.

"Hey landlubber," A voice a lot like his own called, "you alright?"

Flapjack got up and balanced himself, still rubbing the spot below his rib cage where he had collided into the railing. He recognized the boy who he had met on the first day. He seemed much healthier and awake this time. His amusement was not well hidden and it seemed he was stifling laughter.

"I'm not a landlubber." Flapjack spat out, narrowing his eyes. This seemed to amuse the boy even more.

"Whatever," The boy replied chuckling before tossing the spyglass into the air which was caught by Flapjack.

"Raiden, get back down here!" a gruff voice ordered from down below. The boy quickly slid down, but not before waving goodbye.

'Raiden… so that's his name,' thought Flapjack.

Flapjack set the spyglass to his eye once again, carefully resting his left hand on the rail to steady him. He focused on the horizon that signaled land. It was too dark to see anything at first, but as the sun rose from the east, something caught his eye.

'It's nothing,' Flapjack told himself, but the brighter it became, the more definite and unmistakable it became. His hands trembled, as he raised the spyglass one final time. His heart nearly stopped as his eyes unveiled his childhood home—Stormalong Harbor.

He remained motionless for a moment as memories—and tears—flooded his vision. Before he knew it, he was grinning like an idiot. Then, he bent over and yelled, hands to his mouth, "Land Ho!"

Beneath him, weary sailors took up the cry—"Land!" "Stormalong Harbor, straight ahead!" "Land Ho!"

Flapjack simply couldn't contain his excitement any longer, he leaped off the crow's nest and caught a rope just in time to swing to the ground safely. Throwing the spyglass to the nearest man, Flapjack ran past sailors lugging cargo, tying rope, and singing songs. Most of them were happy to be landing—3 weeks at sea can be awfully tiring.

When he pushed his way to Morgan, the captain was ordering the sails to be opened. "Full speed ahead! Push on men, push on!" he cried, and then turned to the still grinning Flapjack.

"Well my lad! Well done! And I suppose you'll be leaving as soon as we land?" Flapjack nodded, beaming.

"Thank you—thank you for all you've done," He breathed. "When do we land?"

"Four miles—we'll hit right at 5 bells. That's 6:30 by your reckoning," the Captain said, quickly calculating. "My word, boy! Don't be so rushed! In a couple hours we'll be there." Eyeing Flapjack shrewdly, he paused for a moment before letting his expression relax.

Morgan put his hand on Flapjack's shoulder and said, "You're a fine young man, Flap. But it takes more than one man to sail a ship. Wherever you're going, may you always find support, and may you never be alone."

"And you Captain, I thank you more than you might know," Flapjack answered, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Alright then, Flapjack," Morgan said, resuming his normal gruff manner. "When this ship lands, you're free. And God be with you each step of the way. Now begone, I got a ship to run!" His eyes twinkled as he turned around to steer the ship, and Flapjack walked away.

His heart soared when he listened closely to the song the sailors were singing as they worked:

"Having sailed across the world,

And through the 7 seas,

I find more pleasure than,

And man on land would ever please,

Whenever crow's nester does shout

A sailor's best repast,

He'll raise his hands and crow aloud—

I'm going home at last!

He's raise his hands and crow aloud—

I'm going home at last!"

Every syllable sunk deep into Flapjack's heart. He turned to the horizon again and wiped his tears with his shirt sleeve as he whispered quietly, "Hear that Cap'n, I'm coming home at last."