Well, if anyone was put out by the last chapter of Lucky 7, boy have I got a thing for you. Actually I'm not sure how many people read both. It seems like this fic has an absurd number of followers, and I'm convinced you all accidentally followed it. Anyway, here's a transition chapter before I (finally) start getting to the actual plot...kind of. I mean, that would imply that there is a plot.
Anyway, here's some words.
Both Yama and Meowdar returned with bundles wrapped by their arms. These consisted almost entirely of clothes, though Yama also carried one of the bushels of flowers that marked vampire spots around the city. I noticed his cat there as well, after it flicked its ear. It lay curled up and napping in the clothes, always at Yama's side now. Meowdar held a blunderbuss under one arm along with a few articles of clothing too small for Yama and too ratty to be anything new.
I stared down at Meowdar. He blinked back.
In the silence which resulted, I waited for an explanation, while he appeared to wonder why I stood in front of him at all. Waves lapped against the ship's side and rocked us as gently as a cradle. Meowdar's blue eyes glowed with the white light of the moon, nearing fullness up above us. His fangs also gleamed white as he spoke. "I'm taking the extra bed," he said.
"Tetsuro said he was fine with it," Yama added before I could protest. His even gaze dared me to tell him otherwise, sharp like the prick of a needle. I had a feeling he had his own reasons for keeping Meowdar around. Young people grew attached to others so quickly.
I had a rule that new recruits had to be accepted and invited by me first, but it appeared I had no say in this matter. "What about your cats?" I asked, more out of curiosity than argument. If the boys liked Meowdar, it couldn't hurt to have him around. It was curious, though – this sudden interest in joining.
"My cats are strays. They can take care of themselves, and my friends will leave out snacks for them. That is," he smiled, "unless you'd like to take them all with us."
I shook my head, cringing at the idea. "One cat is plenty. He will take care of any mice. More importantly, why do you wish to join my crew?"
Meowdar's eyes widened as though he hadn't considered the question before. "Why?" he echoed in amazement. He tilted his head for a moment in consideration before answering. "Tetsuro and Tadashi are here. I should like to remain with them."
I glanced to Yama as though he might make some sense of this. He shrugged but appeared to have accepted it without question. "I need to go put my things up before Mii-kun sheds all over them," he decided. The kitten atop the clothes stretched his paws out and rolled over the sharp new dress shirt as Yama headed below deck.
I had half expected him to try running away while we were docked, so perhaps I should have been excited to gain an extra crew member rather than lose one. But Meowdar defied reason.
"You've only just met Tetsuro and my son," I said, turning back to him. I stressed my relation to Tadashi in a warning. If this boy was not as innocent as he appeared, there would be dire consequences.
Meowdar's expression hardened, but he nodded his assent. "And it was because of my mistake that Tadashi was brought harm in that short period of time. I must make up for my mistake and look after him. Tadashi and Tetsuro are very small, smaller than me." A blush rose to his cheeks. "I've never met other vampires who are smaller than me, so it is important that I take care of both of them."
I hated to admit it, but I understood his meaning. Even though a small vampire could rip a man's still-beating heart from his chest, they appeared so innocent that they seemed to need looking after. I rubbed my forehead as I gave in with a nod. "Fine, you may stay here, but don't call Tadashi a vampire. He doesn't like that."
Meowdar offered as much of a bow as he could manage with his arms full. "I will be a worthy addition to your crew." He tossed a quick glance around the ship's deck. "This is…a cargo vessel, yes?"
I couldn't work up irritation through my amazement. "I suppose we are a cargo ship in the sense that we take cargo from other ships," I said, trying not to laugh. To be fair, the flag was not back up yet, but I would have hoped he knew what he was getting into.
"Ah, yes." His smile brightened. "I can also be a good pirate. I simply thought you worked a more lawful job, considering Yama's interest in the church."
My own smile faltered, slipping from my face. As though my mind refused to understand his meaning, thoughts cranked through my head with effort. But it wasn't difficult to guess what had happened. I found myself glaring down at Meowdar, who looked curious rather than concerned. Releasing him, I snapped my eye to the real enemy, the tower perched above all others. It was impossible to miss on the city's skyline.
Damn. Damn that place. "He tried to go to there," I growled.
Meowdar nodded in confirmation, his frown sympathetic. "It was a bit of an upsetting experience for him. I did not realize he had not told you."
He didn't. He didn't utter a word about it. As much as I wanted to ask Meowdar for details, it was not his story to tell. I shooed him off to his new room, where he could torment his roommates and not tempt me to hear more about it from a secondhand source.
If Yama wanted to talk about it, we would, and if he did not, I would not pry. But I would request answers at the very least. If he could ask me personal questions, I should be allowed to do the same.
As I entered the room, he slammed the heavy lid of the clothing chest. His cat jolted from its napping spot on my side of the bed. The flowers rested on my desk. "Was everything to your liking?" I asked.
He turned to plop down on the chest. "Everything's fine," he huffed, tugging on his bangs. Though his hand obscured his face, it couldn't hide the red tint of his cheeks. "Thank you."
I couldn't help but smile. He was still a polite church boy at heart, even if he didn't want to be around me. "You're welcome," I said with a nod. "Did you try everything on?"
"No." His shoulders tensed. "I'll try everything on later, but I know all of it fits. You said we were leaving soon, so we didn't have enough time for that."
"True, we will be leaving shortly. Some of the men are a little late in their return to the ship, so we have some time." I strode over to him and took a seat at his side on the old chest. He remained tensed, leaning away as though I might try something. "I apologize for not properly warning you about the effects of churches, or rather, crosses," I said. "I didn't wish to cause you unnecessary harm, so I should have informed you sooner."
I wasn't sure what he expected, but it was not that. His wide eyes took me in like a rabbit in a snare before turning to the floor. I waited for a flare of anger or hatred. I thought he might call me a demon again; instead, sorrowed pain filled his gaze. His hands curled into fists in his lap, his knuckles a bloodless white. "I should have known," he whispered. "I'm a devil now, so it comes to reason that God would treat me as one."
I placed my hand to the top of his bowed head, letting my fingers slip between smooth strands of hair. "I have a theory about that," I said. "I think it has little to do with God." He frowned up at my hand, then me, but let me continue on without complaint. "I believe after all our time on this Earth, vampires as a species learned to fear crosses and the like for the sake of our own survival. Those who carried them were the most likely to want us dead, so our bodies learned to naturally stay away if we see one. We've adapted, you see. I've been around so long I learned to overcome that instinct, but you're still young, and your body aims to keep you alive. God is not the one who hates us, I think. Rather, it is those who decide to carry out God's will, whether it is truly something he might want or not." And in all honesty, I wasn't convinced God existed at all, but I doubted that would go over well with Yama.
Skepticism was written clear across his face. "Why does holy water burn us then?" he asked.
I pursed my lips. The answer to that had always eluded me. "Allergy?" I attempted. He certainly would have rolled his eyes had he not been trained in respect. I let my hand slip from his hair only to wrap my arm around his shoulders and tug him to me. As always, he stiffened at the contact. "Regardless of the reason, I'm sorry you had to go through that. I remember that pain well, like a fire beneath your skin. I know I have been lacking as a sire, but I aim to do better for you from now on."
He was as tense as a cocked gun, heat radiating from his face. Despite that, he didn't stand or attempt to push me away. I couldn't guess what to make of that, so I let my arm fall and stood first. "We will be leaving shortly," I said. "It will be quite a stretch at sea, so if you start feeling uneasy, stay on the top deck and get some fresh air."
He nodded, his eyes locked on the floor.
"If we run across another ship, you can come and stay in the room as you please," I continued, " or you may stay on deck. But if we cross another ship with vampires on it, I ask that you do stay in here just in case."
"Do all other vampires hate you?" he muttered.
"Not all. But as things stand, there are several who would gladly kill you in front of me." I reached out and grasped his chin, tilting his face up to meet mine. His soft, brown eyes attempted to match my glare with defiance, but he could not drown out their innocence. "I will not allow myself to make the same mistake again," I said. "I will protect you, and you will see all this world has to offer."
His brows pinched. Reactions from Yama were always a surprise, and his irritation with my words was no different. "I can protect myself," he hissed. "I will not fall victim to another greedy vampire."
Well, I'd wanted to take Harlock's eye, and it appeared I had it now. It just wasn't quite how I'd intended. I'd felt his gaze on me from the moment I walked out on deck. He manned the wheel, lazily tilting it on occasion despite staring at me the whole time.
I leaned back against the railing around the lower deck, bored out of my wits. We'd been sailing for days on blank, endless water. When I asked about our destination, Harlock looked to Tochiro, who shrugged. Apparently, having a destination, or at least knowing it, was uncommon on this ship.
"We follow where the sea leads, I suppose," Tadashi said when I complained to him. Despite returning to his position in the galley, his injuries kept his voice at a tired whisper. Still, he smiled as he spoke. "Really, the captain always takes us where we need to go. You just have to trust him."
Trusting the man who couldn't quit staring did not seem within my best interests. I'd had quite enough of it. "For someone with only one eye, you sure have trouble keeping it to yourself," I called. "Shouldn't you be watching where you're going or something?" Not that there was anything out there to see, but he could at least pretend.
He blinked at my words before his gaze finally shot off toward the sea at his side. "I was simply looking at your new outfit," he snapped a little too quickly.
I cocked a brow. Seeing Harlock flustered was new. Entertaining was a good word for it. Anything to throw him off his usual apathetic or smug attitude was fine with me.
I'd tried one of my nicer outfits, simply because I hadn't worn it yet, and it couldn't hurt. No one on the ship bothered with manual labor unless absolutely necessary, so working up a sweat was rare.
"Never worn something so fancy before," I said, tugging on the ruffles below my chin. Lace seemed to make up a majority of the shirt's trim. The vest shone green like wet moss and was smooth to the touch. I didn't care to think about where the money to pay for it had come from, but it was something I never could have imagined affording.
Harlock's gaze was now adamantly forward, where there was nothing to see. "You look nice," he said, his grip on the wheel tighter than usual.
Tochiro and the handful of other men lounging around deck tried to hide their snickering.
"Do I look alright?" I asked Tochiro. "I can't tell if he's lying."
Tochiro flashed his usual grin. "He's not lying, but he'd probably like those clothes better if they were on the floor."
My eyes rolled up to search my head for the reason behind his words. Putting my nice new clothes on the floor would ruin them. "Wouldn't they get dirty if I did that?" I muttered. "So he…doesn't like them?"
From across the deck, Harlock snapped at Tochiro. "You keep those thoughts to yourself," he warned. "I'm not getting hit for something you say."
"Are you saying I would hit you?" I demanded, crossing my arms. "I do not commit acts of violence."
I found everyone staring at me, brows raised. Harlock, especially, appeared confused.
I pulled at my bangs to hide from their eyes. "I mean, only if it's absolutely necessary. I don't actively seek out violence."
Now it was Harlock's turn to chuckle, and the thought of hitting him grew tempting. Luckily for him, God intervened in the form of Kei yelling down from her perch. "Ship to our port side! Heading our way fast!"
I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement, but along with it came a sinking pit of dread. Even if it broke the monotony, this ship could bring horror and violence. Boredom was preferable to that.
Still, I was curious. But no matter how much I squinted toward the horizon, I could see only night sky meeting black water. Kei's eyes had to be like spyglasses to see so far. "Can you identify it?" Harlock asked.
She hummed as she leaned further out from the nest, fingers drumming against the ledge. "Red sails," she said. "Didn't Zero's ship have red sails?"
That name sounded familiar, but the only red sails I could think of were the red crosses on Spanish vessels. Harlock, too, looked stumped, his brow furrowed. "The Karyū did have red sails, but Zero decommissioned her," he said. "Might be someone copying him. She was a feared vessel."
It came into view on the horizon as a red pinprick. The handful of us lounging on deck all drifted to the port side for a better look. "Gray body," Kei said. Harlock's frown deepened.
"If they're coming our way, we might as well go greet them," Tochiro said as a lazy smile eased onto his face.
Harlock's expression didn't change, but he spun the wheel toward it. "Rouse the men below deck," he said. "Be prepared for anything."
The men shouted a chorus of "Yes, sir," before rushing off to their stations. I stayed against the side, leaning out and watching the ship grow closer. As Kei said, the ship itself was gray like thick smoke, but it was also massive. If the Arcadia was a stallion, this Karyū was a Clydesdale. Though I could cover it with my palm from the distance between us, there was no hiding its monstrous size. Sails like blood towered over our black ones.
"Captain," Kei said, "that looks like the Karyū."
Harlock took a slow breath in and out as he gauged the ship. "It is," he said at length. No clear emotion touched his voice, but I could see something in his eye that gave me plenty of reason to worry – fear.
"Who is Zero?" I asked Tochiro, who was now frowning the same as Harlock. If Tochiro couldn't laugh this off, there was definitely something wrong.
"You met him," he said. "He was the oldblood where you grew up. Had a deal with your brother to keep the vampires in the city safe from hunters."
I couldn't place a face or meeting to the name, so it must have been something from that span of time I couldn't recall. If that was the case, I hadn't truly met him, not as myself.
The rest of the deck crew spilled out from below, rushing to their stations as Harlock barked orders. "We'll come up alongside them. Drop the sails, and be ready to run a line between us."
"You don't think it's a trap?" Tochiro asked.
"They fly Zero's flag. If it is a trap, they are cowards, and we will rid the world of their ilk." He looked to me, the corner of his mouth twitching toward a frown. "If you choose to remain on deck in this case, then I am to assume you are willing to engage in battle as a part of my crew."
It seemed to be an attempt to deter me. If anything, it made determination blaze in my chest. I pulled my gun from its holster and held it at the ready. "You can give me orders, Captain," I drawled. "But I will choose whether or not they should be followed."
He sighed through a smile. "Of course. You're certainly one of my crew."
The Karyū made the waves roar as they parted around it. Its dozen sails stacked on top of each other and matched the long coat of the man standing at the bow. His dress was much like mine, more at home at a ball than on a ship, though gray smears of ash marred it. Even with one arm tucked into his jacket as though it needed to be in a sling, he stood tall and proud. Eyes close to the color of his coat cut into Harlock like he wanted the pirate dead.
This was Zero. I knew it was him because he looked so familiar. I'd seen that face before, square jaw and long nose, but I hadn't seen it recently. The vague outline of him in my memory was from years before. Of course, he still looked exactly as he would have ten or fifteen years ago.
No one talked as the two ships edged toward each other. Sails were lowered. Hooks were thrown across the gap, tying the two together. The men of the Arcadia appeared uncertain, glancing between each other in search of answers.
As the Karyū's bow leveled with the Arcadia's stern, Harlock answered Zero's hatred with hardened acceptance. The world grew voiceless at their meeting. Even the waves knew to remain silent as we all waited for some sort of signal from the captains.
The first sound was Zero's boots against the wooden deck. His strides, quicker and quicker, took him to the edge of his ship, where he stepped up onto the rail and leapt across the gap. There was half a ship's width between them, but he cleared it with little apparent effort, slamming into the Arcadia's deck. The boards crackled under his weight as he straightened his knees. Harlock did not move or speak, even as Zero stormed toward him.
I couldn't understand what was happening until Harlock breathed a sigh, closing his eyes and tensing against what was coming. Even as I realized Zero's intent, I couldn't move or speak fast enough to stop his fist from cracking against Harlock's jaw.
Surely, this would start a fight between everyone. The Arcadia's crew always jumped up to defend one of its own, even over small things like accusations of cheating at cards. But as Harlock staggered back, clutching what could only be a broken jaw, no one moved. Zero began to close the gap between them once more, his fist pulled back.
"Wait!" I yelled. My legs propelled me toward the ledge of the upper deck in a sprint. My attempt to jump, like I'd seen other vampires do effortlessly, landed me with the ledge cutting into my gut. My toes pushed up against the wall, and my fingers grasped for purchase on the boards. I was getting nowhere fast.
My struggle to drag myself up was cut short by a hand grasping my wrist and pulling me up as though I weighed nothing. Dangling by his grip, I found myself face-to-face with the man who looked ready to kill Harlock moments before. As he held me up, my toes far from the boards, his features were softened by curiosity. "Yama," he said, his eyes brightening in realization. "That outfit looks very nice on you."
He lowered me to the deck as I gaped at him. "Thank…you," I managed at length. He stood a head taller than me with a smile on his face, one hand patting my hair. The other hand – well, that was the odd thing – he had no other hand. I hadn't noticed from a distance, but his right sleeve hung empty, tied into the inside of his coat as though he'd simply tucked his arm there. I would have assumed this was normal had Harlock not been so fixated on it. His eye followed the line of Zero's shoulder as he cracked his jaw back into place.
"Sir," I attempted. "Could you sort out your differences without punching Harlock? There's no need for violence."
Zero's brows shot up, and Harlock snorted at his side. "I thought you enjoyed me being hit," he said before spitting a mouthful of blood to his side.
"Only in stories!" I hissed. "I don't want to watch you get destroyed, especially if you're not fighting back. Don't argue with me when I'm trying to help."
Zero breathed a laugh and patted my cheek. "Very well then. If you don't wish harm against him, I will make due with one punch. I should have expected this from the sort of feral you were."
Zero's amusement did not reach Harlock. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, eye boring into Zero. "What happened?" he demanded, waving a hand toward the Karyū. "Is this all that's left?"
Any trace of happiness slipped from Zero's features. He looked back to his ship, to the faces dotting the deck. I followed his eyes to find women and men who wore more bandages and tatters than actual clothes. Only a handful looked like sailors who might hang around a pub, but they looked as tired as the rest. I recognized some of them – a shopkeeper, a tailor, a farmer. They had no business out on the sea.
"The city's gone," Zero breathed. "Everything's gone. There was a fire, spread through like a swarm. We saved everyone we could." His shoulder shook along with his voice. "We tried, dammit."
"Ezra?" Harlock asked, a dark pool of cold hatred in his eye.
"There's…" Zero took a ragged breath "There's more to it than that, but, yes. Ezra was the starting point."
It felt as though he was stabbing me again, over and over, piercing my heart with that stake. I bled out until there was nothing of me left but a hollow shell. Stepping forward, I leaned my face into Zero's shoulder. "I'm sorry," I heard myself say.
"Your brother's actions are not yours, little one," Zero sighed. "You have no reason to apologize."
"No," I murmured. "It is my fault. I'm the reason he hates you…us. I'm the reason he wants us all dead."
Even immortal, Zero can't make it through one of my fics without a horrific injury. Amazing.
