Seven Seas Treasure

~.~.~

Utau would have thought by now, after all these endless years upon years aboard this God-forsaken ship, that she would have known when to trust her gut. After all, relying on her instincts for survival had become a part of daily life. She knew who to avoid; where to hide; she knew and recognised those little signs that told her that she was being watched - that she was in someone's line of sight and she knew that that could only mean one thing. She had to get away. She had to retreat - fast, for she had been caught in the claws of those thugs of the Captain's far too many times for her to count, nor would she ever wish to recall them.

So Utau felt extremely angry with herself - disappointed even - when she failed to acknowledge that natural nagging feeling at the back of her mind; the clenching in her stomach; the sweat gathering upon her palms. Utau knew that she shouldn't have come out today. Really, she knew it, but, for some reason she had against her better judgement decided to emerge from her cabin and onto the quarterdeck for the first time in… Well, she couldn't even remember how long. And somehow it all still felt so unreal, yet familiar at the same time. She itched to crawl back inside - to lock herself back in her cabin again and hide away, shrinking into the background and out of memory for perhaps another month or so… But she had already taken the plunge. She had already been seen in the light of day - already been clocked by the more pleasant members of the crew.

Utau held her head as high as she could bring herself to do so. People were staring now. Whispering. Muttering. Looking on in awe. Not that she hadn't expected it - she had been cooped up inside that cabin for weeks on end now. But still, to be under their ever-present scrutiny as she made her way across the quarterdeck made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck; it had goosebumps jumping up to the surface of her skin; had her heart thudding in her chest. All she wanted to do was to retreat. But no, not this time. Not today. Not when she'd spent all morning summoning up the courage to venture outside - her pride would not allow it! Besides, the sun would do her good, she thought, and the air was fresher out here than the pitiful breeze her cabin window allowed in.

'All I have to do,' Utau thought far more calmly than she felt, making her way down the companionway and ignoring the pointed stares from a group of burly men nearby; 'is get to work - perhaps down below, if I can find it. I can think of something to do. I'll do anything! I'll scrub the gun deck; I'll empty the galley! Act normally and these foul creatures will lose interest in an hour…'

Speaking of which, Utau could see the hatchway that led down below in plain sight now. It was only a few paces away. The blonde dug her nails into her palms, determined. She frantically made a few calculations in her head and concluded that she would be able to reach it before anyone came near her. That group of buccans (ugly, wretched men who she was sure passed her cabin towards Kazuomi's quarters each night) were staring more overtly now and Utau was keen to get out of their way before they came within reaching distance. She took a breath, glared at the beasts, testing her limits, and marched over towards the hatch with all the outward confidence and resolve of the full-grown woman she wanted to be, yet inside she was shaking - a quivering, pathetic mess of a little girl surrounded by schoolyard bullies.

But she wouldn't let them bother her anymore, she told herself. Never again.

'Honestly!' Utau thought to herself. 'How can she stand to come out here every day? Does she not feel it? Does she not feel as I do? Do they not treat her the same?'

And, as if on cue, Utau's eyes fell upon that very woman who had begun to frustrate her so, even if she didn't know exactly why.

Princess Hinamori was on the far side of the deck - on the opposite gangway, at the end of a row of scrubbers, hunched over her brush and bucket and apparently in physical pain as she tried to drag it across the planks. Utau has stopped in her tracks without even realising it. She sighed. What a pitiful sight. Had she not been doing that exact same work throughout her entire time on their ship? And yet still she couldn't even manage a brush? But, then again, Utau mused, this was the life of the rich and noble - everything done for for; never having to lift a finger in your entire life and sitting on a pedestal for all to admire and yet the only reason you have but a penny to your name is all because your ancestors worked far harder than you ever did…

With that thought, Utau thought that she felt the weight of frustration ease off her shoulders just a little. Yes, she may have been sleep-deprived and underweight and still so shaky as she stepped outside the safety of her cabin, but at least when it came down to it she was made of stronger stuff. Did just being out here today not prove it? At least she could look after herself - she could lift a bloody scrubbing brush, she had the upper hand here on this ship…

Or, at least, that's what Utau had thought until she saw the blood.

She gasped. "Oh God," she mumbled, more in surprise than horror as her eyes were drawn to the dark stains smeared across the Princess' lower back - just visible through the fabric of her dress, pooling at the front of her dress where her knees rested against her skirt, rubbed raw and open as she knelt against the deck. Stunned, Utau watched as Amu still - still, despite all of this - continued on with her work, face creasing as she lowered her hands into her bucket of water. Her nails were probably bleeding too.

In her mind, midnight blue suddenly mixed with crimson red and Utau recoiled at the memory. She had never experienced scurvy - that dreaded sailor's disease, the unwelcome killer feared by many men at sea - but she had cared for someone who had. Twelve years old and powerless to help; powerless to bend the Captain's will… It had been one of the most distressing periods of her life.

'No one,' Utau thought suddenly; 'should be subjected to such torment.'

And then, inexplicably even to her, her plan to lay low and escape into the darkness of the hold was scrapped. Utau couldn't just stand and watch as one of those slave-driving brutes over there pushed and shoved the Princess aside and drove her to death, letting her bleed out onto the planks. If Utau remembered correctly (and she doubted that she would ever forget) the best cure for scurvy was citrus and plenty of rest. She briefly wondered why Kazuomi would allow her to labour like this, for surely he wanted his captive to be in perfect help? But it didn't matter. Utau felt herself overcome by pity - an emotion she truly loathed - as she remembered the groans and the shallow breathing and the lethargic ill-health of her brother all those years ago...

And Utau changed course and strode over to the Princess across the deck. She reasoned that there should always be at least one woman to stand up to the brutes aboard this ship. Utau had tried to be that woman - tried to stand up on her own two feet, immovable and steadfast, if only to prove that the Captain had not yet completely sapped the Tsukiyomi family's strength… And yet Amu had probably beaten her to it.

"Outta y'r cage, sweetness?"

A brute stood in Utau's way. A second was sliding over astonishingly swiftly for his weight. She almost growled at them, but she caught herself and reminded herself to keep her cool as she slipped expertly past them. The only time they ever spoke was to harass her in some way and she'd had far more than enough of it. Yet there was nothing she could do. One reached out to grab a fine, blonde pigtail, but she tugged it back just as quickly and scoffed at– at it. She'd dream of slapping it right across its greasy, crooked face and slashing at its throat; she'd fantasize about letting it tumble overboard and hanging it from the bowsprit later on that night, but, wish as she may, Utau still did not dare lay a finger on them.

"Filthy animals!" she spat, storming away as fast as her legs could take her and she sighed. She had so desperately tried to be the strong one – to lessen the burden on her brother – but somehow it had gone straight out the window.

'How pathetic.'

When she reached Amu, she just about threw herself down onto her knees, fighting back an uncharacteristic flush, and brusquely grabbed a spare brush.

Amu blinked for a moment in disbelief. "Utau?" she wiped the sweat from her brow and squinted in the sunlight, wondering if perhaps her exhaustion had finally started to make her hallucinate. Her cheeks were pale in spite of the heat and her hands were bloodier than they had been the day before. "Utau? What- What are you doing here?"

Utau scoffed. "Oh, stop stammering and get to work!"

Amu watched, bewildered as the blonde knelt beside her and fiercely began to scrub at the hard, muck-encrusted spots that she had failed to lift. Stumped, she could only bring herself to stare for a good few moments.

"Utau…" Amu began uncertainly. She waited, but Utau was apparently ignoring her as she worked. Amu didn't care. "Thank you."

Finally, Utau paused for the briefest of seconds. Lilac eyes flickered up, dazzling in the daylight. "Don't mention it." She brushed the Princess' gratitude aside with a quick shrug and began scrubbing again. "Besides," she said resolutely; "these planks need to be spotless in case the Captain comes out… You're hardly fit for it."

All bark, but absolutely no bite. Amu bit back a small smile and looked away, picking up her abandoned brush and working around Utau who huffed and sighed half-heartedly as she worked her frustration onto the deck of the ship. She couldn't figure it out. Utau just couldn't work out whether she was more annoyed with Amu or with herself. God, she was frustrated - so badly that she couldn't even begin to shake it, but, glancing at the pink-haired woman beside her, she gradually thought that she was beginning to understand.

Why did she suffer? Why had her life become this hell - this prison; this purgatory afloat on a never-ending ocean? Amu - she had only been here among them for a single month and yet… Why wasn't Amu as afraid as she was? They didn't treat her as they had treated Utau. They hadn't tormented her day and night for years on end - tugging her pigtails; grabbing her thighs; shoving her between them like a toy because they knew that their Captain permitted it, encouraged it even. How did she have the confidence to stand out here and brave the burning stares of those thugs and return to her cabin after work each night with no more than a scratch or sore and so willingly comply… And Utau couldn't so much as step outside into the corridor without trembling, shaking like a leaf, wondering how far they might take their antics today, for fear they might push her to the brink yet again… When she - Utau - should have been so much stronger, should have been so much physically stronger to withstand it all… Why was Amu so different?

Utau tried to breathe steadily. She could feel her eyes beginning to burn. She roughly shook her head and tried to will them away because she'd be damned if any of the others were to catch even a hint of weakness. 'Why must I be so childish?' she asked herself, shameful, loathing the petty jealousy that gnawed away inside her. 'Why do I succumb to such childish envy?'

Utau didn't even notice the way Amu looked at her with concern or the way she shuffled closer, leaning in to whisper gently;

"Utau-"

"Amu!"

Both women looked up at the familiar voice that rang out across the deck. In the distance, Ikuto was ambling up from the hold, hauling himself up the steps and avoiding the hustle and bustle of their fellow workers.

"Ikuto?"

Beside her, Utau stiffened. There was a loud 'clunk!'ing sound as her brush hit the deck and before Amu could even blink, the strange woman was up and on her feet, blonde pigtails trailing behind her as she scurried away, flying across the deck and ducking over towards the forecastle and out of sight.

'Utau?' Amu was perplexed. 'What a strange woman. What was all that about?'

"Amu," Ikuto's shadow fell across her kneeling form. When she looked up, he towered above her, his hair glowing in the sun and melting into the deep, azure blue of the sky. He gave the big brute of a pirate who had been overseeing their work a sharp stare. It appeared to be a silent command of some sort. The man nodded ever so slightly before plodding off, much to Amu's delight.

"I'm afraid your day isn't over yet, Amu," Ikuto said once the other pirate had gone; "but you should probably rest for an hour inside." And his eyes narrowed upon seeing the stains on her skirt. "I assume you have no objections?"

It wasn't really a question, but somewhere deep down under that firm exterior, Amu was sure she could discern just the slightest hint of concern. She smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Ikuto."

And her smile was transformed instantly into a sunny beam as she watched Ikuto extend a hand, wordlessly offering his assistance. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Amu told herself that it was only an act of kindness due to her feeling unwell, but she pushed the feeling down. Unwell or not, it was an act of kindness nonetheless. Not to mention, Amu had never been permitted a break in her cabin during the day before. To think that Ikuto had thought to relieve her of her duties, even if only for a single hour, had her spirits soaring.

Amu grasped his hand firmly, feeling the heat of his skin upon hers, and her cheeks began to burn. Her fingers dusted over patches rough and smooth - traced over the very fingertips that had etched their way over the surface of her thighs, tracing up her calves, over her skin so soft and delicate…

Back in the present, Ikuto's lips twitched slightly. "You look like you're burning."

Amu could practically feel the steam rising from her face. The gentle caress of his skin on hers was still playing in her head; the way he had handled her so gently making her pulse race. She half-yanked her hand from his and folded her arms as if all he had seen of her that morning would be firmly and securely locked away forever.

"I-It is pretty hot out…" she said pathetically. She held her head low, fighting to protect her blush from his prying eyes. She barely even noticed as he leaned over, lips against her ear and whispered teasingly;

"Are you thinking naughty thoughts again?"

"I-Ikuto!"

Amu growled, watching as he straightened up and gestured for her to follow him back across the deck. Oh, how her skin prickled. How she so badly wished to snap at him; to smack him out of his devious mood… But one look at his eyes - bright and alive and gleaming with mischief - took the words right out of her mouth.

"N-No dirtier than yours…" she mumbled eventually. She hadn't thought he'd be able to hear it, so soft and gentle her voice was amongst the clamour and uproar of the deck of the Shining Black. But ahead of her, Ikuto chuckled lightly. Her heart skipped and effectively stunned her to silence.

"Just don't work yourself too hard," Ikuto said to her as he was unlocking her cabin door. "Otherwise you'll just feel worse than you already are." He added, his eyes suddenly dull as if in remembrance of some long forgotten torment, but it was gone as quick as it came and, after a moment's thought, Amu could only link it to the dim light of the corridor.

"Oh, I'm feeling fine." she said simply, strolling into the cool of her cabin. "Nowhere near as drowsy as this morning…"

Ikuto didn't look as if he was going to interrogate her symptoms, much to Amu's relief. She thought he would have left her in peace already, but he looked fleetingly over his shoulder and entered after her, closing the door behind him. She looked at him quizzically.

"Even so," he began, rummaging around in one of his pockets; "you need to keep your strength up." And he produced onto the table a little package, unwrapping it to reveal a few squares of hard tack and a pitifully small lemon. He met her gaze and smirked devilishly. "Sneaked up what I could from the galley."

Amu rolled her eyes, half-amused. "I don't doubt that you're good at sneaking about."

Her response was another cheeky expression and she looked away, feeling her cheeks flare up again.

"Do I really need this?" she picked up the lemon which Ikuto had already set about halving and laying in segments on the table. "I mean, you force-fed me plenty this morning, so…"

Across the table from her, Ikuto pushed a quarter of fruit towards her and tried his best not to smirk. "Come on, Amu," he said coaxingly, in the way one might persuade a small child to take their medicine; "you don't wanna be catching anything again, do you?"

Amu scowled, mumbling unintelligibly to herself. She picked up the fruit like a petulant child, glancing sideways as Ikuto watched over her like an overbearing parent, arms crossed as he waited for her to comply. The seconds ticked by. Eventually, Amu sighed.

"Alright, fine, fine, I'll eat it," she caved, sitting down heavily at the table and wincing as the little chair squeaked dangerously beneath her. "I'll eat the damn lemon, Ikuto. An hour it was, yes?"

"An hour." he repeated, apparently satisfied and headed back towards the door. "Don't go for more than a few days without those fruits." he added. Amu nodded briefly, but she paused completely when the comment set a bell ringing within her mind.

"Weeks?" she repeated, her voice distant. "Weeks…" Ikuto watched her face, confused, as she frowned again and laid out a mental timeline of events in her brain. "Ikuto," she eventually began - hesitant, treading over her own words tentatively; "How many weeks have I been on this ship?"

Ikuto paused, the weight of her question suddenly laying heavy on his chest. He had barely thought about it. "Almost five weeks." Ikuto answered honestly.

"Oh…"

A shadow fell across her face, her voice wavering. Ikuto waited at the door patiently.

"Five weeks away…" Amu whispered, absently rolling the slice of lemon about between her fingertips. "What will everyone think?"

There was a lengthy silence then as Ikuto watched her - watched the grief overcome her features; watched her shoulders sag and the spark in her eyes begin to fade. Her heart still longed for home. The Captain had dealt her wounds that would not be healed. And, instead of yelling at him to leave her be like Ikuto had thought she might, Amu barely paid attention to him. She didn't even bother to hide the tears that glistened on her cheeks. She sat at the table, a mere shadow, downtrodden, hardly caring that one of her captors was still stood in the doorway.

Ikuto didn't know why the sight tore at his heart, but, for whatever reason, he felt like he couldn't stand it any longer. Perhaps a little harsher than he'd intended, he let out a low chuckle.

"Oh, you have no idea, Princess," he began, lips curling into an unexpectedly amused smirk. Her head shot up. "That ex- fiancé of yours… The Commander. He's overtaken dozens of ships since he set out for you."

It wasn't good news to a pirate, but to Amu–

"He's what?" the Princess jumped to her feet, hardly caring as the chair tipped over behind her. "Tadase set out for me?"

–well, it was news enough that Ikuto saw her golden eyes alight with hope. He watched, satisfied, as her face broke out into the brightest grin he had ever seen.

"They didn't give up!"

~.~.~

The days passed, each as the one before it, and the weeks drew on sluggishly as the frigate languidly chugged its way over the waves. To the far northern reaches of the sea that stretched between Seiyo and the eastern continent Tadase had journeyed, maintaining his watch on the waters, searching so desperately far and wide for that fated ship that somewhere carried the light of his life - that smudge of pink against grey, as bright as the sun, yet shielded from view.

More and more vessels he sprung upon and tore apart and cast adrift, left to voyage on crewless and ghostly across the ocean. Many a ship's colours had been torn and tattered and burnt, scorched in gunfire, before the Commander's eyes and been left to hang lifelessly upon the masts, now dominated by the symbol of Seiyo. There began to spread a fear and confusion quite unlike anything anyone could ever remember. Buccaneers as far as the exotic eastern seas halfway across the globe began to speak in anxious tones and hushed whispers of the savage royal mariners of the west who preyed upon them like dogs on the hunt - creeping out of the sea spray like beasts from the mist; rising from the waves as sea monsters and tearing those unsuspecting crews apart, leaving their crafts to sail forevermore, navigated by the souls of those who fell upon their decks. Trapped and unforgiving their spirits were and their wails of torment rang in the wind as it blew through the sails; through the hatchways that still echoed with cannon fire and across gun decks still smoking. Their planks were still stained with blood; their flags soiled; they struck such fear within the hearts of fellow pirates that they fled at the first sight of any wreckage, even if their path of flight led them into further fatal perils and, in this way, many other unfortunate men had met their end.

Yet Tadase was somewhat comforted. He had heard those rumours of haunted vessels - he head heard those whispers carried across the sea breeze to his own cabin and he was glad, for surely his message would have reached the pirates that held his fiancée hostage by now. He hoped that they too had been struck to the soul by fright. He hoped that they were cowering and quivering in their pathetic little holes, too scared to face the light of day and he chuckled sadistically.

And so he would wait and bide his time and, more patiently than ever, he still looked to the day when he would finally lay his hands on the culprits and serve out the King's own justice. As it was, their brigs had been occupied almost constantly with their own captives. Only a few days ago several of their ever-growing fleet had rounded up the majority of their prisoners and turned back to Seiyo, their hulls full of pirates and Captains awaiting their judgement. Tadase thought that perhaps he had a chance to rid the seas of those scoundrels once and for all. He had never guessed that they would come across so many unlawful men scattered about the world and yet here it appeared that they had begun some sort of purge. None yet had been those he was looking for… Yet there would be many, many more hiding in the dark and dirty, secluded little places in this world.

It would only be a matter of time before he hit his target.

And, as it turned out, Tadase was quite right to be optimistic, for it was not long after the faithful party had set out from Seiyo that Captain Kazuomi Ichinomiya, settled comfortably on his own Shining Black, had received word that the King's search had begun. But Kazuomi had always been a cunning man; a clever man; as cunning as a fox and as sharp as a saber and so he had doubted that he would ever have been so slack as to find himself captured by those pitiful servants of the King's… Yet time ticked on. The waves kept rolling. The breeze lessened in their sails and brought to him the name of that Commander who had seen fit to instigate this cleansing of the seven seas. Kazuomi would glance anxiously out his window and he would wonder… Just how had Hotori managed to fell so many men in such a space of time?

But then he laughed. Laughed. He laughed and howled and cackled with such ruthless mirth that it was as though a chill from the north had suddenly blast throughout the cabin. The air turned to frost upon the grimy surfaces; the hairs on his neck stood on end; Daichi would screech and squawk and flap, flustered, as the Captain cursed the Commander and the sorry lives of all his men, vowing to any deity that would listen that they would never - never until the end of days! - lay a finger upon his Shining Black and the prize she kept within her. Of that prize he kept great watch. He observed Amu with a twisted sense of glee and watched, satisfied, as she grew weaker and weaker with each passing day. Kazuomi sat back in his seat at his desk, thoroughly pleased. A lack of decent meals was finally taking its toll upon her.

Or, at least, it did… Until very recently - and very strangely. He saw that change, his gaze as piercing as a hawk, and he slammed his fist upon the table.

And so the Captain brooded. Tadase continued to strip the seas bare. And Amu's life was, as ever, continuing on as normal after that - after the horrors of her dreaded illness had at last begun to lift; to fade away like clouds parting after a storm to let the rays of the sun shine bright upon the earth - and she thought that, slowly, she might have started to revert back into her usual self. As the usual, young woman she had first been when she had set foot aboard the Shining Black.

But, for Ikuto, the clouds still rolled on overhead. The rain pouted. The sun would not touch the ground beneath his feet. For him, things had begun to take an unexpected turn.

~.~.~