Within hours, Yumi's soft breathing fills the cabin as Shouta watches his fiancee drift off to sleep in his arms, her hands forming a protective shield in front of her face as his hands work at her back. At first, she fought sleep, only allowing dreamland to overtake her when Shouta assured her for the fifth time that he wasn't angry at her, after which the noises of the harbor quickly put Yumi to sleep. Despite how peaceful her rest looks and how much Shouta wishes he could roll over and sleep beside her, he knows that he can't rest just yet. He has something he needs to do, something that needs to be done quickly and while the moon is still high in the sky.
When her breathing has leveled out, Shouta slides from the bed, tucking the blanket under her chin and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She stirs from the movement, muttering groggy, incoherent words to him before he plasters a big smile on his face, his lips mere inches from her skin. "I'm just going to relieve myself and get some air, my love," he whispers against her skull, "go back to sleep. I'll return soon." Yumi nods, turning back onto her side and cuddling a pillow as Shouta walks towards the door, careful to grab the sword lying by the door and the pistol discarded on his desk without making a sound.
Shouta has never been so grateful to be among drunken sailors as he is that night sneaking onto his dimly lit deck, the carousing from other boats creating the perfect amount of distraction that no one notices him walking about. It took him a while to determine the origin of those earrings as well as the captain to whom they belonged to, but sometime during Yumi's slumber, Shouta remembered seeing those very same patterns on another ship's sail across the harbor, a mere walk from where his own ship was docked. If he's careful, Shouta knows he can make it there and back before Yumi wakes to notice he's still gone.
He tucks the sword into the scabbard attached to his hip, taking quiet, cautious steps as he crawls down the ladder and onto the cobblestone path, and, for a second, Shouta almost can't believe what he's about to do. He's always prided himself for his diplomacy and level headedness, and murdering a man in near cold blood is certainly neither of those things. He could only imagine what his uncle would think of him if he knew what he was about to do.
No. Shouta had accepted that he would be nothing like his Uncle Shingo a long time ago. He had been born into ruthless circumstances, and it was only a matter of time before his past caught up to him. He would never squander his guardian's kindness to him by becoming a pirate, but Shouta knows deep down that he isn't much of a gentleman either.
He arrives at Chisaki's ship expecting to find it dark and shut up for the night, but, much to Shouta's surprise the ship's deck is dimly lit, and footsteps echo from above him. Although it's well past midnight, the ship's gangplank is still down, indicating Chisaki either just returned or is expecting visitors, and Shouta merely checks his sheath for his sword as well as the holster containing his pistol before removing it. He takes careful steps, careful to ensure his boots don't thud against the ship's planks as he journeys up to the deck only to find Chisaki's back to him as he stares out at the sea. Shouta creeps behind him, thinking his first murder is about to the easiest feat of his life until Chisaki's shoulders hunch forward, and airy chuckles fill the night air.
"You're not much of an assassin, Commodore." Shouta nearly fires the gun then, but Chisaki delivers a shift kick to Shouta's arm, sending the weapon flying across the deck and nearly into the water. Almost immediately, Shouta grabs the handle of his sword, brandishing the weapon at Chisaki, who responds by pointing his own pistol in Shouta's face. Though he attempts to keep his expression steady, Shouta realizes some of his surprise must have crept onto his features, for Chisaki only shrugs.
"You aren't the first man who's tried to kill me," he states matter of factly, "although this might be the first time it's been over a girl."
"You ruined her life," Shouta hisses through bared teeth despite the metal barrel glaring directly into his eyes. Chisaki only gives him a small noise that exists somewhere between a huff and a laugh in response.
"Is that what she told you?" he questions, "Because I regret to inform you that I haven't been the only one she allowed to touch her."
"She was a child."
"A child who was old enough to know better," Chisaki replies carelessly. "What? Do you plan to shoot every man in Musutafu who's laid a hand on her?" Shouta knows he has to get the gun out of Chisaki's hand, but he's been in enough standoffs to know trying to disarm his opponent would result in his death. Yumi would never forgive him if he didn't come back to her.
"I'm here to duel," he says after a moment of contemplation. Chisaki raises an eyebrow, almost as if he's genuinely considering the offer.
"You'd risk getting shot over that girl?"
"I'd cut my heart out if she asked me to." Chisaki must be amused by the display, for he drops his arm, a smirk spreading across his lips.
"After you, Commodo—"
With Chisaki's guard down, Shouta slashes the sword into the royal's arm, and the gun falls onto the ground only for Shouta to kick it away. Chisaki bellows, his screams ripping through the night air and mixing with the music and drunken yelling from the other ships. "You son of a bitch," Chisaki snarls, reaching for his sword as Shouta rips his own blade from Chisaki's arm, the silver edge of it dripping with gore. Despite the deep cut to his arm, Chisaki manages to brandish his weapon and meet Shouta's blade, the noises of metal on metal collision filling the air. "I expected you to have more honor than that," the duke's son hisses as Shouta parries his attack.
"Honor is reserved for honor," Shouta replies, simply. Chisaki's arm is leaking blood, evidenced by his less than refined combat, and Shouta knows he can easily win this if he manages to retrieve one of the discarded guns. He jumps out of the way from one of Chisaki's lunges, twisting his body to remain on his feet from the well timed attack before he reaches for Chisaki's own discarded weapon. Shouta collides with the floor, turning right as Chisaki lands a blow into his shoulder. Shouta groans in pain but still manages to fire a shot right into Chisaki's kneecap, the bone exploding as the bullet makes contact with its target. Blood spews from Chisaki along with muscle and bone fragments, wetting Shouta's face with carnage as Chisaki stumbles to the ground.
Despite his own wound, Shouta clamors onto his feet, delivering a harsh kick to Chisaki's chest. The blow sends him back, his head smacking against the deck as Shouta rests his boot on Chisaki's chest before firing a final shot into his head. Blood pours out of what remains of his skull as Shouta heaves a breath, a sense of clarity returning to his brain. The pounding in his ears abates as he lifts his arm to wipe his forehead, and Shouta notices that the harbor has grown eerily silent. The realization that he has fired not one but two shots sets in right as Chisaki's blood seeps closer to his boots, and the crimson staining snaps Shouta fully from his daze. He has minutes before someone appears on the boat and finds him.
Shouta's brain starts analyzing immediately as he collects Chisaki's body and drags it towards the edge of the railing and tosses it over, thankful for the cover of darkness and Chisaki's separation from the rest of the boats. Before the ripples from Chisaki's body's landing have ebbed, Shouta tosses Chisaki's handgun into the same disturbance in the water before collecting his own pistol and escaping the boat, and he's several kilometers away before anyone reaches the ship. Halfway around the rim of the harbor, Shouta slows his steps, watching from the treeline as the deck of Chisaki's boat grows crowded. If he had the time, he would have made an effort of cleaning up the blood to support the possibility of a suicide, but Shouta knows that even the best coverups still cast doubts.
He only hopes that Chisaki has no shortage of enemies.
Yumi doesn't think much of the empty side of the bed when she awakens a second time to find that Shouta is still gone. The esteemed commodore has a very convoluted sleeping schedule that often leads him to staying up later than her, and she's used to waking up in the middle of the night to find him out of bed and scribbling away at a map or simply out studying constellations on the deck. Even when he nestles in by her side, he usually rises once or twice out of restlessness or simply waking up earlier than she does.
However, when two gunshots crack across the harbor, sending off a chain reaction of confused yelling from surrounding boats, Yumi grows worried.
Shouta's one rule for staying aboard his ship is that she doesn't leave the boat's cabin without him, but that doesn't stop Yumi from pushing open the door and poking her head out onto the deck. While she fully expects to see him with his rusted telescope or perhaps drinking a beer with one of his crewmates, the deck is silent and empty, save for the riotous yelling from across the harbor. She walks over to the edge of the boat, the ocean air whipping through her indigo tresses, and peers over the edge, squinting as far into the distance her field of vision will allow her. There's a boat on the other end of the harbor that's fully illuminated, and the chorus of people on its deck is so loud Yumi can vaguely hear it.
At first, she assumes it's a party that perhaps got out of hand — after all, Yumi has been around sailors long enough to know what happens when they're drunk. The sight of the confused people wandering about the boat consoles her worries, and Yumi nearly chides herself for the selfish fantasy that Shouta somehow involved himself in a petty squabble over her. Knowing her betrothed's anal retentiveness, he might have even gone over to the boat himself just to investigate and provide assistance. She stares out at the ship, deciding immediately that he must be there before walking back into his quarters and securing her robe. She half debates wandering over there herself as she ties the sash into a knot until she walks out onto the deck and sees a figure approaching from the distance, its right hand covering its left shoulder.
Panic sets in immediately as Yumi rushes back into the cabin, tremors settling into her hands while she attempts to undo her sash. She knows it's Shouta, able to discern his movements and posture from miles away, and Yumi doesn't even want to think about why he could be covering his shoulder or why he would be returning back onto the ship after being absent for so long. Yumi continues to struggle with her robe until his footsteps hit the deck, and she simply decides removing it fully and throwing it beneath the bed is a better alternative to his catching her awake, and she's fully under the sheets right as the door opens.
He steps into the cabin, his movements stopping as he stands in the doorway, and Yumi swears she can feel his eyes on her, that his ears can hear the sound of her pounding heartbeat, that he knows that she knows. However, after a moment, he only offers a sigh of relief into the darkness before he begins moving about the cabin's interior. She hears his clothes shuffling as heavy pants hit the floor along with his shirt and the two distinct thuds of his boots before he walks into the back corner of the cabin where her washtub lays. Water splashes as he submerges his hands, and Yumi hears his quiet grumbles and curses as he flicks his hands in the air. He walks away before returning to the bowl to wring a rag in the water before Yumi hears him wince.
"At least it doesn't need stitches," he mutters.
Yumi doesn't make a sound, fearful of what could happen if he knows she's awake, if he finds out that she has an inkling of an idea where he's been. She doesn't know what he needs stitches for and knows that she will never find out. Shouta won't breathe another word of this for as long as he lives, and Yumi knows she'll descend into the dirt taking his secret right with her. He's done something horrible, but Yumi is almost astounded at how little she cares about it at the moment, wanting nothing more than for him to come to bed, so she can express her gratitude physically.
After a few more splashes of water, Shouta returns to the bed, and Yumi chokes down a giggle at the irony of him shoving his bloody clothes under the bed where her robe lays. She imagines the sleeves of his thick overcoat wrapping around the silk of her delicate robe as it crumples to the floor over its companion right as Shouta's heavy muscles touch the bed. He's careful not to drag his legs against her body as he crawls over her, but he drapes his large arm over her frame once he's settled in, burying his lips into the back of her head and taking a deep breath.
Yumi lies there for several minutes, waiting for him to say something. Shouta's body is tense and heavy behind her, his arm relaxed against her but his muscles weigh down on her, and Yumi realizes that the gravity of his actions must be crashing down on him. She contemplates saying something to him, letting him know that she loves him and that he will forever be a hero in her eyes, but Yumi knows that's not what he wants. He wants to feel better, but words will do nothing to assuage whatever storm his thoughts have turned into. Men don't like to talk. He may not even want what she's about to implicitly offer him, but he needs to know that she is awake and here for him in whatever way he wants.
Yumi brushes against him, sending a jolt through him that he quickly recovers from before relaxing into her body. Immediately, she feels some of the tension leave his body as she offers a squeaky yawn before turning her head over her shoulder. "Are you back so soon?" she questions dumbly in the voice she knows makes men want to pamper her; and, as much as Yumi tries to convince herself that this is solely for his own peace of mind, she can't help but feel a shiver of self-satisfaction when she hears that rumbling laugh bubbling in his throat that indicates he thinks he's gotten away with it. As much as Yumi holds him in regard above other men, there's a certain power in knowing that she can still squeeze him between her fingers and mold him into whatever she desires.
"It's been more than a little while, precious," he croons into her ear, the pride in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. He's proud of himself for killing a man, utterly ecstatic in his belief that he's deceived her, and Yumi loves that he believes he's so in control and is so confident in what he's done. It makes her feel important, her body feeling so warm that she nearly melts into a pile of happy goo in the sheets when he presses his mouth against her ear and whispers, "There was an incident on another boat."
"Oh?" she whispers, thrilled at how groggy and submissive she can make her voice on a whim. He's testing not only her but also chance as well, and Yumi adores it, loves being able to stroke his ego and make him feel like the most powerful man on earth. "What happened?" He nips at her ear, chuckling in a low, prideful baritone as his arms curl around her tighter while Yumi gasps.
"Two drunk idiots probably got into a fight," he mutters, his voice putting on its own act as he adds a deliberate careless tone to his voice, and Yumi is impressed by his effort while still reveling in her own deception. His hands begin to wander, his left palm going to cup one of her breasts, while the other travels to her sex, and his stubble brushes against her cheek. "Did you sleep through it?"
"Sleep through what?" she questions, turning to him wide eyed and batting her lashes and giving him the perfect opportunity to wrap his elbow around her neck and tilt her face to his.
"The gun shot."
"Oh," she replies, airily, "I didn't hear it. I suppose I was asleep."
"You must have been," he confirms, the subtle dark chuckle in his voice riling her, but the relief in his voice is unmistakable. "And here I was worried you were scared here all by yourself." Yumi giggles as his hand between her legs begins to move, and she pauses for a moment of contemplation before delivering the response she knows will delight him more than anything.
"Why would I worry when I have you around to protect me, Sir?"
A noise of satisfaction boils in his throat as he presses his lips to her, his mouth hungry for her, and Yumi simply closes her eyes and relaxes into his advances, proud of herself for being able to build him up while still manipulating him like putty. Years ago, Yumi wouldn't have believed she would one day find a man who could treat her like a doll made of the finest porcelain immediately after sending a man to a watery grave, but Commodore Shouta Aizawa is real and whispering sweet words of affection in between open mouthed kisses. Yumi pushes against his grip, signaling that she wants to turn around. He responds in turn by pushing her onto her back as his hands begin work of removing his nightshirt from her body.
Yumi knows this moment of bliss won't last forever, but she wishes she could stop time as Shouta's arms wrap around her bare back before his cock plunges into her. Dead men tell no tales, but she knows that murder demands justice and justice demands sacrifice. Tomorrow morning will be filled with gossip that will ultimately lead to interrogations and investigations, and Yumi knows that her manipulations have only just begun. No one can ever know what Shouta did tonight in her name, and Yumi vows that she will die for him right as he buries his face into her shoulder and tells her that he loves her.
"I'd bleed for you, I would die for you," Shouta keens, his face pressed against hers, his eyes communicating what Yumi knows is a desire to be honest with her as well as the fear of her knowing the truth and despising him for it, "Oh, God, I love you."
Yumi only giggles, sounds that Shouta will never know the true origins of as long as she can help it.
"I love you too."