Disclaimer- I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or Pirates.


The Next Morning - Tortuga

Tortuga was, by all means, a vile and filthy city. The streets were never clean, the walls were brown and dirty and there was a stench in the air that never seemed to fade. The air wasn't the only thing that smelled; men and women alike flooded the streets, their breath a horrid mix of morning breath and stale alcohol. This, combined with their mounting body odor, was enough to make anyone want to retch. Koenma resisted such an urge as he plowed through the streets, pulling his hat further down on his head and avoiding all eye contact with the women calling for his attention as they perched on various barrels of rum.

Finding supplies to take with him had been simple enough, though he wasn't sure how much longer his food was going to last. He hadn't bothered taking a change of clothes, as that would only slow him down. The food he had brought was carried in a small bag which was slung over his shoulder. Koenma hoped he didn't look too much like a servant and looked more like a pirate, though even he knew the chances of that were slim to none.

The sun was still high overhead and the sky was almost clear with but a few lazy clouds drifting about. Between hauling his supplies, wearing several thick layers of clothing and the heat from the sun beating down on him, a sweat had broken out on his brow. He longed to remove his hat and find lighter clothing but such was not an option lest he be discovered before he made himself known.

The plan was to find his father's crew, the one he had been a part of prior to his death, beg for mercy and ask that they assist him in the rescue of Botan, Lady Yukina and Lady Keiko, the Governor's daughter. It had seemed like a good idea to begin with, though now Koenma was housing serious doubts. What reason was there for pirates of all people to help someone working under the Queen? He would have to barter for their services, though there was no guarantee that even then they would agree to help. But Koenma felt he had something they would work for.

No, Koenma felt he had something they would die for.

The tavern door swung open with a loud creak. He winced but no one paid him any mind; they were too caught up in their own business, which was comprised entirely of drinking rum for the most part, to worry about any strangers. Seeing as no one was about to notice him, he let the door fall back with a slam behind him. He took a cautious step forward, still unsure of his new surroundings. There were a few pirates lined up against the bar that looked particularly vicious and even those who appeared to be quite sober seemed ready to attack if need be.

It was then, and only then, that Koenma realized he had no idea who he was searching for looked like.

He almost turned and headed back home then and there, but stopped himself from doing so for two reasons: one, it had been quite difficult getting to Tortuga in the first place and it would be next to impossible to get back anytime soon, and two, thoughts of Botan and the horrible things those pirates were doing to her were enough to fuel his drive to save her. So, rather than turn back and forget the entire incident had ever happened, he found himself marching to a table in the back of the tavern, making sure to keep his head low and not make eye contact with anyone.

The table he chose was positioned in such a way that he had a decent view of the entire building. If the pirates he was looking for were here, which in itself was highly unlikely, no doubt this would be their first and, quite possibly, only stop. The pirates he were looking for were, as far as he knew, a bit more 'classy' than your average buccaneer and it didn't seem likely that they would pull in to Tortuga to begin with. Even so, he kept his eyes peeled for anyone that appeared to be more than a washed-up pirate chugging rum.

Unfortunately, now that he had a better look, it seemed he was the only sober man within a mile radius.

Koenma sighed and tipped his hat up, several strands of brown hair falling into his eyes and blocking his view. He frowned and brushed them away with an irritated sigh. This entire plan seemed to be utterly pointless. It was extremely likely that he would be unable to find the right pirates. If that did happen, where would that leave him? He wouldn't know where to start or what to do in order to fetch the girls properly and safely.

In short, he was doomed.


Crimson eyes glared on at the scene being played out before him. His lip was raised in a slight snarl, revealing the glint of what could almost be mistaken for a fang in his disgust. It was nothing more than the typical beer brawl, though it made him almost reconsider his decision to join his shipmates in their search. Aside from his crew, he found most humans to be utterly pathetic; this only proved his case.

"And we really want to be just like them?" He shifted his gaze from the fight to his taller companions. The shorter of the two raised his lips in a soft smile.

"I doubt your high standards will allow us to sink so low," he mockingly chided.

"He's not here," the other said. He was the tallest of the three. "What makes you think he'd be here, anyway? He's gotta know we're looking for him."

"He has nowhere else to go. With a father for a pirate his options will be severely limited."

"And if he runs," Hiei added as he fingered the hilt of his blade, "we'll still find him."

"Yes, well, try to cap the amount of bloodshed," Kurama warned, emerald eyes narrowing into a stern glare as he stared down at the smaller man. "If we can get him willingly, then let us do so."

"We'd better stop at the tavern before we leave," Kuwabara reminded as they made their way around the fight. "Chuu was moaning about the last of his killer." Kurama nodded and couldn't help but look amused as Hiei charged ahead, muttering something about 'bloody Australian pirates and their alcohol'. By the time they arrived at the musty tavern, Hiei had already headed inside, the door still swinging on its hinges after his forceful entrance.

As a trio they selected a table well enough away from the bar, settling into their chairs as if they'd been there their entire life. Although they were more of a civilized band of pirates (to some extent), one couldn't consider themselves to be a pirate at all if they hadn't docked up in Tortuga and had a good drink. As such, they had found themselves in the tavern more than they cared to admit, usually due to Chuu's constant complaint of lack of rum. Even still they weren't considered regulars and, quite thankfully, their entrance went, for the most part, unnoticed.

"We need a plan," Kurama stated, glancing between his friends. "Or else we'll never find him."

"Does he even know we're after him?" Kuwabara asked, raising a brow.

"He has to know," Hiei snapped, growing impatient. He just wanted to find the kid and get the hell out of there. "How else has he evaded us for so long?"

"Three years is plenty of time to get himself killed as well," Kurama added, narrowing his eyes. "We can't be sure he's even still alive." They fell into a thoughtful silence, each attempting to come up with some means of making their search easier. The young man they were looking for wouldn't, more likely than not, come willingly. Thus they would need a plant hat was discreet yet effective if they ever hoped to find him.


Koenma appeared to be the only one who noticed the strange man enter the tavern. He was obviously a pirate and, from the glare he was giving most of the other 'customers', a deadly one at that. Aside from the look that clearly stated he would kill all those who annoyed him in any form, shape or manner, he looked rather odd. Although short he was quite intimidating. A sword hung from his waist on his left, a pistol on his right. A strip of white cloth was tied around his forehead, a few strands of what seemed to be gravity-defying hair reaching over to just above his red eyes. His pants were black and dirty, as were his worn boots. His shirt was the same faded black as his slacks, topped with what Koenma assumed had once been a white vest that had clearly seen better days.

The strange pirate was quickly joined by two other men whom were just as odd, though much taller than their scary companion. The shorter of the two had thick red hair, several strands of which were decorated with multi-colored, mis-matched beads. His pants were brown, topped with a white shirt and tan vest that hung down to his mid-thigh. In spite of his long shirt, a belt was wound around his waist and from it hung a blade and gun nearly identical to the shorter man's weapons.

The third man had a striped, orange bandana covering his head, a few strands of vibrant orange hair poking out, only just visible. The strands which tied the knot hung down to the ends of his neck, were they cut off at the white and blue striped shirt he wore. The sleeves had, at one point or another, been ripped leaving jagged edges and making it a tank-top. Two brown cuffs adorned his wrists, matching his brown boots. His pants were black and had ragged ends. In addition to the pistol, he sported two swords as his waist.

Koenma watched as they chose a table on the opposite side of the room. They appeared to converse a few moments before falling into silence. Eventually the tallest moved, standing up and walking a short distance away from the table. He paused and turned, telling the other two something, before heading to the bar. Koenma stared after him until the man looked his way, and he averted his eyes back to the tabletop. It wasn't long until he found eyes on him.

He looked up, locking his gaze with a familiar pair of crimson eyes. Koenma looked away again, but there was no doubt they knew he was watching them. Or had been, as he also didn't doubt that they had every intention of killing him; the look in the shorter man's eyes was all it took to tell him.

Said man must have been quite fast as in the next instant he was standing at the opposite side of Koenma's table. His redheaded companion was close behind him, though the tallest of them remained at the counter. Koenma blinked, eyes wide at the sudden approach. He wasn't sure what to say or do; obviously he was in no condition to barter.

"C-Can I help you?" Koenma stuttered, mentally cursing as he realized how stupid he sounded.

"Actually, I do believe you can," the redhead replied. His face was calm as his lips curved into a sly, dangerous smile. "Your father was Enma, was he not?"

"So he was with your crew." Koenma had heard enough stories of the infamous pirates his father had tagged along with for most of his life; he had always failed to mention, however, what they looked like.

"We have a proposition for you," Kurama began, his smile growing. They had the right kid; this had to be him. Who else would waltz around pirate town looking like a civilized person?

"And I have a proposition for you," Koenma quickly countered just as Kurama opened his mouth to speak. The pirate stood there, mouth agape in shock that he had been interrupted, when Hiei spoke.

"You are in no position to be making deals, boy," he snapped. Kurama shut his mouth.

"You want my blood," Koenma continued, his eyes locked on Kurama as he ignored Hiei. He seemed to be the reasoning one of the trio and, if anyone would listen or even consider his deal, it would be him. "You want my blood. I want to rescue my.. ah, friends and you're the only ones who can do it. You help me, and I'll give you my life." The two pirates fell silent as Kuwabara made his way over to their table, the look on his face expressing his confusion quite clearly. They took up seats together, Hiei in the middle with Kuwabara on his right, Kurama on his left. The latter leaned forward, arms resting on the table as he folded his hands together. His intense green eyes focused on Koenma and, rather than look suspicious as they had moments before, they held a curious gleam.

"Go on."