Seijuro could feel his crew growing restless, nerves stretched to the breaking point with excitement and fear. It was a testament to their discipline that they were not howling for his head on a platter. The Samenoe was well within range of their cannons, had been for some time now. Every man aboard knew it, every man aboard wondered privately why the captain hesitated.
Half of the answer was in the galley, up to her elbows in water and lye, hands trembling with eagerness- it was a miracle she had only dropped one pan and not every one of their limited supply of dishes. Sei had placed her there by design, unable to bear another moment of her hopeful looks and nigh constant questions. Kou thought this reunion would be a joyous one: her prodigal brother welcomed back into the fold. That was a privilege money and rank might have bought him once, but the influence of the Matsuoka clan was not so great that they could save their heir from prosecution. Likely even execution.
The thought did not trouble Sei particularly, at least not for Rin's sake. For Kou, though… whether she knew it or not he had been a hairbreadth away from calling off the search before he had spotted the tell-tale markings of the Samenoe through his spyglass. Sei knew his duty, and it trumped even his growing fondness for the bold woman still gamely playing at being cabin boy. Any other lady would have given up by now, demanded better quarters and finer clothes, an immediate return home if she had dared to stow away aboard the ship at all.
Matsuoka Kou was made of sterner stuff. After so long at sea, her hair had been bleached by sun and her skin bronzed by its unforgiving rays. Her hands had lines of work and rough patches that would catch on the soft gowns she should have been wearing. She had to know that even if she succeeded in finding her brother, her return would be greeted with incredulity and anger, her virtue called into question, somehow made less by her courage in the eyes of her peers.
For the sake of that courage, he had hesitated to order the destruction of the ship.
And if he killed the heir to the Matsuoka clan, their collective wrath would fall on his head as well. It was this consideration that had so far silenced the discontented murmurings of his crew. If Rin were not taken alive, their careers would be over, any opportunity for advancement suddenly and irrevocably snatched away. Not one of them wanted to chance it, bad enough that they harbored a woman aboard their ship, they would not welcome any more such misfortunes.
"We could turn back. We're out of imperial waters, our writ doesn't extend this far."
"Momotarou." Sei greeted softly, still drifting in his thoughts. He had considered turning back more than once, but with the Samenoe in view he could not justify it in his heart.
An opportunity like this could be years in coming once more. Years in which Rin and his crew would wreak a merry havoc on anyone and everyone they happened across. Their piracy had not been restricted solely to civilian vessels, even the imperial navy had suffered losses at their hands. How then could he justify their escape now?
"We can't turn back now. It's drifting. We won't have a chance like this again."
Momotarou stepped forward to lounge beside him, sighing heavily. They were much alike, his brother and he, but Momotarou had ever been more concerned with the letter of the law. And the letter of the law said plainly it was their duty to return to the mainland and report their findings.
"Finish the job and blast them out of the water, why don't you." He growled in frustration, grimacing at the words that fell so easily from his tongue.
"And alienate the Matsuokas?"
"He's a pirate, they've declared him anathema."
"That's only a word, blood runs thicker. If we kill Rin now, they will suddenly remember that he is their beloved heir. Reparations will have to be made, likely beginning with grounding us."
"Then it's settled, we turn back."
"It's not settled."
"It is. If you're not willing to take this to its natural conclusion then the only alternative is to turn back. The crew won't be happy, but they would like it even less if we told them they were cannon fodder so we could bring back one man. None of them want a direct confrontation. Ergo, we must make use of the cannons-which are there for this specific purpose- or turn back."
Sei's lips thinned with displeasure. They were so damn close. He couldn't admit defeat now, it wasn't in him. Yet he had no authority outside of imperial waters, thus no authority to compel his crew to follow him. They were not so fond of him as to risk a court-martial, not without the promise of significant reward. Perhaps he could claim that Rin's ship was low in the water because it was laden with pirate gold. But that would be easily disproved once the battle was won. If he goaded his men into battle on such a frail excuse, they would mutiny. Imperial law would not stretch far enough to protect him from it.
"I could ask for volunteers. Put into the nearest port, outfit a faster ship; we could run him down again."
"By that time he will have reached a haven, and Kou will be forced to stow away all over again." Momotarou's smile was warm enough to send a spike of sudden and unexpected jealousy coursing through Sei's veins.
Momotarou had made no secret of his fondness for her, but seeing it so plainly displayed for all to see angered Sei for reasons he hardly dared to contemplate.
It was he that had discovered her, his quarters she slept in, him that she teased and cajoled at every opportunity- Kou had, quite simply, fascinated him. It should not have shocked him at all to find that his brother shared his liking for her, but it did. And he should not have been contemplating bloodying his own brother's nose over it, but he was.
He was a better man than this. He was a better captain than this, which only went to show he had been far too long out of civilized company.
Sei very pointedly turned his back on his brother, on his first mate and closest friend. "Unless you have another ship to hand, I have no choice but to push them onward."
Momotarou shook his head slowly, but he saluted nevertheless: "Aye, captain. Be it on your head."
"What's on his head?"
Kou's cheerful voice made them both leap with surprise, though Sei was marginally quicker to regain his composure.
"The weight of rank." He called back, taking in her neat appearance.
After working all through supper in the galley, scrubbing the dishes and the floor, helping the cook wherever he needed a hand, she should have been sweaty, disheveled and pining for a bath. It was clear that she had been at pains to tidy up: the dress she wore he had only seen once, that first night when he stumbled across her in the hold. Her hair was pulled back with one of Seijuro's own ties, she had taken a brush to it until it nearly shone, and if she still wore her boots, they were at least blackened and polished the way he had taught her. It was enough to rob him of words for all of a moment.
Momotarou leapt thoughtlessly into the void of silence: "You look beautiful."
Was it strictly treason if he tossed his mate into the sea and no one else was there to witness it?
"I don't want Rin to bark at me." She grimaced, absently tucking a stray strand behind a delicate ear.
Of course. She thought she would see her brother today. She had visions of them crying truce and discussing the matter like gentlemen with a bloodless surrender to follow. Momotarou shot him a speaking glance. As captain, that was his choice to make in theory, and to explain when he proved her wrong.
"You're dismissed." He murmured on a heavy breath, bracing himself for her tears and recriminations. This was going to be an ugly business, and he wanted no one else present for it. Hell, he would have handily wished himself away if it were possible.
His first mate vanished faster than the mist on a summer morning, leaving even less sign of his passing.
Seijuro drew himself to his full height, drawing an air of authority about him like a cloak- armor more like. "I hope you understand, miss, that this will not be a happy reunion."
"He is my brother. There is no ill will between us." She smiled, bright and quick, "Well, not too much anyway."
"You understand that piracy is a serious crime. Your brother commandeered a ship, attacked vessels bearing an imperial seal, he consorts with criminals and traitors-"
"But he is still my brother."
"He is a great deal more than that. If a plea for clemency is approved, he will still spend the remainder of his life rotting in prison. If it is not…"
She took his meaning very well, he could see it in the tightness of her jaw and the set of her feet. "You're tasked with catching him, not passing judgment."
"I am tasked with bringing him to justice, which you well know can mean anything from escorting him home to summary execution."
"You wouldn't." Kou choked, voice fading on the last word. For the first time she was plainly uncertain, fearful even. "You wouldn't." A plea this time, harsh and grating but nevertheless a plea for mercy.
"If Rin will not surrender, then I have no other choice."
"You said yourself we are outside imperial waters. We could turn back-"
"He's too close. If I let him go now, then any blood he sheds will be on my hands."
"And if you don't, then Rin's will."
"Whether I catch him up today or in a year's time, the result will still be the same."
"This isn't…" Kou trailed off, wrapping her arms tightly about herself, shutting her eyes and shaking her head viciously. "You don't have to. You said his ship is damaged; he'll surrender. We'll take him home. My family has-"
"What do you imagine will happen to the men who sail with him? The brig is too small to hold even the half of them; even if we had the room, we do not have the supplies. He won't abandon them. No good captain would."
They stood in silence for a handful of moments, both looking toward the looming specter of the Samenoe with the same expression of trepidation. Kou worried at her lip, uncaring that it cracked and bled; Sei considered offering his kerchief, but it was just as likely she would throw it back in his face and take herself off to the galley again. He clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring hatred at the ship across the water. Piracy had been a choice for Matsuoka Rin, no dire circumstance had pushed him to it, no more than a rampant sense of adventure and a taste for profit.
Sei hated him, hated him until it would have meant less than nothing to plunge a foot of steel into his chest but for the woman at his side.
"You have another idea or you would have readied the cannons by now." Kou spoke decisively, glancing over at him with something of her old exuberance. She trusted him more than she had a right. More than he had a right.
"Momotarou has already laid out in painstaking detail the many ways in which it is impractical."
"But you do have a plan." Her smile had returned, no shade of hesitance or doubt to haunt it. He was hardly required to explain himself to a cabin girl, even one born of merchant blood, but that smile promised forgiveness and he was helpless to resist.
"My crew is uneasy. They dislike venturing beyond our writ. If we return to the mainland, I can commission another ship- one that does not fly the colors- and return. The Samenoe will have to put into port for repairs and there are very few places a corsair's profit would be welcome. Assuming a fair wind and tide it will still take days for them to reach safe harbor, and days beyond that before she's fit for sailing again. If I had a fast ship and a small crew, I could abduct him and his officers. We could have them back in imperial waters and subject to our laws in a handful of days. Beyond that, it would become a matter for the court."
Kou's slender hand clamped his forearm in a vice-grip, made strong during her time at see. "Please. Please do it. Bring him home and leave the court to the court."
"It would take time, and the moment we make shore you will be escorted back to your home if you are not arrested for impersonating a member of the navy. I will have to answer for my conduct with regards to you."
"There has to be another way, dammit." She bit out, glaring out toward the Samenoe again. For once, Sei didn't have the heart to reproach her.
They stood in silence for a few moments more, Kou grinding her teeth just loud enough for him to hear. His first inclination was to offer her an apology, his second to offer comfort; the first went against his training, and the second might well be taken as an insult. Treading dangerous waters and acutely aware of it, he stepped back to gather her hair up in his hands, pulling the tie loose with an artless flourish.
Kou's hand flew back to clamp over his own, annoyance and curiosity mingled in equal measure when she spoke: "What are you doing?"
"Your tie was uneven. It would reflect rather poorly on me as a captain if I allowed you to wander around all askew."
Slowly her hand fell away, but he couldn't be sure whether it was his proximity or only a passing fancy that made it seem as though her shoulders had tensed and squared.
"Well?" She asked, flicking him an impatient glance from the corner of her eye. "Are you going to show me how it's tied?"
"Watch your tone." He muffled a curse, reminded again of everything else he had asked from her in such a short space of time. He thought he caught the faintest sign of an apologetic frown, just before she shrugged. If it wasn't quite standard protocol for an acknowledgment, he chose to overlook it just this once.
Finally his blasted fingers managed the knot; he indulged himself a second longer, combing his fingers through her hair until it was some semblance of arranged again. The dock master would likely demand it be cut when they returned, and sent home with her as a symbol of her shame. Sei would have laid his best saber she would carry it like a badge of pride; he would likely mourn its loss more than she.
"It's straight."
"I don't suppose it matters if I'm not seeing Rin."
And just like that their entente crumpled once more.
Sei thought carefully on his next words, weighing each one in the balance of conscience and duty before he dared to speak. "I give you my word, Matsuoka Kou, if I can both serve justice and take your brother alive, it will be done." It was the only vow he could bring himself to honor, but she seemed to draw some frail comfort from it, releasing a breath neither one of them had realized she had been holding.
The next moment her eyes snapped open as she turned to gape open-mouthed. "You called me Kou."
"Was I mistaken?"
"I've been begging you to call me Kou since we first met and now you finally-"
"It is a lady's name, and today you finally look half a lady." Even grave as circumstances were, he couldn't quite keep a teasing smile from his lips in the face of her indignant incredulity.
"A dress and a hair tie makes me half a lady?" She snorted, giving the lie to his words.
He hummed noncommittally as he finally turned back toward the deck and his cabin. The first matter would be determining which port could most swiftly ready a ship, the second would be deciding exactly what they must do with their interloper, and the third would be selecting his crew. Sei knew what might be required of him, but he wasn't willing to concede defeat just yet.
Kou jogged after him, swearing under her breath as the heavy boots tangled in her skirts, "Wait a moment. Do you have a plan? May I hear it? I can help."
She caught him up easily to twine an arm through his, the perfect mockery of the courtly manners her family had doubtless been at such pains to teach her. Sei took all of a second to consider it; she was Rin's sister, after all, perhaps the one who knew him best. It was as much her future at stake as his.
"If you promise to keep your own counsel until I specifically request you do otherwise." That would be the day, but he could see by her determined nod she meant to try. He slowed his steps to match her stride, and together they made their way to the anteroom off his quarters. The war room, now.
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Momotarou was waiting for them, hands clasped behind his back and legs spread in the 'at ease' position. He snapped to attention the moment Sei crossed the threshold.
Kou glanced around in confusion. It was rare that he relied on ceremony unless members of the crew were present. A hollow maw opened in the pit of her stomach, Kou was quite certain she could feel her heart falling into it. This sudden formality could mean very bad news indeed- the maps on the wall had been altered, the dividing line between imperial waters and open ocean inked pointedly in red. Red ink was among the more expensive to mix, she knew, and seldom used for anything save official communication.
It was a declaration then, subtle but telling; the only objection a loyal crew would offer, but an objection nevertheless.
Seijurou had spotted it too. She could tell by the mildly disapproving gaze he had fixed on it. She knew his moods well after so long aboard the ship; he was vexed at seeing his good map defaced, but he would allow the small impertinence to pass. He was wise enough to know the crew's objections could have been far more violent, and easily justifiable when the matter of a court-martial was raised.
Kou tightened her grip on his arm, drawing comfort from how steady he was, not so much as a twitch of unease.
"At ease, Momo. Did you have something for me?"
Still moving stiffly, looking more confused than anything, Momotarou proffered a thin sheet of paper, rolled so that it was no more than the length and thickness of Kou's littlest finger. She could tell from how the light shone through it that it was poor quality, less cloth than fiber. It crinkled when Sei took it, appearing impossibly delicate in his hand. He unrolled it with great care, face creased into a frown that was the perfect twin of his mate's.
"From the island?"
"It is the only explanation that makes any sense." Momo agreed, both of them thoroughly nonplussed.
A thousand questions raced behind Sei's eyes before he finally settled on one: "How did it arrive?"
Here Momo stifled a chuckle, obviously biting down on his cheek to keep from laughing. "A seagull, sir. There was some debate as to whether we should keep it in the galley or your quarters until you returned."
"Let the poor beast loose once we're done here. I want to see where it flies. I don't recall any settlements this far out."
"None." Momotarou confirmed. "The outermost edge of the island is in imperial waters, but we have staked no claim."
Kou desperately swallowed the questions that wanted to come bubbling up: What did the message say? Why did the island matter? Who would settle so far out? Why wouldn't it be claimed? Why should it matter to them? It was the purest form of torture being forced to watch and draw her own conclusions. Obviously someone must have settled the island, else who would have sent the message? But if they had unlawfully settled, then why contact an imperial ship? She rose slowly on the balls of her feet, as much as the boots would allow, and tried reading the note.
Sei's quelling glance set her back down again, albeit not as quickly as he would have liked or as gracefully as she thought.
"I will need time to consider." He sighed deeply, shoulders bending under a new weight, "Take us in and drop anchor in the shallows."
"Sir?"
There was a hint of the devil's cunning in Sei's tone when he answered, enough to assure Kou that her brother was still at the forefront of his thoughts: "The Samenoe is outside imperial waters, and drifting farther by the hour. You have said yourself the island's fringe falls within our purview. Of the two, an unauthorized settlement is a far more pressing matter."
Momo's face brightened as he snapped off a crisp salute, "Aye, sir."
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Makoto struggled to keep his breathing even and soft, a thoroughly neutral expression painstakingly etched onto his face. Losing his temper now would only cost them valuable time, a commodity they had precious little of.
Rin toiled below him, fingers tarred black with pitch and a healthy sheen of sweat covering him from head to toe, a small drop trickling down from the fringe of his dampened hair to play across the line of his throat. Mako swallowed tightly, remembering the salty tang of Haru's blood on his tongue. Not that Rin had evinced the slightest interest in his errant thoughts, no- he was on a mad flight of fancy all his own. One that was going to see the whole crew butchered and its officers hanged, but only if they were very, very lucky.
"You are stubborn." He snapped, "And a fool. This ship is dead in the water, only your sentiment keeps you from seeing that!" The unintended shout made them both jump, Mako's face instantly blushing with shame. How many years had it been since his temper had run anything but sharp and cold? Too long. Not long enough.
Rin was merciful enough to pretend he hadn't heard the manic edge of Mako's shout, but his words left them in no doubt who was in charge.
"I am the fool that commandeered this ship and the fool that is going to keep it. You're the fool that is going to help me." There was no heat in Rin's words, only a stark determination that set Mako's teeth on edge.
"Our only chance is to take what he offers. The Samenoe is crippled, Rin." Soft now, persuasive and reasonable. Rin was no land-bound whelp; he knew his craft and he knew the words for truth.
"She's not dead in the water, and I'll die before I leave her deck."
Mako drew a deep breath, another for good measure. "Not all of us share your convictions. I will not-"
"Will not what, Mako? Will not follow my orders?" Rin's tone had gone dangerously flat, a bite in the words that had not been there even a moment before.
"I did not think you would push me to mutiny." It was an empty threat. Tachibana Makoto, late of imperial intelligence, had never been in the habit of bandying empty threats or promises. He had traded on his reputation, and that included his promises. He was a shadow of the man he had been, and right when he most needed to be that man.
Rin laid aside his tools, flashing Mako an implacable stare. "If you leave now, Mako, I will hunt you down and kill you before the eyes of the crew that you deserted."
"So I may die now or I may die later." Whether Rin was truly resolved to do it, whether he could, neither one of them questioned. The headstrong boy had grown into an implacable man, and betrayal was among the only sins he could not forgive. Almost Mako was tempted to accept the challenge, if only for a taste of his halcyon days. But there were too many memories between them now, too much blood spilt and secrets shared- they were full up of death, Rin and he.
And Rin was his. He could never take the chance of placing this man's life in another's hands, not when it had been in his sole possession for so very long. Then he would truly be lost.
"I don't suppose you have a plan?"
"I do, and I will need your help to accomplish it."
Nitori swore softly to himself as he wove the tiller line, rough fibers abrading his delicate skin. His hands were not meant for this work, but his fingers were quick and nimble. They were dead in the water, set adrift at the mercy of the currents with hostiles on either side. Why they were even bothering with cursory repairs eluded him, but so long as it kept his hands from becoming idle he was willing to do the work. It kept him from dwelling too long on the intrusive thoughts plucking at the corner of his mind.
Seijuro would board in short order, Sei who knew him for what he was: a killer, fraud, a disgrace to his profession and yet the pinnacle of its achievement. They would haul him down to the brig again, with the wet and the rot and the dying things. Only until they made land, until he had grown so used to the darkness that the merest sliver of sunlight would punish his eyes and singe his skin. He had survived it once, and he would again. This time there would be no Rin to save him. No tap of boots on deck or the haunting chorus of agonized screams, the taint of gunpowder in the air or that breathless moment when he had heard the deafening click of the key in the lock-
He wove faster. If they could only repair this line, they might yet be saved. A bit of rope and a thoroughly undeserved miracle was all he needed. An infernal bargain, more like.
The creak of the door's hinges was nearly enough to send him leaping out of his skin, wide eyes flying up to meet the demanding gaze of his captain.
"Is it finished?"
Rin was alone, without the shadow of his first-mate dogging his footsteps. Nitori took solace in that. If the ship were truly in crisis, nothing would have separated them. That Makoto was not here meant he was hatching schemes elsewhere. There was a chance, however frail, that his nightmarish thoughts would not come to be.
"Almost."
Rin tugged the rope from his hands, unheeding of a hiss of pain. "It'll have to do. We don't have time for perfection."
Nitori smiled grimly, glancing at the stray fibers and the fraying at the edges- his work was a far cry from 'perfect'. "We have a chance then, captain?"
"We've been in worse spots than this." Rin strode out without so much as a by-your-leave, eyes fixed on something only he could see- Nitori hoped it was a solution. But he could not fail to notice Rin had not given him an answer.
Makoto waited on deck, already stripped down to his trousers, face painted with lines of concern. Uncertainty did not suit him well, Rin thought, but he felt an answering frown creasing his own brow. If this didn't work, and he knew in his heart of hearts there was only the frailest of chances it would, he would personally execute Nanase Haruka before going to his own watery grave.
"Their sails are tacked against the wind." Mako's voice rang out, puzzled and deeply suspicious.
Rin glanced back, wetting his dry throat with a labored swallow. He could see the Samezuka clearly without his spy glass, near enough that he fancied he could see the crew darting about the deck. Easily near enough to tear a cannonball-sized hole in his hull and send him straight to hell if Sei were of a mind to do so. That he hadn't fairly made Rin's skin crawl.
"I estimate six nautical miles, captain." Mako responded to his unspoken thought without prompting. "Under an hour."
Rin turned back, taking in Mako's slightly pale face, the minute trembling of his hands and the unforgiving grip he had on their makeshift tiller line. After all his promises, Makoto had been forced to swim deep waters not more than a day ago, and now again Rin was forced to demand it of him. Worse, he would have to work beneath the ship where the sun's light would not penetrate. In the cold and the darkness, Rin wondered briefly if he might not lose his mind.
This was the only way. As captain, he needed to be a visible presence aboard his ship, as much a commander as a figurehead. Nagisa was doubtless preparing their fire-shot and gunpowder, Rei was the best swordmaster aboard and sorely needed in the armory if a pitched battle was at all a possibility. There were simply no other men he could trust, and for all his fear of the deep Makoto was among the strongest swimmers Rin had ever met short of himself. Perhaps better than since he had been so long out of practice.
"What are you dragging your feet for? Be quick. I'll watch for you."
Makoto's reckless smile was forced. Rin had never been an interrogator, but after having kept one for so long he knew something of reading men's faces. The fact that Mako had even bothered with the effort of a show of bravado was nevertheless reassurance enough that he had made the right choice.
"I'll return shortly." He grasped the rope tightly, a final lifeline, and pushed himself over the edge to the water, Rin keeping close watch until he had at last submerged.
He glanced once more toward the Samezuka with fingers clenching white on the wood. The only reason he could imagine them holding fire was to be certain he returned alive as an example. Sei was a law-abiding man, but he had served long enough as captain to know that the laws of the land could not cover every eventuality. He had served long enough to know that if a ship ventured beyond its writ and the crew kept its mouth shut, then it had never sailed beyond its writ.
Of course, he was also wise enough to know that someone always talked, and this far out at sea there would be no rescue if somehow the battle did not go in his favor.
If Makoto could repair the tiller line, if their cannons were ready and their weapons sharp, and if lady luck was at all smiling on them, they might yet make Sanctuary. For every minute Seijuro delayed, Rin felt his spirits rise that much more- mere hours out and they would be untouchable, well within the reach of the most fearsome king Sei's crew would ever cross- one who took a very dim view of anyone that brought conflict into his neutral territory regardless of their affiliation.
The water where Mako had submerged was perfectly still, only the lightest zephyr to disturb it. Rin kept his eyes locked to the spot, willing Mako to surface quickly.
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Beneath the water, Makoto fought to keep from gasping mindlessly for air. He had forced himself to keep his eyes open, movements methodical and clean as he sliced through the surface and down, farther and farther until at last he was in the ship's shadow. The water about him was tinged the dark green of sea glass, sunlight fighting a losing battle against the depths. His mind scrambled for a calming thought, running through exercises ruthlessly drilled into him until his mental retreat became second nature.
He seized on the first convenient memory, something pleasant and still shockingly vivid even after all these years. The sounds and scents returned to him: a heavy incense in the air, silk clinging to his skin in the heat of a summer evening, a stranger's hands roaming over his exposed skin with more curiosity than finesse-
The young man was clad ruffled finery, leaning against a tree just outside the brothel, impatience obviously riding him hard. His gaze followed every customer, eyes hungrily taking in every detail as though his life depended on it, and in this district that might well be the case.
He was never still, fingers twitching or foot tapping, constantly adjusting his coat or brushing that unusual hair away from his face. Whenever he was approached though, he fell still. No movement save for the flick of his eyes and a careful adjustment of his weight. He was keenly watchful, but too arrogant by half to be nervous.
Makoto tolerated the clumsy fumbling of the boy courting his favor, apparently blind to the fact that he had long since lost the attention of his companion. Tonight he was looking for something a little more daring fare than the brave innocents that occasionally wandered in the door after too much drink. In fact, Mako saw exactly what he wanted… and it was stubbornly remaining just outside his reach despite a come-hither smile all his suitors had assured him would be the downfall of any man. Or woman for that matter.
So instead he greedily looked his fill.
That coat was the latest fashion, obviously tailored to flatter every angle and line of a strong young body. The boy's pants were looser than the tight breeches brought over from the mainland, and gathered at his hips in such a way that they would not interfere with his movement. His hair was too long for a man of his age, but Mako would have gleefully killed anyone that offered to cut it for him; he wanted nothing so much as to run his fingers through those copper and flame strands, to twine his fist viciously in the beautiful locks and pull until at last he saw a flash of sensible fear in bright eyes.
He would kiss the tears away of course, let his teeth linger a little too long as he lapped at a vulnerable throat, the threat plain but never spoken. He would never hurt the boy, no, that would be bad for business, and after so much practice he was finally learning to give pleasure without pain. Though some of his more distinguished clients had paid him handsomely for the privilege of forgetting his newly acquired inhibitions, and he found his encounters were never quite so satisfying without the merest edge of fear to spice them.
That hair, though. It was pulled back carelessly with a tie, but it brushed his shoulders even so, lending him a rakish air not the least bit diminished by his respectable attire. He could take a lesson or two on the subject of humility, and it called to every ruthlessly suppressed instinct Makoto desperately sought to keep in check.
Sensing he was under scrutiny, the man- no, boy, regardless of his age, turned back to lock eyes with Mako across the space between them.
Mako had had an easier time catching his breath after being punched in the gut than he had breathing again after the boy looked away.
To hell with pride, Mako was too intrigued by half to let a challenge like that pass unanswered. He shrugged out of the embrace of his patron, ever so carefully nudging him back in the direction of his friends with a few tactful words of refusal. The boy was too flustered to protest, and Mako was too impatient by half to waste his time soothing an inebriated manling's pride.
He glided past the other patrons and out the door, adjusting his robe so it fell just so, showing off the line of his throat and enough of a tanned chest to catch anyone's fancy. His efforts were rewarded with a slightly longer glance, almost visibly pried away. So the lad was not unaffected after all.
"Isn't it a little lonely, to watch? Hadn't you rather join?" Mako's voice was pitched just loud enough to carry, an even, melodic cadence.
The boy had a smirk on him that could have rivaled a fox for mischief. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come out."
"Oh?" Mako bridled at the implication that he had become predictable. Especially to some beardless whelp that didn't even have the spine to venture into such a tame den of iniquity. "And whatever made you think I would?"
The boy pushed away from the tree, brushing a stray petal from his hair thoughtlessly; Mako's fingers twitched with envy. "You were bored, and lonely."
Mako's laughter was clipped yet frantic. The boy was half right, and even that much was impressive for such an unschooled brat. "You think so?"
He hummed, stalking forward until he was near enough that Mako could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I recognize the look. Matsuoka Rin, merchant."
"Merchant's apprentice." Mako corrected, seeing the ink stains on his fingers, the tell-tale fraying of his cuffs. It warmed him, seeing the way the boy leapt at his words.
"How did you-"
"I recognize the look." He gave in to temptation at last, reaching out to capture a strand of scarlet hair- like red strings of fate. The thought brought a whimsical smile to his face that Rin cautiously returned.
"I wouldn't have it said that our house allowed anyone to linger about feeling bored. Come in with me, I will entertain you personally."
"Without so much as a name-"
"Tachibana Makoto. Does that set you at ease?" Here Rin would lose his nerve, make his excuses and flee. It would be days before he finally worked up the courage to accept what Mako offered. He was confident it would be worth the wait. Most pleasures were not diminished by anticipation, he found.
If anything, Rin's smile became sharper and the set of his shoulders more confident. Goosebumps raced along Mako's covered skin when Rin closed the distance between them, his last words coming on a breath of air- "Not in the slightest, but by all means-"
He gestured to the house for all the world as though he were the one giving leave to enter. Delighted, intrigued, tempted, Mako allowed him the illusion. Anything to trick him past the threshold, and once inside bind Rin until he tired of him.
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Mako understood now what it was that had pulled him so inexorably to Nanase Haruka.
Both encounters had left his fingers twitching with the need to touch, both cravings underscored ever so slightly with bloodlust, a desire to see just how far he could take his game before it ceased to be pleasure.
It was their eyes, he thought. That look that said there was nothing in him that could shock them, no cruelty they could not match. It was in the way they held themselves, deliberately open and vulnerable, a taunt, a mute challenge Mako could not help but accept.
Rin was arrogance and ambition tempered with reticence and a guilelessness that alternately fascinated and infuriated him. Enough to make the man Mako had been want to break him, see him despairing and so perfectly humbled the thought of healing, putting himself back together again piece by piece, would seem the gravest conceit. Rin was enough to make the man he was now want to tempt him into indulging the worst parts of his nature, the capriciousness and greed, the hedonistic lust for all things pleasurable.
To break him would be to tame him, and he wanted Rin as wild as he'd ever been, obstinate and proud. He saw those same qualities in Haru: the same unconscious defiance, the confidence that came of tasting defeat only rarely.
In some ways, he saw more of himself in Haru than he ever had in Rin. What had drawn him then was the magnetism of opposites, coolness to heat, night to day. In Haru he had witnessed the untempered cunning of a true amateur, the same unforgiving thirst that had driven Mako both to his greatest victories and his savage downfall.
At last he remembered: in three years of wandering, Rin and he had grown complacent, fat with success and bored with the ease of it. Now, all in the span of a few days, he could feel his own sense of ambition kindling again, old habits clamoring to be reborn. Chief among them this:
What he wanted, he took.
The darkness no longer discomfited him, and it was with a new enthusiasm that Makoto set about his work, swift and sure now that he had such pleasant thoughts for company. They would save this ship or die trying, and if all went according to plan, he would very soon be enjoying the company of Rin and Haru in his bed. There was no question of one without the other, and he had not mistaken the covetous look in Rin's eyes when he had first laid eyes on the man.
They would enjoy him together, and Mako had every faith they could persuade him to do the same, either through guile or force.
His task complete, Mako released the last of his breath and rose quickly to the surface, greedy for the air that poured into his lungs. His hands twined about the lifeline, giving a vicious tug before he finally began to haul himself bodily from the water, Rin pulling him in from above.
There was still work to be done, but provided they were still breathing come nightfall, nothing on earth or in hell was going to stop him enjoying the fruit of his labors.
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"The fire-shot is in order, cannons checked and rechecked, what gunpowder I could salvage has been. It will have to be enough." Nagisa glared at the offending barrel of saltpeter. If some misshapen son-of-a-bitch hadn't carved a damn hole in their ship, he could have done a lot more. Nagisa took a vicious delight in knowing Rin had tossed the smug bastard to Mako. A few hours under their first mate's care was enough to send even the sanest of men howling.
"Rei?" He turned back, wondering at the lack of response to find his partner hunched over a rapier, inspecting his reflection in the cool steel as he honed the blade.
After all, Nagisa's work was done and surely he had a moment or two to spare just to watch his lover at work. Rei was an artist with a blade: no manner of fighter, but he knew the keeping of the tools of the trade. It was always a pleasure to watch him at his work. A small crease would appear just between his eyes, forehead furrowing with concentration only to clear when at last he felt the sharp, straight edge his hard work had brought forth.
Now his free hand was coated in oil, the other clutching a thoroughly soiled kerchief. The hot, close confines had left him with a light sheen of sweat, and his hurried attempts to wipe it away had left him with a stubborn cowlick held in place by the slick of oil.
Taken together, he made a very charming picture of earnestness. Nagisa wanted nothing so much as to wreck it. He redirected his thoughts with an effort, reminding himself that there was a time and a place for his antics. Staring down death was neither the time nor the place. Or so Rin had been at great pains to teach him when he had first come aboard.
He sauntered over to Rei, choosing a saber and setting to work. He had never quite achieved the same level of skill as Rei, but he was as competent as the next man in the care and keeping of blades.
"How do you suppose Haruka is faring?" Nagisa nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected words. The edge of the blade caught his thumb, fortunately dull enough to leave only the smallest of cuts. He wiped it thoughtlessly on his shirt, wincing at the sting. Of all the things they needed to discuss, he settled on the most obvious topic. Nagisa supposed he should be grateful they weren't going to discuss their troublesome surgeon, but mostly he worried. If Rei was not speaking of it, that meant he was thinking on it.
Nagisa rallied, taking the bait. It was better than silence. "Far better than if Rin had given him to me, I'll wager. I could use another target."
Rei's frown deepened, tinged with concern now.
"Have you forgotten that he tried to kill us? He captured us first! Whatever Mako does to him will still be less than he deserves."
'That could easily have been me not so many years ago."
"It couldn't. I chose you."
Rei's silence was no kind of answer, but it wasn't a line of conversation they had time to pursue. The door flew open, Rin pausing just long enough on the threshold for his eyes to adjust to the dimness before he was barking orders in fine form.
"Rei, we need a navigator on deck. Set course for Sanctuary and keep an eye on the Samezuka; she may be turning back."
The rapier dropped forgotten from Rei's hands as he sprinted out to the deck, already making for his favorite perch to confirm with his own eyes that it was true.
Nagisa lifted the rapier, moving it carefully to the pile of finished blades- this one's edge was a great deal sharper and he didn't fancy being cut.
"How is the armory coming?"
"The shot is prepared, captain. The cannons are stocked and ready. Most of the blades only need to be honed."
Rin nodded, inspecting his work briefly. "Don't ever let the armory sink into this state again, Nagisa. I'm adding its upkeep to your duties."
Nagisa glanced around with a low whistle. All of this, his domain? If nothing else, he owed Sei thanks for that. "Aye, captain."
"Carry on then. I want all hands armed and ready." He left Nagisa humming happily to himself, admiring his reflection in a polished blade as he honed the edge to perfection.
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Unbelievable. Rei set the spyglass aside for a moment, squinting into the distance with his naked eyes before lifting it again for another incredulous look into the distance. The Samezuka had tacked her sails against the wind and was making for the shallows of the island. Not too near, of course, her weight made her ride low in the water and the ever-present danger of sandbars would keep her from drawing too near. The intent was there, though. Sei had abandoned his pursuit.
"What do you think? A few leagues out of imperial waters and turning back already. He is not so resolved as I thought." Rin was pleased, a blade-thin smile hovering about his lips. Tonight he would likely join the crew in the mess for a drink. A victory celebration to remind them that once more they had triumphed against seemingly impossible odds. Toasts and good humor would abound, a little of the tension in the atmosphere would dissolve…
And Rei would make his quiet way to the deck as soon as he could slip out to be sure the enemy ship had not drawn near in the night. He debated keeping this from Rin, considered what his foolishness had nearly cost them once before and changed his mind.
"I don't trust this. He may have turned back, but it's not like Sei to cut a fugitive loose once he has his scent. He's a law-abiding man, but not so much that he would not consider transgressing it for a good cause."
"Perhaps his crew did not feel the same." Rin was listening. Rei could see the consideration in his gaze, the slight tic in his smile that said he had been thinking the same thing and hoping to find someone that disagreed.
"The navy deals harshly with deserters and mutineers." He thought back to his early days aboard the Samenoe: Nagisa's first 'target' strung up from a convenient line- mutineers were not welcome anywhere. The difference was, pirates couldn't be bothered to hunt down their crewman's families, if families they had.
"I deal harshly with mutineers, yet we teetered on the knife's edge last night."
"As you say, captain."
"It would be a damn foolish ruse, and they can't be putting in for supplies."
"Have you considered that the island locals may have been settlers? They might be willing to offer their assistance then."
"Mako says they were unauthorized, likely indulging in a bit of piracy themselves."
"Then they have a ship?"
"A small one, not meant for deep waters. We needn't fear their pursuit."
It was settled. There was no need for the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of his thoughts. Sei had only decided to turn back toward home; he would make his report and patrols would increase, but it would mean nothing to Rin and his crew as they would already be well out of bounds. It made sense, really. Yet every instinct gleaned from painstaking experience screamed at him that they hadn't seen the last of captain Mikoshiba. Even among the old-timers he had a reputation for being earnest. If he were more politically-minded, he might well have made a career for himself as an admiral.
A dragon was more likely to abandon its hoard than Sei abandon his pursuit. Which was why Rei continued to stand at his post long after Rin had tired of gloating at his side, even long enough to shrug away Nagisa's hand when he attempted to drag Rei to the mess for a celebratory toast. It would be many days yet before he was ready to concede they were well and clear.
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Nitori was surprised and more than a little put-out to find his precious infirmary was still occupied. Worse, Makoto had left the little savage free to roam. He stood at Nitori's cabinet, a blue glass clenched delicately between two fingers, examining its viscous content curiously. Just as well he had not made bold enough to open it or it would have taken days to air out.
"Makoto loosened the leash, I see." There were fingerprints on the glass doors of his cabinet, the sheets on the bed were thoroughly disarranged and doubtless reeked of saltwater. He thought there might be a scarlet dab of blood on the pillow.
Damnation. The whole room was tainted and he would have to spend his evening scrubbing it from top to bottom. He fixed a malevolent stare on Haruka, only now warily setting down the bottle and turning to face Nitori. Nothing was as he had left it! What had he found? What had he guessed?
"I was expecting him back." Haruka offered cautiously, eying him like a dog might his next meal. If he dared to attack he would find his prey was tough as old leather to chew, and far more inventive in retaliation than such a small mind could conceive of.
"This is my domain." Nitori shut the door at last, gliding across the room to throw open his pathetic excuse of a window. Not that the meager light was much help, but it gave him something to keep his hands from fidgeting.
Haruka glanced around pointedly, arching a brow and murmuring a dry "I gathered."
"What did you gather?"
Evidently the threat in his tone was plain; Haruka very slowly moved to put more space between them, careful not to turn his back.
"You are no kind of unschooled sawbones. You've been properly educated. Your bedsheets are neatly tucked, fitted as one would expect of a navy man. You've fallen far, though."
"One good turn deserves another, I suppose." Nitori circled about him warily, stripping the sheets from the bed to toss them to the floor. He would have to burn them, blood never washed clean. "I will tell you that your scheme did not work, but you knew that already."
Haru did not confirm or deny the statement with any telling gestures. More the pity.
"I will tell you that you came from the mainland, though no part that I know of. That I am not the only man aboard this ship unfortunate enough to have given years of my life to the imperial navy, nor yet the only man in this room."
Haruka's eyes narrowed, lips working as he ran his tongue along his teeth. A defensive gesture, one common to most predators. "Lastly, Nanase Haruka, I will tell you that if I know all this, there is no question but that my captain and his mate do too. I'm afraid you are not so cunning as you suppose."
Nitori smiled brightly, and he could almost see Haru muffle a full-bodied shudder of disgust and nerves at the expression. "And if my ears do not deceive me, I believe Makoto has come to tell you just that."
His timing could not have been more perfect. A firm rap at the door was all the confirmation he needed. Makoto had come for his prisoner, doubtless to indulge in his own manner of victory celebration. Nitori could almost have pitied the man, but there was a quality to Haru's expression, something determined and not at all afraid, that told him he didn't have the right.
He turned his back on Haruka, ignoring the insistent prickle of the hair on his neck, and stepped aside to allow Mako entry. But it was Haru that moved first, striding across the room and brushing past both of them before Nitori had a chance to do more than tense for trouble. Makoto tipped him a smile and a wink before he turned to follow, and Nitori found he could pity Haru after all.
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Rin was already chin-deep in a thoroughly extravagant bath when Mako slid through the door on the heels of his captive. With a week or less to restocking, it hardly mattered that he had made use of their supply, except that the gesture was so thoroughly unlike him Makoto knew it had to be a ploy. The sheer range of possibilities sent a delighted tremor racing through him; he licked his lips to hide a rather voracious smile.
The crew was belowdecks, celebrating with their grog and song, laughingly composing their own little ditties about the shortcomings of the foolish Samezuka crew. Makoto had his own thoughts on that matter, but they would easily keep until morning. Were Rin and he not owed their own manner of celebration? After all, their greatest threat would remain here with them throughout the evening and night, no further mischief to wreak.
He was about to say as much to Haru, except that when he turned the man's gaze was reserved entirely for the water sloshing playfully in the tub. He appeared delighted, blue eyes wide and inquisitive, mouth curving with the sort of anticipation Mako saved for particularly satisfying sex. It took no more than a second to confirm Rin's thoughts had wandered in precisely the same direction.
Rin propped his chin on the edge of the tub, arms dangling freely over the side. It was a small brass affair, more the pity- room enough for one. Two if one of them was riding the other's cock.
"Was he still waiting for you?"
"Exactly where I left him," Mako confirmed, shoving Haru roughly into the cabin and bolting the door behind him.
Haru caught himself before he fell to his knees, slanting a knowing glance first at Rin and then back to Mako. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife; men of the world as they were, each of them knew a silence like this only resolved itself one of two ways: a fight or a fuck. Mako wasn't sure which of the two he more craved, but Rin's preferences were plain. It was only fair, after all, Mako had taken his turn to dabble.
Rin stretched languidly, the skin of his back just breaking the surface of the water. "I didn't have him pegged for a cautious man."
"Captain of the ship and still frightened to address a prisoner directly? I didn't take you for a timid man."
Rin's eyes fixed on him, narrowed and dangerous. Mako sighed quietly; Rin had never been particularly adept at swallowing his own medicine. The shift from playfully indulgent to mercilessly demanding was visible in the very set of his shoulders. Of course, Haru wouldn't know that. He did not have the years of experience that Mako prided himself on.
"I'm done with the bath, Mako, our prisoner needs it more, I think."
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Wow, I am so sorry. I've been updating this on AO3 and completely forgetting to cross-post here. The good news is, that means a chapter dump today! Forgive me?
Anyone offended or not wishing to read a threesome should skip the next chapter. It's my first time writing it, so it can be a bit choppy in places. As always concrit is appreciated and applied to future chapters. :)