Eye SeeU!

"Ollie-Polly," Len sang. It was morning, his favourite time of the day. This was one of the cases where Oliver genuinely believed that Len wasn't human and instead he was some alien robot from outer-space which has been sent down to deliver goods across the seas. Yeah, that's likely.

It was another morning, like all others, the sun had begun its travels across the blue sky. Sometimes white puffy objects would stand still as obstacles, but not today. Nope, today was as clear and fresh as every day should be. A handful of seagulls made their daily rounds past them before dropping into the water, only to return with a beak-full of water and a small fish.

"It's Thursday today, which means deck cleaning!" Len's sing-song voice suddenly flicked back to his more commonly used one- with added strictness, "So get up and help me."

With a quick groan and stretch Oliver rolled sideways off the sofa that held various stains from mystery liquids, a ragged, crimson pillow fell off alongside him. It hit the floor with an airy thud.

"Up you get." Oliver looked up at Len's aquatic blue eyes that stood above his moving mouth. They looked just like the ocean, maybe that's because the colour spread. Maybe by looking at something for a long time you're eyes become that colour? Well, that doesn't do a great job at describing his own yellow eyes, since he was utterly terrified of looking at the sun after hearing tales of people who had their eyes burnt out after looking up at the fiery star. The way he always panicked when Len's sight accidently caught a hold of the sun, it must have been humorous to others.

He pushed himself away from the ground with his thin arms and kicked himself up with his bandaged legs. The sun hit his eyes in a violent manner as Len yanked the curtains apart. He wandered over to his tired friend and gave him a sarcastic pat on the shoulder for the effort.

Oliver's eyes glanced over to the analogue clock that sat conveniently on a brass hook which clutched onto the wooden door frame. 'Half past seven' it read, plus the additional seconds but Len had taught him not to count those. He'd told him that every second mattered, and counting them only wastes them away.

It also gives him a headache, but that's not important.

"Come along now, Gakupo told us not to be lazy," Len waltzed over to Oliver to take his pale hand and direct him to the deck. A noticeably salty smell hit him like a boulder, probably coming from the ocean, as the wooden door creaked open. Puddles made homes in the small cracks of the wooden planks where heavy boots and large crates had previously been.

"Alright, alright." He turned on his heel and went away to straighten out his clothes. Gakupo, being the fashion-fanatic he was wouldn't let the boys where whatever. No, they had to look proper, even if it was just for going out on deck. Because who knows what boats might go past and see them looking all scruffy.

Creak, creak.

"Ah, boys! You're up! Well, I welcome you both to this new morning; hopefully soon there should be visible land." It was Gakupo. The same Gakupo that took in Len and accepted Oliver. Oddly enough, his parents never came for him, nor was there any news. Oliver told them about where they were on that night but they never found out for sure. Every so often there was the thought of wonder, and maybe regret about leaving them behind.

"Oh, will that be the destination?" Len asked, cutting through Oliver's thoughts.

"Indeed it shall," he smiled in response before heading back in the direction he came to wake up the others.

Oliver bent over to pick up the bandage that once covered his scarred eye. It was damp and loose. He simply hit the air a couple of times with it and proceeded to tie it around his head. Needless to say, he didn't do a good job at it.

Len sighed and clicked his tongue in annoyance. The dressing Oliver was using was a second-hand one that had been brought out at last minute and they'd never had the chance to get a clean one for him.

"Completely open for infections" Gakupo had said when they finally found something to hide the scar under. It's not like they were afraid of people seeing a member of the crew with an injury, they were afraid of things happening with it. Other sailors had had to have their limbs cut off due to scurvy and other types of diseases they'd got while sailing and having a fraction of his head cut off was not something he wanted to experience.

"We really need to find you a new bandage for that," Len laughed silently while walking over to stand behind Oliver. He took the ends of the torn bandage and tightened it.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

The morning went by surprisingly quickly and before they knew it the midday sun had already begun lacing itself across the sky. Lunchtimes were always a hassle, but an interesting hassle to say the least.

"Oi! That last piece of fish was mine and you knew that!" one sailor shouted at another. It sounded like it had come from a large, gruff man.

"Not completely. You only stated that it belong to you after I had eaten it. You won't be getting it back, you know?" was the witty reply.

"Just shut the fuck up, Kiyoteru," shouted the sailor, "Just shut the fuck up!" He slammed his hands down on the table, stood up and leaned forward challengingly. His name was Big Al, or at least that's what they all called him. No one knew his real name, they weren't even sure if he knew it himself.

"You two," a sharp voice cut through the air like a sword. Both of their heads turned to the source, followed by everyone else's in the room. It was Gakupo. Dearest, most beloved Gakupo. "We'll have none of that behaviour on this boat, or anywhere else for that matter. You are gentlemen, act the part."

Both of the men turned back and grumbled a few incoherent words at each other before continuing their meal.

Outside the day was as golden as ever; blue ocean waves rippling around the boat; sunny kisses from the sky; circling birds above. The sky was bitter in taste, but warm all the same. Oliver was thankful for the warm weather as it wasn't something he'd had in England during the time when he lived there.

A perfect day for sailing and manual labour.

Underneath the deck was a large room with wooden walls and wooden floors. Across the wall were Japanese Kanji symbols held up with worn, thick string. The room layout was simple, a door to the far left and a large window to the far right. By the door rested a chair which Len had occupied. He'd sit there for hours on end reading. By the window were two other boys, one with green hair and the other with blonde.

"How do you even do that?" exclaimed the blonde boy, eyes widening in amazement.

The other boy laughed, "It's quite simple Oliver. You just need to be flexible or have a long tongue." He had pasty green hair and large front teeth. What he wore consisted of a white shirt with small green sleeves, a pastel green jacket that had been poorly washed, a tie that wouldn't stay up properly so it drooped down from the collar and dark green shorts. The spitting image of a rich boy taken to the poor perhaps? Either way, it certainly fitted his personality - light and playful.

"… But I don't think I have either!" he said in return.

"Ollie, face it. I don't think you're cut out for the same elbow-licking manoeuvres as Ryuto here," laughed Len.

Oliver pouted but quickly stood up straight again. He walked past Ryuto to the large window and rested his elbows on the edge. There were dried lumps of pure sea salt and dirt covering the edges of the glass like some kind of infection.

"I wonder what it will be like in Korea…" Oliver thought aloud. Hi gaze was stolen and passed form left to right by various sea-birds.

"Warm, hopefully," Ryuto giggled. "The weather's been lovely."

"You'd hope so, after last stop's incident," stated Len dryly. He shut the hard-back book without putting a place marker in, stood up and put the book back onto one of the many shelves that outlined the room.

Oliver thought back to the previous month. At their last stop they'd been in Canada. It was the northern part of Canada so it was extremely cold and snowy. One of the sailors carelessly got off the ship without any preparations for the weather and worked as he normally would. Again and again he would say he wasn't cold but as they were about to leave the port he came down with a fever. They'd had to stay in Canada for an extra week so he could get better!

More birds flew past the window.

"Do you know what we'll be doing in Korea?" asked Oliver. His voice became a little flat, but not out of boredom.

He heard Len hum for a moment before replying. "I can't quite recall if it was for picking up or delivering cargo."

"Hey, Ryuto, could you help me a moment?" one of the sailors called out from behind the door. He was holding a collection of boxes that didn't fit together quite right and they were about to fall.

"Ah, sure! Of course!" he yelled back in reply. Within the blink of an eye he was over to the door, opening it.

A moment after he was gone Len went back to his seat where a lukewarm cup of homemade coffee sat at the left, front-most leg. "I wonder…" he said, his voice sounding distant.

Oliver's eye flickered towards him. "Wonder what?"

"Nothing: just thinking aloud. Hey, Oliver, do you know how to read?" Len quickly changed the subject; it must be some sort of skill to do that because Oliver couldn't do it very discreetly.

"A little… not like those big books that you normally read." Oliver's right foot twiddled behind his left one as he swung in rhythm with the boat.

"Ah, I see," Len paused; about to say something else, but instead a large red mark on Oliver's left foot that ran up his ankle caught his attention. "Where's your bandage?"

"Oh, um…" Oliver looked down at his foot, twisting it in his vision, "I don't know."

A small, silent sigh escaped Len's lips and vanished in the air around him. "You probably lost it sometime during the night, should we go ask for another one?"

Oliver nodded, not wanting some kind of thing going into his leg and having it cut off.

"We're running low on bandages; however I think I may be able to locate a spare –maybe." One of the ships' crew, Leon, assured the two boys. "I can't say what it'll be covered in, but then again, I don't think you'd want to know." He chuckled to himself as he continued to root around in the small rusted, metal box. After a moment, he pulled out a grubby white bundle. It looked soft but worn.

"Again, how to manage to lose these things is beyond me," sighed Len.

Oliver looked up at the ceiling before giving a simple reply of, "Magic."

A chuckle escaped Leon's mouth for the second time as he unwound the ball of bandage into a clump strangling his fingers. "Stay young and imaginative Oliver."

"But if I stay young then I can't become a proper sailor!" he pouted, waving his arms around in the long blue sleeves. A few gusts of wind hit Len's face.

"But if you get too old you'll become like Ueki-loid," was all Len could say as he walked behind Oliver to hold his arms down and rest his chin on the top of his head. His voice was sincere, not letting past feelings come into conflict.

Oliver had never met Ueki-loid but he'd heard so many tales of what he was like. How he was such a father-figure towards Len and all the help he supplied to the ship mates. How he'd sing to the sick and dance with the well. He was a little odd- especially his name- but people were okay with admitting that because he was such a great person. A lot of people said he was a great signer in his own way- he didn't sing about breaking up and sex.

About 5 months before Oliver's arrival was when Ueki-loid made the transition between life and death. In a way, Oliver was glad that he didn't have to go through the task of getting over a death, he'd already done a bad enough job of that when his grandfather died. If Ueki-loid was such a great person then, chances were, he'd still be mourning him.

Len was strong, Oliver admired that in him. There were a lot of things in Len that Oliver admired: his brotherly ways, his sense of witty humour, his talent. It was nice to have an older brother, instead of being the only child that he once was.

"Five months, huh…" Leon rubbed his tongue on the top of his own mouth in thought. "Time travels…"

Oliver brought his arms up a little when Len took a stronger grip on his wrists and pulled them down to his shoulders. From there he just stood quietly holding Oliver, his chest to his back, waiting for Leon to finish pulling the bandages off the roll.

"Mm'lright so here's the bandage. Len, could you? I've got more things to attend to as we near the destination." Without waiting for an answer Leon briskly put down the cotton material and walked towards the door. "It's going to be a big day tomorrow, preparing for land, might as well get a large amount of it done today!"

Len released Oliver and walked towards the mouldy, wooden table. Patting the seat, Oliver took the hint and strolled to the bench. Len pushed him down to sit and knelt down in front of his wounded foot. The wood was moist, along with everything else in the room. It was on the lower decks so it wasn't the sunniest of places.

"Ah," Oliver yelped quietly as Len's fingers traced the burnt skin. How he'd got that scar wasn't something he was quite sure of, there were just faint burn marks and tears, possibly from teeth of sorts. The day before he was found with the injury was hazy in his mind, and quite frankly he was glad it was. Anything painful looking wasn't worth remembering.

Len hushed him before curling the cast around his ankle. He must have been a natural at this stuff because the way he covered Oliver's' foot was flawless. No lumps of material, no sharp turns, no trapped bits of dirt and not too tight but not too loose. Chances are Gakupo taught him it; he's an incredibly careful person. Surely this would be a natural skill to him.

Looking down, Oliver watched Len's hands travel up and down his foot a few times to check the bandage. Once he assured him that if was fine they both stood up again. The bottoms of Oliver's navy blue knee-length shorts had creased and become wet when he sat down.

They both left the room once everything and been packed away. Len told Oliver to sit down while he tidied as he didn't want anything happening to his foot too soon. The old rusted box was shut and placed on a shelf and the few glasses of day-old ale were picked up and handed to Oliver. Len grabbed a fancy-looking blue box- the one Gakupo asked him for a little earlier on in the day. As the two boys walked through the long hallways and past the dusty rooms they shared a few words of converse.

"Just go put them in the gallery," Len commanded, nudging his head in the direction of the room where coal-powered ovens lay alongside bubbling pots of water. There was a faint smell of overly-salted meat of some sort along with a harmony of many different herbs and spices. Kiyoteru had an eye for those sorts of things, making him the best chief they'd had.

"Um…" Oliver pondered, hoping to get the attention of his senior so he'd know where to put the cups.

"Hmm, oh! Oliver, where did you find those?" Kiyoteru pushed his glasses further up his nose as he spoke.

Dragging his foot to be in line with the other Oliver replied, "Downstairs in the ward."

In one swift movement Kiyoteru took them out of Oliver's hands and swirled them around for a moment or two. "They don't seem drinkable, do they?"

Oliver subconsciously bit his lower lips in slight fear. He wasn't scared of the older man; it's just that being alone near a man with gin of sorts wasn't a very good thing- so he'd been told. Last time he was alone with Big Al was certainly something he never wanted to remember. He hummed in agreement.

"Well, I suppose that's something else for the wash."

The gallery was then filled with a few other sailors so Oliver took that as an invitation out. The deck was soon collecting salt in the gaps despite how he and Len had cleaned ti only a few hours ago and a night mist began to haunt the clouds. His freshly-bandaged foot dampened as he went to the railings of the boat. They were cold and eroded, and incredibly bent out of shape.

This was such an old ship but it lasted, and will last, for so long. It was interesting in such a compelling way.

Oliver was quite the history fan. He loved hearing about how things happened to make what we have today. Sometimes if he was lucky enough Len would read out to him before he went to bed, he'd read out books on the English Civil War and both of the World Wars.

"Everyone needs something to be interested in," Gakupo would tell him, and he was right.

What was a person if they had no desires?

DERPDERPDERPDERP. This is… longer than I expected it would be. As for future updates: I promise it won't take around 3 months next time! Or at least I'll try to remember the promise. Lololol

I kind of don't want to acknowledge this chapter as my own work. I didn't like how I wrote it and I'm sure there are many mistakes. IF you find some pleasepleaseplease point them out for my so I can change them and it won't look so bad and it won't be horrible and and and and rainbow unicorns.

For those who don't recognize the name Ueki-loid he is the first in a series named, "Legend of Vocaloid." The "Legend of Vocaloid," line-up consist of Vocaloids based on deceased singers, however Ueki-loid is the only one currently in existence. He's based off the singer Ueki Hitoshi and the Vocaloid is a private, unreleased one. So yeah, that's a thing.

Uh… so yeah. Until next time? (Which will be this year at the latest. Here look, I'll start writing the next chapter now.)