A/N: Please don't kill me. I know it's been forever, but I promise I have not forgotten about this story! I've just been suuuuper busy with life and stuff, and college, and trying to please both family and friends at the same time. Nevertheless, even if things get hectic, I will finish this story no matter what (I've got it all planned out after all!) so please stick with me! Also, I apologize if you have to reread this over from Chapter 1 due to my incompetence. A lot goes on in this chapter, so you may have to anyways, but it'll all be worth it, I promise! I apologize for how rusty my writing has gotten, but here you are so read on my lovelies ;)

Standard Disclaimer applies


| [A Million Pieces of Eight] |

Chapter V: Ace of Spades

By Miasmic

"Hey!" Sakura shouted, peering over the bobbing heads of the dispersing crew as they filed off the Black Lagoon, green eyes locking on a familiar dark-haired man in its midst. He was easy to spot, if not for his height then for the way he carried himself— poised and upright. The crowd surrounding him was predictably foul— a typical piratey mix of salt, grog, and perspiration that she still not hardened to— prompting Sakura to hold her breath as she weaved through them to catch Sasuke's retreating figure.

"Let's look for this Key together, yeah?" Sakura offered with a smile, falling into step beside him.

"No," He deadpanned, not even sparing a glance in her direction. Sakura's step faltered, slightly taken aback by the brusqueness of his response.

"Why not?" She pressed. What was his problem? Maybe he walked so upright, not because of his ego, but because he actually had a wooden plank up his ass. Or maybe a whole mast, Sakura thought crossly. She was struggling to keep her exasperation under control, especially when it came to Sasuke.

"No."

"We wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for—"

"No."

Sakura stopped in her tracks, the morning sun illuminating her deadly scowl and bright green eyes as they trailed Sasuke— her stupid, egotistical, mean, antisocial Captain— while he walked ahead of her, down the dock and towards the bustle of townspeople ashore. The crew had anchored at the next port— as the pirates at Port Haven suggested— in search of the rumored Key. Sakura figured since she and Sasuke were starting to be on cordial terms that she would team up with him— at least, it seemed like a good idea at the time. That is until said "teammate" strangled it with his immaculate cotton smelling hands.

"Fine!" Sakura yelled after a moment, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at his back. She wouldn't let his overbearing ego crush her spirit. Had he forgotten that the only reason they were in this town, leagues closer to finding the next Key, was because of her? She had found out the rumored whereabouts of the next Key all on her own, and she sure as hell didn't need anyone's help finding out where it actually was. Sakura had merely extended an offer to help him, like the good soul she was, sharing the secrets of her eminent treasure hunting ability on one who lacked any. If he didn't want help from her, then good riddance.

Upon reaching the shore, Sakura turned on her heel to head South— the complete opposite direction Sasuke had ambled in— scurrying down the road and out of sight before Jun could notice her absence and inevitably throw a leash on her. The boardwalk lining the south harbor was mildly busy, fishermen and tradesmen exchanging goods while locals gathered to go about their daily-deeds. The burlap coin purse that Sasuke had gifted Sakura bumped methodically against her hip as she strolled along the coast, secured loosely to the belt she wore around her waist.

A belt, she noted, that did not belong to her nor fit properly, much like the rest of her clothing. Sakura moved to adjust the lopsided waistband, releasing an exasperated sigh when she realized the attempt was futile. It simply fell back down. With this, Sakura resolved that her first order of business that morning was to find a place to purchase a suitable outfit.

She walked along the pier, scanning the shops for a tailor or draper. Majority of buildings in the town were constructed with rusticated masonry topped with mansard ceramic rooftops. Ranging from two to three stories, their facades adorned with bifora windows flanked by ornate pilasters and potted flora along the exterior windowsills. Every so often there were windows furnished with iron wrought guards or a shallow balcony, morning glory and ivy weaving around the building corners, around windows, and above the propped canopies of several shops, shading working vendors. The ground slightly drooped in the center of the seafront, so worn by years of use that the uncut stone was barely visible beneath a layer of dirt. The port itself seemed to be heavily manmade, elevated five feet above the rocky shoreline, the street extending evenly far beyond Sakura's sight. It was beautiful, though she felt slightly disappointed at the lack of sand and natural flora.

As she continued, Sakura busied herself— or rather become distracted by— the bustle of the market. For Sakura, people watching was less of a hobby and more of a habit. Although she felt foolishly creepy at times, she enjoyed the opportunity to study the way people interacted with one another, at times imagining what kind of life they were living and what kind of struggles they were going through. It was a coping mechanism of sorts, likely developing as a result of her overprotective mother, who more often than not desired to keep Sakura indoors and out of sight. Port Rotunda was home to a multitude of interesting people, and although many incarnated traditional archetypes of middle-class colonialist society, it was interesting seeing how each individual interacted with one another— they were somewhat refreshing to watch but mostly entertaining.

However, what Sakura was able to see in this town was almost entirely different from Port Rotunda. People objectively carried out the same routine of tasks; fishing, trading, selling, fixing, sewing, working— though the people here were unique in their own way, much like how the people of Port Rotunda were unique. Despite her limited experience abroad, she could tell that the individuals from one port to the next, one country to the next, and one continent to the next, possessed a specialness unrivaled by the other. If there was one thing she hoped to gain from this adventure as a pirate, it would be a sense of wanderlust.

Sakura's gaze came to a candy stand no more than a few meters away, where a father— a sailor, evident by his garb— purchased some taffy for his excited infant daughter. Her tiny hands reached for the candy, cheeks rosy with glee. The sailor smiled, handing her the treat before promptly lifting her onto his shoulders and continuing down the path. It was a cute scene, albeit short. Sakura watched them leave— the little girl visible above the crowd— the smile adorning her lips slowly flatting into a sad line.

Why couldn't her father have settled with becoming a mere sailor? What made being a pirate so appealing that he had to leave his family, robbing his daughter of an experience such as this?

Sakura shook her head lightly. She had a mission she needed to focus on; to buy new clothes and find the next Key— though not necessarily in that order.

In an effort to eradicate any lingering thoughts of her father, Sakura allowed herself to indulge in a shopping spree of sorts— there was more than enough gold to go around, thanks to sugar-daddy Uchiha— first purchasing a large bag which she slung across her body, and then filling it with other miscellaneous items she had picked up on the way; toothpicks for Jun, a candle for Naruto, and an ornate drinking bottle for Crow. Still, she had yet to spot a tailor.

Sakura halted at the corner of an intersection, a light breeze causing a suspended wooden sign nearby to squeak lightly, drawing her attention. It hung above the entrance to a shop on the corner. Etched in golden calligraphy, elegantly embossed into the surface were the words Library & Printing. Adjacent to it and separated by a narrow, dark alley, was a Jeweler. Beyond that were townhouses.

Still no tailor.

With a defeated sigh, figuring she might as well try to do some research on the Keys— or more shopping— Sakura made a beeline for the bookshop. Okay, she admitted, books were her weakness. A few minutes inside couldn't hurt.

Too caught up in her own excitement, Sakura failed to notice a dark-haired man suddenly close in behind her, almost out of nowhere, and roughly shove her mere seconds before reaching the entrance of the shop. A pain radiated from her shoulder, the push spinning her on her heels and causing the satchel across her body to swing violently.

"Hey!" She shouted, steadying herself to face her assailant, "What's your prob—"

Sakura was not expecting to be met with a particularly nice man— a shove with that amount of force was no accident— but even more than that she had not expected to be met with a coward. A coward who, whoever he was, had the audacity to run away, and without so much as a peek in her direction. Sakura hadn't even gotten the chance to see his craven face before he disappeared, his black shirt and plain bottoms becoming mere pigments in the sea of people.

Suddenly Sakura was struck by an indiscriminate thought.

Do I know him?

Although she only got a glimpse of his backside, she was unable to shake the feeling that she had seen him before. Perhaps it was his square frame, large shoulders, and short dark hair— all traits she had likened to pirates— though she knew that would be absurd, especially considering how commonly he was dressed. He could be anyone.

Sakura proceeded into the store and was hit with an instantaneous euphoria that made her completely forget about the interaction from minutes ago. The aroma of fresh parchment wafted pleasantly around her nose, infectious, resurfacing memories of pastime anecdotes and childhood fairytales. An intense craving to read overwhelmed her; she was convinced that the scent of books in a bookstore was more irresistible than the scent of pastries in a pastry shop. It felt like ages since she had gotten her hands on a good read. The shop was tiny and quiet, save for the muffled hum coming from the outside world. The two windows that had flanked the shop entrance naturally lit the interior, exposing several bookcases lined with leather bound novels, encyclopedias, and scrolls, with a few of decorative pieces finding comfort between them. Below each window was a long wooden table in which several books layout for display, coated with a thin layer of dust. Contained in the back of the room were several more bookshelves and a door, although access to either was cut off by a long, thick counter. There was no clerk in sight.

Sakura moved to the table beneath the left window where an ornate iron key, weathered and misshapen, hung decoratively from the ceiling. Directly below it was a tiny black journal.

Seafarer Folklore: The Curse of Sea, Sakura read along the spine.

Carefully dusting the cover with her hands, she flipped through the contents.

Davy Jones… monsters… Kraken… green… pirates… Calypso… mermaids… sea serpent… Many of these she had heard of before; mostly myths and tales of old seamen, she presumed. She flipped the page again.

Black Magic.

The title caught her interest, eyes mechanically locating a single passage, bracketed in ink by the previous owner.

A user of black magic is said to have risen from the depths of Davy Jones' Locker, possessed by the devils of the sea and Davy Jones himself, and given the ability to call upon the powers of darkness, bringing doom and desolation unto his enemies. He, a fugitive of death and a master of trickery, prowls the sea in search of able-bodied seamen, whom he intends to send to Davy Jones' Locker in his place, in an effort to attain absolute immortality.

Nestled in between the open pages was a playing card. Sakura turned it over.

Ace of Spades. On it, a single line:

Beware the gambling demon, the Ace of Spades.

"Ahem."

Sakura jolted, slamming the book shut and turning to the back of the room where an old man now stood, smiling behind the once empty counter.

"Hello! How may I help you today, lad?" He offered.

"Ahoy," Sakura breathed, instantly cursing herself. Ahoy? Really, Sakura? She groaned inwardly, blaming her impulsivity on her sudden high blood pressure— but mostly she blamed Crow. Returning a half-smile to the amused clerk— amused?—Sakura made a conscious effort pick her words carefully.

"I mean, hello," She corrected coolly, "Just taking a gander at your collection here. It's quite impressive!"

"Why, thank you!" The clerk gushed, and for a moment Sakura thought he may actually be just as enthused about books as she was, "Anything I can interest you in?"

"Actually," She began, fingers gripping the smooth leather of the black book, "Do you happen to have anything on black magic? Or is this it?"

Sakura moved toward the counter, placing the book firmly in front of the clerk. It was from this proximity that she noticed he did not look as old as she had originally thought. He had brown hair that was beginning to gray, and very few age lines on his face— he looked middle-aged at most. The stubble and roughness of his skin seemed atypical for a man of his trade, his hands thick and lined with scars. She couldn't imagine how he had gotten them, definitely not from bookbinding.

The man looked at her curiously, undoubtedly wondering why a girl like her, or "boy" like her, would want to learn about black magic. His eyes, an emerald, almost minty green, made her squirm inside for some strange reason. They were bright and lively, again betraying his age.

"Hmm, I don't believe so," He said, "That's the only one."

"How much for this one, then?" She inquired.

"100 doubloons."

Her heart sunk at the number. Although she had enough money to make the purchase, sparing that amount would leave her with barely anything left, something that could not be done if she had any desire to visit the tailor. No matter how badly she wanted the book, she couldn't stand living in these rags any longer.

"Oh," She muttered, fighting a disappointed frown, "Perhaps next time, then. Thank you, anyways!"

It was with the sad realization that there probably wouldn't be a "next time" that Sakura began to turn away, heading for the exit. They wouldn't be staying in town for much longer, and who knew if they would ever come back. Not that she would have the money by that point, anyways— she had already expressed to Sasuke and the crew that she had no desire for treasure. If she truly wanted something from here on out, her only other option would be to pillage, and despite being a newly inducted pirate, that didn't quite settle well with her just yet…

No, she couldn't risk stealing, if she got caught Sasuke would—

"Wait a minute lad," The man said suddenly, earning a confused glance from Sakura. She turned around, not having gone too far, "I'm willing to barter."

"… Barter?" She echoed, not entirely sure where this was going. She didn't have much to trade.

"Yes. This," He continued, placing a hand flatly on the abandoned book, green eyes piercing her own, "For that."

The clerk then pointed a loose finger at her chest, where, at the base of her collarbone lay her father's golden ring, its weight so familiar that she had forgotten all about it. Now forced to acknowledge its presence, it felt heavy, she felt heavy, even heavier than she had felt when the Captain unceremoniously and forcibly removed it from its place not too long ago. However, unlike last time, she was given a choice whether or not to give it up, and at the cost of never getting it back again.

Sakura almost laughed at the absurdity of the idea.

This man clearly didn't know how precious that simple piece of jewelry was to her.

"I appreciate the offer, truthfully I do, but there's no way I can give this up," She smiled, rolling the golden band between her fingertips. The man looked momentarily distraught, eyebrows knitted as his gaze darted between the object in question and her face. He was tense, focused, contemplating, almost as if he were devising a plan to snatch it from her while she wasn't looking. Paranoid, Sakura shielded it from his view in a clenched fist, absently wondering why he had wanted the artifact in the first place; there was nothing special about it and it possessed barely enough gold to be worth much, let alone 100 doubloons.

So what gives?

"Suit yourself," he said, at last, sighing in defeat, lines of genuine disappointment marring his face. A heavy thump resounded from the room behind him, though he pointedly ignored it, keeping his attention on Sakura, "I'll be looking forward to seeing you again. However, before you go, I must say, Seafarer Folklore is a rare find, I can't guarantee it'll still be a part of the collection the 'next time' we meet."

Sakura smiled politely, thanking him for his service before releasing the fist around her ring and moseying toward the door.

"Also," the clerk added, Sakura's fingers to freezing inches before the knob, the metal glistening back at her tauntingly, "if you are ever interested in cartography, I have a few special volumes in the back. But until 'next time', right?"

It was the way the clerk had phrased his last words that gave Sakura pause. The weight he put on them, his emphasis on a certain few— again, cartography, special, 'next time'— and the short, yet conspicuous breaks between them troubled her. She couldn't discern whether he was mocking the apparent fakeness of her promise to return for a "next time", or if he was being purposefully enigmatic, a second meaning behind his already vague farewell. Perhaps he had meant it both ways.

Had it not been for a commotion emerging from streets beyond the confining walls of the shop, Sakura might have been trapped there contemplating his words for an eternity. No matter what was going on outside, Sakura was grateful for the release, and with one final farewell to the strange clerk, she promptly stepped into reality.

Squinting against the sudden brightness of the inhospitable sun, Sakura keenly assessed the hubbub. Four guards were gathered just meters from where she stood, directly in front of the Jewelers. They each wore an identical uniform; a requirement of the state which consisting of buckled shoes with white stockings and knee breeches, lace-trimmed shirts with neck stocks, and blue petticoats embroidered with gold, finished with coat tails and matching tricorn hats. Like genteel dolls they were pristine and composed and were it not for the muskets pressed against their shoulders, Sakura would have thought them too posh for combat.

A man, presumably the Jeweler, stood before the guards, hysterically spouting unintelligible words at them, face so pink Sakura thought he may faint any second.

"Thief!" Someone called from behind, and she spun around, head darting in every direction to look for the accused person. Was she about to witness a robbery?

"There he is! In the red bandana!" Said another.

Red bandana?

"Catch the bloody pirate!"

It took Sakura a minute to realize the situation she had unintentionally brought upon herself, and suddenly she wished she were back inside the library, still marveling over the clerk's words. Eyes of all colors, ages, shapes, and sizes, locked onto to her head, accusing fingers pointing at the cursed red fabric which had ironically concealed something more conspicuous and colorful than a mere bandana.

Hearing the rapid shuffle of the guards' feet in her direction, Sakura didn't need to think twice before she bolted down the pier.

Sasuke is going to kill me.


Sasuke Uchiha was many things. A man of intellect, stature, poise. A man renowned for his arsenal of talents and devilish good looks. A self-made man. A leader. All of which had gotten him far in his privateering profession.

Then, like the flipside of a shilling, there were things that Sasuke Uchiha was not. While some of those may be more or less evident than others, even the daftest person could tell that, if there was one thing he absolutely was not, it was a team player. Sure, he worked well with his crew and was able to cooperate with them during battle with ease— he was their Captain after all. But that was where the line was drawn. In every other aspect of his life, he preferred to work alone. It was his way of validating and measuring his own abilities— how could he call himself a self-made man, taking full pride in his accomplishments, if they weren't completely his own, to begin with?

That being said, when Sakura, the annoying stowaway girl whom he barely knew, wanted to shack it up with him to find the next Key— as teammates— he felt no remorse shooting her down. Half the time he didn't even let Naruto do anything like that, and she was no exception.

Sasuke scowled at her naivety. He had given her shillings not only to ensure that she would stay out of trouble— sensing her lack of experience in stealth and thievery— but also to keep her out of his hair. She may have won over the hearts of most of his mates, but he would not let her do the same to him.

She was talkative, bubbly, and dependent, and he was… not.

Admittedly she could be amusing at times and an easy target to poke fun at, much like a jester.

But that was all she was: a simple jester, nothing more nothing less.

With that concluding thought, Sasuke pushed on to more important matters; finding the next Key.

He was strolling along the North end of town, obsidian eyes keen and calculating as they perused his surroundings. Normally, once docked in a new port, he would head straight to the town tavern to gather information. It was the hub of political chinwag and buccaneer gossip, for both landlubber and seafarer, and was undoubtedly the center of the social scene. Sasuke was never much of a drinker, and often found his presence in such a setting to be drear and forced— if he wasn't a pirate, he would have avoided it at all costs. Though, despite his frequent visits, it never ceased to amaze him how bloody attached some of these scoundrels were to their drink— as if life itself was dependent upon lowered inhibitions, increased violence, and short-lived drunken merriment. Nevertheless, he decided to skip the tavern that afternoon to explore the town. After all, Sakura had learned about the whereabouts of the next Key from some regular old blokes along the dock, perhaps he should search the rest town rather than just the marketplace.

As he continued to travel down the cobbled road, turning Northeastward, the rusticated buildings characteristic of the town's center gave way to bleaker, wooden houses.

In all honesty, Sasuke hadn't a clue where to begin his search. What he knew about these Keys was that there were many, many ways to attain them. The Million Pieces of Eight has been known to exist for almost 20 years— a legacy of the legendary Yellow Flash. No one knew whether he hid several copies of the Keys across the land himself, or if following his death one of his comrades took up the responsibility— but they existed, and by this point, many had already been already uncovered and reburied or traded for profit. This was because, over those past 20 years, no pirate has ever been able to successfully attain all 4 of the correct pieces, and so many gave up their search, resolving to either trade them in the black market or bury them in order to thwart the advances of others. Sasuke had a feeling that, in this town, it was the latter.

Sasuke turned another corner of the main road, slowing his pace at the sight of four guards clad in white and blue dress and pompous cocked hats. They normally traveled in platoons of four-to-five, stiffly holding their muskets against their shoulders as they patrolled the streets for trouble. Although Sasuke knew at first glance he was no cause for alarm, he was aware of the bullying tendencies of these soldiers, pirate or not, and therefore decided to turn another corner to meander down a less-watched road. Ducking under clotheslines and maneuvering his way around backyards and chicken coops fenced off by tall wooden fences, he stumbled upon an alleyway between two buildings of what he might consider a semi-rural area of the town. The alleyway, narrower and darker than most, felt humid and suffocating, the air smelling of garbage, homelessness, and dried dirt. At the end of the hidden backstreet was another building— seemingly a dead end in the eyes of any normal observer. However, even at a far distance, Sasuke could see that the path continued left, down an even narrower passage. He followed the path, which was suspiciously long, pushing forward until he eventually reached a dead end.

Staring at what was before him, Sasuke gave a dejected sigh, running a hand through his hair. The alley had ended abruptly with the back wall of a building, the bottom of which bore an arched entrance to a sewage line, no more than a few feet high and guarded by iron bars. That was it? And here he thought he might've been on to something. He turned his back, ready to depart and somewhat peeved at the wasted time when he noticed something.

Not a single sound came from the entrance. No sound of water flow or waste, not even the smell of it. Just complete silence. Sasuke descended on one knee, placing an ear next to the cold metals bars.

Nothing.

In a single swift movement, Sasuke kicked the entrance, the bars giving way easily, almost as if they had never been secured in the first place. At that moment he knew, Key or no Key, he had to find out what was down there. It simply wasn't in his nature to let things like these go unchecked. And so, with a level of self-assurance only an Uchiha could exhibit, Sasuke lowered himself into the cavern, landing somewhat ungracefully on the sewage floor. The first thing he noticed through the pitch dark abyss was the absence of any moisture whatsoever. The ground, uneven and dry, was messily carved out, evidently made by an individual lacking any knowledge of city planning or underground plumbing.

This only fueled Sasuke's curiosity.

The light that seeped through the cavern entrance faintly lit the stone wall behind him, which bore a sconce and an unlit torch. Sasuke was fortunate enough to be prepared for such situations, retrieving a tiny bundle of flint from his vest pocket and using it to ignite the lone torch, just barely wet with oil. He surmised it had 20-25 or so minutes left in its life, promptly removing it from the sconce before trekking down the long, ominous corridor.

The tunnel was eerily quiet, save for the soft tap of Sasuke's footsteps reverberating painstakingly off the walls. He was beginning to think he was the only living thing there. There were no creatures in sight—no rats, no mice, no rodents, no bugs. That was perhaps the strangest thing yet, and despite usually having an innately strong sense of security, it sent a shiver down his spine. He instinctively placed his free hand on the hilt of his cutlass.

After 10 minutes of agonizing solitude, Sasuke reached a junction in the road, halfheartedly cursing his arrogance. He had anticipated that he might come across this, but he had been overly confident, choosing to move onward anyways, despite an unreliable light source. Now he was pressed for time while making a decision that could very well mean the difference between seeing the light of day again, being stuck down there for hours, or at worst, death. He swung the torch in front of him to illuminate the intersection, slightly eased to see another torch-bearing sconce adorning an adjacent wall. He transferred the flame, and then quickly traded it for the one in his hand, hoping that it would buy him more time.

Left, right, or straight. He thought, the sound of a tolling bell in the back of his head. It was so quiet it seemed he was hearing things…

Each path was equally obscure and menacing; there was no way to tell which was the right one to take.

For no reason other than to save time, Sasuke chose to go straight, embarking on yet another hike in deafening silence. He wondered what in the hell he was doing. He was underground in a questionably made cave, in almost pitch darkness, approaching an unknown destination with who-knows-what-or-who to greet him. There were no signs of life besides himself. Still, Sasuke pressed on. He didn't know what was driving him to do so— besides perhaps a bit of ego— or why he wasn't as scared as he knew he should be. There wasn't much time left in the torch, and who knew how much longer he had to go. If his light source extinguished before he reached the end, it could prove troublesome.

It was another 6 minutes before the next fork in the road was reached, this time branching off into two directions, left and right. Sasuke ignited the sconce opposite him, pausing for a minute to think. He didn't know how much longer he had to go and was faced with the same dilemma as before— in need of time to make a decision, but having none. He could have already made a wrong turn for all he knew, subsequently dooming himself. And even if he had made the right turn, he may still meet the same fate. There was no telling.

Suddenly Sasuke felt a breeze, a minuscule one that only lasted a second, brush his backside and make its way down the left corridor. An exit, it seemed, was to his left.

But he wasn't trying to find a way out.

Sasuke turned right, though as soon as he did, he felt his muscles become inexplicably weaker, and gradually more so with each step as if the energy was being sucked from him. What was this feeling? It was foreign to him, not at all like a normal feeling of exhaustion, which could be overcome with rest. No, this feeling permeated from his bones, resonating into the rest of his body, into his gut. He felt… old, somehow, like his cells had suddenly stopped functioning. Aware of the aching feeling with each step, he kept moving, and in a matter of minutes met with a dead end, an empty sconce on the stone wall. Beneath it was a tiny chest.

Jackpot, he thought with a smirk, though his delight subsided quickly. The torch was just about done.

Sasuke placed the dimming light into the empty sconce, hastily kneeling alongside the wooden chest and jostling the hood.

Locked. Shit.

The torch flickered; only minutes left.

Come on come on, Sasuke thought, inserting two pins into the keyhole. Years ago, before he was a Captain, a pirate even, Sasuke had made a hobby of picking locks— he and Naruto had even begun a "business" (of sorts) around it. Though that was so long ago he barely remembered how, and now was not the time to test his lock-picking skills.

Another flicker; not much time.

Sasuke twisted and shook the pins, taking a deep breath. Was he shaking?

Flicker.

Hurry up God dammit.

Click.

It was the most satisfying, relieving sound Sasuke had heard in a while, as if the fuse on a canon had just been extinguished seconds before reaching the touchhole, preventing a catastrophic explosion. The joy was short-lived, however, another flicker of the torch serving as a grim reminder that the fuse was still burning. Sasuke lifted the lid of the chest with such urgency that it smacked against the wall, nearly breaking. Eyes, calculating and anxious, perused the contents of the treasure.

What lay within was the last thing Sasuke expected to find…

Nestled in a corner of the chest was a white, two-headed snake, coiled and lifeless.

He was furious.

This… it was his doing. That wretched, conniving, black magic wielding devil. The one he had mistakenly and stupidly gotten himself involved with years ago. Why was he here? To remind him of the debts he owed? To, dare-he-say, scare him?

The two-headed snake stirred, though Sasuke was unfazed. Black magic could do many things, including reanimating the dead. Before the amphisbaena could revive itself completely, Sasuke gripped his cutlass and sliced it down the middle, blood oozing from the wounds of the two writhing halves, black as ink in the dimming light.

Things were not looking good. Time was of the essence. They needed to find the next Keys, fast.

At that moment, Sasuke was consumed by complete, utter darkness.


A/N: Oh god, that took me forever to write! A lot goes on in this chapter, foreshadow and whatnot, so let me know if you are confused and I will try to help without giving any spoilers (though most of the confusion gets cleared up later, so sit tight!)

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry about any spelling/grammar mistakes, I'm sure this is riddled with them. Also sorry about the shitty ending and poor writing for Sasuke's part, I was originally going to continue on to a better cliff hanger, but I was getting so tired writing since I haven't slept in forever.

ALSO BEFORE I FORGET THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BREAKING 50 REVIEWS! LIKE WHAAAT. I know that may not be a big deal to some, but to me it is! Love you guys so much and keep em coming! :)

Love,

Mia