A/N Weekly updates from now on! Look forward to chapters every Thurs/Fri. Been super busy this week, so unfortunately I haven't had time to do much of anything except schoolwork, homework, test prep... Thank you for all the reviews, favs and follows so far - it's incredibly heartening to have an indication that people are reading and enjoying the story. It motivates me to write! :D
SaKkim98 Thank you!
Epicest of the Epic AHahaha I find it quite amusing that the guidelines of this site are so widely abused :p Though some fandoms seemed to have gotten 'safer' since the purge several years ago. Not this one, apparently. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Guest well, here you go.
Firenight
Chapter 4
He seemed to detect some challenge in her eyes, because his gaze didn't waver. Misa, out of obstinacy or plain foolishness, refused to shift her own gaze. Before their moment of stillness could transfer into discomfort for the rest of the crew, the Captain let out a quiet snort.
"Carry on," he said and turned about his heel, walking briskly away.
Someone let out a fluted whistle.
A diminutive boy with pale skin and dark hair leaned forward. "Where'd you learn that one?"
"Just... out there." The whistler, a tall youth with shaggy black hair framing a sharp jawed face answered with a vague gesture of his arm. He coloured. "It's okay that I do it on the ship, you know," he mumbled.
The knowing laughs of the other crew caused him to retreat further. Soon he was tugging his hood down over his face until the only features jutting out from its shadow was the peak of his high nose and the thick frosted rim of his glasses.
The smaller boy beside him patted him gently on the back and gave a small smile. He looked about the laughing crew, blinking. "What?" he asked, innocence embodied.
"Oh, oh nothing. Little Kanou has been out exploring. That encounter with miss red haired and bossy must have sparked something, eh?"
"Kuuga!"
A blonde haired man with drowsy eyes let them flutter close briefly as he raised his hands in a universal sign of utter ignorance. "I'm sure he'll have lots to tell you, Yukimura." He opened one ruby eye for emphasis.
"KUUGA!" chorused both Yukimura and Kanou.
Yukimura never did seem to recover his composure after that, occasionally darting looks at Kanou that followed upon notice with a searing blush and disproportionate apologies. Kanou seemed simply bewildered.
Aoi leaned over and whispered in Misa's ear. "Not your most typical introduction, but anything less would be misleading."
Misa nodded. She watched Kuuga neck Yukimura with a faint smile on her lips. There was a chemistry to the crew... it surprised her. She knew what she had been expecting. A dictatorship almost. The absent captain at its head, mannequin-like followers with no spirit, no humanity to them. She watched another boy - red haired - prance up to them and whisper something that made all four explode into spasms of laughter. The red haired one appeared to be chortling just for the hell of it.
"Oi! Haul your lazy asses over here, we're casting off! The portmaster's going to fine us if we dawdle any longer, and you all know who's payin'." A tanned man was waving at them from the far end of the deck.
"Portmaster, what portmaster?" Kuuga grumbled. He stalked over to the edge of the ship and peered over the side. A squat man with a belly as smooth and pertly round as an orange was waving vigorously at them with a small slip of paper clutched in a tight palm.
Kuuga frowned. "Fucking portmaster," he concluded, and turned around. "Man the sails crew, haul in the rigging. We've got to pull her away from here before our friend below decides to stalk us over the entire bloody ocean."
"Aye, boatswain." Yukimura piped up, the rigors of habit briefly overriding his animosity.
"Don't call me that!" Kuuga shouted. "What am I, Shakespearian?"
His voice was drowned out by the sound of the ship coming to life. People were swarming over the deck, amounts seemingly multiplied three fold by the pace and efficiency at which they moved. The deck groaned, and slid underfoot.
Aoi was tugging at her hand.
"They're in charge of the cast off, we need to plan the course. Come on."
Misa nodded, and tightened her grip. They weaved their way through the bustle of people and equipment. A raised area had been constructed on the far end. Several doors inlaid with iron designs of vines and flowers served as portals. Aoi led her over to the far right, picking up his skirts in his bid for speed. He rattled the knob several times before it gave with a click and a tremor.
Inside was a room, the already small area cramped by the furniture and ornaments stuffed into every recess. On the far wall was a quaint alcove set with a round window. A stream of light passed through the clear glass, filling the room with natural light and illuminating the dust particles like fireflies. The walls adjacent were covered floor to ceiling with maps. Some Misa recognised. Still others she could not place, despite devouring Satsuki's books, which were as close to dogma as you could get in the unscientific business of charting. Drawn in dashed lines were currents – red for seasonal, blue for stationary. Notes and jottings were tacked on beside important routes. They meandered across the ocean, illustrating paths that seemingly went in spirals around empty patches of water.
Aoi made his way to the desk, an imposing oak structure that was spilling over with odds and ends. "You're welcome to all of this," he said, brushing the skirts under him as he sat. "It's a bit of a mess – but it's an organised mess. You'll learn."
Misa picked up a volume. A ship log. Dates, courses taken, readings from instruments filled the pages in neat spidery writing. She read through a few entries before closing it carefully and sliding it back on the shelf.
Aoi was tapping his chin with the end of a glass pen. He glanced at Misa. "The ship's stabilized. Once we pull out of the port, it'll be our job to govern where the ship goes, what currents it'll follow, which winds the sails will catch..." he grinned, eyes alight. "Well, first thing for new navs is notetaking. Capt'n's going to come any moment to tell us the course. I want you to record him verbatim."
Misa nodded There was pen and parchment on a low table beside her leg. It was blank, and seemed set there for the purpose. She checked the pen and tested the flow of ink. Satisfied, she set it down.
As if on cue, the door opened and the Captain strode in. Strands of his blond hair caught the light. His pupils had shrunk from the brightness, highlighting the circle of pale jade of his iris.
Their eyes met for in a passing glance before Misa quickly ducked her head and the Captain ignored her in favour of his Master of Maps. "Aoi." He loitered over to the head table and leaned one hip against it. "Where do you think we should go today?"
Aoi shrugged. "I'd suggest the Serpent Isles. Apparently a drunk fisherman saw a mermaid around the rocks half a year ago. Or we could beach the ship in Cait Winthe, and take long boats up the Sinderling to the Northern Kingdoms. They're having a 'sneuw' festival, something worth seeing, I think, considering how warm the season is."
The Captain snorted. "We sailed pass the Isles two weeks ago. What a tiny, miserable place. Anyone forced to live there would have gone nuts before taking proper stock of their senses. Mermaid? More like a sea otter. 'Sneuw' is 'snow', I am not in the mood to associate with highly educated people who can't get their own language, or weather, right." He paused, sunk in a moody silence.
Aoi shifted in his seat, concern flashing over his eyes before they became unreadable black pools again.
Misa watched, pen poised. She'd recorded the tirade by the letter, even as her mind did not register belief in what her ear was hearing.
"The Harvest Festival?" Aoi suggested. He crossed his legs, the skirt falling over them in a flattering pattern. Misa remembered the famed painted women of the festival with their masks of makeup and loose multi-layered skirts and thought she could detect Aoi's suppressed enthusiasm.
"Which one?" the Captain asked.
"Well, there is only one. We've been to all the rest. The Sowing festival was last Summer-"
The captain interrupted with an exaggerated 'hm' before burying the coffin on the idea. "No, somewhere else. It's not been so long-"
Quietly Aoi muttered 'five years'. Misa caught the faint words and hesitated before committing it to paper.
"-there are places we haven't been." He strode over to the map in one long stride and pressed the crescent of a fingernail to a spot on the map. "Here for instance, looks like fun."
Aoi shot Misa a meaningful look and mouthed her the latitude and longitude. Misa scribbled it quickly down before she lost the thread of the conversation.
"A small, isolated, unexplored rock will – I am sure – offer ceaseless amount of entertainment to the most jaded individual." He laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. They remained cold unperturbed pools of deep green. "It's settled then."
Misa finished the sentence and stared. Really? Were they really going to sail to an uninhabited rock in the middle of the ocean? She looked up at the Captain, tall and assured as he discussed the logistics of the journey with a calm confidence.
Supplies, dates, plans. He took it seriously, charting a course to the small rock with the same diligence and sharpness one would expect from a military commander. Aoi dutifully humoured the Captain, dredging up his knowledge at such a far gone location to a good approximation of the dangers they may face. Since the place was so badly documented, Aoi could only assume that was either completely safe (where if would not be worth documenting) or un-passably treacherous (where the poor souls had died for their noble business of documenting).
Better safe than sorry. Misa thought Aoi probably lived by that maxim, as he pulled out all the stops, planning for the worst case scenario. The Captain followed, offering snide remarks when the conversation strayed into the ridiculous, gently steering it back into the realm of the reasonable.
By the time they were done, Misa's hands were shaking. She finished the last 's' with a wobbly stroke that thankfully got lost in the curved body of the letter. Blowing out a breath, she leaned back in the chair. I hope this doesn't happen too often, she thought, wincing at the twinge in her wrist.
When she opened her eyes, she found the Captain staring at her. His green eyes narrowed, cat like.
"Do you have an opinion, dear navigator?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.
Misa blinked. What? Opinion? She looked at Aoi, who was looking as puzzled as she felt. Helpful...
Wary, she opted for, "I stand by yours... sir."
The Captain burst out laughing. "Cautious one, isn't he, Aoi? I forget how entertaining new blood is. Well, seems like you and I agree on a great many things, navigator." He grinned, the glint of teeth casting it in a veiled threat. "Though I wonder... how much do we agree on?"
"I think you've already answered that yourself, sir."
The Captain sighed. "How vague. Roundabout. As much as enjoy being a philosopher and spend evening debating over nothing, I am a merchant. A man of practicality."
Misa felt a hot rise of anger. Merchant?
"I'm asking you for your opinion on our destination," he continued. "Is it what you're expecting? Does it conform to your expert opinion?"
"I don't think my expert opinion matters very much," Misa replied stiffly. "I deal with waves, ocean currents... practical things. Sailing to an abandoned rock in the middle of the ocean? Oh, I don't know, ask an airheaded minstrel, I'm sure they'd have plenty of opinions, giving their expertise in fantasies and stupidity. Maybe if you paid them enough they'll even write a song about it. Something like: Two weeks the pirate sailed, he ate his entire ship of provisions to go to an empty island. Jolly ho, jolly ho."
Even as Misa ranted, she knew she'd gone too far.
Something in the smirk gracing the Captains' handsome face sent a chill up her spine.
"Pirate?" he said softly, and smiled. The faint, unsettling light that had been in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a frightening sobriety.
Misa struggled to relax her features.
She felt Aoi's eyes on her, scrutinising.
"Aoi," the Captain turned to face his Master of Maps and gave Misa a sharp look. "I'd like to speak to you. Misato, was it? You should make yourself comfortable. The quarters are down the hatch - take whatever bed suits your fancy, provided no one else has claimed it."
Misa, suddenly cold, mumbled a quick 'yes, sir' before ducking out of the room. She felt the Captain's eyes on her the entire way, the cool green gaze prickling at the nape of her neck. She shut the door behind her, and leaned on it, head against the panel. Breathe, Misa, breathe. Two lungfuls of air. As she exhaled she felt her heartbeat subside, and the knot of fear recede to a slight butterfly in her stomach. Suddenly desperate to know what the two were talking about, she pressed her ear to the crack of the door and strained to listen. However, she could only hear the waves.