"Tanaka-senpai, can you tell us about the Seacrow again?"
The hammocks swayed gently with the rocking of the ship upon the waves. The sea was kind tonight, and the waves were not too rough. Even Yamaguchi was comfortable and at peace, snuggling into his hammock on his side, his face turned toward Hinata and Tanaka with his eyes half-shut and face peaceful with dreaming.
Hinata wiggled around to watch their senpai, too. Tanaka never tired of talking about the Seacrow, and Hinata and Yamaguchi never tired of hearing about it. The snores and sleeping breaths of the crew around them faded into the background, mingling with the ever-present hush and shurr of the waves
Tanaka smiled, a soft smile, teeth hidden away behind his curving lips. His eyes fell shut, then opened halfway in a long, slow blink. "The Seacrow..." he murmured.
The Seacrow... Hinata thought, the cadence matching Tanaka's voice. Tanaka always said the name like this, reverent and lingering, savoring the feel of the syllables in his mouth.
"The Seacrow is a ship of pirates, but it is more than that. The sailors who crew the Seacrow don't lust for gold and treasure the way most pirates do. Oh, they'll take their pay where they can find it, and they'll fight like devils for it, too. Many is the ship that has fallen to their hands for little more than the trade goods in their hold. But the Seacrow and her crew don't seek gold for the sake of it. They only need enough to keep sailing, and perhaps a little extra set by for a wild party now and again ashore.
"Nay, it's not gold that the Seacrow seeks. It's liberty. Her crew are all children of the sea and the sky, perhaps not born there, but drawn like migrating birds, seeking where they belong. The Seacrow has long been a ship of legend, though they say that in recent years she's begun to lag and lose her luster. They say the Seacrow used to soar over the waves like a bird on the wing, but now she only plods, cutting through the water like a man trudging through snow.
"But I don't believe that. Nay, I know that the Seacrow is still a high-flyer. Her crew has aged and grown and been replaced, and perhaps those who rule her now were not even sailing when the legends first began. But all who sail on that ship belong to her, for certain and sure. All who sail on the Seacrow are children of liberty who want only to be free."
Hinata smiled, ducking his mouth below the edge of the hammock where his companions would not see. He could feel sleep drawing him in, wrapping around him with arms warm and welcoming. But Tanaka's voice, murmuring along just a touch louder than the background noise of the sea, kept him tethered to wakefulness, hanging on each word.
"And what did the Seacrow do in those days of legend to earn her reputation for flight and freedom?" Hinata asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Tanaka say it again.
"Ah, such a simple question that seems, my dear kouhai," Tanaka said, playfulness lightening his sleep-worn voice. "In truth the answer is many-fold. First and foremost, of course, is the fact that the Seacrow was known far and wide as an enemy of all slavers.
"They say that there was a time when the slavers feared the Aritossa Archipelago. They knew to stay away, for the Seacrow plowed the waters there, ever-vigilant. Her captain then, the one they called the Small Giant, hated slavers with every atom of his being. No one knows why. Perhaps he once had a sister or a brother who was taken by slavers. Or a lover. Or even a friend. Perhaps he was simply born with a dual nature too fierce for the sea and sky to hold—the twin fires of love for liberty and hatred for those who would dare to take it from others.
"In any case, the Small Giant and the Seacrow fought slavers everywhere they found them. And they always won. It shouldn't have been possible. Every ship has a weakness. Every crew has their off days. Some of the slavers that ply the waters are exceedingly strong, backed by their governments and by the hungry slave-buying nations on the other side of the sea. And yet the Seacrow won. And won. And won."
"Did they ever stop winning?" Hinata asked, soft and smiling. He waited for Tanaka to say "No!" in a whispered shout, to wave his hands in belligerent rejection. He waited for his senpai's laughing, teasing voice, for his light-hearted tale to sail on like a cutter, flitting over the waves.
But Tanaka was silent. The moment stretched on for a heartbeat too long, and Hinata opened his eyes to stare at the sailor in the other hammock. His heart began to pound. Could it really be...?
But then Tanaka answered, solemn and slow. "Only once. But there's no need to talk about that. No, let me tell you the other reason the Seacrow became a legend."
Hinata settled back down into his comfy cocoon, his eyes sliding shut. He loved this part of the story.
"The Seacrow didn't only fight ships, ya know. They battled navy ships of the line and merchant vessels when they needed to drum up some goods to keep soul and body together. And they fought every slaver that dared come near the Archipelago. But there was one other entity they fought that meant more than all of the others combined."
A fraught, expectant silence settled over the three young sailors. Each of them was waiting for one of the others to say it, to break the word that made them all shiver with mingled fear and delight. Hinata hunched his shoulders tight and pressed his lips together, determined not to be the one to say it. It was always him. He could never be patient enough. The tension built, and built, and then...
"Dragons," Yamaguchi said. His voice was a hushed murmur, the word huffed out in a breathless rush of air. He curled his arms up against his chest, almost hugging himself, and if there was more fear than delight in his expression, Hinata and Tanaka had more than enough delight to make up for his lack.
"Aye, dragons," Tanaka said with great and dramatic relish. He loved this part of the story as much as Hinata did. "The Seacrow fought dragons.
"And dragons are hard to find. They curl up amongst the islands of the Shifting Sea like burrowing crabs hiding in the sand. The vast company of those who sail the sea 'round these parts have never seen a dragon, that's how good they be at hidin'. It's said that dragons can blend into the sky like clouds, and they hide the fire of their bodies in the volcanic rifts that litter the smaller isles. And not only does the sea move, but the dragons move themselves, never staying long on a single isle. 'Tis like playing a shell game with a thousand shells and a hundred beans, none ever staying still and all changing constantly. That's what it's like to seek dragons in the Aritossa Archipelago.
"But the Seacrow had an advantage. They had a marvelous navigator."
Navigator. Another word that was freighted with mystery and myth. You couldn't tell a tale about the Shifting Sea without speaking of the navigators, those special folks who had some extra touch to their spirits, something that let them see farther than ordinary sight. No ship in the Aritossa Archipelago would dare leave sight of land without a skilled navigator, for that ship might never return again. In other parts of the world, where the land and sea did not constantly shift and move, people could use maps to get around. But in the Shifting Sea, you had to have a navigator.
"Now, most would say that a marvelous navigator would be one who led you on the safest path through the Shifting Sea, avoiding all the shoals and hidden rocks. Or perhaps a navigator who could show you the quickest route between the populated islands to bring your goods to market in the swiftest and the cheapest way. Or at the very least a navigator who could keep you from getting lost, and even that is not always an easy feat in these parts.
"But the Seacrow's navigator was different. When people describe the wonders of navigators and the way they can extend their senses beyond the realm of ordinary men, they say things like 'he has an eye for danger,' or 'he can feel the sea'. But of the Seacrow's navigator, the saying was a bit different."
"What was it?" Hinata asked. He was fully drawn into the rhythm of the tale now, giving the familiar responses, participating in the telling. "What did people say?"
"They said, 'He has a nose for dragons.'"
Hinata grinned, his eyes falling shut. A nose for dragons! The thought made him shiver in something like dread and something like excitement.
"That doesn't sound very safe and all," Yamaguchi said doubtfully, chiming in as he always did at this point.
"Well, that's because it wasn't," Tanaka said with heartless cheer, ignoring the fear in Yamaguchi's voice. "The Seacrow's navigator didn't lead them to safety. The Seacrow's navigator led them into danger. And that was the way they liked it. At the height of their prowess, the Seacrow fought two or three dragons a year. Completely unheard of. Even ships that sought dragons deliberately were lucky to find one every three years or so. 'Course, only the truly mad seek dragons."
Hinata and Yamaguchi were silent, absorbing this. At this part of the story, Hinata usually asked for more details, for stories about dragon fights on tiny isles, for tales of aerial battle and the worth of a single dragon scale. The reason the Seacrow had stopped fighting dragons after a few years was too dull and uninteresting for words, and Hinata didn't want to hear that part again. He just wanted to hear the exciting parts.
But this time his mind snagged, and all he could think was one thing. It came out of his mouth on the breath of a sigh, soft and wistful and almost buried in the sound of the sea. "I wish I'd been a sailor on their crew."
Tanaka was quiet. This was not the usual pattern; he had no answer ready to his lips. They had built up this shared story over nights and nights of peaceful talk, Tanaka-senpai soothing the youngsters to sleep with his stories and songs and the rough, kind timbre of his voice. In a moment he would compose an answer, and the next time Hinata took this route he would be ready with the next part of the tale. But tonight, he was quiet.
And then he answered. "I did too."
Hinata and Yamaguchi were stunned into silence. After a moment, Yamaguchi dragged himself half upright in his hammock, staring at Tanaka over the canvas edge. "You did?" His eyes were so wide that Hinata could see the whites of them, even in the dimness of the sleeping quarters they shared with a dozen other sailors.
Tanaka murmured an assent. Suddenly his voice was wistful, too, no longer the confident and sturdy teller of tales, the strong, protective senpai that Hinata had begun to think of as "nii-san" in the hidden parts of his heart. "Aye, so I did. I meant to ship out with the Seacrow. Three years it's been, now, but that was my dream. The next time they came back to Karasuno, I was going to ask for a berth with the crew. I didn't even want pay. I just wanted to sail with them."
Hinata couldn't speak. A lump had risen in his throat, choking off speech. In the hammock across the way, Yamaguchi looked just as stricken as Hinata felt. "What happened?"
"Mm. I suppose I spent too much time hanging about the docks, watching for the Seacrow to return. Karasuno used to be her home port, you know. I suppose my face became too well-known. The sailors knew I was easy pickings. And my mouth was too free, so they knew I had no parents, only a nee-san who couldn't control me. When next the Swan came to call, I was bulled aboard and conscripted before I knew what had happened. And here I was and here I remain."
"You were conscripted, too," Yamaguchi murmured. He sank back down into his hammock and curled into himself.
"You don't seem any different than the rest of the crew," Hinata said. The tale was abandoned, now. He wanted to know about Tanaka Ryuunosuke, not the Seacrow and her fights with dragons.
"Well, I'm not. Many of us are conscripts. We're full members of the crew. Conscripts will never be officers, to be sure, and the captain will never fully trust us. Even our leaves ashore are monitored, which you'll discover next time we're in port for supplies. But the true difference is that if a volunteer deserts, he'll be stripped of his rank and lose his pay. But if we desert, the penalty is hanging."
Hinata shivered. Tanaka's voice was matter-of-the-fact, simply relating the truth of the world. Hinata and Yamaguchi had been told all of this in the first day, but they'd been unable to fully absorb it. He had vague memories of documents and signatures, being told that he had signed his name to a commission even though he had no memory of doing so, but that entire day had been a blur. Tanaka had guided them through it all, strong and supportive and steering them around obstacles they would have broken their noses on if he hadn't been there.
Hinata wondered, now, if someone had been there to do that for Tanaka. Or had he been alone, forced to adjust to his terrifying new situation all on his own? Perhaps that was why he had taken Hinata and Yamaguchi under his wing so quickly and completely.
"Well, and it's not so hopeless as all that," Tanaka said a bit too loudly, earning an "Oi!" of displeasure from a sailor roused by his voice. The cheer in his voice sounded forced, though. When he spoke again, it was softer, though no less firm and decided. "It's not hopeless, dear kouhai. The commission is five years. When mine is over, I'll seek the Seacrow again. And this time I'll find her. I swear I will."
Hinata believed him. But his heart ached at the idea of losing Tanaka's company. How would he and Yamaguchi survive on the Swan without him?
"You said it's been three years," Yamaguchi said softly. "How old were you when they conscripted you and all?"
"It was a month or two before my thirteenth birthday. So I was only a little younger than you."
"Then you were a powder boy, were you?"
"Aye." Tanaka was silent for a moment. "We do seem to be always in need of powder boys."
Neither Hinata nor Yamaguchi asked why. They already knew, and their minds shied away from the knowledge, trying not to touch it strongly enough to feel it. Better to focus on the excitement of battle, rather than the aftermath, the consequences.
Yet Yamaguchi could not stop talking. This was the first time Tanaka had spoken about his past, the first time they had learned that they had a senpai who had experienced what they were going through. Now every question that burned in Yamaguchi's heart, itching and hurting and never satisfied, could finally find a place to rest. "How many battles did you see as a powder boy?"
"Six. And aye, they were terrible. But ya don't feel the terror while you're in them. You just do what you must do. You feel the fear after, when you're safe in your bunk. That's the best way to feel it. It won't be as awful as you're expecting, Yama-chan. You'll make it through."
The kindness in Tanaka's voice almost took Hinata's breath away. He understood why Tanaka hadn't told them before that he had been a powder boy. He'd been letting Yamaguchi get used to the basics of their new life before he discussed the more frightening parts. But now that he had the chance, Tanaka would do everything he could to help their timid companion cope. Hinata would too, he resolved at once.
"We'll make it through," Hinata said in a fierce whisper. "We'll make it through because we're strong and tough and fast. I'll be by your side through anything that happens, and Tanaka-senpai will be near, too, looking out for us."
Yamaguchi let out a shaky breath. "Aye."
Hinata grinned. "Besides, Captain Ushijima is the fiercest navyman alive, that's what they say. The enemies will turn about when we give them a single volley! That'll end it right quick, and all will be well."
This time Yamaguchi huffed in amusement. "Aye."
"They took me off powder duty when I got too tall to hide easily behind the balustrades," Tanaka said. "And I'm by no means a tall man. You, Yama-chan, are already shooting up like a palm tree. Ya won't be a powder boy for long. So don't fear. All will be well."
They fell silent. None of them wanted to point out the other side of this—that Hinata was small and short for his age and likely to remain so for a long time. Unless he hit a sudden growth spurt, he would be a powder boy through many battles, far more than Yamaguchi. Far more than Tanaka.
Hinata did his best to hold on to his early excitement. He was going to get to participate in battles. As a powder boy, his skills were key. He would be running gunpowder from the armory to the cannons. The gunmen would always be glad to see him. He would always be important, always be necessary. Hinata was strong and fast, and his reflexes were excellent. He had nothing fear. He just had...a lot of excitement to look forward to. That was all.
"All will be well," Tanaka said again, the words backed by an iron will to make them true. "I'll be looking out for ya. For both of ya. So all will be well."
After another long moment, Hinata drew a long breath. "Senpai, tell me about the Seacrow."
"Oh, aye," Tanaka's voice was warm in the dark. "The Seacrow..."
And they told the familiar tale once again.