"That's it, Hinata! Forward step. Steady stance! Now thrust. And again! Aye, lad, you've got it! Let's try it again."

Hinata nodded and grinned at Juan the Elder. He stretched out his sore shoulders and swiped the sweat from his forehead as he moved back to the beginning position. He held the bokken in both hands, straight out from his body as a sword should be.

"On with ye, lad!" Juan the Elder said, and Hinata moved.

He stepped forward, taking care to keep his movements light, his muscles taut, his balance sure. And he turned on his heel, stepping forward on his left foot and thrusting the sword forward, letting his momentum carry him. He straightened and looked back to the older sailor, beaming, for he knew he'd gotten it right that time.

Juan the Elder nodded, slow and proud. "Aye, that's it. You know what you're about."

Hinata's nose wrinkled as he smiled.

The evening lessons had not stopped with Billy and Yamaguchi's fight. Instead, they had expanded. Other powder boys had approached Tanaka and asked for lessons in how to fight, and Tanaka had been delighted to gain more kouhai. Hinata had never noticed it, but Yamaguchi later told him that Billy and his mates had intimidated most of the powder boys. Now those who used to fear Billy had seen him broken by a single punch, and they saw a way out, and they took it.

In addition to more students, there were also more teachers now. Juan the Elder had volunteered to teach Yamaguchi and Hinata the basics of swordplay, and they had accepted gladly. Another sailor stepped up to teach wrestling, and another one said he would show the boys proper guncraft. They couldn't use any ammunition, but learning how to hold a pistol and the best way to aim was still valuable.

All in all, the deck of the Swan had somehow become a school for fighting styles of all kinds. It was something of a surprise, but a welcome one. Hinata certainly liked it a lot more than he'd ever liked school back in Yukigaoka.

"Now, twenty more repetitions as steady as that one, and you'll have that movement fixed in your memory." Juan the Elder stood straight, his arms crossed over his chest.

Hinata groaned. He had hoped that he would get to learn something new once he proved that he was able to do the basic thrust correctly. "Twenty more? Truly? Are you going to watch each one?"

Juan rubbed his nose. "Nay, lad, I cannot give my teaching only to you. I need to instruct Yamaguchi and the other boys as well. You must bear witness of yourself, and know in your body and heart whether you've done each movement aright. I will trust you to tell me true when you've done it twenty times. I know you'll not lie to me."

Hinata snapped straight, his heart pounding loud. "Nay, I will not!" His grip on the practice sword tightened with the force of his will.

Juan the Elder nodded. "Aye, aye. I'll go to the others now. You continue rehearsing the thrust."

Hinata gave him a salute, even though it was not in the least required. Not only was it after duty hours, only the moon and the ship's lanterns providing light for the lessons, but Juan was not truly his superior. But the older man laughed and saluted back to him, then turned to the other boys.

Hinata drew a deep breath, filling his lungs, and scrubbed his sleeve over his face to wipe away the sweat. When he raised his eyes, his gaze fell on the quarterdeck. Again he saw that stiff-shouldered figure, dark against the stars. The captain? Could he truly be watching?

Well, if so, then Hinata would display his diligence. He turned back to the sword drill, determined to do it correctly twenty times before Juan had a moment to attend to him again. He would be ready for the next step no matter the cost. Even in his haze of his concentration, though, he was still aware of Yamaguchi in the corner of his eye, straight and tall with a bokken in his hands.

Since Yamaguchi punched Billy Hanson, a few things had changed. Nothing obvious, at first. After Billy fell to the deck, curled up around his stomach with no breath even to howl, Yamaguchi's eyes went wide. He stumbled backward on the deck, bumble-footed, all the grace and power of that final charge vanished from his limbs. Tanaka caught his shoulders and held him as Yamaguchi shook and panted.

The crowd cheered and yelled. They rushed forward, everyone wanting to pat Yamaguchi's shoulders, pound his back, ruffle his hair. Yamaguchi recoiled, the whites of his eyes showing, round and staring like a panicked horse. He wrenched sideways in Tanaka's grip, almost tearing loose, almost sprawling his length upon the deck. Tanaka clenched his fists in the fabric of his shirt and held him up, then tugged him away, away from the press of bodies, the chaos of voice and touch and unwelcome praise.

Hinata rushed into the gap, accepting the praise in Yamaguchi's stead. "Did you see how grand it was!" he cried, throwing his hands above his head. "We learned that together! Tanaka-senpai taught us both!"

Fortunately, the sailors accepted this substitution and let Yamaguchi escape, pouring their enthusiasm over Hinata instead. Hinata heard Yamaguchi vomiting, though, his ears tuned to every nuance of his friend's movements. He heard Tanaka's rough, soothing voice, telling him to get it all out. Somewhere in the back of the crowd, Billy Hanson's mates hauled him to his feet and carried him away.

It was a tumultuous time. But it passed. By the next day, most of the crew seemed to have forgotten it. It was only a moment's entertainment, after all, a passing argument between two powder monkeys. It had been no more serious than a squall rising suddenly to pour rain over the deck, then disappear into mist.

Some storms shaped the landscape, though, changing the course of rivers and streams, flooding towns and washing away detritus. The changes wrought by this one might have been subtle at first, but they were strong, and they were there. The deck had become a school. The older sailors were teaching the younger, led by Tanaka's example.

And Yamaguchi didn't carry himself the same way he used to. He was still Yamaguchi—still sometimes nervous, still usually shy, quiet when he saw no need to speak, fulfilling every task given him with his jaw clenched in determination. He still preferred to listen to Tanaka and Hinata chatter rather than to lead a conversation himself, and he still didn't much care for the sight of the water.

But he wasn't scared anymore. Not of Billy Hanson, and not of himself. Now when he saw Billy and his mates hanging about, Yamaguchi lifted his chin and eyed them coldly. He no longer shrank into himself in an effort to appear invisible. The three bully-boys found other places they'd rather be as soon as they could.

He didn't shrink around anyone else, either. Billy Hanson and the memories of schoolyard torment had been Yamaguchi's dam, his barrier, the blockage that kept him from himself, and the storm had washed it all away.

"Oi, Hinata. Are you not done yet?"

Hinata looked up, a film of sweat obscuring his vision. The face in front of him was blur, and he was breathing so hard that the entire world shivered with the force of it. He lowered the bokken in one hand and rubbed the other hand over his face, then looked at the figure before him again. Yamaguchi stood there, tall and steady, frowning at Hinata with his forehead creased like an old man's.

"You're working too hard," Yamaguchi said. He reached out and snatched away the bokken before Hinata could react. Hinata protested and stretched for it, but Yamaguchi held it out of reach. "Everyone else has gone to bed and all. We work all day for the guns, and then you do this too? You need to rest. You'll have plenty of time to learn all that you need to learn."

"But I want to know it now," Hinata said. He was aware that his voice was high and whining. It reminded him of his little sister, so far away back on Miyagi Isle. The memory was like a sharp spike through his chest, and he gasped suddenly, blinking.

Yamaguchi's frown deepened. "You'll have time," he said again. "Come along, to bed with us. Tanaka-senpai is playing cards with Pascal and won't share his tales with us tonight, but I can tell you the one about the maiden in the tower."

Hinata hesitated. He loved the story of the maiden in the tower, and Yamaguchi told it very well. "But I have to do the thrust correctly twenty times before Juan the Elder will show me another sword move."

"Then you can finish tomorrow and all."

"Yamaguucchiiiii!" Hinata made another play for the bokken, jumping up and swiping for it with both hands, but his legs failed him and his usually impressive leap became nothing more than a bunny hop. Yamaguchi barely had to move at all to keep the bokken out of reach.

That, more than anything else, convinced Hinata that he needed to rest. He fell back to the deck with a heavy sigh, blinking with eyes wide and wavering. He noticed that the lanterns had been doused and he could see almost nothing.

"Come now." Yamaguchi's voice had softened. He patted Hinata's head with his free hand, gentle and kind. "The hammocks are calling us."

"Aye," Hinata said. Yamaguchi led the way, one hand holding the bokken, the other wrapped loosely around Hinata's wrist.

Something had shifted between Hinata and Yamaguchi, too. When they met in that close, stifling room at the beginning of this journey, two newly conscripted powder boys shocked and disoriented by the abrupt change in their lives, Hinata had believed with all his heart that he needed to look after Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi was physically larger than Hinata, and he was smarter and more skilled in a lot of ways. But Hinata had felt that Yamaguchi was an innocent to the world who needed to be sheltered and protected, and he had done his best to be like a big brother to his newfound friend.

Now, the balance had shifted. Yamaguchi hadn't only punched Billy Hanson for his own sake. He had done it for Hinata's, too. Indeed, if it had been only for himself, Yamaguchi might not have punched Billy at all. But with Hinata involved, it was different. Because he could not allow Billy to threaten Hinata, to insult him and bully him. He could not allow Hinata to be treated the way he had been treated.

Yamaguchi had suffered through those weeks of training, fighting hard against every weakness in his body, every hesitation in his brain, every impulse that told to him give up, that it wasn't worth it, that he didn't have the strength. He had persevered, and he had grown, and he had learned. All for his redheaded friend, who was small and bright and energetic and could not be allowed to be harmed.

After a day or two, Hinata began to realize that Yamaguchi still carried these feelings. Before, if something happened that merited fear, like a fight between a couple of older sailors or an officer ranting at the rank-and-file's laziness, Yamaguchi would have edged backward and hunched his shoulders. He would have pressed closer to Hinata's shoulder in search of connection and solidarity, which Hinata had always been happy to provide.

Now, Yamaguchi stood straighter. If he and Hinata were near each other, he would firm his shoulders and move forward, placing Hinata behind and to the side. His hands clenched into fists, trembling at his sides, and his face was blank with his effort to control his own fright. But he chose to stand in front of Hinata. To make himself the target if anything dangerous came their way.

Hinata was both heartened and irritated by this change. He was glad that Yamaguchi was feeling more confident and sure of himself, but Hinata was a sailor! He was strong and tough! He'd learned how to fistfight, the same as Yamaguchi! He just hadn't gotten a chance to punch anybody, that was all. Once he did, maybe Yamaguchi would notice that Hinata didn't need him to shield him, and they could just stand shoulder to shoulder again. That was better. Hinata had liked that.

It was true, anyway, that he could no longer think of Yamaguchi as a younger brother who needed to be sheltered. But they were still brothers, for certain, and Tanaka would always be their nii-san. They were equals and they were family. They always would be.

X

The first time Billy approached him, Hinata had no idea what was going on. It was during a water break, when the men and boys who worked the gundeck were given a few minutes to rehydrate themselves before the work began again. The guns Yamaguchi and Hinata were assigned to were on opposite sides of the ship, so they rarely were able to even see each other during these short breaks, both trapped by the crowd against the walls.

Hinata had filled his cup from the water barrel and moved away from the press, slipping beneath elbows and dodging torsos in his quest for the edge of the deck. He found a spot by a gunhole where he could stand and sip his brackish, bitter water, gazing out at the sliver of the Iron Island that was visible from this vantagepoint, dreaming about the market and the fortress and solid ground beneath his feet.

The sudden presence at his side was a shock. Hinata hadn't heard the other person approach, focused on his daydreams, and when someone made a noise—too close, too unexpected—he jumped away and hit his back against the wall. His wooden cup fell to the floor and bounced, splashing water over his shoes, and he raised his fists in a reflexive boxing stance.

"Uwaah! Wh-what is it? You wanna fight?"

Billy Hanson stood there, looking chagrined. He backed off, raising his hands in a show of surrender. "I meant no harm. I just wanted to say hello."

Hinata hunched his shoulders, tensing up even more when he realized who he was talking to. He looked around, trying to peer behind Billy's body, but didn't see Billy's two mates anywhere about. After a moment, he went still against the wall again and stared at Billy without blinking. "Hello," he responded, slow and cautious.

Billy looked around, too, and Hinata thought he read true fear in his eyes. "Is Tadashi with you?"

Hinata bared his teeth. "Oi, don't call him that. You don't have the right. You call him Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi-san."

Billy nodded right away, head bobbing up and down, eyes wide. "Of course, of course. Yamaguchi-san. He's not with you, is he?"

"What if he isn't? You gonna mess with me just because he's not here?"

Billy sighed and lowered his hands. "You're not understanding me. I didn't come to fight with you. I wanted to apologize."

Hinata narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe a word. Not for one second. "You should apologize to Yamaguchi-san. Not to me."

"Yes, but I didn't think he'd believe me. I thought perhaps you could carry the message for me."

"I don't believe you either," Hinata said haughtily. "You bullied Yamaguchi when he was little and you bullied us just a few weeks ago. Why would you apologize now? You're trying to trick me."

"It's not a trick!" Billy's eyes widened. It all seemed very sincere. Hinata could feel himself begin to waver. "Yamaguchi-san showed me the light. We were wrong to call him a weakling. He's strong. We're sorry for the way we acted, and we hope we can all be friends now."

Hinata stared at him. He glanced behind Billy and saw Yokote, the leader of the powder boys, watching from a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest. Was that it? Their leader was forcing Billy Hanson to apologize? Could he really mean it, or was he just afraid of a beating?

Hinata met Billy's eyes again. "I won't let you bother Yamaguchi. He doesn't want to see you."

Billy nodded, and something like relief crossed his face. "Of course. We'll be careful to stay out of his path. Just...please...give him our regrets. We won't bother either of you again."

Hinata accepted this, for it was, after all, Yamaguchi's rightful due. Billy's respect was too late and too little to repair the damage he'd done, but that didn't mean it shouldn't be offered. Yamaguchi deserved that much from them.

"Aye, then." Hinata slowly relaxed from his defensive position, standing away from the wall with his arms lowering to his sides again. "I'll give him the message."

"That would be grand." Billy's eyes remained wide and sincere. "You...both of you...showed us the error of our ways. Yamaguchi is a mighty sailor, and so are you, Hinata-san."

Hinata couldn't help but puff up at this. He still suspected a trick, but Billy was quickly convincing him of his sincerity. "Aye, it's the truth."

"Perhaps...we can be friends? Or at least crewmates? The three of us aren't enough for any of the good card games... Will you play with us, at least a little?"

"Me?" Hinata narrowed his eyes. "You want me to game with you?"

"Only when you have the time, of course. We need a fourth for Hanafuda. And we could play Liar's Dice! And…" Billy trailed off, aware of Hinata's discomfort. "Whatever you'd like, of course."

"Maybe." Hinata was willing to allow the possibility. He didn't think he'd have time, though. He was much too busy with his training in the evenings, and any break he could, he'd rather spend with Yamaguchi than with these knaves.

Billy nodded. "Aye, to be sure. I'll leave you to enjoy your water."

He wandered away into the crowd. Hinata watched him, then slowly bent down to pick up his cup again. It had to be a trick, didn't it? Under no circumstances could he believe a word out of that bully's mouth.

It would be nice if it was true, though. It was what Hinata had wanted from the beginning—to be comrades, to be shipmates, with no bad blood and no hard feelings. It did make sense to him that they would respect Yamaguchi now, and perhaps even feel some regret for the way they'd acted in the past.

He certainly wasn't going to game with them, though. Nay, nay, a thousand times nay. They weren't friends. He wasn't going to pretend to be their friend.

Billy and his mates approached him the next day during midday break while the sailors gnawed their smoke fish and gulped their bowls of rice. They had a pack of Hanafuda cards, and Hinata didn't refuse. He hadn't gotten to play any card games since Yukigaoka, and he wanted to be sure that his skills hadn't atrophied. Sure enough, he won the first game handily. And the second.

He didn't notice Yamaguchi watching from a small distance, waiting for Hinata to join him in their sheltered nook for their usual mealtime chat. Eventually, Yamaguchi stopped waiting.

He didn't game with Billy every day. Most breaks, he still stole away to while away the time with Yamaguchi. And if Billy and his friends saw Yamaguchi anywhere nearby, they didn't approach Hinata to begin with. Hinata was not oblivious to the tension, but he didn't know what to do about it. He had conveyed Billy's message of respect to Yamaguchi, and was not at all surprised when Yamaguchi believed not a word of it.

The time together in their little nook was still fun, despite everything, and Hinata wouldn't want to give it up. One benefit of the shift between them was that Yamaguchi was a lot more talkative now, at least when they were alone. He wasn't scared anymore about showing his true feelings about the things they talked about, either.

Sometimes he was downright blunt, though, which wasn't as nice.

"You need to learn to read a little better," Yamaguchi said once, after watching Hinata struggle through half a page of a pamphlet some of the powder boys had been passing around for entertainment purposes. The pamphlet was a treatise on naval tactics, which might have been dry reading in other situation, but everyone trapped aboard a ship would take whatever amusement they could find. Hinata had found it interesting, even though he had to stop and sound out every fifth word, and he got half the characters wrong at least a third of the time.

Hinata scowled at Yamaguchi. "I'm doing fine!" he said. "Someday I'm gonna be a captain, so I need to know about...tactics." He had to sound the last word out carefully, and even then he wasn't sure he'd said it right.

Yamaguchi, to his everlasting credit, refrained from rolling his eyes. "Captains are gentlemen, though. Gentlemen have to be able to read. You'll be dealing with all sorts of documents, like contracts and charters and course plans and all."

Hinata waved a hand in dismissal. "I'll have a crew to take care of that piffle. My first mate will be really smart, and he can deal with all the papers and suchlike."

"Who would that be?" Yamaguchi's forehead wrinkled up.

"You, of course!" Hinata beamed at him, wide and unafraid.

Yamaguchi squeaked in shock, falling back with his hands pressed to his chest. "I don't want to be a first mate!"

Hinata nodded. "I know, I know. No one wants to have to be a gentleman, like you were saying a captain has to be. Never and ever would I want to be a gentleman." He shook his head solemnly. Then he leaned closer in to Yamaguchi's face, watching him without blinking. His voice was low. "But we won't be like that, Yamaguchi-san. We won't be gentlemen, because we won't have to be. We'll be pirates, and pirates are free."

"Don't say things like that!" Yamaguchi looked around, as if anyone could see them or hear them. Some habits died hard. "We're aboard a navy vessel. Navymen hang pirates."

Hinata slumped at the reminder. "Aye, 'tis true. Juan the Younger said that Captain Ushi hanged a pirate not more than a month before we came aboard."

Yamaguchi gritted his teeth. "Don't listen to Juan the Younger. Tanaka-senpai says he's a poxy rake. And don't call the captain that. You'll be whipped for sure."

Hinata was silent for a moment, watching Yamaguchi with a speculative gleam his eye. "You've gotten kind of bossy, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi groaned and slumped down, hiding his flaming face in his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I think it's grand." Hinata puffed himself up and reached out to slap Yamaguchi on the shoulder. "You've become a man, Yamaguchi-san. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

Yamaguchi dragged his hands down his face and peeked at Hinata over his fingers. "You've been spending too much time around Billy Hanson and his mates. They patter a lot of nonsense, and it's corrupting you and all."

Hinata shrugged. He had been nervous at first, just waiting for them to start talking cruelly about Yamaguchi again, or for them to suddenly insult him and run away, laughing at how they'd fooled him. But if anything, the three of them seemed nervous around him, too. Hinata had gotten over his reticence pretty quickly. They were just boys like everyone else, trapped on a navy ship far from home. He would never forgive them for the way they had treated Yamaguchi, but he couldn't hate them.

He shuffled his feet on the deck, now, uncomfortable because he didn't like Yamaguchi being upset. He couldn't truly defend his decision to accept Billy's company, but he also couldn't say that he'd been wrong. "They're just foolish boys, like any of us."

"They're teaching you bad habits. You need to stop picking up the way they talk."

Hinata heaved a sigh and agreed, more for Yamaguchi's sake than for his own. "Aye. I'll do my best to avoid that in the future."

Yamaguchi nodded, though he clearly wasn't satisfied. He'd be happier if Hinata cut off his association with them completely. But Hinata was unwilling to break off any friendship he had begun to form, even one as uncomfortable and wary as this.

X

The Iron Island grew ever larger on the horizon until it filled the view ahead and dominated the sea. Hinata never tired of watching it approach, this grand island of green forests and white beaches, built up with a fine large town and topped with the black and gray of a mighty fortress. A few days after "Land ho!" first rang from the crow's nest, Hinata was able to make out the details of the harbor, the wide mouth flanked by watchtowers on both sides. He could see nothing of the chain boom, but he was not surprised that it would be lowered, since the Swan was coming into port.

Hinata was not the only crew member excited by the sight of the island drawing closer every hour. Indeed, the entire ship was abuzz with it. The conscripts were somewhat less enthused than the volunteers, since their chance of being allowed a leave was lower. But still, everyone thought they had a chance of being allowed off the ship. The Iron Island was a trade hub, but it was far enough from the central isles of the Archipelago that the officers might not be greatly afeared of the pressed sailors jumping ship.

"When we were at port on a central isle, anyone who called that place home wouldn't even be allowed above deck," Tanaka told Hinata and Yamaguchi once, deep in the night watches when only the three of them were still awake belowdecks. Even then, his voice was low, the tone somber. Hinata was typically oblivious to nuance, but even he could hear the pain in his senpai's voice.

"When we anchor in Karasuno, I never have a chance even to get a glimpse of my hometown. They shackle us at night, just on the chance we might try to run." He sighed, the sound almost buried under the creaking of the ship, the sway of the hammocks. "At other ports, other shore leaves, I tried to send letters to let my sister know that I was alive. But I don't know if she ever got them. For all I know, she believes me dead."

"That's hard," Yamaguchi murmured. "That's devilish hard, that is. I suppose they'll treat us the same, if ever we return to Miyagi."

"Aye, they will. Don't be shocked by it. Only be strong and endure as best you can. All will pass in time."

Hinata shivered, staring glumly up at the dark ceiling above his head. It would be unbearably awful to be in port at Yukigaoka, to know that his mother and father and sister and friends were only a few minutes' run away, and to not even be able to glimpse the wharf where he used to play with his gang. His wrists and arms ached with the phantom weight of shackles, and he curled into himself and tried to wish himself away, away, anywhere but this ship, this life he had not chosen for himself.

Nay, he could not think like that. Life on the sea did not have to be a burden. Pleasure and beauty was to be found everywhere for those with eyes to see it, to find it, to recognize its existence. "Senpai," he murmured. "Tell us about the Seacrow."

"Aye," Tanaka said, soft and low. "The Seacrow…"

The tale began again.

The Iron Island wouldn't be like that. The Iron Island was a haven open to all good ships who sailed the sea. Hinata held tight to that promise with both fists, knuckles turning white.

Then came at last the day when they reached the harbor and sailed through the open sea gate, and every man aboard the Swan yelled and cheered to greet the journey's end.

The bustle and activity on deck was enthralling. Hinata was careful to keep well back, watching with wide eyes the well-rehearsed dance of the seasoned sailors trimming the sails, following the shouted commands of the pilot and the captain as this sail and then that was furled in order to keep the speed of the ship at just the right clip. The pilot and the navigator both hauled at the wheel, making the aim true, and even Ushijima could not quite keep his usual mask of sturdy complacency.

A harbor was a shelter, but it was also a place of danger for ships. It would not do for them to crash into any of the ships already anchored here, nor to scrape along the dock when they came in. They were a proud navy vessel, and such behavior would be utterly mortifying for a lady of the Swan's stature and dignity.

Of course, they did nothing of the sort. The hand at the tiller was steady, and the men at the sails were swift and skilled. The Swan glided in to dock as lightly as any feather on a breeze. Hinata watched in awe, his mouth hanging open, and swayed gently with the movement as the ship bumped harmlessly into the dock, then was still. It was the first time he'd watch a ship dock from the deck instead of the shore, and it had been as flawless as flawless could be.

When the touchy operation was finished at last, the crew gathered on the deck cheered, throwing their caps in the air and pounding each other on the back. Then a whistle split the air, sharp and sudden. The sailors fell silent and turned to the noise, suddenly at attention.

Captain Ushijima stood on the quarterdeck, the first mate at his shoulder with the whistle to his lips. The whistle was lowered, and captain looked over the crew, slow and solemn. His thick eyebrows overhung his eyes like the eaves of a house, and his lips were set and firm.

"Crewmen," he said, his flat, strong voice flooding over the deck. The sailors stood silent, only the sound of the breeze in the loose sails and the screech of harbor birds providing background to the captain's words. Captain Ushijima frowned. "It has come to my attention that many of you are expecting there to be shore leave."

The crewmen looked at each other, but didn't dare speak. They all knew the rumors had had no substance behind them, but that hadn't stopped them from hoping. They looked to their captain, waiting his word.

Ushijima pressed his lips together as if in disapproval. Hinata held his breath. Oh, please, please let them have shore leave. He wanted to feel solid ground beneath his feet so very, very badly. He wanted to see the market. He wanted to buy a gift for Natsu.

Ushijima's mouth opened. "In truth, I had no intention of allowing shore leave. You lot are slovenly, badly disciplined, and sorely lacking as sailors and as men. I could not see how any sort of leave could possibly be beneficial for any of you."

The stillness of the crew changed in character. At the moment it was stunned and speechless, but in moments there would be discontent, grumbling, and a dangerous lack of respect. Hinata could feel it coming, and he looked around, his shoulders hunching toward his ears.

Then the first mate nudged Ushijima's arm. He blinked and glanced at him, then looked back over the crew. "Oh, yes. But my mind was changed. I saw how some of you had taken upon yourselves to learn different styles of fighting outside of the usual drills. You were teaching each other with no expectation of reward, simply enjoying the building of your own strength. I approve of that. Most heartily."

An awkward silence fell. The crew looked at each other, then at the captain. No one knew what to expect.

The first mate nudged Ushijima's arm again, and he blinked, then spoke. "Shore leave will be allowed for certain members of the crew. Do not ask for it, nor pester the officers about whether or not you will be let ashore. Those of you who have earned the privilege will be informed and allowed leave when it is convenient for us, not for you. But if we were are forced to tarry here long enough, perhaps many or most of you will earn the right to visit the Iron Island."

Again, the character of the silence had changed. Now it was charged not with unhappiness and rebellion, but with joy.

Ushijima nodded, stiffly, once. "That is all." He turned and left the quarterdeck, the first mate at his heels.

The crew waited until his back had disappeared into the cabin. And then cacophony let loose.