The Betrayed Marionette

~.~.~

By the time they had docked beside the coastal town the rain had become relentless. Fierce and furious did the heavens open - as though the wrath of some unnamed deity had been released all at once, rushing down upon them as a sudden flood and, there aboard the deck of the Shining Black, it did look to them as though the world had been submerged beneath the sea. Naught could be seen to the naked eye save the shimmer of rain and the flash of lightning in the dreary distance. With a spyglass was no better. Currently, Ikuto scowled, snapping the brass device shut in his hands and shaking away the steady drips falling from the brim of his hat. He might as well have been staring straight into the ocean, for all was merging now - the shadows beneath them obscuring the line between the land and the sea.

Overwhelmed by the tempest, the crew shivered. The rain fell as ice upon their skin. Their teeth were chattering, their lips blue and their fingers purple and, honestly, Ikuto was right behind them. They were far too used to the constant warmth of the tropics - to the comforting caress of the sun and the hiss of the surf and the haze of the heat as it rose from the golden sands of some forgotten, faraway isle - and so, as they stood here in the midst of winter with not even a candle to warm their cheeks they were thoroughly chilled to the bone. It would not do to stay here longer than necessary. Ikuto was practically chomping at the bit to descend upon whoever had sent them that mysterious summons in the first place - desperate to swoop down from the darkness of this shadowed frigate and with the shine of his sword ignite the first flicker of fear in this traitor's eyes until they were babbling; spilling all of his stepfather's secrets; letting them fall to their knees and watching the words flow from their mouth as the dismal downpour descended upon the world that night…

Yes, Ikuto thought, they would be far away from this place and it's disagreeable climate ere daybreak fell upon them. Swift they would descend and swift they would flee and yet…

And yet that fact was still not enough to ease the restlessness within his gut. It was not enough to quell the warring in his heart. No, still there lay a stain even over Ikuto's eager nature and, as he watched Amu emerge from the companionway, tucking the shine of his Dumpty Key beneath her cloak and looking upon the town with a fierce sort of determination engraved upon her face, he felt a terrible sense of dread pool deep within his stomach. Quite freely Ikuto would admit that he was no more willing to let Amu accompany him into town that night than he had been in letting her tail behind them to Hikaru Ichinomiya's manion and, quite truly, this was to be an even greater gamble than any they had taken before. This was no walk through some deserted hamlet under cover of fog, Ikuto reminded himself as he looked through the shimmering veil of rainfall all around, grey and glowing in the light of distant buildings. No, this was the closest he could get to walking straight back into the lion's den - as damned near as he could get to returning straight back to that claustrophobic little cell where he had very nearly come to terms with his own mortality, for this place was almost as densely populated and, he would guess, just as 'anti-buccan' as any could ever be, having faced the full force of Kazuomi's wrath but once before themselves.

But, at the very least, the majority of residents on this dismal night were tucked up safely in bed, away from the rain, cowering in their homes from the fury of the thunder and the flash of lightning up above. This rain was a blessing. It would mask their presence. It would distort their features and wash away their footprints. It would conceal their hearts and shadow them in obscurity, letting them fade into the background, into nothingness as the rumours said, as fickle and faded as the legendary ship they sailed… But that still didn't mean that the Captain was any more enthusiastic about having 'Her Highness' join them on their little venture.

Back on the deck of the ship, Ikuto narrowed his eyes as he watched the former princess fumble about with a rusty dagger, tucking it awkwardly into it's leather hold, her fingers slick and clumsy about it's rain-drenched hilt. He slipped it easily from her grasp and sheathed it correctly.

"One day," he almost growled, though he immediately felt guilty for it; "this won't go so smoothly. And you will regret it."

There was a moment of silence, but if Amu was in any way perturbed by his tone, she didn't show it. Amu blinked once or twice before taking back her pathetic little weapon and stuffing it in the halter beneath her cloak. "Oh, please," she countered and she placed her hands firmly on her hips, giving him a glower that could rival Utau's. "I'm not about to let you disappear off into the darkness without me! Not after the absolute disaster you made of it last time!"

In the background, someone sniggered. All around them the crew were holding their breaths, covering their mouths with dirty hands and trying their best not to burst out into laughter at the way their Captain twitched beneath her fiery gaze. 'Hell hath no fury', they whispered amongst themselves, their composure all but shattered as Ikuto's stunned silence drew on. Honestly, he tried to find a response so cutting as to be fit of such a remark, but (curse it!) he found none. Behind him his men were still biting their tongues and exchanging such knowing glances it that made Amu's chest swell up with pride, for she knew that, with that, this argument was already hers to be won.

Ikuto cast a glance at his crew as if daring any to speak. Or perhaps he was looking for backup - he couldn't tell himself - but it didn't matter. With not a single suitable response, he knew he'd utterly lost. Besides, Amu had already made it quite clear that so long as Kazuomi still held onto the Humpty Lock, any of Ikuto's business in tracking him down was hers as well. He couldn't say he blamed her (not to mention that her sitting idly by would have defeated the point in her so recklessly running away into the blue in the first place), but, whilst it almost made sense for her to follow him into this peril, that didn't quite explain…

"That reminds me," Ikuto whirled around, overcome by déjà-vu; "what the hell are you doing here?"

Kukai, who had been busy offering Amu a selection of more finely-kept blades whilst the Captain was still searching for a witty comeback, just shrugged and, after a minute or so of blank looks, clicked his tongue casually. "I'm the bodyguard?" he said uncertainly. By the look on Ikuto's face, it clearly didn't wash. Kukai sighed. "Look, Cap'n, why don't ya just trust me, man? I was the one who single-handedly busted ya outta that prison coach that time - and don't you ever forget it!"

Truthfully, Ikuto had no intention of ever forgetting it, for it was perhaps one of the brightest moments of his admittedly bleak life, but that didn't mean he was any more enthusiastic about more people following him than necessary. "Kukai, you couldn't guard a secret." he muttered, but, again, outnumbered and outwitted, he shook his head. "Whatever…" he conceded, more to himself than to anyone else. "We won't be long…"

He'd meant it to sound firm, yet it came out more like a defeat. Kukai clapped him on the back and laughed jovially; "Ya know it makes sense, Cap'n!" He chimed and he tipped his hat, ignoring the faint trickle of water that leapt from the pinch of his tricorn. He turned to one of the men beside him. "Cap'n figures we'll be back within the next hour or two, alright, lads? We'll try an' hurry it up. Ain't no good gettin' caught in this downpour!"

"This downpour will be the least of our worries," uttered a grim and tentative voice behind them. Ikuto and Kukai turned and were met with a flash of lilac as serene and sublime as the eve after sunset.

Utau was wrapping her travelling cloak around herself, fastening the clasp beneath her chin and glancing warily out over the bulwark - towards the watery lights and shimmering roads and the hazy spires intermingling with the murky cloud above. It was as though they were stood on the borderline of another world, she thought. It was as if they were gazing upon some other realm through a foggy screen; detached; their heads and hearts unclear so long as they remained adrift, cruising the confines of uncharted seas untouched by civil folk and Ikuto and Utau and everyone else then present suddenly felt wracked with trepidation, for to cross that line and walk once more among honest men was a most foolhardy stunt if they had ever seen one.

But their minds were set. Their ship was docked. Their courage was fuelling the fire in their blood. In the background, the men were handing out armaments and whispering words of encouragement as the little group made towards the gangway. Utau took a single pistol and stowed it beneath her cloak before disappearing with the princess and disembarking onto the quay. Ikuto was presented with a cutlass so finely polished that it looked almost newly hewn. He sheathed it in his belt with an appreciative mutter of thanks and rolled his eyes as he watched Kukai fiddling awkwardly with an unprimed pistol.

Ikuto smirked. "Your powder's wet, bodyguard."

The pirate cursed in a dialect Ikuto didn't recognise and his pistol hit the floor with a heavy 'thunk!'. Ikuto chuckled lowly and shook his head. He tossed him a spare gun from his holster and the two were off, slipping silently onto the deserted dockside and, meeting the ladies in the shadow of a nearby toll house, they vanished into the gloom. The thunder had begun to clap with increasing fury as they dashed with soggy steps into the relative shelter of a nearby alleyway. It was darker in here, yet fairly drier, though the wind whistled with a chill through the narrow space and the booming up ahead echoed between the walls, resounding ten times over in their ears. Amu jumped violently as one such tremor fell from the heavens. Ikuto would not have noticed had she not accidentally grasped the back of his cloak for support. Instantly his heart skipped a beat.

'Thunder, huh?' he thought to himself curiously and, as a furious bolt of lightning struck somewhere nearby, he caught a flash of her pale face in the flickering light. Beneath a mess of pastel pink he saw her eyes were wide and frightened - as startled as a doe faced down by dogs, yet still as glorious as candlelight on darkened shores. Seeing that they were a little behind their companions (for Utau was tearing ahead like the navy was right behind her and Kukai was busy trying to keep up if only to dry out his powder in good time), Ikuto subtly found the small of her back and drew her closer to him. He felt her inhale sharply as her side made contact with his. He smirked.

"Poor little Amu," the Captain drawled, his lips twitching. Amu shivered. "Does Her Highness desire a hand to hold?" he teased, leaning down, his lips near flush against her cheek. "After all, a storm is a frightful thing… But rest assured, your Captain is at your service…"

Ikuto bit back a grin at the way her cheeks so instinctively grew pink. He tried not to laugh - tried not to let his expression break. His hand found hers and oh-so-sneakily he wound his fingers through her own.

But she did not respond. Ikuto's light tone faltered for the briefest second. "You know," he added, casting their companions a fleeting glance before leaning back to whisper in her ear; "they're not paying attention."

But still there was nothing and yet, though his tone dripped heavy with amusement - though his eyes were alight and his tone so teasing - Amu's expression did not change. There was no eye-roll, no half-hearted huff. Amu just glanced back at him, her face grave, and shook her head before turning away and glancing warily around at the little alleyway. Releasing herself from his grasp, she hugged her cloak closer to her body, peering round corners and shying away from little alcoves and suddenly Ikuto thought he understood. His stomach dropped. Something uneasy stirred in his gut - something that had long lain untouched within his memory, for, though he'd tried, he had not had the courage to recall it.

And he realised that it was not the thunder that disturbed her. No, not the thunder... And suddenly, whatever Amu had seen that spooked her so, Ikuto saw too.

In his head, flames were flickering hauntingly across the walls. Ringing in his ears were the shouts and jeers and chants of many men. At the end of the alley he thought he could see shadows - figures, tall and grim and black as the night, wielding torches, prowling the streets. They were concealed in every corner; they followed his every move; every so often Ikuto would catch a fleeting glimpse of some dark spectre in the corner of his eye and, now that he was aware of them - of those devils that still ran amok in his darkest dreams - he knew Amu's fear. This maze of streets had sparked a memory - yet another memory that Ikuto wished he could forget.

But, though the two of them (nor any other man aboard the Shining Black) would ever forget that night - that unbelievable, unexpected eve their former Captain had fled - Ikuto had to remind himself that this was not the same place. These were not the same streets; not the same alleyways; there were no townsfolk lurking amongst the gloom and the rain, tearing along the roads with their torches ablaze and their fangs bared. That terrible ordeal was far behind them… Yet it was with great difficulty that Ikuto forced the unwelcome déjà-vu aside and ushered Amu past the gaping mouth of a nearby walkway.

"Deserted," was all he said. In fact, he said it so quietly that Amu couldn't decide whether or not he'd been talking to himself, but there was an edge to his voice - a firm, reassuring sort of tone - that almost made her smile, for it was enough to calm her frantic nerves. She inched away from his hold. They continued in silence.

All four members of the little group were grateful that in that time they saw not a soul. Street after street and alley after empty alley lay bare and barren before them, undisturbed save for the incessant 'pitter-patter!' of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. The cobblestones were glistening in the soft light; puddles glowing gold under streetlamps; and with every step their heavy bootsteps were muffled by the deluge until they became but silvery, fleeting figures in the mist, greyed out by the rain. They could have been but the breath of the breeze as they slipped down yet another darkened backstreet and they had gone for perhaps a further mile in this way before Utau stopped abruptly up ahead, squinting through the dim light at the surrounding buildings. She turned full on the spot, seemingly scrutinising every brick, before diving into a nearby alcove. There, almost obscured by the darkness, was a heavy, wooden door. Utau gestured for them to come forwards.

"Come on," she said. "We're here."

Overheard, a brief flash of lightning lit up her companions dumbfounded expressions. They were peering curiously up at the building before them. Certainly it stood apart from the uniform dwellings all around. It was old - older than most. It was probably one of the more original structures in town, but it was run-down, slumped sluggishly under the weight of its own years and, even in the dark, they could see that it's plaster was all but gone; it's windows were either boarded or broken; up there, way beyond their heads, it's chimneystack was half-crumbled, beaten and battered by the ongoing torrent. That explained the state of the alleyway, Ikuto thought. All about them were broken bits of stone and masonry and, as he glanced up, squinting through the icy rain, he thought that it was perhaps an inn or tavern. Lights were out on the floors above, but through the single pane of glass in the doorway he could see that a single orange glow was flickering somewhere deep inside. He looked at his sister sceptically.

"Are you sure this is the place?"

Utau didn't answer. For a moment, Ikuto thought that the doubt in his voice had been drowned by the fall of the rain, for his sister didn't so much as glance back at any of them until Kukai tapped her on the shoulder; "It says it's closed!" He said. And he pointed to the sign hanging behind the window, swinging loosely on the other side of the glass.

But Utau just shot him the trademark Tsukiyomi smirk and nodded. "Perfect."

Ignoring her cohorts, Utau strode forwards and rapped on the door. Then on the glass. The sign jumped dangerously on its tether in the window and danced awkwardly before their faces, but no one replied. A heavy silence stretched between them. The four pirates stood there, soaked through, straining their ears for any hint of movement inside; squinting in an effort to descry any shadow; any movement; any sign! Amu was holding her breath. Kukai pressed his nose to the glass like a hound, his breath fogging up the glass, wiping back the grime and grit furiously to peer inside. Ikuto was creeping forwards, unaware of himself, unknowingly tensing as though prepared to pounce…

And, just when they thought that they could wait no longer, they saw it. The glow inside flickered. The candlelight danced in the dark. Instinctively they stuck together. Ikuto's hand flew to the hilt of his sword, dreading the worst, for this was after all the former cohort of a truly terrible man…

Then, quick as a flash, they caught sight of a shadow in the doorway.

But what greeted them was unlike anything they'd expected.

And so they stood, dumbfounded and drenched, as out from the darkness rang the sweetest, brightest, most gleeful voice they had ever heard;

"UTAUUU-!"

~.~.~

Ikuto could not comprehend it. Honestly, neither he nor Amu nor even Kukai (who was undoubtedly the most easily swayed of the bunch) could quite believe their eyes. One moment he had been creeping through a haunting web of deserted streets - sneaking through the shadows; slinking down alleys like skittish cat - absolutely and quite equally riled and terrified to be finally making progress; to be chasing the ghost of his torment; to at last come face to face with whom he could only suppose was a ruthless, treacherous, slimy ex-conspirator of his stepfather's and the next…

The next he was sat in a homely little drinking hall, too on edge to settle into his plush-backed chair which was embroidered with faded swallows and quaint, oriental blossoms, whilst the most welcoming fire in existence roared steadily in the open hearth beside him - a single, blessed source of light and heat after the bitter storm outside. Embers cracked and flickered, reflected in the light of his eyes. He might have sighed in relief had be not been so struck dumb.

In fact, Utau's crewmates were still stricken into silence, visibly gaping as they watched their… Their 'host', they supposed, throw her arms around the blonde, giggling and chattering and exchanging pleasantries as though she hadn't just picked up four wanted criminals on her back doorstep.

A young girl she was - hardly the traitor the pirates had pictured upon receiving that summons only days ago. Short in stature, rosy-cheeked and with hair the colour of finest bronze, she was barely of age to drink in public (an odd fact, considering that she seemed to know the back of the bar like the back of her hand) - and what a young age that was in these parts, Ikuto thought to himself, still in awe and utterly perplexed as he watched the way his sister stood there and just took this unnecessary show of affection. She barely said a word - barely blinked! She didn't protest; didn't huff. She barely allowed anyone to so much as shake her hand and yet now Ikuto watched in horror as his sister merely grimaced through embrace after bone-crushing embrace. She waited for the child to step away before rolling her eyes;

"Come on, Yaya," Utau began, though there was a playful lilt to her tone and her lips were twitching fondly; "What, you want us to freeze to death? Move over and pour us some fire for the road."

The girl laughed aloud - a bubbly, summery sort of sound that seemed to pierce through every shadow; seemed to lighten every darkened corner - and pouted; "Aw, Utauu-!" the girl whined. "So mean…" she said, but begrudgingly she stepped aside and pulled out a chair for her, placing it across from Ikuto's beside the fire. Utau took it gratefully, but Kukai and Amu were still lingering beside the door, hesitant, sharing puzzled looks and marvelling at the scene before them. The girl noticed almost immediately. She smiled brightly and gestured to the remaining seats by the hearth.

"Well, don't dally!" the girl exclaimed, her face glowing as bright as her eyes in the light of the flames. "Make yourselves at home! Hand Yaya ya cloaks and she'll have 'em dry! No good leavin' 'em wet an' gettin' a chill. Come on, sit down, sit down!"

Somewhat amused by their torn expressions, Ikuto watched carefully. Eventually Kukai grew bold enough to tip-toe towards his seat, head down, not daring to refuse nor question the commands of such a persistent young woman. Though, really, it wasn't hard for him to resist. There was a warmth spilling forth from the fire that was so enticing; so welcoming; just beckoning them into the heart of that little old tavern after enduring such a bitter winter's chill. And in fact, their host was so forcefully hospitable that none could find it in themselves to refuse her. She weaved through the tables and chairs of the empty drink hall and offered out steaming, cracked mugs of what smelled like an earthy kind of tea. When Ikuto looked back up at her she was shoving a beverage towards him with one hand and tearing off his sodden cloak in the other. As soon as Ikuto compiled, the young girl swooped over to his sister, babbling away as she hopped to each in turn.

"Well, Yaya knows ya'll would've preferred a bit of fire for a night as this, but the ol' landlord won't be best pleased if all his finest rum's gone in the mornin'. Mighty relieved ya'll made it here, though!" she said brightly, gathering any wet, discarded garments over her arm. "Yaya heard what happened with the old Cap'n! Blessin' that he's gone! Horror that he's still alive, mind you!" And, with this, she jumped to Kukai who leapt about a foot in the air as she leaned in and flashed him an inappropriately excitable grin as she blurted; "Ya think he's lost his marbles?"

Red in the face and still juggling with his scalding mug of tea, Kukai could only stammer. "U-Uuh, w-well, I-"

But she was off again, snatching his cloak in her grasp and bundling it into her arms; "Still! He can't have much more to lose than that! Yaya would be willin' to wager her pay he didn't up an' abandon ship so likely. His pride and joy were the ol' Shinin' Black. An' a beauty she is, too! On'y seen her the once, mind you. Still…" she sighed, shaking her head and inching over to Amu who, up until this point, had been hovering awkwardly beside the bar, casting curious eyes over the empty room and idly running her finger over the rim of her mug in thought. Over and over and over she went on, restless, handing out her wet cloak to the girl without question, lost too deep in thought to pay her any heed…

But then the babbling ceased. The young girl stopped and, when Amu at last drew herself back to the scene before her, she felt her skin bristle.

Having sat by so idly, melting into the background beneath the relentless stream of chatter, carried away in confusion as they listened to the girl's delightful tone… It was thoroughly unsettling for her to fall so quiet. Silence had fallen like a weight upon the room. Amu's fellow crewmates were peering over curiously, their quietude broken only by the subtle spitting of the fire, but that was not what unnerved her. What unnerved her was that the young girl's eyes were as wide as saucers - shining and glittering in the dim light like brass plates. Her cheeks were rosy; her mouth was agape; she looked to Amu as one in awe or, at the very least, like a child on Christmas morning - all big-eyed and bushy-tailed and young. So, so young…

The quiet, however, didn't last long. The girl jumped once on the spot, clapping her hands together in pure excitement. "Heavens ABOVE!" she squealed - so deafeningly shrill that, in the background, Kukai leapt out of his skin and winced, clapping his hands over his poor, abused ears - but Amu could do little more than stammer dumbly as this Yaya girl leant forwards, abandoning her stash of cloaks over the back of a chair, and cried aloud;

"Her Highness!" she exclaimed, pink in the face, her eyes agleam; "Her Highness, my goodness!" And she curtseyed, brief but low, before throwing in a quick bow for good measure. "Princess Amu Hinamori! In this tavern of ours! Well I never! Your Highness, please, you must come sit! Come over here an' dry! That's it - Yaya will fetch more tea. Yaya is so honoured tonight, truly so! The Cap'n an' Her Royal Highness!"

"A-Ah, well, now-" Amu began to stutter uselessly as the girl whisked her across the room and set her forcibly down in an armchair square in front of the hearth. "I-I don't- I don't know about that- Y-Yaya, was it?"

At this, Yaya jumped on the spot, apparently indescribably flattered that the princess had so much as uttered her name. "T-That's right!" she nodded fiercely, blushing madly, and snatched up the kettle hanging above the fire. "Yaya is so honoured, miss! Yaya could not believe Her Highness-"

Amu smiled weakly. She set down the tea awkwardly on the arm of her chair and opened her mouth to respond when-

"Do you have it?"

Amu frowned. Yaya's blush was gone now, but her eyes were still sparkling even here as she stood with her back to the fire, her voice suddenly hushed, low and conspiratorial as if the very walls themselves might have ears - as though something truly sinister might lurk in the shadows all about them. 'Her Highness' shook off that uneasy thought as quickly as it came, for she was already spooked enough by her little trip through the lookalike maze, and uttered uneasily;

"W-What..?"

Yaya's eyes darted for the briefest of seconds to the hollow of skin beneath her neck - to the line of her sullied bodice and the swell of her chest. "That… The…"

"The Humpty Lock?" Utau threw in breezily. At the mere mention of it's name, Yaya let out a minute squeak and nodded so urgently that it was a wonder she didn't injure herself, but, as soon as she understood, Amu's heart sank. She looked down shamefully at the scruffy floorboards beneath her feet. A shadow fell upon her face. In her mind, she still saw that glitter of gold and the shine of crystal - pure and polished; as the moon shines upon the calm waters of a subdued sea; as the stars and the heavenly glow of that glorious sky beneath which she and Ikuto had stood and watched the night together… And yet now… Now Amu wondered if it could shine at all, locked tight in the grasp of bloodstained hands, a world away and God knows where.

Faintly, Amu let out the driest of laughs. "Has it's legend really spread so far?"

Yaya, it seemed, was utterly deaf to the defeat in her voice. "But of course!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Luck and fortune and prosperity beyond desire! Of course! Of course, Your Royal Highness! Why, when Yaya was a young'n - when Yaya first settled down here in this little town here - the ol' jeweller down by Wharf Street used to sell us kiddies li'l copper lookalikes for two pennies a piece - if we could get 'em…" And then she paused - suddenly hesitant. A warm, soft glow overcame her expression. "Yaya's mother used to tell her the stories when she was but a little one. Yaya used to listen to ma's stories of old an' stay awake dreamin' about the pirate lord an' the ancient king an' the secrets hidden away behind the face of that golden Lock… Yaya used to fantasize about that Humpty Lock of yours, Your Highness. Yaya has grown up with it in her mind's eye, she has. Thinks it's amazing - to be passed down through so many heiresses after all this time…"

And, by this time, the girl's eyes were so bright and sparkling that Amu's chest felt rent as by some heavy blow, for she recognised that look of awe. She recognised that expression of wonder. She remembered sitting at her mother's feet and sharing that same childish amazement as wondrous tales ran wild within her head - tall tales and folk tales and scary tales and every myth and legend besides…

But to think that her own Humpty Lock was as romantic to some as any one of her mother's tales to her was something else - something that she wasn't prepared to hear. If Amu was really in a fairy story, she thought, then why had her mother's locket been taken from her so easily?

Feeling something uncomfortable stir within her chest, Amu swallowed thickly. "I-It is just a trinket." she said, though albeit with great difficulty. Across the room she saw Ikuto's eyes narrow in concern, but she ignored him. She faced the young girl. "It's crystal and gold and nothing more." she said. "Hardly the stuff of legend."

But, if Yaya was perturbed by this, she did not show it. In the pause that followed, the girl just smiled. She shook her head. "No. Perhaps not…" Yaya said softly. "Perhaps there isn't any power left in that ol' Lock o' yours, Your Highness… But don't make it any less the stuff 'o legend. Nor you, miss."

Amu raised an eyebrow. "Nor I?"

Yaya's smile grew wider. Wordlessly, the girl straightened and beckoned Amu to stand. Wordless and clueless, she did. Yaya brought her to the hearth - stood right before the blazing fire mere feet away - and gestured up toward the chimney breast. There, slightly burnt and browned at the edges, hung a tapestry. It was not much. Merely an old, faded depiction of some harvest scene, lined with cheap, golden lookalike trim and drawn in the style of the local land. Amu did not see anything particularly special about it, but Yaya just laughed, shook her head, and grabbed a corner.

"Pardon me, Your Highness, but I think you'll find far more worth in your own legends if you on'y look to find 'em."

And, with a flick of the wrist, Yaya pulled the tapestry clean from the wall, sending years worth of dust and dirt and chimney plaster showering down as a rain upon her guests, crackling and spitting in the firepit beneath them. But, when all had settled - when the dust had cleared and the tapestry tapestry fell fluttering to the floor, Amu could only stare in awe, for she all of a sudden found herself staring into golden eyes. Honey golden eyes. Honey gold against pale skin and crimson lips and the same feathery, pastel hair of softest pink that fell about her shoulders even now as she stood, gazing up at her own face, at a loss for words.

Above the fireplace hung a portrait - Amu's portrait. She heard Kukai let out an appreciative hum at the fine depiction, for it really was an amazing likeness. Utau looked largely unfazed, but Ikuto rose from his chair and stepped back to cast his eyes over the princess in all her royal finery. The expression on his face was so subtly awestruck that she almost blushed.

She remembered having this very painting commissioned, now that she thought about it. It couldn't have been long ago - perhaps a couple of years at the most - but she remembered the long hours and the kind artist and the way her parents had beamed and clapped as they had it hung in the royal gallery of the palace, set along a line of past rulers of the empire, wholly unaware that one day they would have to take it down and seal her fate and send her across the sea to submit to another's kingdom. So this painting could not have been genuine, Amu guessed, and yet even as a copy the detail was still exquisite. Her dress was magnificent - a flowing ball gown spun from silk and lace and adorned with golden embroidery about her bodice, stark against deep crimson. Delicately fell blush-coloured locks about her face, springing free from a high bun secured by diamond-topped pins...

But Amu saw - most magnificent of all - that splash of gold about her neck, so familiar; so heart-wrenching. It's lustre was like no other jewel about her person. It's catch of the light leapt from the canvas as though she were looking upon the real thing rather than paste and pigment, hanging in a darkened tavern atop a crumbling mantlepiece.

Amu's heart lurched horribly as the Humpty Lock and it's many crystals taunted her just as it had done so many times in her dreams and, suddenly feeling very small and drab in comparison, Amu shied away. "I don't understand." she murmured, slinking in what felt to be the shadow of her former glory. "It's just a painting. I've sat for hundreds of them."

Yaya opened her mouth to speak, but Ikuto was faster. He shook his head. "The seal on the summons…" his voice sounded faint and frail from disuse as he stared up at the portrait, having been almost entirely stunned to silence since setting foot in this little place. He fumbled about in the pockets for a moment or two and when he rejoined them he was unravelling a familiar scroll of parchment in his hands. He held it up to the light and then at the painting, looking struck by recognition. "Is it a royal seal?"

Only then did Amu recall it - the image of the maiden in the billowing dress, stuck fast in the waxy seal attached to Yaya's message. She saw it shining faintly in the firelight as Ikuto scrutinised the similarities. There was no doubt about it. Yaya's seal was indeed the image of Her Royal Highness, but Amu either couldn't see or didn't care for the significance.

"Is the landlord's face for this here tavern, sir," Yaya explained; "as a tribute to Her Royal Highness. Mad royalists a lot o' people here were before the scandal, Ya Maj'sty. A bright and prosperous future for Seiyo an' all, you were, up 'til recent."

"I can't imagine why," Amu muttered drily, but the girl ignored her. She nodded towards the painting, calm and collected.

"But you'd be surprised. Even after all that's happened, people still come here to look at you, you know, Your Highness, perched high up there." Yaya smiled somewhat humbly at her. "On'y on certain days, of course. We have to keep your likeness covered up at times on account o' the scandal an' all. Some of our clientele weren't so appreciative since then, you understand." She shrugged lightly; "But they don't come in here no more - or, at least, the ol' landlord won't let 'em. But, when all's good an' everyone's jolly, locals here'll sit about by this hearth 'til the small hours of the mornin' and spin sea-stories worthy of the ol' legends themselves." And she beamed; "Seiyo hasn't had this much excitement since the ol' pirate lord roamed the seas hisself! You're every little'un's favourite story now - whether they knew about that Lock or not! You're the royal who ran off with the ruffians!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Amu thought she saw Ikuto desperately fight back a cheeky smirk. She didn't turn to check, but she caught Utau rolling her eyes in his direction. She ignored them. Currently, Yaya sighed and looked up fondly at the royal painting;

"A story may be just a story, but it don't matter," she said. "Just the same as a lock may be nothin' but a lock. Those who don't despise it… Well, we adore it if you don't mind me saying so Your Highness. It does us well in these uncertain times, miss."

Amu tried to respond. Really, she did, but the words were stuck in her throat. She glanced over at their host and saw that Yaya's eyes were wide again; full of wonder; full to the brim with childish glee so pure that it almost broke the princess' heart to admit;

"I…" she shook her head weakly. "I don't have it." And Yaya's face fell - a fairy legend shattered; a childhood dream destroyed; that bright light her eyes dimming as the dazzling sun slips behind solemn cloud and, so rent by the theft of her most precious possession, Amu could not deny that she felt that girl's childhood loss tug at her own heart. "It was stolen from me." she said finally. "The previous Captain - he took it from me. He kept it... I never had a chance to steal it back."

Yaya looked away, crestfallen, and Amu felt her heart sink like an iron weight. The loss of her mother's lock was as ever gaping hole within her chest and, apparently, her companions felt equally disheartened because nobody said anything for a good few moments. Yaya cast her gaze gingerly upwards towards the portrait. Utau sighed quietly and slouched back in her seat, a frown etched across her face and a bitter curl upon her lips and Amu thought that she was probably picturing that very Captain's ghastly face in her mind. The fire was still spitting away, popping and spluttering and radiating golden warmth upon the forlorn figures gathered around its hearth. Hung high above it, Amu could almost kid herself that its light danced in the crystals of her Humpty Lock as it did beneath the sun itself - beneath the moon and the stars and against the brilliant shimmer of the sparkling tide.

Eventually, the princess uttered;

"Yaya…"

Yaya raised her head by a fraction, but did not speak.

"You really believe that the Humpty Lock brings good luck?"

And, without even missing a beat, the young girl nodded. "Of course!"

A smile twitched faintly at the edge of Amu's lips. This girl was so delightfully innocent; so full of life and cheer that it warmed her heart. She reminded her of her sister; of precious, sunkissed summers long passed; of sitting beneath the starlight on her balcony edge and indulging in the sort of outlandish, enchanting fantasies that only childhood could conjure up. And Amu was not sure that she had ever wholly believed the legend behind the Humpty Lock - nor, for that matter, that it even lead to fortune - but Ami had. In fact, now that she thought about it, this Yaya was probably about the same age now as her little sibling. The pinkette almost had to remind herself that she was talking to an entirely different person. She pushed the thought away and pressed on;

"What about it's Key?"

Yaya looked about ready to nod so fiercely that she'd give herself concussion, but before she could Ikuto stepped in, brushing lightly past, angling himself just slightly enough that the shadow of his form was cast about the room and the lot of them were plunged into a sudden gloom. "The Key is a different matter," he began; "Kazuomi may already have his hands on the Humpty Lock, but by our blood we will ensure that the Dumpty Key never falls into his possession."

At this, Yaya's jaw just about dropped to the ground. "Ya'll know where it is?" she exclaimed in a hushed kind of whisper. "The ol' Cap'n searched his whole life for that Dumpty Key! Ya'll surely can't 'ave found it!"

In the dim light, Amu and Ikuto exchanged subtle looks which, thankfully, went unnoticed by the girl, far too wrapped up in her own excitement to pay attention. Kukai, however was less so;

"Well..." he said slyly, tapping the bridge of his nose and winking openly. "Can't say fer sure, but I- AGH-! Utau!"

The blonde just rolled her eyes, unimpressed, and removed her elbow from the dimwit's stomach; "What Kukai means is it doesn't matter either way. Whether we have any inkling of the Dumpty Key or not, Kazuomi will not be getting away with the Lock so easily."

"Ourselves and an entire crew of men await their revenge." Ikuto smirked wryly. "And, until we can deal out such justice as we deserve, we will search the seas ourselves to find him." And then the chill grin faded and a darkness overcame his face as he closed in on the girl before him; "But… You have had correspondence with my stepfather… Am I right? You summoned us here tonight and, unbeknownst to the rest of us, you recognise my sister, yet I don't recall your face…" Yaya shivered, but hesitated. The Captain gazed down upon her curiously. "Who are you, exactly?"

There was a pause. Yaya shifted uneasily, but her expression grew soft and nostalgic. A sad smile twitched at the corners of her lips. She sighed; "Cap'n… 'Tis a shame truly that you don't recognise Yaya's face. Yaya remembers you, sir. Oh, truly, Yaya remembers the young li'l Tsukiyomi just as Yaya remembers Utau an' the Lady an' the noble Sir of the house, though Yaya would 'ave been still just a young'un the day disaster called."

Ikuto's face fell. Amu saw him pale. "What do you know of-"

"Yaya must say, young Tsukiyomi, sir, it's a real great pleasure to finally meet ya again after all this time!" she burst out, bouncing on the spot, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Yaya was so worried when Yaya's parents told her the family were gone! Yaya's ma was a seamstress, Cap'n, sir! Ma used to stitch for the Lady an' young Utau on occasion. The Lady Tsukiyomi was one o' the kindest Yaya's ever met, sir. Ma used to take work from her as often as she could get her hands on it. An', well…" she faltered. Something sorrowful fell across her face. Yaya swallowed thickly and went on, hesitant; "The last time Yaya an' ma walked up the path to the mansion… There was none. Burned to the ground, it was, an' still smokin' even as we left it… Yaya didn't understand it…"

Ikuto watched the girl carefully. She was slinking into shadow now, looking just as lost and bewildered as he supposed she had that day. He felt almost sympathetic.

"But that's why Yaya became a spy, ya see!" she declared proudly. "When Yaya was old enough herself the Cap'n came to this here town, ya know. Yaya was small, but Yaya could work as well as any other an' after the raid she noticed some o' those scoundrels frequentin' the landlord's place more than some. Not many authorities round here since that raid, ya see. People are poor. We don't got much the navy wants protectin', so it suited the Cap'n well."

"That's awful." Amu cut in, sounding scandalised. She was red in the face, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "What it would cost my family to defend this town as well as all others, well… Let's just say we wouldn't be digging deep in our pockets."

"Nah," Yaya shrugged dismissively. "It worked out well, ya see, Ya Maj'sty. If it weren't for that, Yaya would never 'ave been able to bring ya'll here tonight! Ya know, the ol' Cap'n's thugs used to come by an' stay upstairs so often that he'd send 'em their correspondence straight here! Letters an' scrolls an' bird - the lot!" And, at the pirate's astonished expressions, she laughed aloud; "O' course a lot of 'em died in a shootout just outside o' town, but the messages kept comin'. Kept on turnin' up a year straight after that, in fact, an' one day Yaya just thought 'to hell with it!', so she read the lot an' who's name did Yaya come across? Tsukiyomi, o' course! Yaya never forgets a name!"

To the side, Utau sat back leisurely in her seat and smirked mischievously. "Of course," she began, grinning even wider at the bewildered look on her brother's face. "It was easy enough for Yaya to connect the dots. It's been a while since our last exchange, though. Kazuomi did his best to keep a tight hold on outside messages."

Their host nodded. "Yaya even heard about the Cap'n's plot to capture the princess!" she chimed in a little too delightfully for the subject at hand. "O' course, Yaya just got proclaimed a ravin' lunatic for her troubles, but-"

"I'm sorry," Ikuto interrupted, holding out a hand to cut her off. He looked utterly sceptical. "Kazuomi's men have been sending messages to a few dead men all these years?" he said, doubt heavy in his voice. When Yaya nodded, he looked torn. "My stepfather is admittedly smarter than that..."

But, to their great disbelief (and mild horror) Yaya just shrugged, laughing gleefully as though Ikuto had said something utterly hilarious; "Can't find out they're dead if ya don't find the bodies!" A terrible silence followed. Kukai and Amu backed away in fear. "Well, ya'll should know better than most," Yaya elaborated; "that folk up an' down this country don't take well to the like o' pirates! Any buccan or thief or beggar dies in this town an' they get chucked straight into an unmarked grave. No fuss, no hassle - we just get 'em out the way as soon as possible. There's a whole cemetery on the edge o' town for 'em. Why, when these sorry men o' fortune died here, the landlord had 'em on the back of his cart and up the track to Dead Man's Hill faster than Yaya could pour him a drink for the road."

The pirates exchanged dubious looks. Ikuto's gaze fell upon Amu. She looked deep in thought, considering all of this carefully, but didn't respond. Kukai shrugged; "I mean," he began slowly; "they were pretty keen to get you outta the way, Cap'n."

Ikuto felt like heaving an almighty sigh. "Thanks, Kukai." he muttered, rubbing his temples. This whole business was growing tiring very quickly. He made to go on - made to launch himself into a further interrogation of this young girl - when Utau clicked her tongue impatiently.

"Oh, will you give it a rest, Ikuto?" she huffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest and inching over to stand beside the young girl. "Do you honestly think I would've been sending secret scrolls to Yaya for all these years if I didn't trust her?"

Ikuto blinked, stunned to silence. But it was only for a second. He sent her a glower. "I don't doubt your instincts, Utau," he said slowly - patiently as though trying to speak sense into a small child. "Would you trust me as your Captain if I didn't give it any thought? I'm not blundering foolhardy into a trap - not now. Not after stepping so close to the gallows once before."

Utau looked aghast. "And who's fault was that?" she demanded. "No one forced you to go running off into the blue-"

"Ooh, and a mighty good bit o' fortune there that Cap'n made it out unscathed!" Yaya interrupted (much to Ikuto's relief), her hands clasped together before her face, praying as if in thanks and babbling on; "Yaya would've gone to the square that day, ya know, sir, but Lord knows the journey up the coast ain't cheap an' the landlord was up in bed too low to serve the bar that day. But word travels fast, sir! Why t'was on'y the afternoon when our locals came in babblin' about a shootin' an' pirates an' sunken ships! Oh the excitement! Yaya was bouncin' behind the bar all day! Lucky for you, Cap'n, to have a crew so brave an' daring!"

At this, Kukai beamed. "Say no more! Say no more, my lady!" he laughed aloud, clapping a hand across his knee; "Ya hear that, Cap'n? 'Brave an' daring'! Ain't no regular bodyguard, am I?"

In the background, Amu snickered. Ikuto ignored her. And Kukai too, in fact. He turned his back on the still-chortling pirate and tried to focus on the issue at hand. "This doesn't settle the fact that these men have been receiving summons from Kazuomi." he told Yaya sternly. The girl immediately shrunk under his stare, if by only a fraction, but nodded happily. "Explain." he demanded. "What was the summons?"

Almost immediately, Kukai fell quiet. A hush overcame the room. Yaya held her breath - for the first time actually looked nervous under the gaze of her four guests as they regarded her with eager eyes, the flicker of the firelight dancing across their faces, the shadows shifting about their feet. They watched on as the young girl twiddled her fingers and cocked her head, considering long and hard how best to begin.

Just as Ikuto's patience was beginning to run short, Yaya nodded at the chair by the fireplace. "Yaya thinks you oughta sit down, Cap'n." she said simply. "Yaya has some explaining to do."

Ikuto looked back at the chair only briefly. On the contrary, just about every one of them now was on their feet, inching closer, watching the girl with curious eyes, their breath held. Realising that none would follow, Yaya caved;

"He's gatherin' his gangs," she said, her voice strained; "He's gatherin' 'em up to make a crew."

There was a pause. Ikuto opened his mouth only to close it again, his thoughts jumbled. Suddenly, as the pirates cast each other nervous looks, the howl of the torrent outside became a terrible roar against the windows; the room was swept with an icy chill - numbing and bitter and unforgiving as though the rain and the gale and the winter frost had been cast up all at once and blown into the empty hall. Even the flames leapt precariously in the fireplace as the whistle of the wind echoed down the chimney breast. When no one else could find the words to speak, Amu shivered and shook her head slowly;

"N-No…" she uttered weakly. She had meant it to sound forceful, but it came out more like a feeble breath, laced with doubt, steeped in hesitation. "H-He can't be… He can't have enough men left for a crew, surely?" she exclaimed, whirling to face everyone else in turn as though hoping they would jump to her defence.

But no one did. Ikuto remained silent, looking lost and far away in thought. Utau bit her lip and began shifting restlessly on the spot. Apparently, she had no reason to disbelieve Yaya's claim because she immediately cursed; "That fiend!" she muttered lowly, her tongue dripping with venom; "That fiend..!"

"How many brutes does he have?" Kukai burst out of nowhere, looking utterly at a loss. Though no one else responded, Amu saw his panic reflected in the eyes of each of their companions. "I mean, the ol' Cap'n never kept it subtle!" he cried frantically; "He took off with a ship o' the line - His Maj'sty's first-rate! What if he comes back with a galleon or a man-o'-war bigger than the Shinin' Black? He'll need a hundred men! Blimey, if he's really got that many lackeys waitin' on-shore, he'll blow us out the water!"

"Calm down, Kukai!" Amu shushed, but it was too late. With that single admission, an unsettling dread had fallen upon them. It was clawing at their hearts; pooling in the pit of their stomachs; the sudden chill crawling like insects across their skin and Amu could see it in their faces - the fear; the alarm; the unspoken disquietude - for, after all they had been through, they all knew now that their former Captain was capable of things they had never foreseen. He was unpredictable; he was crafty and cunning and as callous as to be fit of a legendary pirates life, but above all he was as changeable and volatile as powder too close to a flame or else as turbulent as a sudden squall in uncharted seas. Their foe was as fickle as ever, but, more pressingly, it dawned upon them now that he was only growing in strength and, as much as Amu didn't wish to admit it, Kukai was right. Kazuomi would not settle for less than the Shining Black. If he truly was about to commandeer his own craft and make off into the blue, he would be seeking something more steadfast.

And yet, Amu found she did not share her companions' fear.

"But it doesn't matter," she muttered before she could stop herself. Her throat was dry and her fingers gripped numbly at the hem of her cloak, now wrapping herself up firmly as though it would shield her from the gathering storm, but she swallowed thickly and went on with as much determination as she could muster; "I don't care how many men Kazuomi may have - he's still as desperate as ever! If he really wanted to come after us, he'd have done so long ago, but it has been months!" At the uneasy glances thrown her way, she felt her resolve only strengthen. To her surprise, she found herself grinning deviously. "He's scared of us." Amu smirked. "He ran away like a good-for-nothing coward and left us all to die, but now he knows we're alive and yet... Still nothing! He took all his best men with him that night and now he knows that somewhere sails an entire crew of men who want to see him swing - who want revenge! Who want to see him keelhauled and marooned and left swaying in a rusty gibbet fit to feed the crows..!" And, with the dying light of the fire glowing like a glorious sunset upon her face, Amu lowered her voice to a hush - conspiratorial and defiant, yet it was like a beacon of hope in that dull, gloomy tavern that night. "I think that he knows." she said. "And I think he's afraid... Because he knows we're coming after him."

There was a second or so of quiet as the other pirates let the words sink in. Kukai's mouth was agape, his gaze cast blankly towards the fire as he tried to get his head around it all. Utau looked almost doubtful… But Ikuto grinned darkly and the sight lifted her heart; freed her spirit; ignited some newfound wild, devious delight within her soul as the smirk spread across his face; "Why else would he gather every man at his disposal unless he expected a struggle?"

"Let him find us if he wishes," Amu nodded. "I want to see the fear in his eyes."

Ikuto let out an almost sadistic chuckle. His eyes were sparkling as he inched closer to her, the blood growing once more hot within his veins. "Believe me, no amount of men will save him." He added, turning briefly to each of his crew and it soon grew apparent that his willpower was infectious - his resolve catching as one by one his courage was kindled in each of their hearts. "Whatever craft he's got his hands on we'll send straight down to the deep - we'll have her smoking as we did the Emerald Line!"

Ikuto's declaration was interrupted only by Yaya's murmurs of agreement, but was not long before his grin was mirrored on the faces of crewmates. The tension in the air lifted. He saw the glint in each of their eyes and it was daring. It was liberating. All of a sudden lifted from his former gloom, Kukai sprung back into life, clapped his hands and rolled up his sleeves and grinned mischievously; "I like the sound 'o that, Cap'n!" he exclaimed. "So, ya reckon we'll catch up with the bastard before he spies us?"

"Who gives a damn?" Utau piped up, sharing with him a devilish look. "Amu's right. I'll bet he's arming himself for defence - not for attack."

"Well, he can't outrun us forever," Ikuto said, looking thoroughly cocky and entirely triumphant even though they had barely begun their pursuit. No one pointed this out to him. On the contrary, his unbeaten attitude was shared by just about every one of them there that night. "We need to head back to the ship," he declared; "as soon as possible. Yaya, has any word reached you of Kazuomi's vessel? Does he have one already?"

Yaya shook her head. "Yaya doesn't know," she said lightly. "Yaya will send you any word she hears! She thought it best to warn ya'll!" Yaya added in, offering the sunniest of smiles. "Yaya didn't think it wise to relay the ol' Cap'n's plans over message. Yaya was afraid you'd think it a trap! But no matter... Ah, to hell with Yaya's landlord! Yaya'll fetch ya the finest rum in the house before ya hit the road!"

This news seemed to gladden Kukai in particular. Ikuto muttered a thanks, though he was admittedly too preoccupied in his own head with all this new information. Hell, even Amu perked up at the thought of some fiery draught to help her brace against the God-awful storm, but it was then - as the group gathered up their cloaks; as Ikuto drew Utau aside and began to whisper urgently about their next move; as Yaya hopped behind the bar and began rattling about with mugs and bottles and spirits of every kind - that they heard it…

Over the chinking of glasses, Amu just about noticed.

There was a light thud from the floor above their heads. A trickle of dust fell from the rafters. As it settled atop the bar, Yaya froze.

In a matter of moments, all hell broke loose.

An almighty 'BANG!' sounded from somewhere beyond the threshold - towards the back door from whence they'd come - and all of a sudden a bitter, piercing gust of ice-cold swept the drinking hall - a gale-force wind so fierce that the fire was almost completely wiped from existence. The few candles dotted about the walls were extinguished. The darkness crept in. They heard the patter of rain and the hiss of the wind and, as faint voices drifted through into the room, their hearts leapt.

Upstairs, a man was shouting;

"PIRATES! BUCCANS! SCOUNDRELS! SCOUNDRELS IN MY TAVERN! DOWNSTAIRS!"

At that moment a deafening rumble of thunder met their ears, all but drowning out the voice of the man above, fraught with panic, hysterical;

"PIRATES!"

From somewhere in the darkness, Yaya gasped aloud and dropped a mug. It exploded with an ear-splitting shatter at her feet. "Yaya's landlord!" she cried. "Yaya's landlord! He must've been droppin' eaves! Oh, Lord help us!"

"You landlord is here?" Utau exclaimed, her mouth hung open in disbelief.

"Yaya slipped a draught in his drink!" she defended. "He were s'pposed to be out cold 'til the mornin'! Oh, curse it all!"

"Leave it, Utau!" Ikuto hissed, throwing his cloak over his head, firmly grasping the hilt of his cutlass as they cowered beneath the din upstairs. He egan barking orders - told them to flee; to stick to the darkness; to make it back to the Shining Black heedless of who was behind them, for they could not afford to keep to such an obvious group - when there came a rattling from one of the back rooms and the sound of metal hitting stone and Ikuto stopped dead in his tracks. Suddenly that commotion made sense - explained the chill and the wind and the banging. Ikuto's blood ran cold.

The alarm had been raised. And now help had arrived.

Beyond the door, they heard men's voices. They were growing louder now, creeping closer - they had broken down the backdoor in an attempt to catch them unawares and now they were crashing through the kitchen, sending pots and pans and ceramic plates to the floor in a deafening racket. The pirates were snapped from their daze. They scarpered.

"Yaya!" Ikuto hissed; "The front! Quickly!"

She was scampering toward the entrance without question, pulling a loop of keys from the pocket beneath her apron, heart pounding as she led them down a short corridor.

"Fastest way to the docks?" Ikuto whispered frantically.

It took her a moment to answer. Yaya's face was pale. She was hurriedly fiddling with the lock, trying desperately with shaky hands to twist a key into the padlock hanging from the handle, but eventually she gasped; "S-Slip into the alleyway across the square..!" She was slipping out of concentration. As they stood close to the door itself, they still heard the landlord crying out into the night and they figured at once that me must have been leaning out an upstairs window, screaming into the streets, his voice echoing between the buildings. "Take a right an' follow the path you came!" Yaya told them. As she spoke, the padlock opened with a satisfying 'click!'. "It's safe enough! They'll all be in 'ere soon enough! Yaya will stall the men out back! They know Yaya! She'll try and send 'em off!"

"Be careful, Yaya. And thank you," Utau breathed. "Send us news whenever you can."

The young girl just nodded, still as white as a sheet, biting at her lip as the din behind them grew greater - the voices of many men echoing throughout the rafters as they tore through the ground rooms - Yaya grabbed the handle and stepped aside to let them pass…

Only… The moment the door was open, they were greeted by the piercing 'shing!' of swords.

"THEY'RE HERE!"

"ARM YOURSELVES!"

Neither Yaya nor Amu nor any of the pirates even knew what was happening until they found themselves faced down by no less than four rusty blades. There was a 'thunk!', a frantic scuffle against the floorboards and Utau was on the floor, her head spinning, a man standing over her with the most heavily-guarded sword Amu had ever seen held firm in his hand. It's brassy shine was mottled with blood. Kukai growled and drew his pistols to the man, but two more were behind him, each with a stained-looking sabre his chest and a blazing fire in their eyes. Amu yanked Yaya out of the path of a man with a long, curved dagger and drew her own only to find herself cornered by locals with nasty, pronged forks. She did a quick count as best she could in her befuddled head and realised that seven men had been waiting for them beside the entrance all along and now they were trapped, stunned still in confusion.

Time seemed to slow. The wind seemed to falter. Even the torrential wash of the rain on the road seemed to still as Amu and her companions found themselves facing down the furious eyes of the local men… In reality, she supposed that only a moment had passed - a mere second or so, for the men towards the back of the tavern had not appeared just yet and the men had barely moved… But it was all an illusion. In the back of her mind, she half-wondered how long the world might stop if given the chance…

And then Amu smelled powder.

There was a flash of fire; a billow of smoke; a blood-curdling yell and one of the men with the pitchforks was punched back into the wall beside her. Too stunned to scream, Amu watched in shock as the man slumped to the floor, his blood streaked across the plaster, a bullet hole smouldering in the back of his neck. The spell broken, the second man leapt on the spot and was almost instantly silenced. Two bullets burst through his shoulder - another tore through his chest - and, when he fell, Amu saw Ikuto standing with a smoking gun and a scalding ire the likes of which she had rarely seen flaring in the depths of his eyes. But there was no time for her to thank him.

Adrenaline surged through her veins. Amu gripped one of the forks. The man with the guarded sword piped up;

"Tsukiyomi! I-Ikuto Tsukiyomi! And Her High-AGH!"

But he staggered, falling to his knees - not dead, but bleeding profusely as Utau leapt to her feet, grabbing the hilt of her cutlass and slashing the back of his shoulder. The blade in his grip clattered uselessly to the floor and shone crimson as he fell with a thump beside it, run through, her heel on his back as she delivered her final blow. Immediately another came for her, but she cracked the guard of her weapon across his cheek and struck him whilst he was stunned before moving on and freeing Kukai from a deadly duel with two men who had seen fit to spring upon him both at once.

Behind her, Ikuto charged forward in a trail of smoke and with his cutlass attempted to strike down the next opponent - a man so muscled and bulky and so strikingly similar to one of Kazuomi's brutes that it was honestly quite repulsive - but was taken by surprise. The Captain found himself staggering against the wall, winded and bruised. His cutlass slipped from his grip and was lost to the shadows about them. The man was fighting with his bare fists, it seemed and his knuckles were red and raw, yet no less formidable (nor menacing) as he took yet another swing to Ikuto's gut. He dodged - as agile and fleet-footed as ever, almost thanking Kazuomi for his years of torment, for otherwise he'd never have had the practice to outmanoeuvre such a monster…

But it was not enough. Ikuto could do little more than flee. The man's eyes were gleaming. His teeth were bared. He was blundering away on some nonsensical, hate-filled and buccan-related tangent (or at least it sounded so) when, after a great deal of fumbling throughout the chaos, Amu at last found Ikuto's weapon in the darkness and with all her might took a blind swing in the thug's direction. She heard him hiss - just about saw the spark of fury in his beady eyes - and somewhere deep down she almost felt proud of herself for managing a hit. It was not lethal, but it was a hit nonetheless. After all, she had never fought with a sword in all her life! And yet here she was - her knuckles turning white around the hilt, her skin bristling as the man tried to throw a punch towards her. She took a shot at another swing, but her balance was off and her heart was pounding, the adrenaline making her stumble, and she managed little more than to dodge just in time as his fist flew past her face. To her right, she heard Ikuto cry her name. She could just about see him now - mere feet away on the other side of the corridor. The cutlass was growing heavy in her hand.

"Ikuto!" Amu called as she was forced to duck to her knees, for another man sprang from the darkness and tried to stick her through with a twisted blade. "Over here!" And she slid the cutlass across the floor, watching it's silver glint grow overwhelmed by the gloom as it skidded away from her. But her aim was true. She heard it thunk against his boot and, only seconds later, the entire floor reverberated as the tall, muscular man collapsed in a pool of blood.

"Ikuto!" Amu called as she was forced to duck to her knees, for another man sprang from the darkness and tried to stick her through with a twisted blade. "Over here!" And she slid the cutlass across the floor, watching it's silver glint grow overwhelmed by the gloom as it skidded away from her. But her aim was true. She heard it thunk against his boot and, only seconds later, the entire floor reverberated as the tall, muscular man collapsed in a pool of blood.

"Amu!" a voice called out, frantic and shaky, but it was not Ikuto this time. The princess felt gentle hands on her shoulders as she hauled herself to her feet. Yaya's eyes were wide and fearful. "There'll be more of 'em comin'! The square won't be safe! Yaya hears them!"

Amu opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. Through the open entrance, many lights were springing forth around the square outside - flaring into life in many windows - and she knew that Yaya was right. It was just like the last time, she thought with a shudder. She was almost grateful as she watched the girl slam it shut, blocking out the dreary sight. She looked back at the rest of her group. Ikuto, Utau and Kukai were all sweating, wiping their sullied blades on the back of the dead men. All seven lay face-down at their feet. They'd made short work of them.

There was still all manner of crashing and calamity resounding from back down the corridor and, by the intensity of their echoes, she guessed that the rest of their foes had made it into the drinking hall.

"It sounds… Sounds like there's too many," she breathed.

Utau and Kukai looked like they agreed, but said nothing. It seemed there was no alternative. With a deep, steadying breath, Ikuto reloaded his pistol.

"Let's get this over with." he said. He faced them; "To the ship!" he barked and there was a hard edge to his voice - a fearsome bite as cruel as the shine of his sword. It said 'fight or die'. And each of them knew it. They braced themselves.

Amu picked herself up and watched - half in horror, half in awe - as her three crewmates stormed past, weapons in hand, the determination set as in stone upon their features, rushing as a tirade upon their foes with the shine of steel in their eyes as swords clashed in the drinking hall, echoing throughout the building. There were no less than fifteen men in that hall and, from what Amu saw of that encounter, it could be said that not one of them was a worthy opponent. The majority of them were either drunk or otherwise too old or out of shape to put up any decent fight, though Amu wasn't quite sure what she'd expected. There was little military presence in this town. There was naught to call upon save any local folk who were still awake and, by the looks of it, most of them had just rolled over from the other watering holes across the street. Their swords, she realised, were not even of any worth. They looked to be decorative pieces - the kind of false grandeur one found hanging in the most ostentatious homes - and, as Ikuto disarmed a man with one such weapon, the blade snapped clean from the hilt and skidded uselessly beneath a table. The man was down within seconds.

"Ya Maj'sty!"

At Yaya's cry of alarm, Amu turned just in time to swerve from an oncoming blow. She and Yaya scowled fiercely at a young man who had just attempted to craftily sneak up on them, wielding a fire poke stolen from the hearth, brandishing it about dangerously in the dim light. Amu unsheathed the dagger from beneath her cloak with gritted teeth, though, honestly, she knew that it would be of little use. She would never get near him. The man swung again - a deadly, downward aim this time - and the force of the strike had the floorboards splintering between them. Amu brandished her puny dagger for what it was worth and glared at the man, standing her ground, yet still she couldn't help but pray for any sort of aid! Even a fallen weapon would do! One of those long, lookalike swords or another prong from the fire, but those that had fallen were out of reach and the brute was blocking her path to the fire grate and so she was stuck - utterly stuck with next to naught to defend herself!

Amu looked around frantically, taking the chance to survey her surroundings whilst she dodged another oncoming blow. Yaya was nowhere to be seen, but she could just about hear the girl's shrill voice echoing about the rafters. Over on the opposite side of the room, Utau was locked in a fistfight with an scrawny fellow who was probably barely of age. With remarkable skill and ferocity she threw a fist at his eye and kicked his legs from beneath him whilst he was still recoiling from the strike. She stuck him on the end of her sword with little effort before taking on a thug who had tried to sneak up on her brother. Ikuto threw her a hasty thanks and tried to deflect another's cutlass, but the two were equally matched and through the clash of swords and cries of strength, Amu heard him curse.

Thankfully, the princess was not the only one watching. Whilst she desperately tried to knock her opponent's weapon away with her feeble knife, Kukai drew his bloody dagger from the back of one of the locals and reached for his two pistols; "Ikuto, watch'a!"

Ikuto ducked on instinct and leapt out of the line of fire. His opponent whirled, stunned and struck with horror at the sight of the barrels. Behind the bar, Yaya crouched in a ball on the floor and covered her ears. Utau dove to the left and shoved another man in the firing line with an ear-splitting cry of "Fire!" when-

There was a cough. A splutter. The room suddenly seemed very quiet. The double-click of Kukai's twin pistols could be heard even to Amu on the opposite side of the room.

Nothing happened.

Kukai's jaw dropped open; "Wha-?"

Only to be interrupted by a cry of pain and a sudden 'BANG!' as Ikuto's pistols lit up yet again. His expression was furious, his lips curled in disdain as he sent the man he'd been grappling with flying across one of the tables. Kukai was still staring at his weapons in disbelief as his Captain faced another foe. "What did I tell you?" he threw over his shoulder, his voice thick with effort as he clashed cutlasses yet again. "Your powder's wet!"

The young pirate's heart dropped like a weight. "Fuck!" he threw his useless pistols across the room in fury and, quite by accident, managed to clock a slow-witted (and probably drunk) man on the head. The man stumbled and hit his forehead on the side of a table. He fell to the ground unconscious. Kukai laughed aloud. "One down!" he proclaimed and, twirling his cutlass leisurely - as though he were taking a mere stroll in the park rather than fighting for his freedom - he cut down Ikuto's opponent himself. "Need a hand?"

Ikuto scowled, but the two were undeniably efficient as they went about their onslaught, tearing through the few remaining men as a tidal wave upon the town. Amu saw Utau sprint to join them, for they were up against the last remaining locals, and almost wanted to protest. She was still proving utterly futile against her rival! She, at this point, almost angry with herself for not deciding to procure a cutlass before she left the ship. At the time, she reasoned, it would have been useless as she'd had no training with such a weapon, but, God, the princess was just about ready to beg for the chance to lay her hands on a nice, shiny saber! Tired and absolutely sick to death of this nonsense, Amu lunged and for the first time managed to slash the man with the firepoke. It was only on the forearm and she very nearly got concussion for her troubles, but it was worth it. She lunged again - and again! - trying desperately to find a fatal spot to stick her blade when-

"Ya Maj'sty-!"

Yaya's voice resounded about the hall. Amu saw a blur as the girl passed by the fire. There was a 'THUNK!' and the sound of ringing metal and, before the princess could so much as blink, the man before her fell to the floor, his face frozen in the most startled expression she'd ever seen.

When Amu looked up, Yaya was standing triumphantly over the man with an iron shovel in her hands. The metal was smouldering, still glowing orange from it's place in the fire.

She breathed, almost laughing in relief; "Amazing…"

"Indeed," Utau's voice said breathlessly behind her. The women turned and found their three compatriots stood amidst the scene of a gory battle. Their clothes were stained. The floor was slick and shining like crimson gemstones under firelight, littered with bodies, their eyes unseeing and skin cold. The pirates had been victorious. Kukai was bent over on his knees, panting, but looking utterly relieved. Ikuto was wiping his cutlass on the back of a man's coat and sheathing it carefully beneath his cloak. He wasted no time;

"To the ship." he said. "Before we're found again."

They obeyed wordlessly, regrouping and sprinting to the back exit - and not a moment too soon, for just as they passed through the kitchen they heard heavy fists banging on the front door. Men were shouting; the walls were shaking; there was another, groundbreaking 'BAM!' and the entire building groaned like a beaten sloop in a gale. They would break the lock, Amu realised with a sickening sense of déjà-vu. The townsfolk were coming. Kukai clapped his hands together and practically pulled the back door from its frame. "Time to go!"

"Oh, take care!" Yaya pleaded. "Oh, what a night! O'!"

One by one, they filed out into the dreary night, casting anxious looks back over their shoulders, hands on their hilts and poised to pounce upon any danger when Yaya began to sob;

"Yaya to be caught coercin' with pirates!" she squealed. "The ol' landlord'll throw a fit! A crowd o' boisterous buccaneers in his establishment! He wouldn't stand for it!"

Amu felt a pang of guilt. Utau was already feet ahead and hissing for them to follow. But, loud and carefree, Kukai just laughed. "Looks like you're out of a job!" he exclaimed, ignoring her wails of agreement. But there was no time to waste. At that very moment, thunder sounded overhead; a bolt of lightning lit up the alley and the square beyond where many torches were gathering - many people chanting and jeering; the cries of the landlord could still be heard way up above their heads as he hollered out his bedroom window screaming about pirates and murders and thieves… And, amidst the chaos, Kukai grabbed her hand. He beamed;

"Ya oughta tag along for the journey!"

And, without even awaiting her response, he dragged her off the back porch and the five of them vanished into the night.

~.~.~

A/N: I'm finally back and Yaya's finally here! Honestly, I didn't really like her that much, but she's grown on me since writing this. I hope you're pleased to have her on board.

Plus, as always, my apologies for falling behind (again!). I thought I'd make this one a long chapter to try and make up for it… But I may have overdone it just a bit. Tbh I had no idea how wild this month was gonna be irl. I've sorta left my education to self-study and now I've gotta try and keep on top of everything. I'm surrounded by textbooks. Send help.

Anyway, thank you for reading and let me know what you thought! Until the next update ^^