The Betrayed Marionette

~.~.~

The fall of Tadase's staff was utterly deafening - like thunderclaps and cannonfire, echoing against the walls with every furious step. His cane was a calamity; he swept as a coming storm; the flames shook in the candelabras with the swish of his cape until one by one they fluttered out of existence and all was cold; all was dim; all was utterly devoid of cheer on this empty night.

Though, the Commander mused as he powered along the passageways, it had been this way for longer than he cared to remember. These were empty halls. Silent halls. Halls once vibrant and glowing and warm now drained of life - shaded and sullen. This place (this home) once so grand and gilded and lavishly dressed now lay bare and drab before him - a mere shadow of its former glory… And Tadase almost blamed himself, for as he passed beneath one of the sweeping, marble staircases he saw a shivering young maid cower in his wake. A bitter pang of resentment stirred in his heart. He grimaced, his expression souring as though that deplorable stir had tainted his tongue.

Had he been any calmer that night, he might have loathed what he'd become. Had he been any less wrapped up in his own head - any less ensnared in this entire, exhausting ordeal - he might have stopped to grieve, for there was no one left to witness his lament that night.

Tadase shook the notion off.

He carried on. Soon he could no longer hear the racket of his staff on the floor, growing utterly blind to all save the warring of thoughts in his head. Only days ago word had reached the Hotori home that black sails had been sighted in Seiyo's waters - towards the north, just leagues away from a string of desolate, near-deserted dockside towns… Only stories of black sails on distant waters was not enough. As far as he had heard, no witnesses had reported acts of piracy. No raids; no stolen ships; no gunfire - nothing! Tadase cursed the cowardice of the townsfolk. Had they not been so bent on cowering in the shadows, they might have had something worthy to report, but no… Black sails or not, they could not say whether or not the white diamond had visited their town that night.

Entering his study and heastily lighting a lamp on his desk, Tadase fell back into his chair, gratefully setting his staff aside. There were plenty of new documents littered before him - many all made in preparation for new additions to his fleet. It was only a matter of time before he joined the hunt at sea himself, but, for now, he would arrange for several new schooners to set sail within the week.

Rifling idly through the documents, Tadase quickly came to a small mountain of papers piled neatly to the side. He paused. Slowly, a look of disdain spread across his features. He pushed them away tentatively, as one might make to push unwelcome thoughts to the back of the mind, but the Commander knew that it was only a matter of time until he was forced to deal with them. Tadase had been somewhat reluctant to distribute his 'older brother's' posters during these past few months (for whatever reason he couldn't fathom), yet it didn't matter now, for, in his rage, he just knew that soon there would be one on every door; in every shop; every tavern and Ikuto Tsukiyomi's name would spread like wildfire, his image growing blurred, melting into legend beside Her Highness herself and his fate would forever be sealed. In days to come, songs would be sung of him. Tales would be told. Stories would be spread. Even as Tadase stalked his lifeless halls in the dead of night, wandering aimlessly unto the dawn, he heard his servants whisper amongst themselves, throwing about wild theories; sharing rumours; laughing and tittering in little groups and fantasising of runaway royals and faraway shores beneath the tropical sun…

When he thought about it now, Tadase realised he might have forbidden such romantic fiction to be shared in his halls, but he could not bring himself to do it.

It may have been mere fiction… But it was all he ever heard of her anymore.

Tadase hadn't realise how immersed in thought he had been until the tapping on the door drew him from his reverie. When he finally raised his head, Rima stood in the shadow of the hallway, fiddling absently with a scroll in her hand.

"Commander." she said as a way of greeting and, when he didn't respond, she proffered the scroll to him. It was fresh - the ink only recently dried - and its crimson seal shone like blood in the candlelight. "The Shining Black, sir-" (Tadase almost tore the note from her hand.); "-she was sighted only last night - not three hours' journey south."

He barely noticed the way her voice wavered towards the end of her sentence, so engrossed in studying the delicate scrawl in the light of the lamp. Rima watched, her breath held, biting the edge of her lip…

And then Tadase breathed slowly. Rima saw his entire body soften - saw the tension leave his frame; she watched his ire quell as a snuffed-out flame; she caught the devastated shimmer in his eyes.

But then he stood. A spark seemed to flare renewed in ruby orbs. Tadase's expression hardened as a newly-forged blade.

"Excellent."

~.~.~

As it turned out, Yaya was a better hand on-board the Shining Black than anyone could have ever asked for.

To Ikuto's utter surprise (or sheer delight - he couldn't tell which) it turned out that the girl was perhaps the pluckiest, most daring soul that they'd ever welcomed into their crew to date, for her energy was relentless - like a never-ending well of cheer and enthusiasm shining on throughout the night. Her spirit was resilient against the brunt of the tide, her smile never faltering and with a spring in her step and a beam on her face she had worked the rope and line with all the agility and skill of a hardened sailor as they made good their escape that night - fading into the darkness and fleeing once more out across the empty sea.

In fact, where most of Ikuto's men had flagged late towards the morning (and, really, he couldn't blame them - they'd worked long and hard through most of the day with little rest, after all) Yaya simply flourished. One would never have believed that this was was her first voyage. She was the sole one amongst them who remained when the sun rose red over the waves beyond, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, looking just as chipper as she had in the very beginning and so it was fair to say that the men of the Shining Black were at once in awe of her ceaseless optimism. She bounced from line to capstan; she weaved like a vine through the spars; and to every man she offered such a childish sort of grin as she went about her work that it was impossible not to feel a little lift in heart in return. And it was a good thing too because their flight from the mainland had been so narrow - the fury of the fire licking so hot on their heels - that many of Ikuto's men were left either thoroughly exhausted or thoroughly unnerved.

Ikuto and his little group had returned to the seafront the night before, fleeing through the rain and leaving the now-devastated tavern behind them, to find the Shining Black drifting almost outside the bay and a small handful of the crew awaiting them with rowboats, their eyes wide and terrified, their swords stained crimson and the bodies of local men at their feet. Apparently some of the townsfolk that night had ventured down to defend their dock upon hearing that there were buccans on the prowl. Needless to say, their attempts in battle had been futile and, though the pirate's hearts were grieved to witness the deaths of innocent men, they were all face-down along the quay by the time that black-sailed ship slipped beyond the horizon and vanished once more into the gloom.

And so, quite simply, Yaya's positivity was truly a blessing.

Presently, Ikuto stood beside the helmsman on the quarterdeck, his eyes fixed upon the line of the sea. Above their heads the clouds were growing thinner and the faint shimmer of starlight was just beginning to pierce through the darkness. Night was falling. The waves were hushed and subdued. The crew had just swapped shifts and those who were now relieved of duty lingered on-deck, sitting beneath the warmth of the lantern lights and passing tankards of liquor between themselves. The quiet was shattered by the sound of their laughter. Snippets of song carried gently along the breeze.

The mood was lighter tonight - the danger had passed; the sea had settled; they were once more unbound and free to drift at leisure off across the water and, above all, news of progress in their pursuit of the old Captain had lifted their spirits even more than rest or rum or Yaya's ceaseless energy combined. Even Ikuto could not keep a triumphant smirk from his face as he took up his compass and shifted his gaze towards the sky, sending up a silent prayer to whatever stars might guide them along their course. Having worked throughout the day to put considerable distance between their ship and the King's waters, they were now heading out into open ocean. The sight of miles upon miles of empty sea was truly liberating.

"Alone at last, are we?"

Ikuto glanced aside only briefly as Utau ambled up the companionway and leant along the rail beside him. She scoped her eyes over the horizon. Several times that day they had seen the tell-tale, cloud-like billows of white sail in the distance and had been forced to hastily change direction, but, thankfully, the Captain had the sneaking suspicion that these far-off crafts were little more than merchant ships, for their masts were tiny and few in number even at a distance. Still, it had been an unwelcome sight and Utau had grown visibly anxious.

"I defy any ship to spy us now," Ikuto replied, sounding far more confident than he felt if only for his sister's sake. "Stay clear of the usual trade rounds and we'll be lucky until morning, at least."

Utau appeared somewhat satisfied. Or, at least, she finally stopped scrutinising the skyline and turned back to her brother. "Any orders before I take lead for the night?"

Ikuto hesitated. At times the notion of giving orders at all was still strange to him. At times, he often wondered whether or not he ought to have handed his position straight over to Utau. After all, she had managed the Shining Black exceptionally in those few days after Kazuomi's departure and she was an absolutely remarkable match for quartermaster, but, as reluctantly as he had to admit it, a Captain couldn't choose his crew. Rather, it was up to the crew to choose their Captain and, after all these men had been through, he'd be damned if he was going to let them down.

"Have Yaya put up in a cabin down below." Ikuto said finally, shaking those former thoughts away. "I've a good mind to put her up in the galley."

"Oh?" Utau hummed. "On account of her service at the inn?"

He hummed in agreement. "We've not had a decent cook on-board since we were children." he mused, handing the spyglass over to the helmsman and heading towards the companionway. "Whatever happened to him? I don't recall the man's name."

Utau gave a dry chuckle, devoid of mirth, and followed him down the steps. "Marooned? Deposed? Disappeared in the dead of night in the stead of our Captain? Who knows. Either way, let's hope Yaya's at home in the galley. Frankly, I wouldn't know where else to put her."

"Well, she'd better be," he uttered drily. "Let's hope she can make a banquet out of hardtack and old cheese…" And he sighed, coming at last to the aftercastle. Ikuto stopped in his tracks, his gaze travelling briefly over his crew. They were stood in the shadow of the upper decks, side by side against the entrance to the upper cabins and all around them lantern lights glowed and twinkled like fireflies of a summer night. The men's faces glowed gold in the dark; their eyes shining like paper lanterns; their laughter echoing about the empty night... But, despite the merry atmosphere, the Captain felt some great unrest stir in the pit of his stomach.

They'd been so uplifted at the thought of progress, yet Ikuto still couldn't guess just how far they'd yet to go.

He shook the thought off as quickly as it came. Utau was still beside him, her brows narrowing slightly at his silence. Ikuto tried his best to appear nonchalant. If he was going to distress over the task before him, he thought, then it was best he do it in his own cabin.

"I'll interrogate Yaya in the morning," he told his sister, perhaps louder than intended as he tried in vain to shake the discord in his heart; "If she was really as intertwined in Kazuomi's business as she'd have us believe, then perhaps she can shed light on our 'mystery map'. He would have wanted his henchmen to know in case he had to call on them… "

At this, Utau's eyes gleamed - shining with that sneaky sort of spark her brother used so often. "So…" she practically purred; "my contacts with Yaya proved to be most useful, did they not, dear brother?"

Ikuto rolled his eyes, but his lips were twitching. "Quite the cocky one tonight, aren't we, sister?" he drawled. "But don't get your hopes up just yet. If Yaya doesn't recognise those islands, I don't know what we'll do."

And, upon those words, the atmosphere almost changed. A chill sea breeze swept across the aftercastle, making the little lamps and oil fires shudder and sway, flickering dangerously in the darkness. Utau huffed;

"You'll meet an early grave, Ikuto." she scoffed. And, when Ikuto shot her a bemused expression, she rolled her eyes, her tone softening; "When was the last time you slept?"

Ikuto opened his mouth to throw back some cutting, witty remark, but, really, he found none. All of a sudden his jovial attitude was smothered like the shaking candles all around them - foundering as a flame quenched by the sea. Quite frankly, he was more perturbed by the fact that she'd read him so easily rather than the fact she was right. Honestly, he couldn't even remember his last decent rest and he was sure Utau noticed the doubt that passed over his face because she sighed, shaking her head, her pigtails dancing like platinum thread in the moonlight.

"I'll see our new crewmate to her cabin." she resigned. "And I'll take the midnight watch."

And, with that, she was off, muttering beneath her breath as she sought out the nearest hatchway in the darkness. Ikuto watched her until the last, staring off into the night long after the last silver of blonde and lilac had descended down into the depths of the hold.

Exhausted and suddenly quite agitated, Ikuto ran a hand through his hair. The firelight still danced around him.

~.~.~

The lower decks of the Shining Black were, upon nightfall, absolutely sinister. Down here - out of reach from the light of day - it was sometimes said among the crew that foul things lurked in the shadows. The darkness was overpowering, they said. Things dwelt there, they whispered. The creaks and groans of the great frigate as she plowed across the waters' surface they said was the unrest of some unearthly, unholy creature slipping between the decks, watching from the darkness, settling into shadowy corners and hiding under hammocks.

But Utau had learnt long ago that these stories - these eerie tales that once had plagued her dreams - were, at first, more than likely fabricated by the real malice that captained the Shining Black long ago. They were just that - tales and nothing more. They were bedtime horrors designed to haunt her and any other new, young recruits when they were first frogmarched into joining the crew.

She remembered what her brother had said when she had been still young enough to fear the mythical monsters that crept down here in the dark. If anything truly lay hidden down here, he had said, then they were anything but supernatural. No, rather they were living things - living men - for even all those years ago their stepfather had eyes and ears all over his ship and so Utau was still somewhat wary, shaking off imaginary stares, as she descended down, down, down into the darkness, constantly feeling for obstacles shrouded beyond the reach of the lantern light, tripping and stumbling and cursing as her feet caught incessantly on uneven floorboards until;

"And so..!"

The blonde paused, the hairs on the back of her neck standing as the whispers echoed about the hold. Instinctively she looked to the shadows, her hand flying to the butt of her pistol, when the voice continued.

"Under the dead o' night, the ol' Lord an' his fleet set sail across the east, they did, followin' the trail 'o the ghanjah. Eighty cannons, she had, an' a four hundred armed guard! O' course, there were passengers aboard - near twice as many as the guard, 'tis said - but few were left to tell the tale after the ol' Lord was done with 'em…"

Utau almost smiled to herself then, the tension disappearing, the air clearing as that voice met her ears. Of course she'd hear them before she saw them, she thought as she reached the lowest deck. How typical! Treading as carefully as she could, she quietly picked her way through the gloom, keenly listening;

"One by one they took out the ghanjah's escort an' once red an' blindin' the sun rose in the morn, off their cannon's went! BOOM! Off an' over the horizon! Boom, BOOM-! The ol' Lord's cannons went up first! He struck their mainmast straight away an' all through the followin' day his fleet struck the treasure-carrier 'til her decks were black an' crimson an' bombarded for all it's worth! And, now boarding, the Cap'n swung across the ratlines an' onto the ship an' he and all his men rounded up the crew an' tortured 'em until they gave up every scrap o' gold they could find!"

Faintly, Utau heard a hushed sort of gasp - a sound of absolute awe - and, as she rounded the final corner en route, she was greeted by the glow of golden candlelight and her heart was warmed at the sight of their newest crew member and Her Highness sat together in the galley, completely oblivious to the blonde as she inched in through the doorway. Yaya was practically stood, her eyes gleaming conspiratorially as she weaved such wondrous tales. Across from her Amu was sat, her hair glowing like a soft halo about her as she listened, captivated;

"An' now they say," Yaya continued, her voice dropping to a whisper - low and hushed as though she was sharing something extraordinarily secret; "even now 'tis told that the trail to the east is littered with ill-gotten gold; that when the wind blows an' catched in a ship's sails, it echoes with the cries of tortured souls… And they say, most of all, that somewhere out there lies the last remnants o' the ol' pirate Lord's Great Treasure…"

And, barely able to contain herself, Utau laughed aloud and immediately the atmosphere was shattered. Yaya squeaked and clamped a hand over her mouth. Amu, who had been faintly forgetting that her jaw was inching closer to the table; jumped about a foot in her seat and straightened up, her cheeks flushing;

"U-Utau-!"

"My, my," Utau began, smiling somewhat fondly as she entered the galley and approached the table. "That's an old tale if ever I've heard one." And, lazily, she plonked herself down into an empty chair. "Not to mention highly overrated."

Amu was still positively pink in the face at this, for she had been so absorbed that she'd barely noticed their quartermaster peering in on them. She'd always been a sucker for a good story - always jumping on-board like a little kid at bedtime - and, somewhat humiliated at the thought, she slunk back in her chair.

Yaya, on the other hand, just huffed. "Hey now!" she whined, puffing out her rosy cheeks like a child. "The pirate Lord's gold is as good a tale as any! Yaya used to tell it to the little'uns down by the dockside."

Utau smiled faintly, but shook her head. She brushed one long, pigtail away from her face and sighed. "It is also, quite unfortunately, the reason we are all here." And she added, somewhat irritably; "Forgive me if I've tired of hearing it."

"But that's what makes it so interestin'!" Yaya protested, leaning across the table again. "Without the ol' pirate Lord an' his fortune, the ol' King would'a never gotten his treasure!" she exclaimed. "An' without the treasure there's never 'ave been the Lock an' Key! An' without the Lock an' Key-!"

"Yes, yes, yes," Utau waved a hand in dismissal, grimacing slightly. "Without the Humpty Lock and Dumpty Key, the three of us wouldn't be sat here, cast adrift on this bloody boat and wallowing in the wake of Kazuomi Ichinomiya's devilry. Need I go on?"

Yaya just shrugged, utterly indifferent, but Amu looked down almost guiltily. "Ah, I'm sorry, Utau," she said, fiddling absently with the stomacher of her bodice as she spoke; "but no one's ever told me the story in full before! I mean, Ikuto told me a long time ago about this 'Great', grandiose treasure that Kazuomi was after, but I didn't ask him to go into detail. It sounded make-believe!"

Utau chuckled drily. "And therein lies the issue." she muttered sarcastically. "The Lock and Key might well exist, but, if you ask me, this whole treasure is nothing more than a myth. And yet here we are - suffering because of it." Utau's expression was suddenly bitter, her brows furrowed and arms folded. Amu visibly cringed.

Yaya, however, was absolutely unfazed. "Well," she piped up cheerfully; "if ya ask Yaya, a story's gotta come from somewhere! 'Sides, Yaya's a fantastic storyteller!" she exclaimed, beaming with pride. She went over to a nearby cupboard, fishing out a dusty, age-old bottle of wine and expertly uncorked it between her teeth. "Yaya's got all night!" she went on, beginning to pour out three glasses on the counter. "Anythin' else Ya Maj'sty wants to hear? Yaya's heard 'em all! She can tell ya some stories about the royal lineage if it suits ya fancy!"

Amu laughed somewhat weakly, glancing nervously at their quartermaster as Yaya slid a half-glass of dry wine towards her. She peered with distrust into the murky liquid. This girl suited bar work down to the ground, she thought. She could only imagine just how many long nights Yaya had spent leant eagerly over the bar, regaling her customers with intricate, seamlessly interwoven tales, animatedly babbling on about forgotten isles and pirate gold and maritime heists whilst the drinks went untouched and the fire crackled in the hearth until the wee small hours of the morning.

Although, Amu would have been more inclined to play along had the wine been any better. It was possibly the nastiest stuff she'd ever tasted, but Utau almost looked impressed at Yaya's attitude. She raised her glass to the light, smirking as the barmaid filled her own, and Amu watched in mild horror as she (amazingly) drained the glass in one.

"Well," Utau slowly rose from her seat and gestured vaguely about the galley; "I don't know about stories, but it looks like this is your domain now." she said. "My brother's decided that you should be best suited to work down here. That means divvying up rations accordingly and having them readied three times a day. Although, I admit, we've not much left for you to work with." And she cast a distasteful glance at the rows of cupboards and counters behind them - many of which had been left open, their doors hanging half off the hinges, revealing little more than empty, dust-ridden shelves. Even the familiar barrels which only weeks ago had held countless ripe fruits were left barren, rolling languidly on their sides with the gentle rise and fall of the great frigate.

In honesty, Amu thought that she would have been appalled to be set to work down here when she first joined the crew. The air was thick and stifling, dust hanging like a shroud in the air, and there was absolutely no source of light save for the candles and little oil lamps dotted about the counters. She'd have gone mad confined to the belly of the ship for so long - especially cut off from the light of day - but, thankfully, Yaya's smile only widened. Her eyes glittered like little gemstones. Utau took this as a positive sign.

"You think you can manage?" she asked.

"Oh, o' course!" Yaya nodded so fiercely that it was a wonder she didn't injure herself. "It'd be a sin for Yaya not to know her way 'round a kitchen by now! O, Yaya'll have to thank the Cap'n - if she can get him, that is."

At this Utau let out a sound halfway between a scoff and a dry sort of laugh. Amu raised an eyebrow questioningly. The blonde shook her head; "I wouldn't dream of it," she said; "not 'til morning, anyway. I've relieved him of duty. Quite forcibly too - I haven't seen him so much as sit in two days."

"Hell…" Yaya muttered, clamping her hands over her mouth. "Yaya hopes she hasn't caused the Cap'n too much trouble!"

Utau shook her head. "No," she began wearily; "I admit that none of us have rested as we should since we started this whole endeavour. My dear 'stepfather' had proved himself far more cunning than first we thought." And she wrinkled her nose in disgust; "We've been tied up trying to put together the pieces of the puzzles he left behind."

There was a silence after that - unsettling and tense, as stifling as the dust that lingered in the air - as Yaya peered curiously between them. Utau had hushed, leant against the table, her gaze slowly drifting over to the princess. Amu could feel her eyes boring into her head, but she firmly ignored it. All of a sudden her jovial mood was gone; her thoughts were stirred; there was a disquiet between them as they sat in silence. Beneath them, the shadows emitted low, echoing groans as far above the ship graced over the waves.

When Amu looked up, Utau's eyes were still on her... And, somehow, she thought she understood her. Her thoughts were suddenly bright alive with cobalt blue.

But, all too quickly, Utau snapped out of it. "Well," she said, turning back to Yaya as if nothing had happened; "I don't doubt that Ikuto will want to talk with you about these 'puzzles' anyway. Amongst other things, we've come into possession of a map that we believe may be used to track our old Captain down. As somewhat of an informant, we've wondered if you-"

Yaya gasped aloud; "No way!" she burst all of a sudden. She stood, her hands planted firmly on the table, her eyes wide - so impossibly wide that Amu wondered if they'd fall right from her face. "Y'all have gotten ya hands on one o' the Cap'n's maps?" she exclaimed. Her mouth fell open, but she quickly shut it. She breathed, apparently trying desperately to maintain her composure, but Amu could see that it was a futile sort of calm - that she was apparently so overwhelmed that she could barely stand to contain it. She saw that Yaya's lips were twitching; saw her knuckles tremble; she watched as her eyes sparkled;

"That's amazin'!" the young girl cried. "Yaya's never seen one o' the ol' Cap'n's maps before! Well, not in full, that's sure enough! Maybe a scrap or two here an' there, but-"

"You understand them?" Utau asked in awe. She sounded unusually breathless.

"O' course Yaya does." Yaya shrugged lightly. "Yaya's the spy, remember?"

Taken aback, the other two women fell into a moment of silence. Amu and Utau shared a particularly astonished look and, again, Amu could practically sense that her thoughts mirrored her own.

"Can you read them?" Amu cut in urgently, leaning across the table. An unexpected burst of hope sprang from somewhere in her chest, but she couldn't bear to entertain it - not now, not when all was still so uncertain. "I-I mean, it's-it's not easy," she said. "But they just might be the key to finding out where the old Captain's fled and-"

"Yaya can try!" she said cheerfully. "Don't worry about that Ya Maj'sty! Yaya'll give it a good damn try if she can take a look at 'em."

At a loss for words, Amu looked back pleadingly at the blonde beside her. But, though she looked about ready to dance for joy, Amu watched as Utau closed her eyes, took a breath and swallowed thickly, her composure returning. "Come on," she began, though it sounded restrained. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'll show you to your cabin, Yaya. We can discuss this tomorrow with the Captain."

Yaya hurriedly downed the last of her wine and dumped their empty glasses back in the cupboard. "Absolutely, Uta-ta!"

"Call me 'Uta-ta' again and I'll throw you overboard."

"Absolutely, Utau!"

And, just like that, the two of them were drifting back out into the darkness of the hold, but, just when Amu thought they were about to disappear into the shadows, a shimmer of lilac caught her eye. Utau was hesitating in the doorway, her lips pursed in a little white line.

"Utau?"

A pause. A flicker of candle flame. Utau's eyes fell on hers and, just as before, Amu's mind became awash with darkest blue-

Utau heaved a sigh. "Never mind."

And, before Amu even had a chance to catch up, she was gone.

~.~.~

Nearly an hour later - when the night had fully fallen upon the world and the Shining Black finally felt the weight of slumber - Amu tip-toed quietly down the corridor, feeling her way through the dim light and hitching up her dress to muffle the persistent rustling of her skirt. She glanced behind her. Through the thick glass of the doors behind her she could faintly see the bright white pinpricks of gently twinkling stars and the soft glow of the ship's lanterns, though few were awake to see them. It was almost midnight by now and the majority of the crew had finally retired to their quarters for the night. Amu was acutely aware as she passed her cabin that she too should be thinking of giving in to the oncoming wave of exhaustion, for she had been up at first light and had helped work the ship through their hasty retreat…

But, as Amu passed her cabin by, she was also aware that she would be absolutely unable to rest for even a moment without first stopping by her Captain's door.

Ikuto's cabin was no longer kept out of reach - the doors no longer barred by locks and chains as they once had been, but, on dark nights like these, Amu still felt just a little apprehensive as she stood beneath their shadow.

A minute or so passed. The doors at the other end of the corridor groaned loudly as the frame shifted and settled. A draught scuttled across the floor and, finally - timidly - Amu rapped her knuckles against the door.

"Ikuto?"

But, though she waited, there was no reply save for the sigh of the ship and the creaking of floorboards as she nervously shifted on the spot. A few seconds ticked by. The stern of the ship dipped just noticeably as the bow hit the crest of an oncoming wave and, before her eyes, one of the doors shifted, drifting open with gravity as the Shining Black levelled and continued on its languid pace. Taking this as some sort of invitation, Amu swallowed her nerved, gripped the handle firmly, and crept inside.

"Ikuto?"

The inside of the Captain's cabin was dim and her quiet voice echoed endlessly against the walls. Stepping at last over the threshold, Amu almost cowered. Shadows and silhouettes loomed from the dark so suddenly that she slunk back, taken unawares, before realising that they were merely pieces of furniture and that the candles on the desk had long since died, overwhelming the room in a gloomy veil, making the wood stand stark even against the darkness. She breathed a gentle sigh of relief. At times she almost forgot that this cabin was a place to fear no longer. She sometimes forgot that, should she end up entering, she would no longer find all that dust and grime; wouldn't be struck by tension; that she would no more feel the ominous presence of its former Captain as she tip-toed over the floorboards, looking over her shoulder, straining her sight in the dark as though the walls themselves had peering eyes - as if there were still unsightly things lurking deep within the shadows.

Amu shivered, though there was no draught, and quickly lit a lamp on the desk. It wouldn't last long - all around her sat stumps of candles nearly burnt straight through - but that little flicker of warm light was enough to soothe her senses. Relieved, she turned to find that the shadows were gone; the air was clear; and all that had lingered, she resolved, was nothing but a remnant of unwelcome memories. The candlelight shuddered and swayed about the top of the desk. Free from years of dirt and decay, it shone - polished as it had never been before. Amu ran her fingers over it absently, her fingertips tickling the dry, deckle-edged edges of old sea-charts, but the map was not there. The map. The one that she had seen her Captain lay awake over; that had kept he and Utau locked away in this very cabin for days on end; the very same one that still remained riddled with questions and symbols and undiscovered isles until the seas all merged into one - shifting and swirling until they were naught but a crippling, confusing, persistent headache.

In a way, Amu was glad that Kazuomi's map was not there for her to see. As much as she might have wanted to finally crack those codes - to feel the rush of victory and relish in the wind in their sails as they journeyed towards the old Captain's end - she did not want to walk in on Ikuto whilst he was still pouring over them. Not when she still had such haunting memories of that one other who had brooded in here - wallowing in the well of his own, bitter malevolence for so, so long…

"Damn," Amu whispered to herself, forcing herself back to the present and glancing about the room. She sighed aloud to herself. Truthfully, even if Ikuto had been brooding in here, she had been hoping to find him before leaving him be for the night. Of course, she had meant to make it quick. He had barely relaxed for even a moment whilst they were still sailing into open sea and, well, if Utau was concerned…

The former princess shook her head, absently straightening out the sea charts on the desk and moving them away from the candlelight. She had the nagging suspicion that, even if he were here, Ikuto was likely to stay awake anyway, studying until the small hours of the morning - kept awake by whatever riddles still ran riot in his head. Something uneasy overcame her then. Something was tugging at the strings of her heart. Reluctantly, she walked away, not bothering to extinguish the little candle behind her. With one last look at the empty cabin, Amu pulled the door to behind her and, wringing her hands together restlessly, she retired for the night, resigning to rise earlier the next day and catch her Captain when he headed out on-deck. At least then she could join Yaya in the galley afterwards, she reasoned as she wandered down the corridor and into her cabin. Their new cook would be wide awake and buzzing with excitement for her first day on the job and, honestly, it sounded like just the thing to help shrug the sleep from her head.

Quietly, Amu chuckled to herself. It was amazing how accustomed she was to the ship's routine. When first she'd found herself in this tiny cabin - alone and afraid and so suddenly torn from all she knew - the thought of ever giving in to the buccan way of life was unthinkable! It was amazing, she thought, how she could feel so at home in her tiny cabin now. It was astounding, now that she was used to it, how utterly her outlook on this world had shifted. She and Tadase had, in their youth, joked many times about the habits of corsairs. She had grown up with the notion that these men were nothing but boat-loads of ravenous hounds - dastardly dogs that flitted about with no real purpose, barely caring for the carnage in their wake - but this… This place had stumped her. The men of the Shining Black were not beasts. They were just men - plain and simple - and they were freer and lighter and far more amicable than any true pirate could ever be.

Amu faintly wondered how her ex-fiancé would feel to hear such things.

She pushed that thought away as quick as it came. She tried to settle her mind - tried to dwell on other things as she threw her dress over the back of a chair and rifled about for a nightgown in the trunk at the end of her bed. She grimaced. Every garment she dredged up smelled like mothballs - little puffs and wispy clouds of ancient dust billowing as she shook them out. She and Souko had recently recovered a battered chest full of old clothes that had been upturned and abandoned deep in the hold of the ship and it was fair to say that most of them hadn't fared well against the test of time. Amu scrutinised an off-white gown with a gaping tear across the shoulder. She wrinkled her nose up in dismay and promptly decided that, with not a single decent nightdress in sight, a change of underwear would have to do. She had a newly-washed chemise robe somewhere beneath all this junk anyway, though it took a bit of digging. Satisfied, she held it up to the moonlight, studying the thing for dust or moth-bites…

"Hmm, I think not..." a familiar, silky voice sounded somewhere behind her. A chill swept over her skin. "It doesn't suit you."

Amu jumped so suddenly that she nearly dropped the gown in her hands. She whirled, aghast, to find none other than Ikuto leant casually up against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest and a sly smirk spreading across his face in the dark. His eyes were raking over her form, silhouetted in a silvery light as the moon rose full beyond the window. For a second or so Amu felt as if she'd frozen. Her jaw hung open. Her pulse thumped loudly in her ears. Suddenly her corset felt too tight; her skirt too thin; too transparent…

And then she snapped;

"Ikuto!" she cried, feeling the heat rise rapidly to her cheeks. She broke out of her daze and hurriedly snatched up the dress, feebly attempting to cover herself. "D-Don't stare at a lady whilst she's undressing! Vi-Vile pirate!"

Ikuto's shoulders were shaking. "It was only my opinion." he said teasingly.

"Very well, Amu, dearest," - she could have shot him for the mocking tone in his voice - "if you are certain, my eyes are to the wall. Hurry up before I get bored."

And, to her immense surprise, Amu watched as he turned slowly, resting his shoulder against the doorway and staring out into the empty corridor. She blinked, taken aback for the slightest of seconds before snapping out of it, throwing off her old garments and stuffing herself into the chemise as fast as she could. In the doorway, Ikuto could barely contain his mirth;

"We wouldn't want to ruin our decency now, would we?" he added slyly.

Half-distracted, Amu scoffed. "There's nothing decent about you, ruffian." she muttered and was rewarded with a deep rumble of laughter. "The nerve!" Amu huffed. "Have you forgotten how to knock?"

"Have you forgotten how to shut the door behind you?" Ikuto countered.

She could just hear the smirk in his voice. Amu tried her best to conjure up some scathing retort, but, to her utter dismay, she couldn't think of one. Her heart was still pounding; her cheeks still red and burning, yet she glanced up only once at him and was somewhat placated to know that his gaze was elsewhere. Unaware of herself, she smiled fondly…

Any other Captain would have had his way with her, she realised. Any other pirate would have stripped away her nightdress and her privacy and any decency she had left to spare. Here she was aboard the Shining Black - the most feared and famed corsair's craft in the world… And its Captain was facing the wall as she dressed. And, though he might have been a notorious tease, she remembered with a flush of warmth that he cared for her.

When she was done, Amu looked down bashfully at her nightgown, wrinkling her nose at the creases etched down its front. The thing was way too big for her and far stuffier than she'd guessed. Ikuto was right - it didn't suit her. She felt like an old maid, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of being right. Now more embarrassed than outraged at his intrusion, she averted her gaze in a vain attempt to hide her blush.

"I'm-I'm done!" she said as fiercely as she could. "How about you learn to knock next time?"

And, just for good measure, she threw her abandoned corset at him. It caught him in the face as he turned with a satisfying 'thwack!' and Amu looked on, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.

"So unladylike," Ikuto drawled. He narrowed his brows, curiously peering down at the garment in his hands. He looked torn between amusement and horror. "Is this supposed to be this heavy? Or have you gotten your hands on some sketchy torture device?"

Amu could do little more than laugh aloud as she watched him rub his cheek, growing red after receiving a face-full of baleen. All her ire seemed to melt away.

"What?" she teased coyly. "Has the Captain never seen a lady's corset before?"

Ikuto smirked. He sauntered into the room, waving the garment before her face. "Most women don't throw their underwear at me." he replied with a mischievous grin. "I didn't realise Her Highness was so naughty... Perhaps you'll be glad of my company tonight after all."

He leaned in and Amu felt the heat rise to her face. The way the words rolled off his tongue was growing oddly seductive; his grin was infectious; the lure of darkest, midnight blue was pulling at her heartstrings, stirring things inside her chest that made her heartbeat race. Pink in the face and breathless, Amu snatched the corset back and tossed it into her trunk.

"You'll be lucky!" she retorted, trying not to let herself grow flustered as his laughter met her ears. Ikuto set himself down on her bed and Amu huffed again, shaking her head as she watched him make himself comfortable. Ikuto's eyes were almost cat-like in the low light - each hue of darkest blue catching the soft glow of the moon and rebounding like starlight on the waters. Suddenly feeling quite embarrassed as he gazed up at her, Amu turned away. She grasped at the puffy, unflattering billows of her nightdress and puffed out her cheeks like a child. "What do you want? Here just to harass me?"

If he was perturbed by her tone, he didn't show it.

"Have you been snooping in my cabin?" Ikuto grinned knowingly, rolling onto his back and stretching out across the bed. His eyes never left her. It wasn't a question and Amu knew that the answer was written all over her face.

"Looking for me?"

At the utterly seductive tone, Amu forced a frown. "Don't flatter yourself," she muttered, ignoring the way his shoulders shook with barely-suppressed laughter. "You scoundrel."

There was a chuckle. Amu caught a glint of blue in the darkness, shining devilishly. Before she could so much as listen to the warning in her heart, Ikuto's hand was on her wrist, another round her waist, and the cabin was falling away. Amu landed on the bedsheets with a soft squeak of surprise, wrapped in Ikuto's embrace. He laughed mischievously and her cheeks turned red.

"Ikuto-!" - He hummed lightly in response and she felt his chest rumble beneath her back. She wondered if he could feel her heart beating furiously beneath her stuffy nightgown. - "Get off, you pervert!"

"Actually, I'm quite comfortable." Ikuto said, much to her annoyance. Lying there upon the bed, he breathed against her ear, his arms wrapped tight around her waist; "Didn't you want my company, after all?"

Amu shivered, though not uncomfortably, her breath hitched in her throat. She hoped to God he didn't feel it. "I thought you didn't want to ruin my decency?" she muttered, trying vainly to break free from Ikuto's grasp, but it was pointless. She ended up slackening in his grip. Resigned to her fate, Amu gradually settled back and leant against the warmth of his chest.

She had to admit that it was not unpleasant. Her heart fluttered delightfully in her chest as she felt his breathing steady against her back; as his arms crossed over her stomach; she felt her stomach flip and her chest warm as his face settled so perfectly into the crook of her neck. Amu felt then as though she could stay this way forever - as though they could just forget this cabin and this ship and utterly forgo the rest of the world for just one night, wrapped in each other's embrace…

Amu was feeling more relaxed than she had all night when, finally, Ikuto muttered against her skin;

"So," he began, sounding possibly more peaceful than she'd ever heard him; "were you looking for me?"

"Actually," Amu began in the steadiest tone she could muster; "if you must know, I went to make sure you were actually resting for the night, okay?" Beneath her, Ikuto went quiet. She carried on; "I just… We were just worried, is all… Utau and I..."

There was a pause. Amu almost wondered whether Ikuto had fallen asleep when he sighed;

"Utau sent you to check up on me, didn't she?"

"Well, not exactly," she said, thinking back to those unspoken moments in the galley that night; "but it's been two days, Ikuto." Amu sighed, managing to pull herself upright now that his grip had slackened. She sat, her cheeks glowing in the fleeting rays of moonlight beneath the window, and stared down him. "How do you expect to chase your stepfather across the sea if you work yourself to death?"

At this, an exasperated sigh left Ikuto's lips. The moment was completely ruined, but, somehow, Amu couldn't bring herself to care. She ran a hand gently down his arm;

"We will make it," she said; "we will find him, you know that! But you need to take the time to-"

"We need all the time we can get!" Ikuto cut in, perhaps more forcefully than he meant to. "We need to spend all the time we have working on tracking that dog down! We've been evading the Royal Navy for the past five months and in that time he's just…"

Ikuto stopped. He didn't know how to go on and, really, Amu didn't know what to say. His frame was suddenly tense; his breath suddenly short. As a passing cloud drifted lazily over the horizon, blotting out the light of the moon, a shadow fell across his face and Amu's heart sank.

"Ikuto…"

There was a moment of quiet. Ikuto slowly pulled himself up and settled beside her. Amu's hand was quietly placed on his, his fingers interlocking with hers without a moment's hesitation. In the lull that followed, Ikuto relished in the warmth of her skin; the hush of her breath; he welcomed the soft tickle of her hair against his cheek and he felt the fire of his fury weaken and stutter and finally founder into nothingness like the break of a wave on the shore. His lips brushed gently across her forehead. She smelled like fresh linen and citrus and her hair was laced with salt. Ikuto's breathing steadied. He felt her squeeze his hand and his heart nearly fell in his chest. Amu's eyes were wide and anxious... And it was all his fault.

Quickly, he took his hand from hers and felt his spirit sink, his skin cold. He thought he saw Amu's face fall in the darkness, but the light was too weak to tell. Slowly, he rose from the bed, pacing towards the door.

"I will rest, as you wish," Ikuto sighed. And, turning back, he smiled softly at the sight of honey gold, shining bright against the shadows. "Goodnight, Amu."

And, not waiting for her reply, he stepped out into hallway when-

"Ikuto-!"

Before he'd so much as made it over the threshold, Ikuto was met with a blur of pink and a rush of air and Amu's arms were around him, thrown about his shoulders until the two were chest-to-chest. Her hands grasped tightly on his shirt; her face buried in his front. Ikuto chuckled lightly, taken aback, and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Amu?"

But Amu just shushed him, her voice barely a breath, and, slowly, she balanced on the tips of her toes and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss against his cheek. Warmth spread beneath her touch. His heart quickened.

"Whatever you've been worrying about… " Amu whispered. "Anything you've worried about… Just sleep on it."

Ikuto nodded gently. "I will."

Her smile was as bright as the sun itself.

And then, his bite back, he smirked;

"Unless you'd like to join me?"

His response was a slap to the head and a breath of laughter.

"Goodnight..." Amu grinned teasingly. "Ruffian."

~.~.~

A/N: Guess who realised their story plan was an incoherent mess and had to spend forever correcting it? This girl.

But on the plus side it gave me the chance to work in a bunch more adventure / amuto scenes whilst I was sorting it. I'm pretty excited. I've been writing a lot of future amuto scenes. I still feel kinda guilty about the constant slow-burn we've had up til now.

Also (because I can't PM guest reviews to thank you privately) I wanna send some love to Nobody for your reviews on not just this fic, but my other ones too. Thank you so much! Your comments are always so kind - they make my day! Thank you for being so awesome ^^

Til next time ~

~.~.~