Two: Sailors

.

.

in another life

we've never met, and

I wonder if I'll find you

.

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Sailors were a hopeless lot to hold onto, and fish couldn't care less about how humans looked.

So, every day, Sakura rose from bed and pulled on the same drab outfit she always wore to the docks. Even if she were to try, the salt would lick her skin dry—sea spray would frizz her hair by the time she had set up shop.

Her mother used to tell her they'd fetch better prices if she painted her face and batted her eyes a bit more. But what did that matter now? Sakura had never cared for the attention such tactics bought, nor was mother around to hassle her about it anymore.

Fishermen were harder and harder to come by, anyway. Only pirates seemed to dock in her town these days, and pirates preferred asking how much she cost rather than how much her meals were or what she'd pay per pound of fish. Pirates weren't interested in selling fish in the first place. They were even less interested in measly meals prepared on the pier and served without liquor.

The less attention a solitary 20-something girl gained at the harbor, the better. Best she go pockets empty than wind up battered in a corner of a hold.

But for all her grey sack of a shirt and bed-head trying, that man was still laid out like a cat at her stall's spot on the docks when she arrived that morning, legs draped over the side of the pier.

Sakura sighed as she approached, bracing herself for the interaction.

"Why are you here again?" she snapped, toeing his shoulder with her boot.

Grinning, his sights cracked open to peer at her with those strange, endlessly dark eyes. "Nowhere else to be."

She scowled at his expression. Pirates were a notoriously flirtatious bunch, and she'd rather not get involved with one as persistent as this one seemed to be.

"You spend all your time at sea. Shouldn't you waste away in a tavern somewhere while you're at port? Aren't you tired of the ocean?"

"I like the smell." Finally getting to his feet, the man shuffled out of her way and leaned on a post beside her. "And the company here is much better than the tavern's."

She unlocked the box nailed to the dirty wood of the dock and began setting up her stall. "The tavern's company would appreciate your presence more than this company does."

"That's precisely why your company's better."

Rolling her eyes, she finished her work in silence.

This man's ship had sailed in two weeks ago, and he'd taken to milling about her stall every day since. No matter how unpleasant she was, what harsh words she used, if she ignored him completely—he stuck around like a leech. All day long, under the blistering sun or drizzle of rain, he would sit next to her stall and ramble on. Or whittle away at a stick. Or stare quietly across the sea.

Whatever he did, he was doing it in her space, and it unnerved Sakura.

She'd seen the man infrequently. Since she was a teenager, his ship docked in her town once or twice a year. But he'd never given her such attention; never given anyone at the docks such attention, as far as she knew.

Perhaps, on a whim, he'd decided she was his next conquest this time. It would be a loss for him if so, she thought.

"Go find someone your own age to bother," she demanded, tipping her scaling knife in his direction. "Don't you know the other shopkeepers are whispering about you stalking the youngest here?"

He laughed, cocking his head to the side. "Just how old do you think I am?"

"Much older than me."

"How would you know? Do you even know my name?"

"I don't, nor do I want to." She bent to open the icebox she'd brought, pulling out a large tuna. "But I've seen you here before, and you were fully grown when I was still a kid. You shouldn't be harassing a younger woman."

"I remember you as a kid. Cute little thing." He paused, waiting for a reaction she refused to give. "...Life on the sea tends to make quick men of boys. I did wait to approach you because of it, but it's not a big age difference."

Sakura scoffed. "Then how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

She regarded him skeptically. His dark hair was long and fell over his left eye. Lines carved into his skin as if a frown was the only expression he wore. He was tall and broad-shouldered, even as he bent down to speak with her. Scars littered his bare arms. A jagged one cut across his cheek.

She hadn't thought him any older than mid-thirties, but he certainly didn't look only four years her senior.

"And you're twenty, right?"

Hands freezing over the half-descaled fish, her eyes narrowed on him. "How did you know that?"

"I asked around," he answered with a casual shrug that didn't match what lay beneath the admission.

He was digging around, behind her back, for personal information.

The only thing shopkeepers on the docks liked more than money was gossip, and there was no better gossip than a sailor pining after someone in town. It wasn't surprising they were willing to share her secrets with a mysterious, attractive man—but it was annoying, nonetheless.

"Listen, you. I'm not interested in whatever you're trying here, so can't you leave me alone?" She brushed the discarded scales from the top of her cart, ensuring they flew in his direction. "Unless you intend to buy this fish or sell me some product, you have no business loitering around."

"Sure, I'll buy it." He tugged a pouch from his waist and laid down triple what she would've charged. "Sear it with its skin on. I like the crunch."

.

.

He was there again the next day.

"...When does your ship leave?"

"Two weeks. Maybe three. I can make it stay longer if you ask."

"I'm not going to ask. Or rather, how about you leave sooner?"

"Sometimes I get the feeling that I much prefer you speaking your mind than hiding your thoughts." His big hand was suddenly patting her head as he chuckled. "Although, I don't think you were very good at hiding them in the first place."

She swatted him away. "Don't talk as if you know me."

He stared through her, gaze faraway. "And whenever I have that feeling, my next thought is that you'd look beautiful in a gown…"

Despite herself, Sakura's cheeks grew hot under the midday sun. A gown? She'd never owned a gown in her life. She wasn't sure she'd ever even touched a gown. The life of a dock shopkeeper consisted of fish and small coins and bothersome sailors who rarely returned.

Like this man.

She chucked a fish head at him. "Don't mock me, either. I'm tired of telling you to leave me be. Go bother one of the town ladies if you're looking to get underneath a gown."

.

.

And the next.

He sighed, shading his face with a torn hat as he sprawled beside her feet. "My name is Sasuke. No need to call me you all the time."

"I didn't ask."

"I know. I've been waiting for you to, but my patience only lasts so long."

"Knowing a sailor's name is pointless." Even less so a pirate's. "You'll be lost to the sea sooner or later."

"Pray for later, then, will you?"

"I won't."

He laughed. Laughter came easily to him. And whenever he did so, Sakura felt something inside her clench.

For one reason or another, it always seemed like she'd been hoping her whole life to hear that sound come so naturally from this man's lips. Like the Gods were granting her wish when he didn't hide his smile or quiet his laughter.

It made no sense, and she ignored it each time. Nothing good could come from nurturing fondness for a pirate.

.

.

In fact, he came every day for three weeks after that. Until one day, he showed up later than normal, clearly dressed in seafaring clothes.

"My ship's leaving today, Sakura."

Finally. And yet…

"Good riddance," she said, ignoring the strange melancholy that swelled within her. Didn't this man always leave? Wasn't she used to it by now?

Wait—where had those questions come from?

…Of course. Naturally, sailors leave, she reasoned a moment later.

"How about you come tame the seas with me?" His fingers wrapped around her wrist, stilling her work as she fried a fish on the edge of her cart. "A ship's always in need of a cook. You'll be safe in my room at night."

"No, thanks," she drawled.

His hand disappeared. "What a shame. I think you'd be a great travel companion."

"On land, perhaps." Her brows furrowed again as the dock suddenly drifted away. She was surrounded by a tent, small flames trapped in glass dangling above. The deep smell of hemlock drifted over her as hot hands pulled her against a warm body. Sakura shook her head, and the image was gone. "But sailors say women bring bad luck on ships."

"You believe in superstitions?" he asked, bending down to lean on her stall.

"Don't you?"

"Never given it much thought."

"It's better to accept them, isn't it? You lose nothing by believing in a hoax. Not believing in what turns out to be true risks losing it all."

He smirked. "You have a philosopher's mind. So you truly won't come with me? Like your superstitions, there's nothing to be gained here."

"I won't," she repeated firmly.

"Do you have a lover?"

Not that it was any of his business, but—"I don't."

"A family that might miss you?"

"My parents died years ago. I'm sure the other shopkeepers you pestered about me already told you as much."

"So this little fish stand is all that's holding you back?"

"The shop has nothing to do with it. I have no reason to follow a pirate, and I'm not suited for such a life, either."

"What if I wasn't a pirate? Would you give me room and board?"

Just what was this man getting at?

"But you are one," she affirmed.

"Just for now. Not forever."

Sakura couldn't place it, but something made her want to play along with him and his silly proposition a little longer. She had no intentions of following him to a watery death, though she couldn't say his attention was as unwanted now as it had been five weeks ago.

She supposed she might miss him a tiny, tiny bit once he was gone. The docks could grow boring without any company, after all.

Her mouth quirked up as she caught his eye. "Waiting for a sailor is a fool's errand."

Leaning closer, he grinned back, the glint of a predator in his gaze. "Won't you play the fool for me? I'll snag a haul so large that my crew won't mind setting me free."

"And how long will such a haul take to find? Gold doesn't appear just because you search for it."

"But good fortune comes to those who work hard, no? That you're asking at all motivates me to find it as quickly as I can. So?" He tapped her wrist gently. "Will you open your heart to me if I return?"

Sailors were a hopeless lot to hold onto. But hadn't she waited many years for him already? What was a few more?

...When have I ever waited for this man? I don't even know him, she berated herself.

"You're free to go where you please." It wasn't like she thought he was being serious, anyway. Nor could she stop him from docking here if he chose to, just like she'd no power to draw him from the ocean to her side even if she dared.

"Then I'll go to you once I buy my freedom." From under his cape, the man—Sasuke—flicked a gold coin into the shallow harbor. "Shall we put your superstitions to the test?" Winking, he turned toward his ship at the end of the pier and called over his shoulder, "That's payment to the Sea God for luck. Next time, I hope I find a fool here who welcomes me home."