The Betrayed Marionette

~.~.~

It was like the beginning of a new tale.

It felt a lifetime away - the flames and the dust and the smell of the midnight breeze in their hair as they flew through the trees towards the salvation of that diamond flag aloft in the starry sky, but, in reality, the events of that night should have still hung heavy on Amu's mind. Her hair still held a faint scent of smoke. Her ears still rang. Beneath her nails there still was to be seen the faintest traces of their previous ill deeds, ruddy brown as rusted iron.

They had made it away somehow, leaving Ramira's lot scattered and in disarray behind them as they were met by more of their comrades and escorted in relative safety back to their dearest ship and as the sun rose and the trees stirred once again under the early morning light, away they went. And, inexplicably, the Shining Black had stayed afloat. Amu had said a prayer on her behalf as they crested over the gathering waves and, for what it was worth, she thought that some obscure deity might have delivered, for they faced no foes, nor faltered on their onward journey from that stolen isle and, as a sailor falls asleep in the solace of the sea, so she - but an inexperienced shiphand - had fallen asleep side-by-side with Yaya in the steady sway of the cook-come-doctor's subterranean hammock, limbs heavy, lulled into dreaming at last, feeling that their path would be divinely protected whilst they allowed their weary forms to rest after such troubles.

And so this was how Amu awoke the morning following their flight, feeling as if the chaos of the stolen island was but a lifetime away. A dream. A memory growing further and further beyond recall, for when she stirred at last, swaying lightly in Yaya's hammock, she could quite truthfully have been justified in thinking that she was still dreaming after all.

The belly of the Shining Black was transformed. The former princess could hear birds calling; water rushing; waves sighing. Light pooled in places left untouched for many moons, blinding her vision, rebounding in many ever-changing patterns above her head as she focused her line of sight up through the companionway. Amu blinked, blurry-eyed whilst Yaya (who had slept like a log and snored) finally awoke beside her.

"Oh…" The girl murmured, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her fists quite childishly. "That can't be much good now, can it, Ya Maj'sty?"

'Her Majesty' didn't quite put the pieces of the puzzle together right then, but, on rising for the day things soon became quite apparent. When Amu stood, her toes met water and her stomach sank. Yet naught could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her as she made it to the gun decks.

Her hull was almost gutted.

She'd been wounded beyond the likes of anything she had hitherto suffered. Whatever misfortune had shadowed her decks; whatever hurt had ailed her diamond prow, it was all nothing compared to what the Shining Black had endured those past two nights. Her ratlines hung limp and formless, fluttering without aim in the wind. Her masts were splintered; sails torn and tattered; and about her planks there was the overbearing stench of death, but it was naught compared to the wreck that the privateers had made of her starboard flank. Even above in the light of the sun the bulwark railings overhang her gaping maw, chipped and rent from their posts. Now the rushing waters gathered deep in the orlop's darkest corners, steadily rising until the sunlight streaming through her battle scars cast a rippling web against the bulkhead walls.

They'd been struggling to sail fully-crewed with there being so many injured men and so the Shining Black crawled, barely stumbling on it's last legs, to the next stop on their wayward mission. Unknowingly, one of Kazuomi Ichinomiya's long-kept secrets was to become their salvation, for, to a vessel as battered as she, the next secret isle was to the pirates as an oasis to a man lost in an endless desert. An island in the sky, lush and green and climbing towards the heavens, complete with a sheltered lagoon rimmed with coral at its south eastern shore, there was not a sight sweeter nor more promising for the weary crew as they finally weighed anchor amidst this jade-green paradise. And it was a good thing too, for judging by the amount of water she'd taken on, the Shining Black could go no further.

They had already gone far enough as they were willing (or indeed dared) to venture towards the well-frequented trade routes at first, for despite their peril there was no doubt that they could not and would not travel any further with the youngsters they'd picked up in tow. Small and wide-eyed in the shadow of the Shining Black's diamond flag, they had been dropped off on some suitable isle the day before where oftentimes there could be seen from the shore the cloud-like billows of schooner's sails as they began their return journeys back towards Seiyo. The pirates had gathered them food and fruits plentiful from the jungle and fetched them as much driftwood and dry timber as they could find on the beach and, now building a lofty pile of wood and dried grass, instructed them to keep the flames well-lit and fed so that the rising smoke would alert all who passed. Given the commonality of the nearby trade route, they would be spotted within a day or two without a doubt.

O', how they had wept with relief and - o'! - how Her Highness had held them tight in fond farewells! How Yoru's laughter had rebounded across the sands as he ran like a flash down the beach - drunk on freedom! - and kicked up the waves! Men of all ages had followed once they'd caught their breaths (or so did those who could still stand, at any rate) and Amu had hoped with all her heart that the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes would convey to the girls and Yoru all the lament she felt at the misfortune that had befallen them, for though truly it was not she who had snatched them away, she could not help but feel culpable deep within. Sinister words echoed within her memory; hissing in the far recesses of her mind…

"You do understand, don't you, Your Highness, what your little act of defiance has cost us?"

It was hard to believe whilst the youngsters were all frolicking about in the surf, but in that moment Amu breathed a hefty sigh and wondered if perhaps it was not all her fault, but, whether she shared some small blame or not, these times were fraught with peril nonetheless… To have all of them here safe and sound would be enough for now and, though they all had their reservations about leaving them to fend for themselves, if only for a short while, they could not possibly bring them into the conflict with Kazuomi. The road ahead was too dark for such young souls. Amu knew her conscience couldn't have lived with that and, as she pulled away from one last embrace, she felt wholeheartedly that they would find their way perfectly without them.

"Farewell, ma'am. I wish you luck." Dia's eyes were aglow with a hopeful spark as she bid them goodbye and, kissing her hand, she whispered: "And may you find happy reunion with your sister as I have with mine."

Amu's throat was thick, eyes burning even now as she recalled the way the girl's gaze lingered upon them as they sailed away; as the plume of smoke from their fire, rising swiftly, grew smaller and further from sight; as she stood aft with the Captain for one last glance and heard him softly admit that he would never forget the boy they had saved from the gibbet, for he had perceived much of himself in the young boy's façade. Amu's heart was touched by something soft at the gentle way he had spoken to the boy - something warm and oddly maternal - but she did not dwell upon it for long. Their road was onward.

And so here she was now, some time later, looking down upon another of Ichinomiya's long-lost islands from a broad stretch of headland. Below her the Shining Black lay wounded, looking like a dead whale beached on the sand. It was fortunate enough that they had made it, but more fortunate was the close proximity of this hideaway itself. When Ikuto had pointed it out upon Kazuomi's map Amu could've jumped for joy, so bedraggled were she and, indeed, the rest of the crew. So here they were and it had to be said that, as of now, no one seemed to have any intent of leaving anytime soon.

There they had moored and tightly tackled the Shining Black down. She lay careened at the shallow edge of the lagoon, rump and keel exposed to the elements, riddled with whelks and marine hitchhikers which were being slowly chipped off and tossed back into the water. Her gun ports locked and watertight, sails hitched and rolled tightly to the spars, she finally slept. The bindings that strapped her down wound around the frigate's body with such complexity that it was as though she'd fallen prey to a gigantic spider, bound tightly in some sinister web, and, as Amu watched the crew tend to the gaping, splintered hole in her starboard side, she felt a pang of sympathy for the old girl. The work on the wounded giant would take some time, not to mention that she was desperately in need of caulking from top to bottom. Below, men were hauling fallen logs out of the jungle and down the sand. Those who weren't were the unlucky fellows who were still out of action following their skirmish with the privateers, though it had to be said that Yaya had worked magic on their injuries. They were lucky.

It was not a big isle, but it was still perhaps one of the biggest that they had come across. Bordered by rocky, grey cliffs and strong headwinds, the long grass on Amu's headland swirled and twirled endlessly on the breeze as though locked in a soundless, never-ending waltz. All around there jutted out of the sea long-collapsed towers and pillars of rock and high above the seabirds cried and swooped at leisure. They were to be heard without pause at all times, even during the night when they settled into their little nests on the craggy outcrops and cooed away gently in their sleep. Daichi taunted them at first and for hours he had glided and ran circles around them with his echoing squawks whilst they tried fruitlessly to keep up. Kukai had locked him away in his cage after their first day and declared him to be in "bird jail". He was less than pleased about it.

And so the days went on. As more and more men began to recover from their latest ordeal, they went off into the trees in little groups and by the end of almost a week they had thoroughly scoped out the landscape and even circumnavigated the island in their jolly boats, but they found no fugitive pirates nor hidden treasure. There was another wooden cabin much like the one that they had found on the Isle of Spirits, but it was utterly barren and decrepit - picked clean and left to gather greenery - and they returned forlorn to aid in the cleanup of their ship. But what the lack of life did mean was that they could all breathe a sigh of relief knowing that they were truly alone in this new safe haven.

And a haven it was, for they soon found out that they wanted for nothing at all! Fruit and nuts and fresh water aplenty there were for the taking! Amu had been glad to bathe in a fresh, cool waterfall with the rest of the women and happily rid herself of the absolute muck that caked her skin after all of that unsavoury business behind them. First looking into the pool, she thought she'd looked like a swamp creature unrecognisable even unto herself. She had felt like a new woman by the time they'd finished. Meanwhile Yaya brought back papayas and mangoes and pitaya by the barrel-full. The men revelled in the novelty of clean, refreshing water for the first time in days. It was almost unbelievable to think that they had such a dark cloud looming by the day over their voyage, but, the day that they finally righted the ship and set her afloat again some time later, Kukai dropped an unwelcome bombshell.

It was the first time they had set foot in the Captain's cabin since their vessel had been careened and, as Ikuto formed the first private gathering of his most trusted in days, Kukai's face was uncharacteristically sullen.

"You're sure?" Ikuto raised a sceptical brow.

"I'm sure." Kukai replied. He scratched at the back of his head and swallowed thickly. "Y'know… I tried ta tell meself that it were a coincidence. An' we were a bit preoccupied tryna escape an' all that, so I didn't much dwell on it, but now that I think properly, well, it gives me the shivers."

But, despite the heavy atmosphere in the cabin, Utau just hummed thoughtfully. She looked almost impressed. "I didn't know you had that kind of brain power, Souma."

"What do you mean?" Amu interrupted, a bit lost. Her mind was reeling with the information that Kukai had just told her. "Kukai, you're not originally from Seiyo?"

During their little mission to break out of Ramira's stronghold, Amu remembered now that it had crossed her mind that Kukai was listening in to the Red Coat's conversations, but it still floored her to think that her dear companion could fully speak in the eastern tongue for all this time and she'd never even known! Did that make her a bad friend, she wondered?

"Of course he's not." Ikuto almost smirked. "Can't you tell? He's got that ridiculous twang-"

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny, Cap'n." Kukai rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were a bit pink. Truthfully, Amu thought Kukai's accent was closer to Seiyo's country dialect - like Yaya's, if not the same - but now that she thought about it, his tones weren't always identical. The tongue of Seiyo, twang and all, he must have picked up from the pirates. She let him continue; "My parents were traders in the east. In a merchant's colony we lived - plenty of eastern and Seiyo about, there were." He said. "I don't remember 'em much, but when they died Ichinomiya picked me up off the streets. I'd been growin' up using the eastern tongue all me life up 'til then. An' I'm telling ya - those soldiers were chattin' about Ichinomiya's treasure! The same one he nearly went an' killed us all for! The same one that he thought it smart to kidnap Her Maj'sty for! How'd ya suppose they picked up on that?"

It wasn't a question. Not really. There was an uncomfortable pause. Utau and Ikuto had both apparently lost their sense of humour. The gears were beginning to turn in Amu's head as she made the connection and by the time it had dawned on her there was not a cheerful face in the room. She grabbed the Key round her neck on instinct.

"Dia said they were come upon…"

"We were overcome by horror to find black clouds upon the horizon, but then… Then we realised that they were not black clouds at all."

Amu's heart dropped sickeningly. "You don't think..?"

"Ichinomiya." Utau finished. Her lips had formed a sharp little line and her gaze was heavily on her brother.

Kukai's face was as grave as anyone had ever seen it. "Aye." He said. "Sure sounds like it, Ya Highness."

Amu did not hear much else. Her fists were clenched, trembling almost imperceptibly, and, by the looks of it, the others shared the sentiment. Outside, the clouds parted and they saw the shadows lengthen across the cove as the sun drifted down for the night.

In the end, Ikuto dismissed them. Parting without words, darkness fell and, now taking occupants for the night once more, the lantern light returned to the righted frigate.

~.~.~

The days seemed to pass quicker after that. Now upright and reinforced, her wound fully patched, the pirates returned to the Shining Black regularly and began to scrub her planks from top to bottom. Yaya was back in the galley, loading up the hold with as much fresh fruit and other tasty morsels as she could get her hands on. She even had an apothecary! Souko had written and illustrated several old journals in her spare time aboard the Shining Black in memory of the life she had left behind and, armed with this long-forgotten wisdom, Yaya had procured plenty of herbs and leaves from along the shore which could be put to medical use.

Amu had helped Yaya gather and dry her ingredients whilst the men spent their days reinforcing and cleaning the ship as best they could, but, more than that she'd taken to wandering the isle at leisure. With no foes or predators to cross her path, she walked briskly each morning to the waterfall and clear pool where she enjoyed the novelty of bathing daily and from there trekked up to the headland where she could watch the men as ants down below until the sun went down.

The skies remained clear at night. Galaxies and planets shone brightly overhead like nowhere else in the world. The stars kissed the waters. The moon skirted the faint purple line of the horizon and sketched chalk-white smudges across the waves as they rolled across the sea. But night was less restful here, it seemed, for in those darkened hours when the birds hushed and the ocean sighed, Amu felt that the silence was slowly filled by the creeping dread that lingered in the back of her mind. With nothing to occupy her thoughts, she would lay in bed at night and feel the darkness encroaching. She would lay awake, tossing and turning, and find nothing more present to distract her thoughts from veering towards those more troubling things that were kept at bay during the daylight hours until she couldn't breathe, couldn't scream-!

Amu, gasping, sat bolt upright in bed.

She was panting, fighting for air, knuckles white against the bedsheets. A clock was ticking. She looked around once her bleary vision had cleared and sighed shakily to notice that she was indeed alone in her cabin.

'A nightmare…' She told herself. A nightmare and nothing more. She took a deep, deep breath and exhaled softly.

It was her first night back in her cabin and Amu thought that she would have been grateful for it, having camped on the beach with the other ladies up until then - woken up every morning to find the fine, but itchy sand had crept into her sheets at night; kept awake by the snoring of countless men outside as they lay sprawled out across the cove and the whipping of their makeshift tent is it flapped about in the breeze. But, quite the contrary, it appeared that Amu would find sleep quite hard to come by in this tiny box room with her mind running amuck with worries and fears best dwelt upon in the light of day.

She could not deny it: there was just too much running about inside her head. The nagging guilt of what had happened to the girls and Yoru. The black clouds that had swept them from their rightful course. The possibility of their foe being all along in cahoots with the eastern Emperor across the seas - supplying Seiyo's enemies with slaves and stories..!

It was far too much. And so before long the princess realised that she would have to leave her cabin.

Amu huffed. She'd hoped for a restful first night back aboard. She almost felt jealous then, knowing that Yaya and the two Tsukiyomi women would be fast asleep now that they weren't fighting for space in their little tent. Outside she could hear that some men were still sat around singing shanties under the stars. Usually she preferred the cool night air and thought about heading towards the deck where the bright starlight and full moon might shine clarity on her muddled thoughts and cleanse her restless heart, but whether by fate or simple chance, she had a rogue sort of thought.

She was in the corridor now, closing her cabin door softly behind her. Her gaze darted to the right.

Beneath the Captain's cabin, Amu saw the faint glow of lantern light. She bit her lip in thought. It was not uncommon now for her to remain by Ikuto's side even at night, though it was not yet a daily habit. Something stirred in her chest - it was something like longing and, for a minute, she thought to herself that sleep might come more swiftly in the presence of her significant other.

The princess made her mind up quickly which was perhaps why she found herself more than a little despondent to find the Captain not in his cabin when she entered.

"Oh, for god's sake…" She muttered. There was a bowl of once-steaming water untouched on the desk and a candle that had burnt through its wick. A pile of clothes was piled neatly beside them. Amu had placed them there herself after getting him to promise her that he would head back to his cabin after a long day's work.

Unlike his predecessor, Ikuto was an involved sort of leader. Perhaps it came from years of graft, but, whatever it was, he just could not keep still whilst his men slaved away at his command.

"Late night?"

Amu startled, spinning to meet the blue eyes of the man himself as he traipsed in through the door. Something of a cheeky grin twitched at the corners of his mouth. There was something dancing in his demeanour that had her utterly smitten, yet, as she looked into the face of the man she adored, something that she thought she'd left behind in her cabin reared its ugly head, for Amu's gaze fell upon her Ruffian then and, for a moment, she wondered if he had nightmares too.

But he must have done, she thought. How could he not? She had seen the sorrow in his eyes that night he had revealed all to her in the dark of her cabin and many times since. And that then begged the question… Just how many nights had she lain blissful in her bed and allowed herself to grow lost to the world whilst Ikuto thrashed about in his sheets, breath stolen, ensnared in the grip of shadows he could not shake?

She tried to shake the thought away. Ikuto noticed.

"Cold?"

"You're letting in the draught." She said, more confidently than she felt. Ikuto dutifully shut the door behind him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Your Highness?" Ikuto teased, strutting into the room like an alley cat strolls down a brick wall.

Despite his swagger, Amu found it within herself to be tough on him; "I hope you haven't been toiling this whole time!" And she gestured to the array of things left upon the desk. "You haven't even touched these!"

He had not rested for the whole duration of their stay. Not properly, anyway - not in any way that Amu deemed fit and acceptable, for he had not laid in his cabin beyond a quick cat nap upon their arrival, and, though at her insistence he had stopped to freshen and change out of his grubby attire which had first been bloodied during their clash with Kiseki's band of privateers, he was now equally filthy from labouring in the great clean-up. Now, fourteen days in and safely tucked away on an undisputedly deserted island, Amu had finally had the chance to frog-march him into his cabin and present him with fresh, clean clothes. Which, aside from being useful to Ikuto, was proving more so for Amu's wandering thoughts.

"Here." She said, tossing the garments over the desk which he caught deftly against his chest. "Honestly! Pirates you might be, but that does not excuse poor hygiene! You're disgusting, Ruffian."

Ikuto's lips twitched as he watched her fold her arms and look upon him expectantly. He did not miss the mischievous glimmer in her eyes that he was so proud of. There was a playful mocking in her tone that could have only been brought to light by such time as she'd spent in their company - not that she'd have noticed.

Presently, the Captain unfolded the bundle of clothing and resisted the urge to make a teasing remark that touched on the domesticity of their little interaction, for looking up at her now he saw the firmness in her body language and, ultimately, knew that she had a point. His shoulders sagged a little. All of a sudden he was aware of how unkempt and unclean and weary his body was beginning to feel now that they were here and relatively unthreatened. Right now, he could not deny that Amu's little act of heart-warming concern was very much needed.

But, nevertheless, just a little tease couldn't go amiss;

"Amu…" Ikuto purred. "Now this is a turn-up. Never has a lady been so desperate to remove my clothes."

He noticed with great satisfaction the way her face flushed pink even in the dim light; blush blossoming across her cheeks like a newly-opened bloom in the spring. Brows furrowing, she shook her head roughly and huffed.

"Only in your dreams, scoundrel!" She spluttered. Beside her was a small bowl of still water and a bundle of cloth which had been placed there not long ago and been swiftly forgotten. It was still good to use, so she snatched up a washcloth and roughly swished it about in the water. "Don't be such a pervert! I'm trying to make sure you don't drop dead, idiot! I don't know why I bother!" And, at his replying chuckle, she flicked him with water until he flinched. "Fine. Drop dead. See if I care! Just take a bath and tip the water out when you're done!"

Amusement was dancing in Ikuto's eyes at her ruffled appearance, but, blissfully, even he knew when to read the room. His tone was touched by but a hint of affection as he gladly took up the washcloth. Dust was settling at the bottom of the bowl even as he rinsed his hands.

"Thank you."

Amu made to leave, muttering some "goodnight" on her way towards the door, floorboards creaking as she picked her way through the darkness. Ikuto was in his own world by now, wholly distracted by his task when he began to peel back the billowing sleeves of his shirt with mild trepidation. It was not pleasant. Glued fast to his skin by days worth of dried blood, he sighed. He'd probably need more bath water. But, at the last minute, just when he was resolving to tear the whole thing off and get it over with, Ikuto noticed that he couldn't hear the creaking of the planks anymore.

Amu was back at his side in less than a minute.

"Oh. That's right." She mused. Her words sounded faint and far away as if she'd not meant for them to be voiced aloud. "You never got those wounds cleaned up after the fight. Here, let me help. They're not open still, are they?"

He fought back the chuckle that was trying to burst forth from within his chest; "Not that I don't appreciate your concern, Your Highness," - (oh, there it was! A faint blush. How desperately adorable.) - "but it's really nothing."

But, as Ikuto felt her delicate hands atop his, his heart fluttered. And he didn't resistance for but a moment as Amu gently took the washcloth from his grasp and wrung it out tightly.

"Don't be so stubborn, Ikuto." She said. And, fighting the growing flush; "T-Take it off."

Finally, after a moment's quiet, he complied. He reached for the hem of his shirt.

"Now," Ikuto said cheekily; "is Her Highness about to uphold her usual morals concerning decency or would she like to stick around for the show?"

She supposed that her Captain was making sly remarks about her own insistence on the boundaries of undressing in private, wondering for himself if she'd turn around on instinct. Really, it made no difference to him that she'd already cared for him once before, but, now that Amu thought about it, she was growing hot realising that this would be the most skin of his that she'd ever seen before. Burning with humiliation at the taunt, she opened her mouth to make some scathing retort-

The words died upon her tongue. Amu balked, her jaw slack, blood cold;

"I-Ikuto..?"

Ikuto stood across from her in his cabin, half-disrobed, frowning at the way her face had paled. Amu was aghast.

In the glow of the moonlight the ruin that their most recent battles had wrought upon his was plain to see. He had a graze from a pistol shot across one arm. Nicks on his forearms. A wide cut running across his shoulder, but nothing deep - nothing truly disastrous. Luck had been on it side, it appeared, that day. But, to Amu's horror, that was where Ikuto's luck had run dry.

Striking white tissue leapt out from the canvas of his skin, gleaming in the pale moonlight - some raised, some smooth, but all ran deep as wells, winding thick like rope spread taught against tattered sheets… From neck to tailbone, Ikuto stood before the princess and only now did she notice just how his back was absolutely riddled.

He stilled then - stood rigid on the spot as though he'd realised only too late; too caught up in their playful banter - of being accustomed to living in more wholesome times - to remember that torment which once caused these carvings to dig deep into his back. His shoulders tensed as though he was about to pull his shirt back down on instinct, but Amu stopped him - hiked the hem of the bloody linen fabric until it was out of the way and there she allowed herself one first, tentative touch; delicate fingertips on snow-white scars.

A pause. A breath. A moment of suffocating quiet swallowed the cabin…

"Oh, Ikuto…" She breathed. There was a lump stuck fast in her throat, tears pricking hotly at the corners of her eyes, and for a moment she could say no more. In her mind she thought back to that day she had witnessed him slinking away from his stepfather's cabin like a wounded creature - remembered the way he had limped off to safety and the ugly, purple bruise that had blossomed against his cheek for days.

Something fierce and furious sparked to life inside her then. Her jaw clenched. She had not thought that it was possible to hate their foe any more than she already did, but here she was. And here Ikuto's welts were growing stark against the moonlight.

His head hung regretfully, Ikuto heaved a resigned sort of sigh, for in his heart he wished dearly that he could have kept such unsightly memories tucked away from her sight forever - to keep her unburdened and content in her unknowing . Amu paid it no notice.

"H-How..?"

There was a pause. For a moment she thought he was about to forcibly pull away and tug down on his shirt. But then she saw his muscles relax. He swallowed thickly;

"The cat o' nine, usually." He murmured, so quietly that it was a wonder she'd heard it. Amu was still tracing the damage as he spoke. "That was his favourite."

Amu's heart positively ached at the defeated tone of his voice - something broke within her so devastatingly that she almost feared she would never heal again, for how could she, she thought, when always Ikuto would carry these physical reminders with him? Reminders that would never fade - that no amount of care nor tending to would ever wipe from the surface of his skin?

Oh, how Ikuto had borne the brunt of unspeakable things the likes of which she could never imagine. How resilient, yet fragile both in measure was his unwavering spirit. How could he, she wondered, maintain the kind and loving manner that he kept with her when such horrors had been wrought upon him? Amu recalled with an aching in her chest the countless times he had held her close; kissed her passionately; that he had whispered such wholesome and loving, uplifting things in her ear… And whilst Amu's own heart was kind, she began to doubt now whether or not she too would have been able to retain her own personality had her past been muddied with such unspeakable trauma…

But Ikuto, somehow, had not lost himself when he lost his freedom. And she was completely choked up with adoration.

Wrapping her arms round his middle, Amu rested her damp cheek against his back, feeling the peaceful thrumming of his heartbeat beneath her. It relaxed her senses, radiated throughout her tired limbs and soothed the nerves that had been riled to witness the devastation Kazuomi had wrought upon her Ruffian's body. Ikuto's presence was warm and comforting unlike anything she'd ever known. Finally, after a moment of quiet reflection, Ikuto shrugged off the shirt entirely and his hands met hers. Slowly, he pried her arms away before turning back to embrace her properly.

There were no more deep wounds to be seen on Ikuto's front, thank goodness, but there were superficial marks that bore tales of conflict typical of any pirate - marks resulting from naval battles and other more insignificant disputes. She could overlook those, she decided.

"You know," Ikuto's voice rebounded amidst the darkness, drawing her from those most gloomy thoughts at last. He spoke into her hair, breath tickling along the side of her ear as she rested her head upon his collar; "it looks worse than it is."

Amu almost scoffed at this, but the breath was trapped in her throat as she tried with all her might to choke back her anguish. For some reason, his indifference was enough to make her more distraught. Perhaps her empathy was too much for one person, she considered, for it was as though her body found the need to make up for his lack of misery. This he knew. But he continued.

"Oftentimes I forget them totally."

The former princess could not believe that, had she been in Ikuto's place, she could've forgotten such grievous punishment. But somehow she did not doubt that this pirate before her, holding her so affectionately in his arms, was able to lay such things to rest. He had weathered so much in his time, after all, that things akin to the scars on his back must have appeared only fleeting in his mind - brief and insignificant amongst the innumerable trials that had been placed before him in the years since that dark shadow had first fallen upon his form. And yet…

Amu drew a fingertip down the mild cut that had torn across his shoulder. It had formed a rocky line in healing, but the surrounding skin remained smooth and satin-like in its wake. History was being added to her Ruffian's form daily, she realised; all manner of narratives traced over his physique as the pen recorded tales of old upon parchment in dusy libraries a world away.

Their story was moving. Changing. Closing and opening new chapters with every voyage; every breath; every step they took forward into the grand unknown, but Amu felt something unprecedented stir within her then as she and Ikuto stood together in the moonlight of his empty cabin - something impulsive and desperate. Something that made the hairs on her body stand; that made her heart pound; rekindled the blush that overcame her fair cheeks and sent her good senses reeling…

It was the impulsive desire to make her own marks upon Ikuto's flesh. To find out precisely where her fingernails could make the most delectable, deep lines upon his body. To find every place where his former stepfather's hand had left such ugly bruises and kiss them until a bloom of passionate pink and purple flourished in its place. It was unbidden, indecent! It was a desire so unbecoming of a woman of her background, but, for the life of her, Amu was all of a sudden positively overcome with a rush of unbridled longing the likes of which she'd never known before this moment. Could she replace all the torment that had marked his beaten body? Kiss him 'til he forgot all else? Could she turn the pages? Bring forth a new chapter of their very own that left no room for the likes of that which he had long left behind? No room for unpleasant memories..?

Now, in the dark as the moon was distorted by a wisp of cloud, Amu dried her eyes before he could see her tears ('Be strong,' she told herself; 'Be strong!') and reached for the washcloth. Fist tight, she wrung out the water and proceeded to dab delicately at those wounds that were still unhealed. Ikuto's starry gaze followed as she reached for a phial of one of Souko's makings - a precious bottle left over from the chaos that had followed their recent near-defeat. The contents smelled strong - like a stroll through a kitchen garden at springtime. Amu thought that it must've stung, but Ikuto didn't so much as flinch as she soaked the solution into his pistol-wound.

"How?"

Her voice was but a breath in the darkness; a faint flutter; a waver barely noticeable to untrained ears. But Ikuto knew. He knew her thoughts better than anyone else.

"I have a beautiful distraction." He said simply, grinning at the way she stilled and blinked back up at him. Her cheeks were blooming.

"P-Pervert."

Ikuto's chest shook with laughter, causing her flush to only darken. Embarrassed, she dug her washcloth against the pistol-wound, drawing a hiss from his lips.

"Ouch."

"Oh, don't be such a big baby." Amu huffed, feeling humour creep back into her tone again. She bit her lip to stop herself from smirking in satisfaction. "You're fine. And you'll heal."

"Maybe so." His eyes were still upon her, careful and expectant. She had the uncanny feeling that he was searching for something within her countenance as he whispered; "And you?"

With a lurch of the stomach, Amu suddenly thought she knew what he was talking about. Really, it hadn't even dawned on her up until now - not properly, anyway - that she was officially a woman with blood on her hands. She'd never killed so much as an insect before - not willingly. Ramira's face, frozen in shock, flashed in her mind. Numbly, she became aware of Ikuto's inquisitive eyes upon her.

"They'd have killed us." Was all Amu said.

Ikuto hummed in agreement. Now rid of blood from the torso up, he paused to turn towards the desk and splash water in his face. Amu heard the drips pattering on the floorboards. "Yeah." He said. "You're right." And, tugging on a fresh, clean shirt. "You. Me. The girls. Yoru…"

He was right as well, she thought. A trafficker didn't deserve mercy. But, though taking the life of such a sordid man did not sway her, there was one little detail that did.

"I did this."

Amu's voice was small and feeble in the darkened cabin. There was but the tiniest shake - a choking sort of feeling welling up in her throat as she recalled with displeasure her conversation with Ramira in his quarters. Ikuto frowned.

"What do you mean?" And, when she didn't answer immediately, he took her by the hand; turned her round to face him; "Amu?"

"It's all down to me, really, isn't it?" Despite herself, the former princess shook her head as if it would rid her eyes of the tears she knew were threatening to flow freely. "Seiyo's relations with the east have crumbled. And our people are suffering in retaliation… And it's because of me. It's because I abandoned my duty…"

Ikuto felt himself squeeze her hand on instinct. "Amu… Don't be ridiculous."

"But it's true." She sighed. "If I'd stuck by my parents' wishes and played my part in my father's treaty then all would have been for the better of my people." Before she knew it she was in Ikuto's arms, head against his chest again and, revelling in the steady thrum of his heartbeat, Amu knew then why it bothered her so: "But that's the problem! I don't want to go back. Not in the slightest! I won't leave you and all your men, Ikuto! I can't go back to my country, but I don't know how I'm supposed to right things…" And, sighing, she sighed, deflated; "I am not used to not being able to please everyone."

A silence stretched between them after this. Ikuto's grasp around her did not falter, nor did he give assurance either way, but Amu liked that. She liked that he knew to let her air her worries every now and then before offering a helping hand. She remembered how Tadase had interrupted her little rants continuously with sweet words of reassurance and, whilst she knew it came from some good place in his heart, it did not leave much room for her to truly get to the root of her worries. Ikuto was different. And so he took much careful thought before responding.

"You know what?" He whispered finally, rocking slightly on his heels so that she swayed soothingly with him. "Me too."

Taken aback, Amu raised an eyebrow and craned her head back to catch a glimpse of his expression. He understood the silent question.

"On that stolen island, I hastened back to you." He began. "Once I saw those Red Coats in the cove, I put my worry for you above all others. I ran too rashly into the bush and my men were captured as a result."

Amu's heart flipped. "Tha-That's not true…" She tried to tell herself. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Darling," Ikuto mocked cheekily; "do you doubt that I would run blindly into perils unknown to keep you safe?"

"Don't tease me, Ruffian." She extracted herself from his grasp and busied herself at his desk, lighting a single lamp in the dark. "If you're going to be like that, then I might as well bid you adieu for the night."

"It's true." Ikuto insisted, mocking tone withheld now, and when Amu looked back into his starry gaze she knew deep down that never had a man been so serious about his affection for her. "You're human, Amu. And any human, me included, cannot endeavour to please all others all of the time. We are all allowed some mistakes along the way, but, for what it's worth, I don't count your being here as a mistake. What matters is the motivation rather than the outcome."

There was a pause - a profound quiet that seemed to encompass the entire frigate whilst Amu searched for the words to reply to this unusually positive sentiment. In fact, she was quite ashamed to admit that she was more taken aback by Ikuto's little admission that she had been the cause of his own folly.

"Any good man would have done the same for those he cared about."

Ikuto smiled. "We are all the same, Amu. We all hold guilt. Oftentimes I do not fit for my role as Captain, truth be told. Often I lay awake with guilt knowing that I lead every man here into peril for my own change at vengeance. But we must remember that we are here today because the people that matter care for us." He was in front of her again now, fingertips skimming down her pale cheeks, trailing under the curve of her graceful jaw…

Amu managed a watery smile. Something felt warm and soft inside her chest. She nodded in agreement. Apparently, Ikuto was satisfied.

For the first time that evening, Amu found herself laughing. Only he could turn her mood around in record time and as his lips met hers she felt her lingering worries melt away. Maybe just for tonight she could forget. Maybe, for now, she could let him whisk her away until all else felt faint and far away.

Their kiss was tentative, yet full of emotion at first. Amu found herself securely against Ikuto's chest, fist bundled against his shirt. Secretly, she could not believe that the man before her could ever have doubted himself, no matter what perils they faced, for her Ruffian was steadfast in her eyes - walking without a hint of hesitation wherever he went. This voyage, after all, had given him a presence beyond his years. She thought briefly back to the figure she had seen so, so long ago hunched over in her boxy cabin: lean and undernourished, grey in the face and for all the world an afterthought in this grim reality, never quite breaching that gossamer barrier between the living and the background…

But near two years had passed and now Amu found herself thrown off her feet by a much stronger character. Yes, back then he had been but a teenager. In manner and body the change was now plain to see. Ikuto was still lithe and light on his feet, but his body held weight, his form grown fuller so that he towered above her, broad and striking. Now he bore the marks of a man well travelled. The sun must have shone brighter and banished the fog that had submerged his soul for so long, for his skin was browned. His face was no longer gaunt, but full, chiselled and touched by stubble.

But his eyes… They had not changed. They still held a sparkle just as they had on that very first day. They were still reminiscent of that sky she had so longed to see. A smattering of starlight. A cosmos upon the earth and here they had been all along… In such an unexpected place…

Briefly, Amu wondered just how he could be entirely different, yet exactly the same. And, in the back of her mind, she wondered what changes Ikuto perceived in herself as she did in him.

"Come, Amu." Ikuto whispered as he pulled away. "For tonight, let us focus on the now. I won't have your overactive conscience sully such a beautiful night."

Amu thought that was a very good idea. She nodded gratefully.

"Thank you, Ruffian."

A chuckle. A deep kiss. And then, cheekily;

"You're staying the night?"

Despite the familiarity of the situation, Amu couldn't fight the flush that flooded her cheeks. "O-Of course… If you'll have me."

A laugh escaped his lips - pure and genuine.

"Oh, my love… I always will."

~.~.~

A/N: Happy (late) New Year!

And just a heads up: this fic will be changing to M-rated fairly soon, so remember to change the rating filters on the archive page (seeing as M-rated fics aren't listed by default) or be sure to fav/follow to be notified of future updates!

Til the next ~ !