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“Give him up, Katsuki! Surely you don’t want your ship to be blasted to bits now, do you?” He jeered at the captain of the Aman Sinaya1. The rest of Georgi’s men snickered behind him, their swords and guns aimed at him. Yuuri is outnumbered ten to one. But he stood there unfazed, his blue coat billowing in the wind.
Georgi Popovich is the most feared captain of the Russian fleet. No matter how big the ship may be, he will always sow fear into the hearts of enemy fleets and pirates alike. With a swing of his cutlass and a shot from his pistol, any enemy ship passing his way is sure to have an appointment with Davy Jones.
But Yuuri Katsuki is every inch the deadly commander Georgi Popovich is.
He started out as a voyager, a boy in his early adolescence escaping from his hometown that was seized by conquerors. He was never a fighter, at first; he was more of a merchant. But people kept sneaking into his boat, so he has to find a way to support themselves and to ward off anyone who threatens to take over them. Through years of experience in wayfinding, pillaging, fighting, and negotiation, he became one of the most notorious pirates sailing the Seven Seas.
“It’s either him or the ship, Katsuki.”
Yuuri scoffed at Georgi. Threats like this are nothing but a speck of dust to him. “Nice try, needle face. But he stays.” Georgi clicked his tongue in annoyance at Yuuri’s smug smile. He then pointed his sabre to the sky and sneered. He narrowed his eyes at the Japanese captain.
“You asked for it.” He sliced the air with his sabre, its tip pointed to Yuuri.
“Pli!” Gunshots echoed in the ship, making everyone stop and stare at the captain who stood still amidst the barrage. Their throats felt tight as smoke obscured Yuuri. However, the bullets and the swords sound odd, as if they are striking not against flesh and blood but on fragile rock.
The noise finally stopped. Georgi grinned victoriously as he stepped through the smoke to where Yuuri stood. But as soon as everything cleared, they were all taken aback.
Instead of a lifeless and bloody black-haired pirate wearing a blue coat with gold ornaments, a spiky ice wall stood in his place. Georgi can hear the sighs of relief from Yuuri’s crew. He snarled under his breath as he and his men circled the ice structure, only to find no one and nothing.
He roared at everyone aboard the ship, demanding Yuuri’s presence. In response, an icicle crashed down from above, nearly impaling his leg. Georgi gritted his teeth and snapped towards the source of the icicle. He ended up glaring up at the deserted main mast. But his sharp eyes did not miss the blurry figure that sped away from the main mast’s sails. He turned around to see where it went.
There, he found Yuuri sitting cross-legged on the quarterdeck, the barrel of his pistol pointing upwards and the same smug smirk playing on his lips. He let out a silent chuckle.
But that was not what set Georgi off.
Standing behind the captain of the infamous Aman Sinaya is their very own prince, he who is clad in a white dress shirt, trousers, and boots. His back is to everyone, but they can see the mischievous glint in his eyes masked by a blank smile.
Standing behind Yuuri Katsuki is Russia’s prince, Victor Nikiforov.
Victor fully turned to a confused and enraged Georgi as Yuuri lazily swung his pistol on his finger. “I’ll say this once and only once, Commander Popovich. I am not going back.” Georgi hissed and stepped towards them.
“I am afraid I can’t let you do that, your Highness.” He raised his hand, signaling his men to prepare for any resistance that could come from either of them. Yuuri scoffed as he stood up and placed a hand on his hip. Georgi’s hand tensed.
The Russian prince heaved out a sigh. “Do I have to repeat myself Georgi?”
“This an order from King Yakov! You are to return to Russia along with this scoundrel’s head!” The silence that loomed over the ship is heavy, and no one dared to move. Victor’s face is unreadable under his fringe and Georgi’s starting to sweat bullets.
“How about a duel, Commander Popovich?” Yuuri stepped down the quarterdeck as he unsheathed his cutlass. Georgi shuddered as he looked into Yuuri’s eyes.
His eyes are the color of chocolate, but instead of innocence and sweetness, his eyes shone with steel cold determination. His eyes are telling the commander of the Russian fleet that he will not give Victor up, not today, and never in a million years even after death. Georgi may be persistent enough to take Victor back to Russia, but Yuuri is just as determined to keep Victor aboard his ship.
“We fight to the death, and whoever deals the first wound keeps Victor. What do you say?” The pirate captain stood one foot away from him. He looked up at Georgi with a challenging smile. But he sneered and refused.
Georgi gave his men the signal. But nobody came.
He looked behind him and reeled back in horror. All his men stood unconscious, their bodies covered in ice save for their faces. He realized that due to the fury that pounded in his head, he didn’t hear any sign of struggle behind him. Georgi glared at Victor who walked down the quarterdeck with a sunny smile on his face.
“It’s my choice whether I stay on this ship or go with you. But since you won’t let up, I think it’s just fair that you fight Yuuri by yourself. After all,” His smile lost its shine and turned as cold as his cerulean eyes.
“You’re the strongest leader of the Russian fleet.” Victor stepped beside Yuuri and kissed his cheek. He then whispered something to Yuuri that made him embarrassed and confident at the same time. Georgi shook with rage and disgust at the display of affection, contrasting the loud holler coming from Yuuri’s first mate who hung from far up the rigging.
Georgi pointed his sabre at Yuuri who simply returned the gesture with his cutlass. Yuuri’s heart pounded with a variety of emotions; the thrill of battle, the fear of losing Victor, and the determination to keep him on the ship. He hid all these emotions under a confident smirk.
“Let’s dance, needle face.”
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