Work Text:
I wanted to yell at Emeraldas, but by the time I realized what happened, she was long gone, following Tochiro into the emptiness of space. The fact that their daughter was asleep further quelled my fury or least hold my tongue as not to scream out everything I had been holding back, even as I wanted asked her how would I be better equipped than her to care for a toddler, I have scars, I lost an eye – how could I be any better if I can’t even take care of myself?
But that wasn’t my job – my job was to ferry their little girl to someone who can – that was my promise to them. I just needed to keep her safe until then.
As Emeraldas disappeared from radar with Tochiro’s casket, I looked down at her, the wiggly toddler who didn’t know what was going on, only that oto and haha weren’t here, her eyes started to well up, threatening to cry for them. I gently rocked her, trying to distract her – and myself from all that happened.
Mayu might be fortunate that she would be too young to really remember this. Her sniffles continued unabated by my own attempts, and she was on the verge of fully wailing as her arms flailed - reaching for people she can't see, as if the gestures would summon them, getting more and more upset when it didn't work. I started humming, humming that song Tochiro would sing with the words I always thought shouldn’t be any soothing to children, but thank what higher power exists that it seemed to work, as what was going to be a wail dialed down into hiccupping sobs, staining my shoulder with tears and drool.
I was so focused on her that my helming of Arcadia’s maiden voyage was a mere blur, my commands automatic and I was amazed I somehow didn’t crash us into a planet with the haze my mind was wrapped in. All I remember is that I snapped at anyone that attempted to take her from my watch, cradling her to my chest, or squeezing her hand when she is toddling, still getting used to walking. Some of my men even claimed I had bore my teeth, even growled as if I was a wolf.
I am pretty damn sure that I had more self-control than that.
And when she started crying for her parents, and humming or singing wasn’t enough – the ocarina that Tochiro gave me worked, her eyes closing as I played… she wanted their voice of comfort, the one thing I could never give her, my instrument was the best I could do.
But I can’t do this forever, I can’t – even if I hadn’t promised her father, a pirate ship was no place for a child to grow up. I want to pretend my own experiences was a good enough template to raise a little girl, but no – no matter how well my father managed to hide his smuggling, I knew as an adult that he was irresponsible for dragging me along on his ‘business trips’ and it was only by fate and his skill that I didn’t end up suffering for it.
Even that futureless planet, with the loathsome people was a better place for a child than a ship full of outlaws and danger. I… I didn’t want to, but I have to, for her. For her father.
Each day we sail towards Earth, I kept telling myself that I should get more distant, spend less time with her, accept help – if only to get her used to being around other people. Yet there I was at my seat in the bridge, bouncing her in my lap as she giggled and play-smack Tori-san’s beak in the only way only a child her age could before she pats and kiss it. For his part, the bird was shockingly tolerant of a toddler’s play, enough that I caught her using him as a support when she attempted to walk on her own.
She is smart like her father, and as strong-willed as her mother, and more I wish Tochiro and Emeraldas were there to see her when she let go of Tori-san, awkwardly turning before she steps towards me, arms extended, as the unsteady gait gained confidence and she all but flung herself into my arms, giggling – calling out ‘hawra’ ‘hawra’ – her attempts at pronouncing my name.
…I should push her away, I should have. But I couldn’t will myself as she crawls over me, trying to stand on my knees to hug me around the neck. I swear she knew something was going on by how much more she’s been clinging to me.
No, she’s a toddler – she’s too young to be planning or devious like that, I think it’s me that couldn’t let go. We were mere hours away from re-entry, something she never experienced, and I found my heart twisted around – mere hours from fulfilling my promise.
Mere hours from her disappearing from my life.
As I returned to my seat, with Mayu taking her position in my lap, I called out adjustments to our entry, before I placed my hands over her tiny ones, instructing her to cover her ears – trying to make it a game. I wasn’t sure how she’d respond to the pressure and noise that comes with re-entry even with Arcadia’s shields, but I didn’t want her first time on her father’s home planet to be a thing of terror.
As the ship rattles, I continued to play with her, lightly tickling her sides, everything I could think of to keep her distracted and focused on something that wasn’t scary, I was at a point I didn’t care if my crew saw me do something ‘undignified’ if they ever took their eyes off the console during the re-entry.
An all-clear was called, and I sighed in relief, not a single tear was shed – I admit that I did a good job. I let myself smile as she laid against my chest, before I forced myself to focus.
My job will be over soon – and it’d only be an hour’s flight before I fulfilled my promise. I called out the coordinates Tochiro had given me, a place he was familiar with from his childhood. It was evening when we entered Earth, but by the time we arrived at the orphanage, it was well in the gloom of night, made darker by the black clouds that rolled in.
It certainly matched the mood that was coming over me. Again, some of the crew offered to take her for me, only to be shouted down by others, breaking into an argument that I have long tuned out as I had spent our last hour together making her ready, thankfully she was more amenable to baths than her father, seeing it was play time, pushing her head into my hands as I gently toweled her dry, the warm bath and towel making her sleepy, which suited me fine as I returned to my room, grabbing the pair of letters I had – one envelope containing a letter from her father, and another I composed to add what Tochiro did not have the strength to complete before he passed on.
It was time. There was an audible hiss as the belly of the ship opens, the ramp sliding down. Mayu was half against my chest, half on my shoulder as I arranged my cloak to cover her, the letters in my free hand.
It was a simple path uphill towards the orphanage, the attached church standing tall in the deep night as it’s bells tolled the time – ten o’clock.
But it felt as if someone had dipped my boots in lead, with how long it took for me to take steps – I think I now understood why they said the last leg of a journey is the hardest. I tried to ignore how my eye was stinging, it’s not important now.
Churches have creches, I could just leave Mayu inside with the letters, she would be safe, she would be carefree, an anonymous orphan who could later choose to learn of her family if she deigned to look at those letters when she’s fourteen.
No… that’s the coward’s way, just slinking off into the darkness, dropping her off like some kind of charity shop donation.
Or I could break my promise and head back – it’d be irresponsible, but is really leaving her at an orphanage at my friend’s say-so really the right thing to do?
The image of her getting caught in the crossfire of battles came to my mind unbidden – no, it’s not safe to be with him, she has to be here, not on the Arcadia.
I dismissed the idea as she started to squirm, the cool air causing her to stir… please, stay asleep a little longer. I breathed in as I found myself in front of the door, and tapped the buzzer with an elbow.
Seconds passed, but it felt like forever until the door opens, my vision going spotty from the flood of light.
And my ears rang from the terrified scream that greeted me, and Mayu wailed right in my ear from being startled.
“H-h-harlock?! We – We’re an orphanage!” the terrified woman ducked behind the door, staring at me with owl eyes as her knuckles turned white against the door. “We don’t have anything! Do-don’t hurt us!”
…I didn’t even think about how it would look for a pirate to just randomly turn up on their doorsteps, and in hindsight I think I might have panicked – I didn’t want the law to get involved while Mayu was in my custody.
“No – no wait!” I called out as I grabbed the door to keep her from slamming it in my face – and right at that moment, the sky decided to open up and soaked us in a cold downpour – I sometimes wonder if fate decided to just add onto my misery for drama. “Please, I…” I fumbled my words as I tried to draw my cloak to further protect Mayu from the rain. “Please, this girl – I can’t take her with me, can you please watch over her?” I must have sounded desperate, probably because I was.
The terror on the woman’s face was replaced by sheer bafflement, and what looked to be pity. “Is she…?” she tentatively asked, looking between my sniffling, screaming, and shivering godchild and myself before she quickly ushered us inside. “Oh, the poor dear’s cold.”
I shook my head, though I’m not sure if she really believed me as the woman extended her arms to Mayu, who responded by grabbing my shirt tightly. Mayu, please don’t this I silently begged as I gently pried her fingers off.
“You know this is highly unusual Harlock, there’s a system for bringing an orphan into care-” She stopped, studying me, perhaps remembering why I couldn’t do it legally as I press Mayu into her arms. “Anyways, we’ll figure something out.”
And soon as I let go, my godchild starts wailing even louder, reaching out to me. “Hawra – Hawra-!”
“Sssh… Mayu, be a good girl.” I whispered, as the superintendent gently bounced her. “I won’t be gone forever, be a good girl – and – I’ll see you every birthday, I swear on it.”
God. Damn. It.
It’s hard to say who was more taken aback by my foolish, impulsive promise – the superintendent who gaped at me like a fish, or myself as I felt my heart dropped to the floor. Mayu didn’t seem to understand what I said, but my voice seemed to have momentarily mollified her as she goes quiet, staring at me with those large eyes.
…Even if she wouldn’t remember me making it – I can’t take it back. I said the words, I promised and made this much harder than it had to be for the both of us.
“…Harlock? Is that true? That you’ll visit?” The woman asked nervously.
“Yes. I never break a vow once I made it.” I answered slowly, exhaling – cursing my own impulsive stupidity, now she can’t have a normal life. Hearing the crinkle of paper, I looked down at my hand at the half-drenched and nearly crumpled letters. “Here – these are from her father. Keep them until she’s fourteen.” I all but slammed them onto the side table in the entryway and turned on my feet.
I could sense Mayu reaching for my back. I dare not turn back to look as I stepped back out into the rain.
If I turn to look, I’ll falter – if I slowed down, I’ll turn around and look, and I’ll falter. If I listen to her crying out the garbled version of my name, I’ll slow down, I’ll turn around and look and I’ll falter. If I kept walking instead of running, I’ll listen to her calling out to me, I’ll slow down, I’ll turn around and look, and I’ll run back to grab her.
I’ll end up breaking my promise and put her in danger.
My heart roared in my ears as I ran straight for the Arcadia, not caring how muddy or soaked I ended up as I all but leaped the length of the ramp into the ship itself, panting and drenched, tracking mud into the bowels of Arcadia.
I’m not sure where my feet were taking me until I found myself at a familiar structure – the main computer stood like a giant, metal hourglass. The only reason I didn’t slump against the base with my back to it as had been my habit is my fear of getting it drenched.
Lights oscillated across the computer’s surface as soon as the door closed behind me – not by my action, but his.
“…I did it,” I whispered to him, dropping to my knees. A series of soft trills and beeps answer.
“I made a mistake, my friend.” I rubbed my face, blinking as all I ended up doing was getting more rainwater on my cheek. “I made a promise to her.”
The sound I heard wasn’t what I expected – it sounded like… laughter? A familiar, teasing one.
“You’re right – I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make such promises.” My lips curved into a crooked smile. "But know she'll be safe as long as I breathe."