Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The calm back and forth swaying of the boat becomes rhythmic as ever while night washes over the horizon. They’re far from land, and it’s reckoned they won’t reach any kind of vestige anytime soon either. The supplies will last them for a long time, enough to take their time with it and exercise caution.

Currently the only person aboard the ship in a state of wake is it’s captain, Chuuya Nakahara. Standing on the edge with his elbows over the railing and watching the surprisingly meek sea beneath sway back and forth. His eyes closed while trying to attune to a sound to be heard somewhat distantly, yet cannot make out the origins of either.

It’s soft and sweet, a song familiar to him.

It’s not the first time he’s heard it either, although the music comes out differently everywhere he goes. Sometimes aggressive and hostile, sometimes alluring and facetiously innocent. This one soothes the ears and doesn’t ring as hollow in its innocence, so he listens for as long as he may.

It’s been eight years since first stepping foot on a ship, eight years passed for the decision of this lifestyle, and not once has he regretted it. Not even through the stories of old pirates and sailors trying to scare him away. Albatross laughed every time the old men spoke of sea creatures singing you to your doom. Chuuya knows it to be true, and so do his crewmates. As ridiculous as it may be.

Stories of ships sailings straight to their deaths, crashing on the rocky islands and falling apart. Men and women jumping to the water below never to resurface again. They’re warnings to stay away from certain places. Sirens exist and he has heard their treacherous sounds all too often. During the nights his friends stay below deck in their quarters, ears plugged up as to not wake on accident only to feel compelled to the seas.

Chuuya is the only one allowed on the deck during those times, free to listen and perceive to his heart’s content without fear of repercussion. Yet he has never actually met a single one of those sea demons hell-bent on dragging people like him to their deaths.

He’s heard them plenty of times, but never bore witness to their form or what they looked like.

The sound that fills his ears is nice, it’s soft and almost shy in its willingness to be heard. A small, rocky little island is visible on the horizon line, deceptively close to the ship. Too far to see what’s happening, but close enough to know it’s there. That’s where the creature is, he’s almost sure of it, but he’s no fool either. Going off on his own at the dead of night when all the others are fast asleep is asking to be drowned in a long and drawn-out death. A revolver sits comfortably in its holster hanging from his hip, six bullets loaded in its chamber in case of danger. It goes unused most of the time, his preference falling to daggers to begin with, but he can use the firearm to a good enough degree to defend himself if needed.

He can’t shake the curiosity, but the responsibility of the ship and its crew weigh on his shoulders. Acting like a reckless fool wouldn’t be to anyone’s favor, and leaving his friends behind this way would probably only prompt Albatross or Lippmann to come straight to hell to drag him away, back to the surface.

A light chuckle escapes him as the mental image forms in his mind. The calmness of the water almost entrances enough to miss the footsteps creaking aboard. Wooden planks being weighed down by a body that isn’t his. And when he turns around to face whoever woke, all he ends up seeing is a silhouette slinging itself over the railing on the other side.

With no time to spare he rushes to the other side, a spot with ripping water informs him whoever it was, was already under. The dinghy hangs from its davit and without much care or consideration he lowers it down as to not strand himself in water without an easy way back up.

All the while his head whirs with worry, wondering which of his idiotic mates was reckless enough to forget the plugging of their ears. He’ll give them a right verbal lashing afterwards, but for now all his mind is occupied with is finding them and dragging them from the water. Not the easiest task in the world when visibility is so low. The small boat stays tethered to the schooner, not wanting to lose sight of it even when the sails have been rolled up and the ship isn’t in position to be sailing anywhere.

A captain is nothing without their crew. This is a fundamental rule for sailing, regardless of what your purpose at sea is. Pirates, Royal navy ships, merchants. The rule is universally applicable. It’s a lesson that sticks with you, and surprisingly this captain finds that most of the arrogant merchants he encounters seem to think otherwise. Navy commanders are much worse in that regard,  treating their men as completely expendable. He’s given it thought and yet always fails to understand where the arrogance comes from. A captain can’t man a ship on their own, they can’t perform all the necessary tasks by themselves.

That’s why he’s vowed to be different, and always will stick to that. Any man or woman who man’s his ship is there for a reason, and he won’t sit by and do nothing when he could be doing something to help them.

Relieving himself of the extra layers of clothing, belts and accessories that only serve to weigh him down in the water with no purpose. Chuuya dives, opening his eyes to the prickling sensation of salt  that tries to invade him. It’s uncomfortable and always will be, but between the choice of accidental seawater intake and losing a friend, he knows what’s more important to him.

The darkness helps nothing and the density of the water only makes the visibility worse for it. There’s barely a ray of moonlight shining down on the surface, forcing him to surface for air much quicker than he’d like to. Now the panic starts to set in, unable to find whichever poor soul was tranced into the depths below. If they hadn’t already been dragged deep down to where Chuuya could never reach to begin with.

Another gasp of air, diving down and scanning the surroundings for anything that could indicate a person. This time he does see it, somewhat further away than expected, but not as deep underwater as he thought either.

A silhouette moves along, causing an audible shock that ends with the inhaling of water. A foolish mistake on his end that forces him back up to the boat, coughing up whatever had made its way into his lungs.

“Fuck.” He sputters, trying to get his bearings. What is he so afraid of? Large fish?

No, that wasn’t a fish and he knew that damn well. It takes an utter fool to be tricked into thinking of that was an animal. Coughing until his lungs are free to breathe again, he prepares to dive back down when the body of his friend surfaces, looking to be seemingly unconscious.

Frozen still, surprised at the development.

He can tell now it’s Albatross, the idiot that always laughed at the sailor’s stories of sirens and sea demons. He should’ve reminded himself to be more wary of the blonde’s stubborn idiocy, but that wasn’t a concern quite yet. Swimming to take Albatross’ arms and drag him aboard the rowboat, he nearly misses the golden shine of something staring at him.

One arm slung underneath the blonde’s shoulders and his other hanging over the side of the small boat, he can only feel fascination at the development. What floats there, staring intently at him with piercing ametrine for eyes looks almost more human than anything else. Its face is hard to make out across this little trickling of moonlight, but what he can make out nearly knocks the wind of his lungs. The creature eyes him with curiosity more than anything else before it quickly disappears back to the depths below.

It was one of them, no doubts about it. A siren.

And yet, unlike the stories, it had undoubtedly saved Albatross instead of trying to drown him.

He can take his time contemplating that after Albatross is back aboard. Laying on the deck with his back against the sturdy wooden planks. Sputtering and coughing up the remainder of water that had settled in his lungs. All Chuuya could think about now was how eerily quiet things had become.

“You’re a right idiot. An absolute moron.” Chuuya spits angrily upon the blonde’s waking, who eyes him with a somewhat guilty smile.

“Sorry ahah-“

“Sorry? Sorry?! That’s all you have to say for yourself? You disobey my direct orders- that I’ve given for a reason, and all you can think to say is sorry?”

Albatross doesn’t respond at first. Sighing when he realizes words won’t do him any good in this situation.

“I’ll listen to them from now on ahaha, I promise.”

His head whips around, back to the sea that has becomes somewhat more restless now and mutters a soft “I really didn’t think they were real.”

“That’s clear yeah, because you’re stupid.”

“Ahh, Chuuya give me a break I almost drowned!”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“No-one’s!”

“Wrong, it’s yours. So you better make sure the deck is squeaky fuckin’ clean tomorrow.”

With a sigh he waves Albatross off, stressing for him to lock his cabin door on top of everything else, just as a precaution, though the redhead has a feeling the siren won’t sing again for a while.

His dreams that night are plagued by wild seas, screams of agony from his fellow crewmates, and a flash of ametrine. Waking up next to his bed with sheets littering the floor around him. His head throbs as well, confusion mixing with a dangerous sense of enticement. His reflection in the mirror is as messy as he’d expect, a mess of red hair framing his face completely untamed. The bags underneath his eyes are somewhat contained. The blue sleeveless coat being kept in check with a belt around his waist, a secondary belt settled around his hips from which the pistol and dagger hang for easy access. A white linen shirt with bishop sleeves and dark trousers covered mostly by knee-length boots make up the remainder of his usual attire. His wardrobe isn’t very extensive to begin with, but he's not fond of wearing the same clothes for too long without switching it up, it’s either this or the salty drenched clothes from yesterday for now, so this’ll have to do until they come ashore again to get a proper cleaning done on their fabrics.

It's the one hang-up he has about life at sea, the difficulty in finding hygiene on long trips. His crew is small and they have a home on the land to which they return every so often, to accumulate the wealth they plunder from the king’s merchant ships. The size of the ship’s manning also means they’re not a very combative force against larger brigantines and royal navy ships. Their style is more evasive, sneaking aboard to slit throats one by one, not very pirate-like.

This also makes each and every singular member that much more valuable to him. All of them are his friends (even the stupid ones), and thus he has to ensure their lives aren’t lost meaninglessly.

The deck is lively as always, Piano Man humming a sea shanty that Chuuya has never heard before. He’s greeted by a somewhat frantic-sounding Shirase, begging him through quick words to do something that Chuuya can’t decipher.

“Slow down, what is it?” He asks.

A slow inhale to gather his thoughts and breath, “The davit’s ropes are all messed up, what happened yesterday, did someone go out on sea!?”

It’s almost panicked, and Chuuya has to grip the other’s shoulders and squeeze to gain his focus back.

“Something happened, I handled it. Just focus on fixing it if you can. And if you can’t then let someone else take over.”

“Seriously? What happened?”

“None of your business.” He throws in a wink for good measure, “Just take a look at the maps we procured yesterday if you can, figure out if we can strike any particularly spectacular royal envoys.”

“Shouldn’t we dock at Tortuga first? Kouyou said we’ve got plenty of food stocked, but in all honesty I’m due for an actual clean bath and clothes by now…”

“Shirase?”

“Yes?”

“Do as I say, we can plan out our route after you’ve figured out those maps.”

A sigh, followed by a tired ‘okay’.

His eyes scan the ship’s surface, no sight of Albatross to be found. He figured that asshole would try to wriggle out of his responsibilities and Chuuya isn’t going to let him.

“My, what an extraordinarily- chipper, day it is today.”

He turns to face the owner of said voice, Kouyou stands beside him looking worse for wear.

“Nightmares?” Is all he says.

“When is it not? I did not sleep a single second last night, but unlike some of us I am responsible enough to plug my ears.” She puts the palms of her hands against her ears to emphasize the words and then nods her head towards the bow of the ship. “You should probably get going before he runs off again. As always I would advise a more appropriate punishment than cleaning, but I know you are not a fan of that.”

“You’re right, I ain’t, but I hear you loud and clear. Tell you what, you cross paths with him again you can whack ‘m on the head as hard as you feel like it. Just don’t kill him.”

She giggles while covering her mouth with a tugged sleeve. “But of course, I will remember such” the silence that follows gives him the opening to start making his way towards albatross “oh, and Chuuya?” stopping in his tracks, he only turns his head somewhat to side-eye her

“Yeah?”

“You did a good job handling it yesterday, if what that idiot said is to be believed. So I do hope you are not feeling too shaken up by it.”

Right, that. The whole reason for Albatross’ punishment to begin with.

Chuuya isn’t sure on how to take that compliment, not without spilling the truth of a siren’s involvement in the blonde’s eventual rescue.

He’s stalling the ship for the most part, at the very least until tomorrow, maybe a few more days if he can stretch it as thin as possible.

His eyes fall upon that small island of rock formations, if he were to go there tonight, could he meet that siren again?

Albatross’ back is turned to him as he’s leaning his arms on the railing and looking out to the sea.

“Would’ve figured you’d learned your lesson about standing too close to the edge by now.” Chuuya says, catching the other’s attention.

“It’s quiet now right? I can keep my balance just fine on my own. Really it’s Shirase you should worry about, he’s spent as much time at sea as we have and I still find him throwing up over the side of the boat sometimes!”

Chuuya shivers, “So that’s what that fuckin’ mystery stuff we always scrub off the hull’s side is!? Hey, hold on don’t change the goddamn subject this ain’t about him.” Picking up an empty bucket, he throws it at the blonde, who catches it effortlessly in his hands.

“Woah, careful there Cap’ain, could’ve knocked me overboard with that.”

Chuuya scoffs, “Evidentially you don’t need me for that, get to cleaning, now.”

Ignoring the complaints Albatross hurls at him he turns his back to the other, not forgetting to flip him off as he walks away.

Making way for the quarters he sent Shirase to earlier, not bothering to knock (they’re his quarters after all) Shirase stands hunched over a bunch of maps strewn across the desk. So deep in thought he doesn’t take note of Chuuya’s presence until the captain taps on his shoulder.

“So how’s it going?”

“Let me do my magic first, then you can bother me.” Shirase retorts curtly, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration as his fingers trace past the parchment, quickly scribbling down details he’s caught, ideas that form in his mind.

Shirase isn’t the crew’s brightest member overall, but he has an incredible sense of direction and distance, not to mention his one area of expertise comes in incredibly handy for them. Finding a sailing master was a difficult task for most illegally operating crews, but with Shirase there was little they had to worry about.

He fills out the incomplete maps and plans the best courses, even though Chuuya gets a final say in the decisions.

After what feels like ages, but logically only rings a few minutes at best Shirase lays his tools aside and finally faces Chuuya.

“So?” The redhead asks with his arms crossed.

“I’m still saying we go to Tortuga first, this royal envoy- I don’t know if it’s worth the risk…” Shirase bites his bottom lip, slightly nervous at the prospect of denying Chuuya something he’s been so set on.

The captain takes a moment to contemplate, and then sighs. “Would’ve figured you of all people would like to rush this as badly as me.”

“Under normal circumstances? Hell yeah, I’d love to kick their asses and toss em overboard, but frankly I don’t really want to die either.”

“You sound sure we can’t take ‘em?”

Shirase takes one of the notebooks lying open on the desk, handing it to Chuuya and pointing at  a piece of writing accompanied by rough scribbles.

“It’s not just a merchant ship, it’s a warship too, meaning hundreds of the king’s men will be aboard as well. He clearly doesn’t want this ship to be lost at sea.”

It… makes sense, and Chuuya has to begrudgingly agree they’re in no position to fight a ship that large. He’d hoped it would’ve been a normal run-off-the-mill merchant ship accompanied by warships rather than it being combined into one. Sneaking aboard and taking what was needed was easier when there aren’t hundreds of trained soldiers aboard.

He sighs and throws the notebook down. “Fastest route to Tortuga from here?”

“Three days, give or take.”

“Okay, according to Kouyou we’ve got enough rations to survive for weeks, but the ship could use some maintenance and a good clean-“

Then he turns to face Shirase directly “You can start cleaning your own fuckin’ vomit stains by the way.”

Like a wounded animal, Shirase retreats slowly upon hearing so. “Y-yes sir.” Regaining composure somewhat, he tacks on a “so, when are we leavin’?”

“Dunno yet, there’s some- things I need to figure out too.”

A frown, “We’re sitting ducks like this too y’know?”

“Fully aware, but almost nobody will sail close to this spot.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Chuuya beckons for Shirase to follow him to the back of the quarters, contained in glass windows, and points at the silhouette of that small island sitting near.

“I don’t get it.” the other says while squinting his eyes at whatever he’s been made to look at.

“Sirens.” Chuuya muses. “Everyone knows the kindsa places they hole up in. A ship would get nasty damage ramming into a place like that don’t ’cha think?”

The wheels inside Shirase’s mind turn at large speeds. “How do you know-“

“I heard one, yesterday.”

Instantly, the dark green of Shirase’s eyes grows small as his eyes widen. Lightly shaking “T-then, isn’t that all the more reason to get outta here? Like, right the fuck now?”

Chuuya shakes his head, “We ain’t going anywhere. We’ll be fine.” And with a reassuring pat on the back he leaves Shirase to it, throwing him a somewhat jovial “Just plug yer ears up real nice and tight before hittin’ the sack tonight and you’ll be fine ya whiny baby.”

He needs that chance, tonight or tomorrow, to take the dinghy out and get to that island. He’s almost certain at this point that’s where it’ll be. And he hopes that it’s the same one that saved Albatross.

If that siren had been the one singing, then he’ll be doubly fascinated by it. The mournful, but innocent tones that got carried by the wind had been nothing short of a calming echo through his ears. Part of him wants to hear it again, wants to see the siren again to make sense of why it did what it did.

There’s a busy day ahead of them even with an anchored ship, so he figures he can spend the time helping with the more mundane and everyday tasks too.

*

The night creeps up quicker than expected and when Albatross passes him by this time he gestures silently at his ears and smiles. Chuuya rolls his eyes in return and already feels relief at the blonde taking it more seriously. Nobody questions him going above deck during this time and he takes some time waiting around until he’s almost sure not another soul aboard is still awake. He lowers the dinghy down to the water properly this time and climbs down on the side of the ship, covered in nets and ropes.

As he nears the small island a faint humming starts to settle in his ears. It’s subtle, almost shy. So low it couldn’t be heard from aboard the ship.

The humming turns to singing once he’s close enough for his feet to stand on land. The island is deceptively a lot bigger than it had seemed from afar, spiky rocks lining the  shore like a protective wall, there’s a stream that leads from the sea to what seems to be the center of this place. Past the initial wall of stone lie trees and brush, hiding the way forward. The stream is deep enough to swim through, so he figures the siren could easily travel within it.

A gravelly road makes way for dirt and sand, lush greenery surrounds him on all sides as he follows the direction of the water leading him straight to the source of the song. It’d be eerie and worrisome under most circumstances, but right now it’s a comfort more than anything.

Breaking through a final layer of brush sees him come to a halt at what looks to be the center, the stream divulges into a small lake, amidst which stands another gathering of rock and stone, almost carved like a throne of sorts.

Moonlight reflects multicolored scales , glistening with varying blues and hues of pink and purple. Its back turned to him. Chuuya takes note of the way the siren’s tail seems to swivel back and forth, almost as if instinctually rather than on purpose.

One foot in front of the other, his rigid steps stay quiet and still, gravel cracking under the weight of his feet, but not loud enough to overtake the soothing tones hat fill the otherwise quiet night. The lake is shallow enough to wade through, even if it will make some noise and a ripple could be all the siren needs to take note, still there’s no other way to get close enough. If he reveals himself right now it might get scared and flee, and if it gets hostile he’ll have ample opportunity to defend himself.

Feeling it out sees him realize the water will reach to his waist at its deepest, that’s a risk for sure, but he’s already come all this way so a little water shouldn’t be what stops him.

Wading through further and further, until he can reach out his hand and touch the stone at the center. He’ll have to hoist himself up on the rocks with the lack of a gradual incline.

It’s not that he’s particularly clumsy or lacks the ability to be nimble, that’s usually a strength of his, but through the surprisingly slippery surface and his wet trousers, he can’t find a strong enough hold to keep himself from slipping, cutting his palm on a sharp edge before quickly regaining his posture and finally managing to get settled.

By then it’s already too late, however, as he faces the glowing gold of the siren’s eyes staring at him with an almost panicked look in them.

“Wait-“ He shouts when he can see it backing off and preparing to dive to the water. A splash, and it’s gone from sight.

A muttered, ‘Shit’ berating himself for messing up, but when he climbs up to the spot the siren had sat earlier, he can see it’s still there in the water below. Half-hidden behind cover and peeking back up at him.

Did it understand? Can it speak his tongue?

The siren tilts its head curiously while looking the redhead up and down, waiting patiently for what’s to come.

“You’re- the one from yesterday.” He utters almost to himself, to which the siren visibly responds by nodding its head.

Chuuya inches somewhat closer, settling himself along the edge and sitting down with his legs hanging. “You saved my friend, I wanted to- thank you.”

Was that what it was? He can’t even really recall a motivation at this point, just a desire to see those piercing eyes that remind him of the sunset on the most beautiful days.

The siren opens its mouth, but closes it again without forming any words and ducks further behind its cover. It almost eyes nervous to the pirate. After a few seconds he can hear it, what fills his ears isn’t song, but speech instead. So soft it nearly doesn’t register to him as such to begin with.

“My… fault…” Is what he can make out.

“Your fault? That my friend fell down to the water?”

“Yes.”

So the song he heard belonged to this one. Without a second thought he finds himself blurting out “Your song is a nice one.”

This takes the other by surprise. A whisper of “You’ve… heard it? And you can remember?”

This makes him smile, “I can, your song doesn’t affect me, no siren’s call does.”

Taking a closer look at the siren’s features it dawns on him how much more human it looks than the stories usually describe, its face nearly identical to that of any person he’s met, save for the patches of scales that litter under its eyes and around its cheeks. Short white hair cut asymmetrically framing a pale face with a longer strand on the right side with a singular dark streak running through.

Sirens are supposed to be beautiful and alluring, enticement is what their existence is built on and Chuuya is fully aware of that fact.

And yet he feels no shame or guilt in thinking this siren is the most breath-taking sight his eyes have ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

Drawing nearer, the siren moves effortlessly around in the water despite the shallow depth to it, the slow pace at which it approaches Chuuya only helping to reinforce the first impression settled in his mind.

“You’re not affected by it?” it asks in a whisper and Chuuya responds with a nod.

“I could hear you all the way from the edge of the island.” He smiles when it clasps its hands on its face, hiding the emotions from Chuuya’s sight.

“Ahh I wasn’t supposed to- why are you here?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

Parting its fingers to peek at Chuuya, the siren gives him silent approval to continue.

“I wanted to know why you saved my friend.”

There’s a long and drawn-out silence before it answers. Eyes darting around as if to seek an escape. Then, it whispers again, “I didn’t want- I didn’t want him to die. Especially not because… well… he ended up that way because of-“

Seemingly shame keeps it from finishing its sentence while keeping its eyes trained at the water below to avoid Chuuya’s own.

“You, I get it.” Chuuya finishes for it and pats the spot next to him, “I won’t bite, c’mon.”

A moment of hesitation while he’s being scrutinized by narrowed eyes, “Why?” It asks, voice hoarse with suspicion.

“I came all this way, might as well drag the moment out as long as I can, no?” The redhead shoots back and chuckles.

The siren doesn’t accept the invitation, but doesn’t leave either. Chuuya can’t fully blame it, there’s no reason for the siren to really trust him, as he doesn’t have much reason to trust it either. Still, he ought to start somewhere and this is better than nothing. The fact the siren stays where it is at least clues him in on the fact that there’s an interest at play.

Changing the tactic, he asks a more mundane, less loaded question to alleviate tension. “Do you live here?” while gesturing around him.

“I, do? Kind of?”

“Kind of?”

It doesn’t answer that questioning tone, instead tracing its fingers past stone and rock absentmindedly before finally turning to face Chuuya directly without averting its eyes. “Is he, is he alright?”

It takes a second for Chuuya to realize what the question meant after which he lets out a somewhat short burst of loud laughter, using his whole chest for the act which initially scares the siren into creating more distance.

“Sorry- ahaha, that idiot is absolutely fine. A cockroach that one. Tougher than any vermin I’ve ever seen before for sure.”

Looking at this moment and taking it at face value, there really doesn’t seem to be any danger to the creature that’s in front of him, though rationally speaking he knows it can kill all too easily.

Yet here he is, holding a conversation nearly as normal as any other he’s experienced before.

It’s truly nothing like he’s been led to believe, there’s such a humanity to it that he starts to feel bad thinking of it as less than such.

But would it be comfortable with that comparison?

It’s not until a splash of water washes over him to his left side that he realizes the siren finally joined him ashore, its tail swung over the edge with the end of it still reaching fairly deep in the water. Hands folded together over what passes for a lap. With such a close distance Chuuya can make out all the little details exceptionally well even under the full guise of the dark blue night sky filled with stars.

Long, white lashes cover the solemn expression the siren wears and when Chuuya’s eyes explore the lower half of its body he takes note of the fins, multicolored and extravagant in shape. Even with the otherworldly part of its appearance the redhead can’t help but think of the traits as adding to the picture of beauty that it paints.

“I’m- not very good at- this.” It whispers before facing him, “talking- I mean.”

A confused “You’ve been doing just fine with me?”

The siren shakes its head, then traces a finger past its own throat lightly. “I don’t like it, singing is more comfortable, but also dangerous to others.”

It dawns on the pirate that so far his encounter with the other has been one washed in solitude. There hadn’t been any other sirens and the only call he’s heard was this one’s.

“For what it’s worth, I like your voice regardless.”

He won’t mention the lack of company, nor point out its insecurities.

What he can, and will do, however, is try to extend a hand to the creature, at the very least try to do so.

Bringing one of his knees up to his face and leaning his cheek against it while his face is turned in the siren’s direction. A smile forms and the siren looks to be caught off-guard by it.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“H-huh?” a puzzled look accompanied by a noise over the back of its throat that the redhead can’t place the meaning of. Then it becomes more contemplative, biting on the nail of its thumb.

“I don’t think there’s much to say.” Comes the eventual answer.

“Try, and if you can’t think of anything then ask me instead.”

“I don’t understand, why would you even want to-“ its voice grows somewhat louder now, not quite agitation or annoyance, but the initial shyness ebbs away ever so slowly while making way for some light boldness across its features.

The cat-like grin showing on Chuuya’s own face isn’t lost on the siren, realizing now what he’s trying to do.

“Fine then, human, I’m flattered you’re grateful enough to keep me company, but I’m afraid I cannot make sense of your motivations for still being here.”

“Call it, curiosity.”

“Ah, right, because I’m an anomaly?”

“Can’t deny, I’ve never met a siren before. Nor actually seen one, what I know comes from sailors scared shitless of you, so yeah.” The honesty seems to calm the other down somewhat at least, prompting Chuuya to ask “Have you ever met a human before?”

A shake of its head, “Is it even a proper meeting when I don’t even know your name, sailor?”

It has a sense of humor, cute.

“Chuuya, Chuuya Nakahara.” The redhead gives it. Staring pensively at the redhead the siren seems to think it over.

“What about you though, siren, do you have a name?”

It takes a while for the other to answer and Chuuya realizes names might not carry the same flippant little weight for sirens as they do humans. Maybe sirens don’t have names to begin with? It’s not something he really knows too much about with the stories coming from people who’ve never actually spoken to a siren.

Hell, he’s willing to bet none of them know sirens can speak in their tongue, which leads him to another curiosity. He’ll wait with that though.

The siren’s hands grip tightly around the edge of the surface it sits on, straining the muscles and tensing it’s scrunched shoulders. Chuuya asks if it has a name to begin with and the response comes quick and snappy now.

“Atsushi.”

Atsushi is a nice name, he likes the ring of it and it’s fitting for this siren.

The pupils in those ametrine eyes widen and look at Chuuya through a somewhat fearful veil. Uncertainty clouds the action and it’s for the first time that night that Chuuya realizes it.

‘It’, unconsciously still, Chuuya has been approaching the siren like an animal without rational thought. Not once had his mind sought to correct that, and that attitude had shone through. The suggestive tones of questioning sounding more like an interrogation than a conversation.

It had seemed natural to Chuuya in getting to know the other, but with the way the conversation had flowed it shone through clear as day that Chuuya had let his somewhat disrespectful mindset shine through.

“It’s fine…” Atsushi speaks again, soft like a whisper, but with furrowed brows and a trembling bottom lip like he’s about to burst in tears any second. The pirate has to berate himself internally for causing that reaction, to see Atsushi wanting nothing more than to leave. In the only time his brain works fast enough he acts by taking Atsushi’s wrist before he can jump off, and softly says “I’m sorry.”

It's a person that sits next to him on this moon-lit night, not an animal or a creature. Capable of speech, thinking, taking note of subtleties. He can get offended and hurt just like everyone Chuuya knows.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“But you did. I can’t blame you, but it doesn’t feel good either.” Atsushi’s arms cross in front of his body and he looks uncomfortable.

Chuuya sighs, then an idea hits him. “Will you be here tomorrow?” he asks.

“Tomorrow, the day after that, hell, maybe even the next one-hundred years.” Comes the sarcastic response that makes the redhead chuckle.

“Alright then, Atsushi. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

This time he doesn’t look surprised as a response to Chuuya’s declaration, a smile gracing his face instead, the corners of his lips curled upwards so subtly it almost goes unnoticeable.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting, but you better make good on that promise or I’ll have to hunt you down.” He jokes.

With that, Atsushi lets himself be reclaimed by the sea in a flippant display, letting himself slide off the surface without giving Chuuya the time to respond. The initial shy persona had been quickly replaced with a myriad of other emotions causing excitement to stir from within Chuuya. A wish to pick apart the eccentricities lying underneath the siren’s surface.

The way back to the ship is quiet and tense, thoughts swirling around in Chuuya’s mind like koi inside a small pond, he’s still struggling to get a grip on Atsushi’s personality, but it’s not for a lack of trying. What he does berate himself for, is the insensitivity with which he approached the other, entirely avoidable and very foolish on his end.

If Atsushi had left then and there, Chuuya wouldn’t have blamed him for it.

The ship rings almost hollow and he feels relief about it. Tying the dinghy back to the ropes that hang limply over the side of the ship, he climbs back up over the nets and pulls the small boat up from there, fastening the ropes so it won’t swing too much and hoping it’ll fool the others into making it look unused.

Now comes the hardest part, thinking of a way to convince the others to stick around another day with it being highly irrational at best and a straight up awful idea at worst. Slumping down in the large chair behind the desk inside his main quarters. A loud and drawn-out sigh escapes him, he’ll keep that promise no matter what, but absolutely isn’t looking forward to the way he might have to go about doing so.

For now about all he can do is prepare, make sure the words come out just right, Kouyou and Shirase are the biggest obstacles in this, Albatross, despite his position as quartermaster, wouldn’t be that difficult to convince, but Shirase and Kouyou’s voices carry weight that has the others at least listen somewhat. If only because of their positions on the ship. Kouyou naturally demands respect, Shirase is more reliant on his abilities in the only skill he possesses to a greater extent than anyone else.

Piano Man might be of use in this, if he can convince the older bugger to go along.

Nimble fingers scribble at light speeds inside a little pocket-sized notebook, his own little cheat-sheet to reference for.

If all else fails he can just veto the decision, but he doesn’t like that, it’s not how they’re supposed to operate.

The ships sways lightly on the calming seas as if emulating its captain’s own mental state. The seas have been forgiving lately and it doesn’t sit well with Chuuya, foreboding as it rings. For once the bottle of rum on his desk is left untouched for a night and come morning Chuuya knows to have preferred drinking it in hind-sight. Still, it’s shoved aside in favor of documents and empty parchment.

Looking at the writings of his journal brings back memories  and steels his resolve all the same, reminding him why he’s doing all this.

Merchant ships that carry the king’s seal are easy to recognize, which becomes a double-edged sword for them. On the one hand it means easy docking and free supplies in the port towns and cities under Dostoyevsky’s rule, on the other hand it paints a large target for pirates, especially the kind like Chuuya and his crew, the kind that will do anything to cause even the slightest inconvenience for ‘his royal asshole’.

The pages crumple under the weight of Chuuya’s grip on them. A reminder that his emotions have a life of their own and he loses control over them more often that he’d prefer to admit.

Flipping to an empty page to let loose on it with the quill in his hand. Sketching what he remembers to be so fond of. It’s colorless, but the striking pupils and uniquely crafted beauty are clear to see, his artistic skill could never reach the levels necessary to capture the true form of a siren, especially not one so captivating and mesmerizing as Atsushi. Still he prevails, page after page, trying to mimic the perfection of the gods themselves with mere ink and paper.

The risk it poses lost on him, this moment becomes his version of a trance. The failures of the songs being made right with a simple gaze stolen upon that person. One glance is all it took for him to start falling into depths unbeknownst to him. It’s the allure of a siren, but what really caught him was the attitude with which Atsushi carried himself.

Chuuya hadn’t had a day in the past ten or so years that he looked forward to, spending time drowning memories in wine and rum in hopes to forget why he came to this place only to wake up in the morning with cold sweat trickling past his face and the deep discomfort of the nightly woes. He never remembers the imagery of the night upon waking, but they’re etched into his skin so deeply that feeling the effects still comes natural to him.

That night he sleeps undisturbed and wakes feeling a soft veil of comfort draped over him.

Chapter Text

With a cheek planted firmly against the surface of his desk and a trail of drool from his mouth he didn’t make for the best sight currently, which would’ve been fine had he not been found by Kouyou of all people.

A worrying glance shot his way while Chuuya attempted to rub his eyes clean from sleep, Kouyou clears her throat accusingly.

“What were you up to last night?” She asks.

Chuuya feigns innocence almost as well as he holds his liquor, which is to say: not at all.

“Right here, behind my desk.” He says while his eyes flit between the varying corners of the room. Kouyou sighs and gracefully sets the palms of her hands on her hips before looking him over more intently.

“You are as good of a liar as I am capable of standing drunken sailor flirting. Please do not attempt such foolish actions with me.”

“Well you’re gonna have to take my word for it on this one, because I really wasn’t doin’ anything interesting enough to warrant your inspection.”

Off to a great start, astounding really. The notebook catches his attention in the corner of his vision, still upturned with blank pages staring at him. It’s not entirely intentional but he thanks the stars that he hadn’t left it open on any of the pages he’d worked on yesterday. Neither his habit of artistry nor the visage of a siren inside his notebook were things he wanted discovered at this moment. Only Shirase knew of the former, and Chuuya would like to keep it that way.

Now was a better time than he’d get to try and convince Kouyou for an extra day too, by weaving honesty through the words he might be able to fool her without revealing the intent, or so he hopes.

“Now you’re here, there’s something I need to discuss.” He states with bold voice. Kouyou raises an eyebrow at that, his tone having caught her interest.

“Do go on.” She responds while leaning her body on her hip at the left side.

She’s direct, straight to the point, Chuuya knows he won’t get anywhere with her by trying to spin long-winded tales.

“I wish to stay anchored here for a day longer.”

Pause.

She shakes her head in confusion, “You, what?”

He re-iterates, they have to stick around to prepare more. Admitting (through a half-truth) that he struggles to make a final decision on where to go from here.

They’ve got the supplies to last, and maybe if they can observe the envoy they can identify a weakness.

Kouyou listens to him quietly, nodding her head occasionally to indicate that she’s still checked in to what he’s saying.

“I understand that…” She finally says when he looks to be done, pensively. “I am unsure about staying here though.”

“It’s on the envoy’s route, if we decide to pursue it, then it’s easier to be here than Tortuga.”

“You are correct, still- are you certain it’s safe?“

“I promise I’ll have a decision by tomorrow, I still need to go by Albatross, and Shirase for this, but if you back me up it’ll be easier.”

“Oh I’m certain it would, for that blonde whore you would not need to put in the effort at all.”

Chuuya can’t contain the light chuckle that escapes him at Kouyou’s referral to their mutual friend and crewmate. Resident (wo)manizer and the first person to learn that Kouyou is not up for the antics of men. Ever since he tried to pick her up the ‘traditional way’ and failed so miserably she had no choice but to become fascinated enough to see where on earth this stray dog hailed from, she became a part of their little band of rag tag idiots soon enough.

Not without it permanently affecting Albatross’ reputation however, now being known as the guy who failed so miserably to pick up a person of interest that she became a pirate instead.

Granted, Chuuya doesn’t actually know what she used to do before turning her life around either. Kouyou never spoke of it and wasn’t fond of people asking either.

Spinning on her heel and strutting towards the cabin’s door, she issues him a final ‘warning’ of sorts, indicating she isn’t fully on board with him yet, “Find a better way to please Shirase, he will not take to what I have to say, and if his reactions yesterday are anything to go by I think he is very desperate to get out of here, on account of- well.” She cocks her head towards the direction of the island.

“Thanks for-“ a door slams shut. “-the warning.”

Well, she’s busy. Also doesn’t appreciate Chuuya’s poor attempts at lying evidentially.

Dragging himself along, he’s forced to think about the actions to take from here on out. He has no intentions of going after the envoy. They don’t have the resources no matter how badly he wants to screw the greedy king over.

Maybe if they had a siren’s call-

His eyes light up when the idea hits him, if they can get Atsushi to come with then he could help them out a lot-

If he’s willing to.

It’s an idea that he files away in a little mental drawer for later, but for now he has to keep the ship from taking off.

He has to admit it feels awfully quiet and off when they’re not sailing. He’d grown accustomed to life at sea to such a degree that being on land for too long caused heartache. However this journey had gotten started, he really fell hard for the lifestyle. Shirase was different with not being particularly fond of it. Chuuya knew his closest friend wasn’t always eager to leave land whenever they docked anywhere for a few days. It’s for his sake that the redhead often decided on extending their stays, but sooner or later he’d grow to miss the swaying surface of the deck and having his hair messed up by howling sea breezes. The ship itself was fashioned to their liking, building and re-building over the years to accommodate every single one’s preferences and tastes. Their crew so small it didn’t warrant a common sleeping area.

Opening the door to his quarters leads to a hallway with more doors on both sides, most of which lead to rooms occupied by the varying individuals that shared their lives with this ship. It’s almost like a tavern or inn.

The door on the left closest to him leads to an unoccupied room. Chuuya had been thinking about what to do with it, to leave it empty in case anyone would join them even if he struggles to think of the idea that anyone would be joining them. They’re comfortable this way, surviving all these years because of the strong bonds of trust they’d forged.

The last time someone joined them had been two years ago, a fellow by the name of Tachihara Michizou, former merchant grown jaded with the kingdom’s increasingly harsh taxes on independent business owners. The captain can’t blame him for that and finds solidarity with the wish to fuck over those in power.

Colorful splashes of paint decorate each door leading to an occupied quarter, each one indicating exactly whom it belonged to without even so much of a name spelled out. Chuuya’s was the only one that remained plain, but his didn’t need it either.

The hallways divulges into a large common room, fashioned into some sort of make-shift canteen. Each table littered with empty mugs which used to hold rum or pints. Some of the men preferred to drink grog, which utterly baffled the young captain because he couldn’t touch the stuff even if he had to for survival. Spoiled rotten water mixed with alcohol does nobody any good.

Looking around the space, he might do as others have done before and purchase some chickens during their next trip to Tortuga. Grain can stay relatively well for months on end if stored well, and the eggs would spice up their meals a little bit. So far he's refused only because the prospect of taking care of animals seemed like it wasn’t the most ludicrous idea. Now it was something he might like to entertain, if only because the sight of a nice meal with eggs instead of biscuits hard enough to crack stone in half was pretty nice.

Shirase sits at a table at the very end of the room, opposite to where Chuuya is. His gestures are wild and eye-catching as he always makes them and the redhead can’t resist rolling his eyes at the display.

“Oh, Chuuya there you are.” He says when Chuuya approaches. The tankard is dropped to the table and nearly falls over, spilling the contents.

“Woah, calm down there big guy.” Tachihara yells as the liquid inside sloshes over the edge, leaving small stains on his clothes.

“Something wrong?” Chuuya raises an eyebrow while Shirase crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“No, not really, I just need to know when we’re setting sail again. I’m ready to get outta here.”

Chuuya bites his bottom lip while his eyes search for Kouyou in hopes of her support. When he can’t find her his shoulders droop a little as he sighs heavily.

“I was about to- talk to ya about that, actually…” His words trail as Shirase’s expression grows more irritated with every one he speaks.

“Chuuya-“

“Just, hear me out okay. Last night was fine right? We’re in no danger. I’m pretty sure the darn thing is gone, didn’t hear a peep last night.”

His friend doesn’t seem very convinced. Shirase wasn’t the easiest to get along with for most people, but Chuuya had grown used to his temperament.

“I don’t wanna stay here any longer.” He shoots back, gritting his teeth and keeping his voice low as to not alert anyone, “I don’t get what reason you could possibly have for leaving us anchored in the middle of nowhere, what on earth are you thinking?!”

Admittedly, he isn’t thinking, not entirely. Chuuya knows what he’s asking is irrational and unfair on all accounts. It’s his wish to see Atsushi, no-one else’s. It’s highly selfish and utterly devoid of logic.

Yet he yearns it so, desperately wishes to see the siren again. A primal need unlocked in his brain that can only be satiated by following the thread to where it leads, the carrot on a stick leading him down a foggy maze.

Whether he’ll get stuck there or find his way out is entirely uncertain as of now, but he can plunge in the deep end and drown on his own if that’ll help him figure it out.

Maybe Chuuya was affected by the call of a siren, just in wholly unexpected and different ways.

“There’s a reason. We’re on the route the envoy will take, I’m trying to plan for that, see if we can find a way to hit it our usual way.”

“Bullshit, you know we can’t, Chuuya. I know you ain’t stupid.”

“Just give it one more day, please?”

With his teeth firmly clamped together Shirase looks at him, brows furrowed and eyes narrow.

“If anything, and I mean anything happens like before with a siren’s involvement it’ll be entirely on your shoulders, you got that? Oh, and if anyone asks why the hell we’re sticking around longer I will promptly re-direct them towards you. It ain’t gonna be my funeral if these guys get restless.”

“Restless, why would we?” Albatross chimes in and slings an arm around Shirase’s shoulder while sending Chuuya a smirk. “You need to learn to relax a bit little guy.” A hand ruffles through Shirase’s silver hair, messing his no-doubt hours worth of work in front of the mirror (as he always does, every morning).

“H-hey cut that out! It was perfect like that!”

Albatross sticks a thumbs up out to Chuuya “Anything you wanna do cap’ain, I’ll be ‘on board’ with.” Sending it off with an obnoxious wink that allows the redhead a breath of release.

“Right you lazy shit, thanks.”

The space fills with Albatross’ loud, obnoxious laughter the sound of which comforts Chuuya more than anything, still he adds for good measure “Don’t forget to take care tonight though.”

“I thought you said the siren was gone?” Shirase says.

“Does that suddenly mean you shouldn’t take care?” Chuuya responds and claps on the other’s shoulder for good measure.

The scene unfolding in front of him reminds him to bring some food along for the siren tonight as well. While unsure as to what Atsushi can, can’t and will or won’t eat, he can give it a shot and at least try to make up for his insensitive attitude.

The day couldn’t go by any faster for him. Spending it desperately trying to keep his mind off of things (and failing miserably at it too) so when the veil of stars covers the dark night sky he couldn’t be happier to greet the moon. Usually night-time meant either no travel or slow travel, sirens  were provably more active during that time. The limited vision made it easier to lure ships into crashing and keeping themselves as mere ghosts of the sea while doing so. He’d never been particularly fond of darkness and the moon because of it even through his unaffected mind. While the siren songs were a nice thing to listen to, they were also intended to kill more often than not. What happened to Albatross yesterday was exactly that, a reason to lay low at night and take careful steps instead of rushing ahead.

Sailors learn to fear the night, and even if Chuuya doesn’t fear it, he had never been a fan of it either. Cold claws outstretching themselves and winding around everything in sight with the purpose of suffocating all they touch.

Scales glistening blue and silver under that very same moon though, those acted more like a comforting beacon of light. Leading him exactly where he needed to go and finding confidence in saying that wherever he’ll end up will be safe.

He’s really god it bad.

Still he gets on that boat when the silence deafens and an icy night air pricks his skin. This time loaded with some carefully prepared meals. There wasn’t a lot of it, but what there was came with Chuuya’s assurance of at least being edible, except the dry biscuit maybe.

He takes the same route, hauling the sack through thick green brush until he’s back at the centre. And just as before, Atsushi sits on the rock in the middle. The difference is that he’s faced with the other’s eyes instead of his back this time.

The siren lays somewhat comfortably, the tip of his tail dipping inside the pool beneath and his arms crossed on the surface beneath him. He doesn’t audibly respond to seeing Chuuya, but the redhead swears he can see the golden-violet lights become just a little brighter once he’s spotted.

“You really- came back.” Atsushi states somewhat dumbfounded, tilting his head in curiosity.

Chuuya laughs through his nose, “Yeah, I promised didn’t I?”  and throws the sack he’d been carrying atop the stone before climbing up himself. Atsushi shifts his position to make more space and for the first time Chuuya can get a really good sense of just how long the siren’s tail really is. It’s funny to hear stories of sirens that never mention their size, it gives people wildly differing ideas of how small or big they’re supposed to be. Chuuya had always kind of assumed they’d be around as big as the average human ought to be, but measuring it this way he can confidently say Atsushi easily passes two meters, easily.

“You’re staring…” The siren mutters lowly before Chuuya realizes how long his silence had lasted.

“Sorry.” He blurts out.

Atsushi lifts his upper body up, supporting it on the palms of his hands set against the surface. His tail curls a little, making himself look a lot smaller this way.

“You really thought I wouldn’t come back huh.” The redhead absentmindedly muses and Atsushi nods.

The siren always keeps his voice low, barely above a whisper. Chuuya finds his voice soothing even when he speaks up, even without song.

“I still fail to understand why you would… what you’re set to gain from it.”

“I don’t gain anything, you fascinate me and I want to know you.”

Atsushi blinks, surprise clouding his face before a soft “Why?” is whispered Chuuya’s way.

From what he can gather, Atsushi isn’t very confident in himself. There’s more there, more he can’t really place yet. It’s difficult to get a reading on the siren’s personality, as colourful as his tail and so layered that an onion pales in comparison.

Chuuya barely managed to peel back the surface and he already wants to see through them all and find his core.

They sit and talk for a while, about meaningless fluff, about everyday life, Chuuya talks about his friends, Atsushi doesn’t have any to mention.

It’s when Chuuya spins tales of Albatross’ grandiose stupidity that he can really see a spark of interest fill those ametrine eyes. Joyous glints that translate to short laughs and huffs leading into long bouts of jovial roars. He likes the stories, and he finds them as fascinating as Chuuya finds him.

After Chuuya tells him the story of Kouyou and Atsushi contains his laughter for the umpteenth time that evening, that’s when Chuuya learns the first bit of trivia, wholly unexpected.

“I can’t even imagine what you’d have to do to mess up that badly. Please enlighten me as to how one does that.”

“Oh,” Chuuya snorts “you just have to be really bad at being charming, or having no social skills. It’s pretty common honestly.”

He remembers the hundreds of attempts at himself around the various taverns around Tortuga. Visiting noblemen, women, barmaids, tavern owners. He’s had all manner of person approach him in attempts to woo him, and none of them have ever caught his interest before.

Now he’s starting to think it’s really him that is the problem, seeing as how easily charmed he was by Atsushi. Its not even so much the things that Atsushi says that get to him, he’s only known him for a day, but something so deep and nigh supernatural gnaws at him every time the siren opens his mouth or flutters his eyelashes.

It’s not just the siren’s unmatched beauty either.

There are forces at play here that are larger than himself. So when Atsushi observes and the corners of his lips turn upwards, Chuuya isn’t expecting an answer.

“I guess such a thing just doesn’t apply to us. I really can’t imagine what it’s like to talk to someone and fail so dismally. That’s never happened down below.”

Chuuya can’t help but ask, the clarifying questions in his head too loud to ignore.

“Oh, it’s like- imagine it this way,” Atsushi starts and taps his chin pensively, “we are made to charm, both humans and other sirens alike. It’s in our core? Our nature, so to speak. I could not fail at it even if I actively tried to.”

“So that’s what this buzzing in my head is then? Your spell on me.” Chuuya jokes lightly and Atsushi blinks in surprise.

“Is that what that feels like to you? I’m sorry, I hope it’s not annoying.”

Now Chuuya lets out his own roar of laughter, “No! I was joking.” He manages through the joyous breaths, trying to control himself and failing to do so.

“I don’t actually feel or hear anything strange when you talk. Your voice is pretty nice actually.”

“Oh..” Despite the dark surrounding them Chuuya can tell the siren’s face turning a deep shade of red before whispering a low “You’re pretty good at it too it seems…”

Almost too soft for Chuuya to hear, almost.

He doesn’t comment on that nor the current state of the other’s face. Letting Atsushi believe in the safety of the dark as to keep his comfort intact.

As if trying to change the subject Atsushi points at the sack and asks, “What’s that for.”

Chuuya has to resist the urge of another joke, instead speaking the truth.

“I just brought some food, different things and all. Figured you might like giving it a try? I Honestly don’t even know what you eat usually…” He trails the sentence as he looks down in the water below where small shadows move under its surface.

And Chuuya really can’t help himself when he sets his elbows against the rocky surface he lays on and dips his chin into the spaces of his upturned palms while looking at Atsushi with a smug grin plastered on his face, “Is that considered cannibalism?” He gestures towards the fish minding their own business below and Atsushi sputters before pouting.

“I don’t- hey I never said I ate those!”

“Would it be, though?”

“No!”

Atsushi takes the sack with a swift and quick motion, turning it upside down to let the contents spill. Craning his neck to look at every single item on display, his nose scrunches up in visible disgust.

“This is food?” He asks.

“It’s what passes for food on the seas.” Chuuya answers with a light chuckle.

Atsushi picks up the biscuit and inspects it “This seems- how do I put it,“ he slams it on the rocks, letting out a small noise of confusion when it doesn’t break “Not edible.”

“Anything is edible if you’re brave enough”

“I don’t think I’m brave enough. I think I prefer gnawing on seaweed over this, which says a lot.”

“Not a fan?”

“It’s so bitter and, slimy-“

“Then what do you eat, little fish?”

Atsushi doesn’t answer, instead he picks up a slab of salted beef that Chuuya had cooked beforehand, holding it up between his thumb and pointer finger while looking at it.

“What is this?” He asks after a bit of silent contemplation.

“Beef, meat from a cow.”

A blank stare, “What’s that?”

Oh, right. That made sense. Obviously Atsushi wouldn’t have access to the exact same knowledge as he did, he figured the siren knows everything there is to know about the sea and what it houses, but land creatures that usually don’t make it to sea would be a new experience for him.

Evidentially some sailors and pirates brought cows along on their ships for milk and eventual consumption, but Chuuya’s ship wasn’t big enough to really take care of one or multiple of them, you’d need at least a brig for that in his mind, so their little schooner wouldn’t do for that purpose.

“It’s an animal that lives on land, big fellas that give milk and taste pretty good.”

Atsushi drops the slab of meat when he’s told that, almost as if in shock. He turns to look at the other food items in front of him but doesn’t pick anything up again

“Not a fan of meat?” Chuuya questions, to which the siren dutifully responds.

“I don’t eat animals…”

Oh, interesting.

“No meat or fish?” Atsushi shakes his head.

“There’s a lot of plant-life down there, I’ll eat seaweed if I have to though… even if it’s a little gross…”

Chuuya tries to imagine the taste of it, seaweed never looked particularly appetising to him, but he might be inclined to say he’d try it if he were starving. His fingers curl around a small jar, the scent of which becomes overwhelming when opened as he holds it out to the siren. Atsushi takes a whiff and quickly backs away. “What is that?”

“Pickled fruit. Kinda sour and a bit salty, but far better than that biscuit in your hand, plus, no meat.” Chuuya smiles, knowing exactly how bullshit that statement it. Even after eight years of this life, his palate has never quite adjusted to the food it brings. That’s perhaps what he looks forward to the most every time they dock. Finding a restaurant or tavern that serves food which doesn’t taste like it was dunked in seawater and left there for hours on end.

Atsushi eyes the jar carefully, bringing his hand to the opening slowly and picking a piece out of it. He inspects it like it’s entirely foreign to him. With much hesitance he opens his mouth to take a small bite, revealing a row of sharp teeth that Chuuya is certain were made to tear through even the toughest flesh with ease.

The siren swallows the piece slowly, shuddering after doing so and sticking his tongue out in response. “Sour is an understatement! You- you eat this? Every day?” His expression looks down-right horrified at the thought and Chuuya can’t resist the urge to laugh all too well.

“There’s not much to do with food on the go I’m afraid. If it weren’t pickled it would’ve spoiled months ago, and eating spoilt food is about the dumbest thing ya can do at sea. Next to drinkin’ the sea’s water.”

“Yeah that seems unwise, so what do you drink?”

A smirk, “Me? Partial to wine, sometimes rum if I feel like it.”

“I don’t know what that is, is it good?”

“Depends, wine definitely, Rum not so much but getting’ shitfaced is nice every once in a while.”

“Shitfaced?”

“Drunk.”

Atsushi still doesn’t seem to understand what that means. Judging by his body language he’s trying not to let it show (and failing).

So chuuya sets one of his fingers against his temple, “It’s alcohol, that stuff fucks your brain up here. Makes ya feel al woozy and strengthens your emotions. Takes away the control of yourself for just a bit too.”

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

Chuuya shrugs, “It feels good, my head gets more rest when I don’t need to think about anything for a bit. Drinkin’ a little bit doesn’t matter much though. It’s not like one drop gets you like that.”

Atsushi drags himself a little closer to Chuuya, his face still lower than Chuuya’s own he looks up at the redhead through worried eyes. “Is it really okay if you feel the need to do that?” He asks. The atmosphere shifts and Chuuya averts his eyes to look away from the siren in front of him.

Is he okay? No, definitely not, but that’s not something he ought to bother Atsushi with. It’s nobody’s responsibility but his. He’ll be fine as long as his nights aren’t haunted by the prickling sensation of flashing orange threatening to consume him and everything around him. To claim his body and turn it to dust, for his existence to become nothing but ashes spreading through the harsh breeze of Yokohama.

He doesn’t dream about that often, but when he does, he wakes feeling like a thousand needles were stuck inside his skin on every part of his body. A deep discomfort that seeks to keep him shaken up and awake until the release of death claims him like it tried to before.

And he won’t let it, not like that.

A deep breath, he exhales “Little siren I don’t need you to worry about me. There’s far more important shit for you to fret over than me.”

Atsushi’s tilts his head while narrowed eyes look him over. The touch comes unexpected when Atsushi’s hand caresses the side of Chuuya’s face.

“I don’t really have anything going on in my life, so fretting over you beats doing nothing.” He says with a wistful voice.

It’s the deafening silence on this island that really seeps through his skin now. Holing up inside the spaces of his mind where it starts to howl in whispers.

There’s not a single living soul here aside from them, not a single living soul for Atsushi to find comfort with. Atsushi can’t communicate with fish, he’s figured as much. The darkness seeks to add to that sense of discomfort and all of a sudden Chuuya starts to think about how horrid it’d be to spend every night on your own in silence with nobody to turn to when the going gets tough and the mind becomes a treacherous enemy instead.

Atsushi has nobody, that wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration, he was truly alone.

It was no wonder the siren had been simultaneously so hesitant to let Chuuya approach him, and also so eager to latch himself onto the redhead as well.

Atsushi draws away from him, looking uncomfortable before raking his scale-covered fingers through his hair, his head turned away to make his attention seemingly focused elsewhere when he opens his mouth,

“I’m- sorry, by the way…” He starts, confusing the redhead.

“Whatever for?”

“I got a little, snippy with you, yesterday. I shouldn’t have, it wasn’t fair… it makes perfect sense for you to have your questions, as I do mine.”

Fondness washes over Chuuya as he watches the siren nervously play with his hair while desperately trying to avoid his gaze.

“You were worried about that all evening, little siren?”

A nod, to which Chuuya continues “I don’t blame you, I don’t think your reaction was disproportionate anyway. So no worries there.”

Relief seeps through that frame upon hearing those words and Atsushi eyes him with less worry swimming around behind his surface. Still a part remains that brings Chuuya to worry for the little siren.

Tomorrow he leaves, tomorrow the ship takes off and Atsushi would be left all alone again. A prospect that Chuuya isn’t all too happy with all things considered. If he could he’d like to keep Atsushi close, if only to satiate the siren’s growing and intense loneliness, and maybe his own desires too.

That’s selfish and unwise, however. Atsushi is a person, not a pet to be kept in a cage. Chuuya would never even entertain that idea, but he can’t help but feel guilty over the fact that the thought so much as briefly crossed his mind.

“Hey, Atsushi.” He takes the other’s attention with that instantly.

“Yes?” Atsushi responds.

“Be honest with me, are you… attached to this place?”

Atsushi shakes his head and the next words that form on Chuuya’s lips are difficult to speak a promise unspoken that he inadvertently decides to bind himself to.

“Then come with me. I can’t stay here, but you can trail the ship easily. Every night I can sneak off board, we can keep doing this- whatever this is.”

Atsushi’s eyes widen and the glint inside them brightens to hitherto unseen levels with the warmth of a sunset reflecting inside them while looking over Chuuya’s form at the idea. He beams like he’s never been offered an extended hand before and it’s an instant shout of “Yes!” that catches the redhead both off-guard and makes his fondness grow ever deeper.

Atsushi has nothing to keep him tethered here, and Chuuya wants to alleviate the siren’s loneliness because his fascination has only became more intense with every exchanged word between them.

It may very well be the magic of a siren’s charm, artificial interest conjured up by the gods to entrance even him into the bottom of the ocean eventually, but if he is to fall, then maybe this might not be the worst way to go either.

Their ship’s rule is to stop at night, it’s something they’ve chosen for themselves to adhere to even if not the most practical, but it’s also what allowed them to survive for this long. Never had their ship rammed into rocks and neared sinking, never have they fought hard battles for their lives while worrying about songs leading them to their deaths.

And now that also made it easier for Chuuya to let Atsushi accompany them without a single soul knowing.

While his tail swivels back and forth, Atsushi happily takes Chuuya’s outstretched hand in confirmation. Eagerly taking to him and the promise of some more light to his life. Chuuya will ask the siren about his song later, for now all he wants is to alleviate Atsushi’s loneliness.

Chapter Text

The third day finally broke and when Chuuya announces that they’ll make way for Tortuga he can see the barrage of relieved faces all across the deck. Nobody questions him on how he came to his decision this time, but he does stress that mooring at the island will mean the ship’s hull is getting a good cleaning. The groans that fill the open air in response are more subtle than the earlier cheers, but Chuuya doesn’t care since the maintenance to the ship is just as important as their rations are. He takes the wheel himself this time, a rare occurrence even though he knows how to do it perfectly well.

Lippmann stands next to him, silent but seemingly pleased with his arms slung over the railing and overseeing the deck below them.

“I won’t ask questions, but there’s gonna be a lot of them who will, you know?” he says almost unintentionally and Chuuya scoffs.

“They can feel free to, I’ll tell them if they do.”

Lippmann narrows his eyes just a little, “Well I’d start practising in the mirror then because you do make a terrible liar, Chuuya.” The smile forming on his lips small and subtle before holding his hand out, palm faced down at Chuuya’s middle, “You have been ever since you were, thiiis little.” He smirks when Chuuya’s face turns to a pout, then more akin to anger.

“I’d watch it if I were you-“

“Yeah, yeah. I know how dangerous you can be.” A shrug of his shoulders before smirking, “but you wouldn’t hurt us for real. That’s what sets you apart from other captains in this business.”

Chuuya raises an eyebrow, “I didn’t know you had experience with pirating before, Lippmann? Don’t tell me you cheated on me with other captains while I was out exploring Tortuga, how cruel.”

Lippmann laughs and strikes a hand over his heart, making a small bow. “I wouldn’t dare!” then his eyes find Chuuya’s and the smile falters, “None of us would betray you. We’re here because we’ve chosen to sail to the ends of the earth with you if we must. There’s no point otherwise.”

Chuuya waves him off, “Okay you can stop getting all sentimental on me. Not a good look on you, that’s Albatross’ job.”

“That oaf wouldn’t know how to spell sentimental if you asked him to write it down.”

“And yet I see you leave his room more than just occasionally in the mornings, curious.”

A playful jab to his shoulder to express Lippmann’s fake offense, but the blonde doesn’t elaborate or comment on it further as to not dig himself deeper.

It’s been a long time, he knows that and he trusts all of them with his life. Some days it feels like no time has passed since he and Shirase were two scared teens on the streets of Yokohama and doing anything to survive, maybe that’s where the preference to this life over an honest one came from. It’s not like he’s never experienced what that’s like, but in his experience nobody wins when trying to play fair.

it almost feels wrong to keep secrets despite them being so natural for anyone. Lying feels worse, but telling the truth will end in a mess that Chuuya isn’t yet prepared for.

Standing behind the wheel is something he doesn’t often do, but now that he’s here he starts to wonder why that came to be when he’s reminded of how fun it is to observe his rag-tag band of idiots this way. He enjoys their shenanigans and idiocy more than he’s cared to admit and if anyone were to ask he’d vehemently deny enjoying it at all.

Albatross moves like he speaks, loud, boisterous and in ways that can’t help but take your attention instantly. He’s always the most eye-catching person in the room. Lippmann is a contrast to him in that his movements are restrained and practised, but nonetheless designed to demand your attention in much subtler ways. There’s no doubt that out of anyone here right now, Lippmann is the best at donning masks of characters that aren’t his. He’s the guy that provides the distractions with well-placed lies, the one who can cry on command to earn sympathy that is in no way deserved. Lying comes natural to him with Chuuya’s unwavering trust in him being the result of years of observation and studying. Chuuya can pick apart his acts like no other can with the sole exception of Albatross, who is despite his exterior, deviously observant and intuitive.

Yuan and Kouyou always seem to stick close whenever they’re not doing anything in particular, Chuuya chalks it up to them being the only two women aboard the ship and finding shared joy in watching the men fumble their attempts at flirting with the women in cities and towns they stay at. Chuuya knows they find their endless fascination in making it a long and drawn-out painful memory for those unfortunate enough to be witnessed by them with their favourite victim being Shirase, who has never had a successful attempt at wooing any man or woman in his life. Shirase would vehemently deny having ever had any interest in a man, but Chuuya knows him better than that.

Shirase and Doc are most often below deck, Doc isn’t fond of the sunlight beating down his neck and as the only person aboard with medical expertise Chuuya refuses to antagonise the man, it’s thanks to doc that they’re able to sustain the injuries that they do without ‘suffering an infection and dying’. Chuuya knows vaguely what that means because of the vast book-collection his parents entertained, whenever he got bored picking up a book and reading from the most interesting chapters was a hobby of his. It’s for this that Chuuya is well-read and especially more so compared to the others minus Shirase and Kouyou. He and Shirase had an education, Doc had one (he hopes, he’s never asked), he doesn’t know what Kouyou was up to before but she can read and write perfectly well. Albatross and Lippmann can but with a lot of trouble and errors.

Yuan, Piano Man, and Ice Man can’t to his knowledge, and Tachihara? Chuuya has to admit to himself that’s the one they know the least about. He’s never seen him read a book, but then again none of them have seen Chuuya read one and he can do it just fine.

The trip to Tortuga will last three days, two nights free for him to check in on Atsushi, whom he knows to be close by deep beneath the surface. Chuuya’s ship is recognisable even from below the surface of the water due to the custom paint job that keeps getting eaten away by the salt, they re-do it every time it starts to wash off too much and it becomes something different each time. Sometimes he just lets them all go crazy as long as the imagery isn’t too crass. Chuuya is no prude but he does want the ship to at least convey a sense of dignity.

Passing by landmarks they recognise all too well lets him in on the fact they’re making more speed than usual. That’s favourable at the very least, but even with this speed they won’t risk it and by the time the day makes way for night the ship has been halted and anchored again. It’s like that every night with Chuuya keeping watch over the horizon to ensure they don’t become sitting ducks for particularly brave pirates or sailors.

The tell-tale signs of peace and quiet are his mark to let him know it’s safe to go. He’d made sure to steer the ship close to a small island when preparing to moor, it’ll make anchoring easier and allows him the space to sit comfortably while entertaining the company of the new presence in his life.

The small boat pushes against the sand and when Chuuya can tell it’s deep enough in there not to be washed away so easily he gets out. Atsushi sits somewhere to his right on stone, waiting with outstretched arms comfortably laying across the heat-filled rocks. The sun having burned them all day, Chuuya can still feel the warmth long after the setting sun left his view. Atsushi jolts as if having been asleep and uncurls his tail.

“You okay?” Chuuya asks, wondering if the siren was unused to traveling for so long. Atsushi’s smile is light when he returns a “I’ll manage.” Followed by a toothy grin.

Overlooking the sea past the moored ship, Atsushi’s eyes cloud with something distant that Chuuya can’t place.

“I haven’t gone this far away from home before. Ever.” He says almost as if on accident.

“Home?” Chuuya returns.

A sigh, “Hard to explain, and not really a story I’d like to tell.”

“Oh,” Chuuya starts, “then we won’t talk about it, it’s as easy as that.”

The grateful look he gets doesn’t go unnoticed. Atsushi isn’t one to take for granted what he has and Chuuya can appreciate that.

The siren hums lowly and Chuuya closes his eyes and sways to the rhythm, after a moment the sound stops and when he opens his eyes again he finds the gold of Atsushi’s eyes firmly trained on him.

“It really doesn’t affect you at all.” He flatly states.

“It really doesn’t.” Chuuya grins back.

There’s a shine in the siren’s eyes, the realisation that he can’t endanger Chuuya with his voice.  

“Are you, afraid to use it?” Chuuya concludes. Atsushi’s eyes avert for a quick second, uncertainty clouds them.

“I’m afraid of hurting people for starters.” Is what he says first, the long pause makes Chuuya think there’s more to it, but Atsushi looks stuck on what to say at first.

“Having people drawn to me that way is.. discomforting to say the least.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and Chuuya finds the siren shrinking in attitude. He looks so much smaller now while memories that the redhead can’t perceive plague the other’s mind.

“Taking someone’s free will away is one thing, but you can’t even control what people will do when you do it. They get desperate and do anything to reach you, that’s the siren’s curse. It’s why boats run against rock and break, and why men and women jump overboard without a second thought, but if you do it when they have a clear and easy path to you?”

He shivers and stops mid-sentence, Chuuya doesn’t need to imagine what it is that plagues the recesses of his mind upon hearing that.

“So I don’t like to use it unless I know there’s nobody there, but…” he eyes Chuuya from the corner and his attitude changes, “it doesn’t affect you at all, you’re fine even with hearing my voice like that?”

It’s an almost puppy-like attitude Atsushi gives when looking at Chuuya and he has to actively ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest upon seeing it. That something so small such as this could have such a big impact on someone surprises him, but it’s a good feeling regardless.

They sit and talk for a bit, Chuuya listens to Atsushi sing softly when the wind carries their voices in the direction away from the ship. It’s nice and almost completely normal in feeling.

That doesn’t take away from the fact that Atsushi isn’t human and Chuuya still has many questions regarding the nature of sirens and everything that sets them apart from humans aside from a surface level.

Atsushi isn’t always eager to answer, the siren has a lot of secrets and isn’t fond of divulging them. Chuuya is fine with that too, Atsushi is at least honest about it instead of spinning lies. He can appreciate someone who favours saying “I prefer not to say.” Over making up lies about it instead.

“So, what about you?” Atsushi finally turns around to ask him instead, watching intently as Chuuya tries to gather what he means.

“How did you get here, to this- life? I’ve always been curious about that.”

A blank stare, “Curious about what, how I came to be a sailor?”

“That, but also in general. I couldn’t imagine wanting to live on land, I mean, I wasn’t exactly made to, as humans aren’t made for the sea either. If you fall overboard you drown, you’re reliant on tools that can break to even live on the sea, so why do you do it?”

Ah, that is a somewhat less loaded question that he feared it’d be. Truth be told Chuuya isn’t very enthusiastic on the idea of talking about his past and why exactly he’s doing what he does for now, but he can answer the general question somewhat.”

“It’s, strange I’l admit, but I just like the feeling the sea gives. Traveling all around the world if time permits it. It’s just me and those idiots,” he points at the ship when he says that for good measure “there’s no rules. No big guy telling you what you can, and can’t do. That’s how I like to live, lawless and chaotic.”

He looks out for the ship, his crew, friends. They’re the closest thing he has left of family and he refuses to give in to the whims of forces that seek to rip it out of his hands and leave him drowning in the depths. Conveniently he also ‘forgets’ to mention what exactly it is he does, knowing Atsushi probably wouldn’t be too pleased about the stealing, plundering, occasional murder here or there. He’ll tell him at some point because he knows he should, but right now he wants to be a little selfish and keep this, whatever this is, close to him.

“As for others- There’s jobs that require sea travel, transporting things from one country to another where there’s a sea between them. Some things you can’t do by avoiding the sea altogether so we’ve learned to work with it in our own, not always too convenient, ways.”

A light chuckle, “You put yourselves in danger to bring- things to other places? Is that worth eating the dreadful food you got for?”

Chuuya returns with a small laugh of his own, “Maybe not, but what can you do. Those spices aren’t going to carry themselves to rich assholes of other cultures. Those guys love taking what they can’t have. Jacks up the prices too.”

“I’m not going to ask what those are, but you guys- pay to get stuff?”

Chuuya blinks a few times, “You don’t?”

Atsushi shakes his head, “Down there it’s more of a system of, whoever finds something keeps it. If someone else needs it and you have it you might share, but it’s never for a price. The ocean provides everything we need so there was never a need to start locking possessions behind something you pay for. I think favours are the closest thing we have to a currency?”

That’s, fascinating, Chuuya has to admit. A society without currency, food is shared to everyone who needs it and outside of that everyone has to make their own path to living.

“Up here, everything costs money. Food, housing, getting clean water-“

“Housing and food costs money??” Atsushi looks down-right horrified now “So if you don’t have any, you just- what, starve? Freeze to death outside?”

“Sounds about right. Unless you know how to procure your own food, hunting and gatherin’ and all that shit, but most people aren’t used to that anymore.”

“Humans are really something huh.” Atsushi mutters to himself. Chuuya can’t disagree with that, their system isn’t exactly built on convenience. It serves to do a lot of things for a lot of people, but only if you have money or if you have it in you to stab a few backs to get there. Chuuya isn’t a fan of treachery even if his morals are nowhere near righteous.

He observes the siren as he gets lost in thought. The way Atsushi’s cheeks puff up while his hand settles under his chin with curled up fingers. The nail of his pinky tapping against his bottom lip and eyes intensely trained towards the unruly surface of the water.

After what feels like ages of silence, Atsushi’s eyes seem to shimmer with something and his gaze shoots back to Chuuya, “I want to know more about you too.” He says.

“I teach you about my people, and you teach me about yours.”

A laugh, bellowing and loud, but one of genuine joy, “Sounds good to me.”

He lays down with his back against the ground and stretches, hands behind his head as his face turns upwards to the stars. Atsushi looks between him and the sky, perplexed.

“Ever did some stargazing, little siren?” Chuuya muses.

“Yes- no? I’m. I know what those are, I know what the moon is, but…”

“I’ve never, looked at them per se?”

Chuuya pats the spot next to him “Try it.”

A blank stare at first, Atsushi eventually mimics Chuuya’s posture. It turns silent as they lay there and Chuuya contemplates now that he has the space to. He never liked the night before, but on the nights where he felt restless and couldn’t fall asleep he’d do this atop the deck, fashioning himself a makeshift comforting bed by dragging some of his blankets outside and huddling them together. Laying down and gazing up at the stars and the moon. Those few days he didn’t hate the night but welcomed the quiet sense of sobriety that washed over him as he remembered where he came from and how far he’s gotten since then.

It helps that it’s also simply a pretty sight to boot, and after a while Atsushi stirs, murmuring a soft “This is, nice?”

Chuuya doesn’t need to ask why, he understands. Though there’s not a sound to be heard both of them are overtly aware of the fact that they’re not alone.

The redhead does start to wonder just exactly how Atsushi lived before this. He can imagine somewhat, but that’s his human brain filling in gaps that are far too big for it to mean anything.

“I could fall asleep like this.” Atsushi speaks again.

Chuuya laughs, “You probably should, considering you’ve had to exert yourself all day.”

“What if I wake up and you’re gone?”

“You think I’d just up and leave without you after all the trouble I went through?”

It’s a light-hearted comment on Chuuya’s end, not meant to be taken that seriously, so when he looks at Atsushi and sees pupils grown wide in eyes simmering with confusion and discomfort he has to wonder what it is he did wrong.

It’s gone as quickly as it came though with Atsushi apologising when noticing Chuuya saw his expression earlier. Atsushi may not be human, but his mind seems to be burdened by familiar kinds of demons that love to take you unawares and force your vulnerability to the front. Peel off the mask anyone in this life has carefully crafted for themselves in a desperate attempt to fit in and hide the insecurities.

Chuuya is no different, but where Atsushi’s ‘inhumanity’ shines through is that painfully honest way of living that Chuuya has never seen anyone on the streets practise. It’s refreshing and Atsushi doesn’t seem ashamed of the emotions but rather unsure on how much he can trust Chuuya with them.

Atsushi doesn’t have a mask whatsoever. The things he hides he’s honest about, something about that rings so pure and inconceivable to the pirate.

It makes Atsushi precious, more so than he thought. A rare treasure in a treacherous world. A small beacon of light in the dark that seems to lead him effortlessly through a difficult path.

It’s all the ways in which Atsushi is so different to everyone Chuuya has ever met in his life before that fascinate him so. Atsushi acts and talks like a person and yet he’s also not one by virtue of his values.

“I won’t leave unless I know you’re there to follow.” He ends up reassuring the siren. He leaves for the ship soon after so he can actually get some amount of sleep in before daybreak.

The second night there’s a repeat, but this time he has to stick to the small boat in water with the lack of shore to ground him on. Atsushi leans over the side of the boat on the opposite end Chuuya sits and he finds that this works just as well, though he prefers the freedom that comes with a little more ground under his feet.

Still, if he falls he has no doubts Atsushi will dive after him so he isn’t worried about that aspect. Atsushi asks where they’re going and Chuuya tells him about Tortuga, an island designated as the pirate haven of the world. A place as lawless and vile as it is free. Cultures of all directions came together in one place and formed a mingling of people, architecture, and cuisine unheard of anywhere else.

It's a melting pot of all the different walks of life and yet everything has come to feel monotone all the while. It’s the lifestyle that changes you and forces people to hide behind a mask. Cutthroat and merciless when on the seas, pretending to be a society when setting foot on Tortuga’s land.

The only hang-up is,

“Will there be a safe place for us to meet?” Atsushi wonders aloud and Chuuya has to think. There’s one place he can think of, one measly place. It’s on the opposite end of where the docks are and will take a few hours to get to on foot, but it’s about the only option he has.

He tells Atsushi as such, where it is, what it looks like, and how to get there safely.

“Tortuga never sleeps either, so we’ll have to be extra careful. Can you do that, little siren?”

“Of course I can.” Atsushi flashes a somewhat confident smile. “Don’t worry about me, I’m tougher than I look.”

Chuuya doesn’t struggle to believe it when his eyes wander across the parts of Atsushi that look the most human, muscular structure along his chest and arms, even the small parts on his sides and forearms that are covered in scales. The volume is easy to see even in the dark with the moon reflecting scales like they’re stars plucked straight from the sky and kept right on the siren’s body.

It’s a mesmerising sight.

He can easily picture all the ways a siren like Atsushi can cause death. From his sharp teeth to his voice, the tail he handles with such precision and ease that Chuuya can only imagine having a strong grip on any fool unfortunate enough to cross a siren.

Atsushi has the muscle to back up the confidence and he doesn’t even really need it. That, definitely does things for the redhead’s imagination.

“You like what you see?” Atsushi smirks upon noticing the prolonged stare and Chuuya doesn’t even attempt to lie himself out of it. Not only can he not tell a convincing lie to save his life, but something about Atsushi’s attitude sparks a fire within him.

He returns a smirk of his own, “I do actually, but you already knew that didn’t you little siren?”

As expected, Atsushi’s bravado fades upon the honest admittance and his face grows intensely red again, shrinking back from Chuuya in that shyness he’d come to expect from the little fish.

‘Cute’ he can’t help but think when watching Atsushi attempt to scramble himself together from that.

He’s unintentionally flirtatious in his ways due to his nature as a siren and absolutely not used to actively weaponising his charms. Chuuya won’t complain because it makes teasing the siren much easier and the red that dusts Atsushi’s cheeks is a particularly good look on him from where Chuuya stands.

He hates having to leave his side again, but they both need their rest as well for the travels ahead.

“I’ll be seeing you around then, little siren.” Chuuya winks. He turns before Atsushi can respond but the nervous sputters that devolve into incoherent ramblings as a response are music to his ears.

*

Even before the boat fully docks and they set foot on land Chuuya can hear the tunes and joviality in full swing around the city. It’s a mingle of degeneracy and freedom that gives the music its distinct feeling. Everything looks rickety and put together from scrap but it works and is deceptively sturdy. The houses stack and some need ladders to be accessed, some have built homes on scaffolding on the cliffside on the inside of the island, some people live on the beach shores. Rotting wood and dead fish are the pungent smells that invade his every crevice but he’s come to get used to it, not appreciate it, but survive amongst it.

Albatross loves to poke fun at Chuuya’s sensibilities at times, calling him delicate for them, but the redhead prefers to see it as having standards.

The boardwalk lowers and the first thing Chuuya does when everyone makes attempts to go down is remind them the ship needs a good scrubbing before they leave again, gaining groans in the process from most of them.

Kouyou walks off without a spared glance and he doesn’t even attempt to go after her, she won’t do what he asks her to do regardless. It’s Kouyou’s way or no way.

That reminds him to inform at least Albatross and Shirase that he’ll be off to the other side of the island soon.

“You’re not goin’ to the mansion?”

Chuuya shakes his head at first, “eventually I will, got some shit to do first though.” Albatross shrugs his shoulders and drags Shirase and Lippmann off to god knows where, probably to get wasted.

Chuuya makes his way off the ship too. Walking down the main street across wooden planks covering for small holes in the ground under which runs seawater, they’re not large but one could still fall through and get seriously hurt. Chuuya has seen it happen more than once with a bar-fight that got out of hand.  The city has existed for longer than Chuuya has been alive but the restitutes of what it used to look like seep through every crack, the small waterfalls that flow between houses, the caves that run through the cliffs to the other side that were repurposed for various needs and uses.

It’s a stark contrast to his home and where he grew up where every path was neatly designed with not a stone falling out of place, symmetry on every corner, every street. Large buildings that loom over you.

Yokohama is cold, it’s without a single flaw to its surface but he knows the ugly red that flowed underneath those streets and what they were built on.

Tortuga’s culture may be cutthroat, but the lawlessness of the place actually makes it more homely and people tend to behave more openly to each other. No backstabbing needed when people can simply yell in each others’ faces.

His favourite tavern is run by a frenchman named Paul Verlaine, an eccentric fellow whose writing is his only skill that Chuuya can admire. He’s missed the food and it’s always the first place he visits.

“Back so soon eh, Mon Cheri.” The blonde behind the counter teases with a quick wink when Chuuya approaches him. The redhead rolls his eyes at the newly added endearment. Verlaine is a tall fellow, lanky but clearly possesses the physical strength to back up his threats towards unruly individuals stirring up shit inside his establishment. Long blonde hair swept to the side in a braid that slings over his shoulder to the front. He always stands with his back straight and chest out like a proud peacock making sure you know he’s confident, an attitude that’s required for survival around here. He may not have been born in this life, but Verlaine was made for it, the only person around him that might even be more suited for it is the other owner of the tavern.

Chuuya does a quick scan around the place until he sees him leaning against a table and happily chatting with some vaguely familiar faces. Arthur Rimbaud, raven hair tied in a messy low bun that still leaves many strands of hair to fall freely over his face and shoulders. His face doesn’t betray his emotions at all but Chuuya has learned to read the tired glint in his eyes with excellence over the years. He looks positively exhausted at this moment despite the cheery attitude he exudes for everyone else.

He takes note of Chuuya across the room and the exhaustion seems to fade from his weary eyes when he trods onwards towards the pirate.

“Wasn’t expecting you back this early.” Is the first thing he says with a jovial glint, Chuuya resists the urge to laugh at how similar the two of them have become over the years.

“Your hubby said the same exact thing. How’s the weather been treatin’ ya?”

Rimbaud shivers as if prompted by the question, “C-Could be better, windy days make even hot summer nights freezing cold.” He rubs his hands on his upper arms in an attempt to warm himself up.

“Mon amour, get behind the counter where it’s warm, I’ll serve the customers instead.” Verlaine smiles, hands around Rimbaud’s wrist and pulling gently for him to join the blonde. Rimbaud doesn’t protest and lets himself be handled. Chuuya watches as Verlaine presses a kiss to his lover’s cheek when he passes him to the other side of the bar and lets out the chuckle he’d been holding at how unashamed the two of them are about their affections. Not that anyone here would take issue with that, something about being inherently lawless awakens the primal urge in people to stop giving a shit about what most people consider as ‘right’ and simply do what you feel like doing.

“So,” Rimbaud focuses his attention back to Chuuya now “I’m assuming you didn’t come here just to chat. What can I get you?”

Chuuya thinks for a bit, “You got any specialties without fish or meat in it?”

A blank stare, confusion evident across those grey hues “Chuuya, lad, a dish without fish or meat? Are you sick?”

“Very funny, I’m just feelin’ extra daring today I guess. Oh, and if you could make extras for me to take along I’d appreciate it.”

Rimbaud’s puzzled expression only intensifies at that, but he doesn’t question it any further.

Rimbaud’s skill with a pan knows no rival, the way his hands weave through the bottles of spices without wasting a single grain or leaf is impressive alone, but the speed with which he works combined with his precision is unmatched. He often says it’s because his homeland, France, puts a lot of emphasis on cuisine and being able to cook well can get you far. He’d even boasted about preparing a meal for the king and queen of France once, how his dab hand with the pan matches Verlaine’s pen and ink, and yet they’re here in no-man’s land, a pirate haven without rime or rules.

Chuuya supposes the freedom is tantalising on its own, Verlaine isn’t the most morally upstanding of guys and he’s seen the man stab a fork through rowdy patrons’ hands with little care for less than Chuuya would do it.

Rimbaud takes out a ceramic pot with a lid and ties it together before handing it to Chuuya, who proceeds to flip a gold coin on the counter that the other man catches before it even touches the wooden surface.

“Thanks, old friend.” Chuuya muses before waving his goodbye to the blonde, ignoring the protests of ‘Ah, leaving so soon!?’.

That leaves only making his way over to the less habited side of the island. Catching a carriage ride outside proves much easier than he’d anticipated when one is already waiting for a patron to ferry around the moment he steps outside. An older gentleman he’s seen around before with kind eyes and many years under his belt.

“Where to, young captain?” Chuuya can’t see his face, when he asks but the smile is evident from the way he speaks.

“Other end of the island, somewhere close to the Skull’s grove if you will.” Ignoring how stereotypical the name sounds and pretending he doesn’t hate having to say it, the old man laughs and reaffirms that he can take Chuuya most of the way, but he’ll have to wade through the thick brush of the adjacent forest himself.

“All good with that old man.”

He’d expected a longer ride, if only because the man is not opposed to going a little faster than most. Chuuya can appreciate that.

When the towering trees of the woods he’ll need to get through make it into view he thanks the old man, who lifts his hat at Chuuya “My pleasure, don’t worry about the fee. This one’s on me.”

“You sure, I have more than enough coin to spare.”

“Frankly, you done more for this island here than the folks that run it, with all them merchant ships you’ve been takin’ down that were doin’ us in.”

“Hey, anything that brings the heat to our dear ol’ king’s comfortable ass, I’ll do with pleasure.”

Another laugh, “Don’t I know it? I thought the previous king were bad, but this one’s a tyrant the likes of which I ain’t even seen back home.”

“Where do you come from, old man?” Chuuya asks curiously, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Up north, well really north-west from here, the country of stuck-up folk who think they’re the centre o’ the universe.”

Chuuya stifles a laugh at the description, not wanting to seem rude and have his unnecessary opinions bleed through to a person he’ll probably never meet again anyway.

“Not to worry, I ain’t offended lad. You’d be right to laugh. There’s a reason you won’t find my kin littering round here.”

He waves the man off with a quick goodbye and a promise for ale, then back to the task at hand it is.

Tortuga is tainted by human life, most of it is, but there’s still a part of it left untouched by the desires of man. Caged between a half-circle of tall trees and prickling brush with only a single safe path that needs to be known to be found, sits a grove where the sea is brighter and clearer than anywhere else and corals thrive. Chuuya’s been there before to get away from everything, including his own mind. It’s cathartic to watch colourful fish go about their lives without a care in the world, as nature has designed for them and with the privilege of being born somewhere no sea predators come. Water too shallow to really allow for that. Sharks have stranded on the shore before only to die a slow death upon getting stuck between sand and stone.

Now it’ll serve as the safest place where he can satiate his burning desire, to soothe the addicted mind begging to hear Atsushi’s voice again.

He might’ve been bewitched, maybe he really is just weak for this siren in particular. How it came to be he doesn’t know, but what he does is that it’s been a long time since he’s last had needs blaze this strongly inside of him. And those needs that came before were much darker in nature to begin with.

The path is thin and requires his handiwork with the dagger to cut through vines that have wound themselves between trees, blocking the way forward. By the wayside he can see the corpses of sailors strung up  as a warning sign of what happens when you stray from the safe path. Something lurks here and everyone knows it, but some fools are too confident to heed the warnings and still veer off the beaten path to try and explore a forest that doesn’t wish to be made sense of.

It’s not a long walk and if you know where to go you’ll be through quickly, but before he breaks through the clearing he flips a gold coin, letting it roll on the ground before coming to a halt as he watches it fall to its side before sinking in the dirt as if being pulled down by something beneath the surface. Something Chuuya hopes to never meet.

He knows to respect the rules of the land as he had been brutally taught so long ago, nearly losing a leg and having to be saved by a less than pleased Piano Man and Doc. Luckily his indiscretion had been a minor one and thus he’d survived and kept his leg, a miracle according to Doc.

The land and the sea can breathe some places you go, where the influence of man reigns the weakest. Cities are overrun with man-made structures and kill the gods that flow underneath, but places like these demand to be walked with respect for their origins.

He takes a moment to feel the cooling breeze past his skin, taking in the purity and scent of untouched shores before trodding onwards to the alcove itself. He doesn’t need to wonder whether Atsushi had made it either when the familiar song lowly sings through his head and causes an involuntary smile to break through as he’s forced to wade through the shallow pool of sea to get where he needs to be.

“Enjoying yourself?” a restrained small laugh followed by a devious smirk as the siren notices him and silences, growing red in his face all the while.

An attempt to ignore the comment “Y-you made it-“

“Sure did little fish. Were you singing for me? Hm?”

“T-that’s-“ if Atsushi grew any redder than he is right now Chuuya would fear asphyxiation, but a pouting Atsushi makes for an adorable sight.

Slinging the bag which held their food over his shoulder, he finds a spot untouched by water and sits down, patting the spot next to him,

“So, this time I’ve brought you something actually edible.”

Atsushi raises a questioning eyebrow at that, doubting the words of a man who hadn’t managed to convince him of human food so far.

“Believe me, everythin’ I brought you earlier was simple sailor’s food, needed to survive across the seas. It ain’t meant to be a delicacy, just to keep ya from starvin’”

Taking the carefully wrapped ceramic out, he slices through the thin rope to open it up and sets it down in front of the siren.

“Just try it, Rimbaud’s cooking ain’t anything to scoff at.” A wink, and Atsushi sighs in acceptance when he hoists himself up too, he looks down at the bowl hesitantly, “Do I just? With my hands?”

“How do you usually eat little fish?”

“Point taken, I just figured you humans would eat something like this- differently?”

“We use cutlery, but seeing as we got none of that right now,” without missing a beat he takes a handful from the bowl, making sure to line his gaze with Atsushi directly before taking a bite. Atsushi rolls his eyes at the display clearly meant to draw a reaction out of him and mouths something Chuuya can’t make out.

The somewhat annoyed exterior quickly melts upon mimicking Chuuya’s actions, the moment Atsushi’s teeth take a bite out of the portion held in his hand his eyelids seem to open up in surprise before taking another bite, and another.

“Good, yeah?” Chuuya attempts to hold back on sounding as smug as he looks but fails when he sees Atsushi’s pout intensify.

Making sure to swallow the leftovers in his mouth before responding, “It’s- passable.”

“Oh I’m sure it is, that’s why you ate like your life depended on it, because it’s ‘passable’.”

Right as he says that Atsushi swallows the last of his food, eyes narrowed and focused on Chuuya. “You’re a stubborn little fish sometimes, not that I mind.” Is said so lightly that it manages to bring the siren’s mood back to a more jovial one almost instantly.

“Stubbornness is how I survived, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is one.”

The shyness Atsushi exudes from one moment to the stubborn confidence the next is a trait that takes some getting used to. It makes the siren hard to read, but fun to figure out. Chuuya enjoys watching his reactions to everything.

An earnest, open book. He tries to lock himself, but fails in that aspect.

“Tell me, oh great sailor, what is the humans settlement on the other side of this island like.” It’s almost a demand in it’s conveying, but Chuuya doesn’t mind when he did promise to tell Atsushi I return for his own stories.

“Stinks of rotten wood and dead fish, but it’s the closest thing I got to a home ‘round these seas. Plenty of folks who are worth more on their own than the entire capital city I came from.”

“You don’t like your homeland?”

“Aye, wouldn’t speak of it like I’m that far away from it, it’s a day or five from here, I don’t go back though, not right now.”

A wistful look sent seawards, “Seems like we got something in common, then.” Atsushi nearly whispers in tone. Barely audible to even the fish swimming around them. Atsushi’s tail reaches further into the water than Chuuya’s legs could hope to, far away from their conversation where the tropical critters of the sea swim around it. Atsushi hunches over and lets his hand sink within, drawing the animals to him as if entranced by his superior being. Pecking lightly at the scales on his fingers. It causes a small smile on his face that Chuuya won’t directly ask about, luckily he finds he doesn’t need to.

“Curious?” Atsushi eyes him from the corners, a smile on his lips as he speaks. All Chuuya can do it nod in return, keeping his voice at bay so the fish won’t be scared off.

“We’re made from the sea, created by gods, but even gods need materials to forge. It’s like how you humans make your weapons.” His free hands draws up to point at the dagger sitting at Chuuya’s hip. “That didn’t come from nothing,  it needed iron, and leather to be made. When gods make us, they take creatures from the sea to build upon and reform them into what we are. So naturally, despite the fact I am, not, a fish-“ a piercing glint in those eyes, focused solely on the nickname he’d been given by Chuuya, “I have a connection with them. They aren’t as mindless or stupid as humans think they are. They can tell I mean them no harm.”

A pause before continuing, “The ecosystem down there is different from up here, whales and sharks have their teeth picked clean by guys as little as these. They can go right inside their mouths without fear of being eaten. It’s a naturally existing trust that humans mostly don’t seem to have.”

A charged chuckle, “What, you want me to go right inside a whale’s mouth to go brush its teeth? Should I hug a tree while I’m at it, become one with nature-“

“Very funny, sailor, I’m not saying that. I’m saying there’s a big difference between how humans live their lives with each other, and how we live down below, or how animals, plants, and creatures up above do.”

A puzzled glance, Atsushi talks as if he’s been around humans before but claims not to have been. The siren can see that demeanour shift within Chuuya and sighs.

“I- do know, a little more than I’ve led on. I can read your scriptures even.”

“But?” comes the questioning gaze once again while the siren shifts uncomfortably around while thinking of ways to talk around the truth. Instead of the expected lie comes dismissal, “I hate talking about it, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but every time I’m reminded of it my head goes unclear and I stop knowing what to do with myself- it’s unpleasant, and cold. I don’t like remembering it.”

Sitting on that for a bit, Chuuya decides not to respond to it directly and instead circles back to an earlier point, “So you were made, not born?” he asks, garnering  a grateful yet surprised look from the siren.

“Sort of? I suppose you can call it being born in its own right. We’re made to be small and grow up just like humans.”

That sends a mental image worthy of a laugh through Chuuya’s head. One of a baby Atsushi learning how to swim properly whilst being surrounded by water. Assuming Atsushi was probably born with the inherent knowledge on how to do that, but it’s more fun to think this way.

“You’re thinking devious things again human.” Back to a pout it is, but Chuuya will never complain about seeing it as long as Atsushi isn’t actually mad at him.

“What, me? Never would dare to little siren. Honest.” Striking a hand over his heart in dramatic fashion and earning himself a more genuine laugh over the siren’s lips that sends his mind into a frenzy. “You are truly ridiculous.”

“You seem to enjoy the ridiculousness.”

He’s barely off the high of Atsushi’s genuine laughter when he is hit all over again when the siren smiles at him like the world around them ceased to exist for a moment. Warmth and kindness in his eyes as he directs it all towards Chuuya, “I do,” he admits, “I enjoy it a lot.”

He may not be breathing for a hot second, but that breathlessness is the best he’s been allowed to feel in years.