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Most days, I wake up with a pit in my chest
There are thoughts that I can't put to rest
There's a worry that I can't place
Darkness.
That’s all there is: darkness and an overwhelming sense of dread. It presses down, weighing on Izou so he can’t move, so he can’t even call out for help. Someone would help him, right? He knows, he knows, that the world is not made to be taken on alone, so why does he feel its weight on his shoulders?
The darkness seems to move and Izou swears he can almost see Kiku. . .
Thud.
Izou jerks up, gasping for air. The soft morning light breaking through the porthole seems serene compared to his ragged breathing and the quilt tangled around his legs. It takes several moments before reality catches up to him, pushing down the fear clawing up his throat, and he sags back into the pillows. A night terror, that’s all it was. He’s safe now.
Most nights, I am restless and quiet won't come
So I lay there and wait for the sun
There's a trouble that won't show its face
He wishes he could believe that. In the last two months or so, they’ve been coming almost constantly. Sometimes before bed at night, the whispers of his past and the people he knew in Wano haunt him, leaving him tossing and turning. It’s not like he should expect a real answer out of ghosts, but he wishes they’d let him sleep. Hell, there’s even been a handful of nights when Thatch would wake up for a breakfast shift to find him still up and staring blankly at the wall, his mind racing with terrible possibilities. Those times are even worse than the night terrors.
Sighing and carding hair away from his face, Izou starts to untangle himself from the blankets. Maybe it isn’t the start to the day that he wanted, but he needed to get up eventually anyway. His division does have some chores today, he could start on those. What was supposed to be first again. . .?
You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise
I make sense of the madness when I listen to your voice
A quick knock interrupts his thoughts before the door is thrown open.
“Good morning sunshine!!” Thatch greets, all smiles and positive energy. “Oh, you’re already up, that’s great. I brought some breakfast for us.” Kissing Izou on the head as he passes by, Thatch sets the tray laden with different foods on their desk, tucking an errant piece of hair from his face once his hands are free.
Just the sound of Thatch’s voice settles something in Izou’s chest. He watches quietly as his partner rearranges their paperwork so there’s more room to spread out, humming all the while.
“Did you bring the entire kitchen down, sweetheart?” Izou teases, taking in the fish, eggs, meats, and other assorted food surrounding the beautiful flowery blue teapot they bought together a few years ago. Different though it might be, together it all smells delicious, as he expects from Moby’s best.
“Just enough for a bit of selection, darlin’,” Thatch says with a small grin, willing to play their little game of pet names if Izou wants. He doesn’t this time, but it always fills him with joy to hear the confirmation that someone loves him and that he’s not alone.
Darling, only you can ease my mind
Help me leave these lonely thoughts behind
When they pull me under, and I can feel my sanity start to unwind
Darling, only you can ease my mind
Smiling at the thought, Izou happily wraps his arms around Thatch, catching him just as the chef turns to offer food so they’re chest to chest. “I didn't think it was a breakfast in bed morning,” Izou says, the sound muffled from where he’s pressed into the curve of Thatch’s shoulder.
“I decided it this morning,” Thatch replies, letting go enough to tuck a strand of hair behind Izou’s ear. “You were tossing last night, so I wanted to give you something nice to wake up to. Do you want to tell me about it, or food first?”
“A bit of food please. And then we can talk.”
For now he’ll push away those awful night terrors, let them fade into oblivion as Thatch recounts how Ace tried to sneak into the kitchen through the vents yesterday only to get hit with a pan when he got there.
Later, when the stories are done and they’re both comfortably full, Izou will tell Thatch about the things that have been haunting his nights. And, somehow, he knows Thatch will make it better.
I'll admit, for a moment, I felt so afraid
Just to show you the mess that I made
There are pieces I usually hide
He’d fucked up.
Seas below, he had fucked up. It was a bad day and he yelled at a member of his division for a simple question, one he deals with weekly, yet this time he got angry enough to jump down the man’s throat. At this point Izou can’t even remember all that was said, just that it was cruel in a way he never wants to be with family. It was only when the man was shaking and cowering against one of the masts that Izou realized how intense he’d gotten. Horrified, he stopped mid-sentence and threw out a quick sorry before fleeing.
Now he’s hiding on an upper deck, back against the wall, hoping that looking out at the ocean will bring some kind of peace.
It’s not working though. If anything it makes him more depressed.
Marco and Pops would be nice about it, telling Izou that it happens and to just let it go, but he isn’t sure he wants to. Yelling at a crewmate for a reason is one thing, but to unrightfully dig into them so harshly that they’re ready to cry ? That’s shameful, almost despicable even.
He’s ashamed of himself at least. Pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them, Izou lets that realization wash through him, tears prickling at how much it rings true. Everything feels terrible and messy and he’s ashamed because he let his negative emotions about the day take over.
What if Thatch hates him because of it? It’s dumb but the thought makes it hard to breathe, his heart clenching painfully as the tears truly start. Izou knows, logically, that they’ve been together long enough to have seen the not so great sides of each other, but right now this one feels the worst, something he would rather keep hidden from his partner and the crew.
But when you collect me with your steady hand
With a language that I understand
I feel put back together inside
Izou isn’t sure how long he sits there, but the tears peter out as heavy footsteps approach his hiding spot. Sniffling, he refuses to check who it is, still feeling too raw to talk just yet. There’s only so many people that would risk being near him right now anyway. Whoever it is, they don’t seem to mind the lack of attention, as they slide down the wall next to Izou without a word.
A warm hand brushes across his back, disturbing the smooth material while soothing some of the fears that have taken over. It’s Thatch, of course it’s Thatch. A smidgen of tension gone now, Izou doesn’t protest as the hand slips around his shoulder and pulls them together. He leans into the embrace, letting himself rest on the other man, inhaling the wonderful scent of food that clings to Thatch.
“Too much today, hon?” Thatch asks lowly, not even asking for the story, though he likely already knows. Izou nods, tired down to his bones. He gets squeezed further into Thatch’s warm body for a second before the man relents. “Everyone gets those kind of days, it’ll be okay. You’re allowed to mess up and have emotions, even if they aren’t pretty.”
“I’m gonna say sorry again,” Izou mumbles, relaxing as Thatch’s thumb rubs tiny arcs into his bicep. Between that and the view of rolling waves that are now beautiful instead of sad, it’s tempting to stay there forever.
“I know ya will, darlin’. You’re a good commander like that.”
“Not as good as you,” he replies easily. The praise does make him feel better though, a little more whole than before.
Thatch laughs. “Nahhh. Let me tell you what happened with my sous chef today. . .”
You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise
I make sense of the madness when I listen to your voice
Most of the time, evening watch is Izou’s favorite extra duty. It’s calm (as enemies rarely try to attack when it’s getting dark) and he gets the chance to watch the sunset without interruption. He generally chooses the smallest crow’s nest so it’s not necessary to have another person and then he’s free to think about whatever. It’s the kind of break all the commanders revel in.
Today’s watch hasn’t been quite as nice as normal though.
The beginning was good; Namur and Marco raced from the Moby to Ace’s skiff and back to see whether being of the sea or sky was faster and the crow’s nest provided a perfect vantage point for watching it. After winning by a second and a half, Marco flew victorious circles around the masts, cheers erupting from his division with each pass while Namur’s booed. Izou laughed at his family’s antics as the wind from the beating of Marco’s wings whipped his hair around.
Now though, the joyous energy from the crew has subsided and the sun is starting its descent towards the horizon, the clouds changing to a beautiful vibrant pink, and Izou’s mind is wandering dangerously into questions he wishes would just go away. Things like: should there have been more consequences from that incident with his division member from last week? Should he have left Wano behind to chase after Oden? Was it better to let Oden go with Roger while he stayed with the Whitebeards? Does he deserve to be a commander even though he doesn’t always feel worthy of it? Is Kiku okay?
Izou sighs, leaning heavily against the railing. They’re all questions and scenarios he’s asked himself before, always left with no answer and no ways to change the past. Seas forbid tonight when he wants a calm, quiet evening that it's not truly given to him. Disappointment weighs on his shoulders as he half-heartedly studies the water around them, doing his best to ignore the thoughts.
Oh, darling, only you can ease my mind
Oh, help me leave these lonely thoughts behind
When they pull me under, and I can feel my sanity start to unwind
Darling, only you can ease my mind -
A heavy step pulls Izou from his mind just as a familiar set of hairy arms lean next to him, grazing his own. The touch is easy and yet so comforting; it feels like a breath of fresh air after a long day below decks. Izou turns to greet his partner and is met by the sweetest smile stretching across Thatch’s face. It’s filled with peace and love and indulgence, and despite the negative twist his mood had taken, it makes Izou feel like shouting “I love you” until the entire world knows.
“‘lo, darling. You doing good?” Thatch asks. Heat emanates from his side and Izou presses closer. He didn’t realize he was cold before, but now he shivers, gladly stealing the warmth from Thatch, who just chuckles in response.
Brain clearing now that he’s not alone and doesn’t need to bottle anything in, Izou thinks about Thatch’s question. His worries are still there, never gone, but they don’t feel as big and scary as they were before. Thatch waits patiently for him to speak.
“I wouldn’t say good,” Izou starts slowly as he intertwines their fingers, giving a quick squeeze to reassure Thatch. He continues, “But you’re here now, so it’s better. You ease my mind.”
With that he lifts Thatch’s hand, softly kissing the back of it before moving on to each finger. The gesture contains everything he can and can’t say right now. He chances a glance up at the end and is immediately entranced by how the dying light caresses Thatch’s face, how it brings out the red strands in Thatch’s otherwise brown hair and highlights the love that shines so brightly in his eyes. Izou breathes shakily, overcome by his feelings. Nothing could be better than him, not to Izou.
Thatch knocks their heads together gently, a silent reply before he starts, “I’m glad I can help you, ‘zo. You know we’re in this together, big feelings and early mornings and everything in between.”
“You’re a sap,” Izou says with a content smile, leaning even closer until their noses are touching. Warmth, inside and out, is all he feels now. “I love going through everything with you.” And, despite his mess of emotions about his other life choices, he knows without a doubt that this is true. Life is hard sometimes, but with Thatch by his side, they could overcome anything.
They move together easily then, lips meeting tenderly as Thatch’s free hand comes up to tangle in Izou’s hair, grounding them both. It’s not fast or intense the way some people speak of love, but it’s exactly what they need, perfectly matching enough that Izou can’t tell where he starts and Thatch ends; honestly he cwould stay here forever if given the chance. Eventually though, they pull apart and Izou melts into Thatch’s chest. A deep, rumbling chuckle sounds from it as he strokes up and down Izou's back slowly.
“We’re really failing at watch,” Thatch laughs.
Izou blows a raspberry into his neck, an answer and also an excuse for Thatch to keep laughing like that. “It’s my division up here today, they won’t even miss us. Tell me about your day please.”
“Of course, darlin’.”