Chapter Text
The wind howled through the rigging of the Destiny Ship, carrying with it a cold bite that gnawed at the edges of Hongjoong’s senses. He stood at the bow, eyes narrowed against the mist that clung to the horizon. Something was out there. Something that tugged at his instincts, like a whisper just beyond hearing.
It had been Jongho, sharp-eyed and ever watchful in the crow’s nest, who first spotted the wreckage. A glimmer of debris, barely visible in the distance, but enough to stir unease in Hongjoong’s gut.
Without a word, Hongjoong signaled to San and Mingi, who moved with quiet efficiency to lower the jolly boat into the water. The sea below looked deceptively calm, but Hongjoong could feel the weight of something unseen lurking just beneath its surface. As the boat splashed down, he joined his crew, his mind churning with questions.
They rowed in silence toward the wreckage, the rhythmic creak of the oars the only sound to break the stillness. Hongjoong’s eyes remained fixed on the shattered remains of what had once been a tender—a small, private vessel, now scattered across the waves like pieces of a broken dream.
"Where’s the rest of it?" he muttered under his breath, scanning the horizon for any sign of the ship it belonged to. But there was nothing. Just an expanse of empty sea and the quiet dread creeping up his spine.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the rhythmic creak of the oars.
The closer they drew to the wreckage, the more unsettling it became. This wasn’t an ordinary shipwreck. The sea had been calm, the skies clear. Yet the tender had been completely obliterated. No, this was no accident. This was done intentionally by something, or someone.
Behind him, he heard San and Mingi’s hushed conversation, their voices tinged with something darker than mere concern.
“You don’t think they were trying to banish a spirit, do you?” San asked, his voice low, as though afraid the sea itself might hear.
Mingi’s grim response came with a slight shudder. “It’s possible. I’ve heard stories that if a ship’s haunted, sometimes they trap the spirit, push it out to sea and destroy the tender, leaving the spirit no way to follow them.”
Pirates were a superstitious lot, and while Hongjoong prided himself on his rational mind, he couldn’t entirely shake the cold creeping down his spine. Something was wrong here. Something more than the wreckage.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a figure, half-submerged in the water, clinging to a sliver of wood.
“Over there,” Hongjoong commanded, his voice sharp in the heavy air. Instantly, San and Mingi adjusted their course, rowing toward the lone survivor.
As they neared, the man’s form became clearer: a limp body, drenched and motionless, except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. His hair, a shock of silver against the dark water, caught the fading light.
“Hello?” Hongjoong called out, though part of him doubted the man would respond. The sea had a way of taking its toll.
San’s voice was a whisper, barely audible over the waves. “Captain, I don’t think he’s alive.”
“How could anyone survive this?” Mingi added, his tone a mix of disbelief and something bordering on fear.
Hongjoong wanted to agree. The water was frigid, deathly cold, and most of the wreck was no more than driftwood. Yet something gnawed at him, a feeling he couldn’t shake.
He was about to signal for retreat when, impossibly, the man lifted his head.
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze, leaving only the rush of blood in Hongjoong’s ears and the crashing of the waves. He met the stranger’s gaze, a dark, piercing stare that seemed to cut straight through him.
The man was beautiful, in a way that made Hongjoong’s breath catch. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and lips so delicately curved it felt wrong for them to be in the midst of such destruction. He was elegance amidst chaos, a figure that didn’t belong here, yet seemed carved from the very sea itself.
Hongjoong leaned forward, his voice lowering. “I’m Captain Hongjoong of the Destiny Ship. We’re here to help.”
The stranger’s eyes, dark as the depths of the ocean, held Hongjoong’s for what felt like an eternity, suspicion flickering across his features. His beauty was almost otherworldly, something that made Hongjoong feel like he was treading dangerous waters. But there was no time for second thoughts.
San and Mingi were staring at him, silently pleading to turn back. Yet Hongjoong pressed forward. "Will you let us help you?"
The man’s silence stretched on, but Hongjoong held out his hand, unwavering. Finally, the stranger’s voice broke through, soft yet sharp, melodic in a way that sent a chill down Hongjoong’s spine.
“Will you take me to land?”
Hongjoong nodded, his voice steady despite the shiver running down his spine. “I can offer you aid in whatever way you need. If you wish to be taken to land, I will see it done.”
There was a long pause, the man’s dark eyes searching Hongjoong’s face as though weighing his trust. Finally, he reached out, grasping Hongjoong’s outstretched hand.
The moment their hands touched, Hongjoong was caught off guard by an unexpected heaviness to Seonghwa. He felt far heavier than he appeared. His slight frame didn’t seem capable of carrying such weight. Together with San and Mingi, they heaved him into the boat, his drenched clothing clinging to him like a second skin. But as Hongjoong helped steady him, he realized it wasn’t just Seonghwa’s body weighing him down.
Draped across Seonghwa’s shoulders was the soaked remnants of a fur cloak, nearly ruined, waterlogged to the point where it seemed to drag him toward the depths. The fabric clung to him, and as Hongjoong’s eyes took in the singed edges, he noted the silver color of the coat was an almost exact match to the color of the man's hair.
The stranger clutched the tattered fabric tightly, eyes darting warily between the three pirates. His demeanor was guarded, though Hongjoong could hardly blame him. Trust was a rare commodity out here.
“Like I said, I’m Hongjoong,” he said gently, motioning to his crew. “This is San, and this is Mingi.”
The stranger’s gaze remained cold, but after a long, tense moment, he spoke. “Seonghwa.”
Hongjoong allowed himself a small smile. “Where are you from?”
Seonghwa’s lips tightened, his eyes slipping away from Hongjoong’s as he turned to stare at the horizon. His silence, his refusal to answer, was louder than any answer he could have given.
As San and Mingi began rowing back to the ship, the weight of the encounter settled over Hongjoong like a shroud. Seonghwa’s presence felt wrong, out of place, but at the same time, there was something about him that tugged at Hongjoong, something he couldn’t quite name.
By the time they reached the Destiny Ship, the unease had grown into a near palpable tension. Word of Seonghwa’s arrival would spread quickly among the crew, whispers of ghosts and curses already brewing in their minds.
Hongjoong glanced at Seonghwa, still clutching his ruined cloak, and knew one thing for certain: this man, whoever he was, had changed the course of their journey in ways he couldn’t yet understand.