Archive of Our Own

Borsalino whistled to himself as he carried firewood back to his cabin. It's getting colder now and he has to make sure he has enough supplies to last winter.

There was the sound of light footsteps behind him and he ducked just in time to dodge a stone thrown toward his head. The weather wasn’t the only thing getting colder. The villagers have been so hostile recently. They were so kind to him when he washed ashore nearly a year ago, helping him back to his feet and rescuing any cargo that floated near their small island.

Unfortunately, Borsalino was alone when he woke up, no sign of anyone aboard their ship. He hoped they were alright.

With no means of contacting his fellow scholars, he settled into the island in hopes that a passing ship will allow him passage. In the meantime, he studied the island's history, did his best to impart his knowledge of agriculture, and even taught many children how to read.

All things considered, it was his fault really.

He didn’t mean to laugh when the elders told him of their custom. However, who wouldn’t find the concept of human sacrifice foolish in this time? It was to placate the volcano, they said. Every ten years, they would sacrifice a villager to ensure that their island wasn’t destroyed by an eruption. In hindsight, he should have apologized, should have kept his head down.

Instead, he explained the concept of volcano eruptions, the plates beneath their feet, and the ever growing magma they cannot stop. After that he was labeled a heretic. He wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt. He’s grown to like the people of this island and they come and turn their backs on him. They didn’t stop selling to him or accepting his services, their beliefs would not let them do so. Instead, they smiled at him with distrust in their eyes and a quick scornful word should he make a mistake. The children still approached him, begging for lessons and stories. He would indulge them though lately the occasional look of confusion in their eyes were turning into hate as well.

Borsalino sighed as he reached his destination. The little shrine that the villagers erected was a quiet spot he chose as a place to rest after gathering supplies. He hoped people would see him “show his respect” to their religion and lay off. He doesn’t know if it was effective or if they simply didn’t dare show violence or disdain at such a sacred site. Regardless, he sat down at his preferred spot under a tree.

He took out a bottle of sake and poured two cups. He wasn’t a complete mannerless cad. He knew that offerings are a must and the islanders told him that the preferred offering of their god was sake.

He took a sip, sighing as warmth coursed through his veins. He pulled out a book and began reading out loud.

Like clockwork, he heard rustling, as if somebody was sitting down on the soft grass a few feet away from him. He continued reading out loud, a smile on his lips. Borsalino doesn’t know who it was that continued to listen and watch him, but found their presence comforting.

He’s grown familiar with the sound of their footsteps, the way the bushes moved as his visitor got comfortable. He doesn’t think he’s encountered this person in town and he’s only felt their presence in the shrines. Perhaps it was some hermit who took delight in hearing his stories. Regardless, it was a pair of eyes that didn’t wish him harm so Borsalino continued their little ritual.

When it got close to an hour, Borsalino stopped reading. He broke their familiar routine by calling out, “Won’t you join me for some sake, friend?”

He waited for a response and got nothing, not that Borsalino was expecting something to happen. “You’re a shy fellow, aren’t you? Come on, you’ve been watching me for months now. Don’t you think it’s about time we see each other?”

Still no response.

Maybe it was one of the villagers who were told to stay away from him. Placing a hand to his chest, Borsalino couldn’t help but feel the familiar ache of loneliness. Back home, he was always surrounded by fellow scholars. Having no one to talk to, no one to share ideas with, was painful. He wiped at his eyes as if that would be enough to forget the image of his home from his mind.

“You can keep the sake.” He called out as he stood. His ears caught the sound of more rustling and he paused. From the bushes emerged a man in red, his hair cropped close to his head and a frown on his face. “Oh.”

“Who are you?” The man asked, his voice gruff.

Borsalino hummed, “Borsalino. I haven’t seen you around town. What’s your name?”

The man sat down near him, “You can call me Sakazuki.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Sakazuki.” Borsalino smiled. “So, why haven’t I seen you around town?”

Sakazuki took the still filled cup and drank from it, “I prefer staying here.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“It’s quiet and nobody ever bothers me.” Sakazuki replied. “Can you continue reading?”

His tone was demanding though there was a spark of embarrassment Borsalino caught. He chuckled, “It’s getting late. I could lend you the book if you want?”

“I—” The man paused, looking at Borsalino’s hand. “I can’t read.”

Borsalino perked up. This was an excuse for the man to join him whenever he visited the shrine and stop hiding. “I don’t mind reading to you, but I can teach you how to read too if you want.”

“That sounds agreeable.” Sakazuki nodded.

Borsalino smiled, “I’ll be off then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He had the most restful sleep he’s had in months that night. If Sakazuki doesn’t spend time in the village, then he might not know of Borsaino’s status as the pariah.

“You’re not from this island?” Sakazuki asked. They were sitting on Borsalino’s usual spot sharing a drink and some rice balls that Borsalino made.

“No. I was headed to another island to oversee the transport of some relics. Unfortunately, they’re all under the sea now. I hope they’re found by other archeologists and scholars in the future. They were very interesting!”

“What were they?”

“No idea.” Borsalino chuckled. “They were all locked up tight but it all had something to do about a great flood. I wanted to sneak a peek but my master would have probably skinned me alive if I did. How about you? What do you do around the island?”

Sakazuki looked around before answering, “I take care of this place mostly. There are so few people who come by that the shrines are left to rot.”

“Hmm, I was wondering about that actually. The villagers sound very…religious. I didn’t think they would have allowed this place to get to this state.”

“They all just stopped visiting. Unless someone was sick or they had horrible crops or some other disaster. It’s as if they’re only here to ask for blessings. You’re the first person who came here with no prayers or offerings. I don’t know if that makes it good or not.”

Borsalino laughed, “Lighten up, will you? I don’t share their views so have pity on me. Besides, I do bring offerings. It just so happens that you’re also drinking it with me.”

Sakazuki crossed his arms, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. “So they’re not offerings.”

“It would be a waste to leave good food and alcohol, wouldn’t it? And you’re the caretaker of this place, right? I say it’s better to give these to you so the place would continue being taken care of. That would be much better, wouldn’t you agree?” Borsalino said, bumping his elbow against Sakazuki.

“Think what you will.” Sakazuki huffed though there was a smile on his lips.

Borsalino smiled, “I’ll get to reading then, shall I?”

Sakazuki nodded, letting Borsalino’s voice wash over him.

Borsalino rubbed his eyes, the strain from reading so many scrolls finally taking their toll. He’s been reading reports and notes from construction workers and shipwrights for hours now. The local archivist kept shooting him distrustful looks but hasn’t kicked him out yet. He highly doubts he’d be allowed to borrow the scrolls, so he needed to study them as fast as possible. Aside from those, he also checked records of volcanic eruptions. There were a lot of religious babble, but there were useful details as well such as where the lava typically flows toward and which areas are safe. He hasn’t seen warnings or drills nor had anyone pointed him to an evacuation area. Their utter faith in their practice was alarming but he was nothing but a heretic to them, so what could he do?

Yawning, he deemed it enough research for one day and headed out. A child spotted him and ran toward him, gathering their friends along the way.

“Mister, mister!” A boy, Hotaru, yelled at him. “Come play with us!”

“Hotaru-kun, are you sure you want to play with an old man like me?” Borsalino squatted down to look at them properly. He was not an old man by any means but 30 is positively ancient to children like Hotaru.

“Yeah! Let’s play hide and seek in the forest!”

The children knew the island like the backs of their hands, not one of them would get lost even if they played in the dark. However, Borsalino did not want to be responsible should anything happen to them. He was already in hot water with the locals after all.

But maybe…

“How about we take a hike instead?”

The children whined, “Walking? What’s fun in that?”

“I’ll show you some neat berries I found. There were some cool beetles I saw too.”

Bless children’s attention spans and their endless curiosity. They were more interested in the beetles but they followed Borsalino anyway. The hike was more or less fun. The kids pointed at plants and Borsalino named them, giving out fun facts that made them ooh and ahh. They did find a berry bush and snacked upon them, unknowingly munching on berries Borsalino has planted himself. He was looking forward to making them into jams!

“Here, look.” Borsalino pushed past some branches and revealed a small cliff overlooking the village. It was far from the volcano and one of the highest points on the tiny island.

“Woah! We’re so high up!”

He hummed, “We are. If it should flood, this would be a good place to go to. Just make sure it’s safe from mudslides though, and tell the adults to check for you!”

“The volcano’s been puffing out smoke a lot recently.” Hotaru looked at the view in wonder, “If the volcano were to explode, would we be safe here?”

Borsalino smiled at the sharp child. “From the lava perhaps. But you should cover your faces up too, alright? The ash can be thick and you might suffocate. Wet your clothes and place it over your mouth and nose—”

“That’s silly! The volcano will never explode!”

Borsalino let the children argue, though he did notice Hotaru’s contemplating look.

“You’re in a terrible mood.” Borsalino observed. Sakazuki was furiously scrubbing at the concrete path, the moss and dirt that has built up no match to his anger.

“It’s that priest, Youichi.” Sakazuki spat. He’s been demanding all sorts of things, asking for powers that would rival the gods.”

Borsalino hummed, sitting down at a log to watch Sakazuki work. “Is it not human nature to ask for power? From what I’ve seen, he’s more of a leader than the village elder at this point. Why would he even need more power?”

“He said it was to protect the island, keep it safe from the volcano god. I know he’s up to no good. I sense nothing but corruption within him.” Sakazuki said. “How dare he even call himself a priest at this point? He doesn’t take care of the shrines, doesn’t offer prayers to the gods, and he sure as hell doesn’t take care of the villagers.”

“Maybe a divine power will strike him down? If he’s as evil as you paint him to be, surely the gods of this island would have him stricken by lightning by now.” Borsalino said as a joke.

“It doesn’t work like that!”

Borsalino paused at Sakazuki’s raised voice. It must truly anger the caretaker if he’s this upset. They’ve been seeing each other almost everyday and he hasn’t seen Sakazuki this angry before.

Sakazuki dropped his brush and began pacing around, “The island hasn’t always been like this, but since his family arrived, things have been getting worse and worse. The villagers stopped visiting, there is no more respect when hunting the wildlife, half the festivals have been forgotten.” Sakazuki looked so upset that something in Borsalino ached as well.

“This means a lot to you, huh?” Borsalino wondered out loud.

“Of course it does.” Sakazuki sighed, resuming his brushing, this time at a more sedate pace. He looked defeated. It didn’t suit him, Borsalino decided. He would do something about it.

Borsalino hummed to himself, tapping his finger on his chin. “I could take a look at the local archives. Surely the old village leaders have notes on the old customs this island once had. I could spread word around for you.”

“You’d do that?” Sakazuki asked, looking at Borsalino as if he hung the stars each night.

Borsalino laughs uncomfortably, raising his palms in the air, “Don’t expect too much now, Sakazuki. You may not know it, but I’m the local heretic.” It doesn’t bother him to reveal such a thing to Sakazuki. However, he does feel a tingle of doubt and dread that the other would suddenly shun him.

“Heretic?”

“Don’t you remember? I’m not from this island thus I do not share their views. I’ve been teaching the children to read and have been telling them stories of other deities from other islands and the townsfolk haven’t taken too kindly to my efforts. That priest in particular seems always ready to spit in my face every time we cross paths.”

Sakazuki clenched his fist, “If he does, I’ll make sure he doesn’t have a mouth to spit from anymore.”

Borsalino could feel heat on his cheeks and he looked away. Sakazuki’s always been intense, but not for Borsalino. He…he kind of likes it.

And so, Borsalino’s little quest to spread more knowledge began. He started at the archives, chatting up the archivist and asking about historical records. He framed it as an act of atonement, hoping he would be forgiven of his sins if he poured his heart and soul to the gods of this tiny island. The archivist looked at him with doubt but eventually led him to a dusty shelf containing the records. “I don’t know, Borsalino-san. If you really want to learn about our customs, shouldn’t you be speaking with the priest himself?”

Borsalino chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Youichi-san doesn’t like me very much. I had hoped to at least know the basics before approaching him. It’s the least I could do.”

He made a show of reading the scrolls by the window, occasionally asking the archivist questions about half-forgotten festivals and rituals. He marked it as a success when even the archivist began wondering out loud why they’ve stopped performing such things.

Then came the hunters. They were the intimidating sort, but he figured they wouldn’t harm him too badly for asking questions. He approached them after a good hunt, they were skinning a deer and he walked closer to them, a book under his arm.

“Ne, do you mind answering some of my questions, mister?” He said awkwardly, trying to look as harmless as he could.

“What is it?”

Word has spread of his attempts for atonement and it seemed that the villagers were opening up to him slowly. “I borrowed a book from the archivist and it mentioned a ritual huntsmen usually did when they hunted animals in the forest. Do you also do that?”

“What?”

It took a lot more work to convince the hunters. One even had the bright idea of punching him in the face when he couldn’t answer Borsalino’s questions. In the end, Borsalino was forced to join them on a hunt and they performed the rituals together. “Always aim for a clean kill. Do not make the animal suffer and thank it for its sacrifice. Use every part you can and bury what you cannot.” He wouldn’t lie and say his stomach didn’t flip at the sight of the carcass, but he felt a sense of peace when they buried the remains of the deer.

The hunters took him to the bar and they enjoyed a few drinks together. Perhaps they also felt lighter.

“The volcano looks as if it has calmed down, right?” Borsalino overheard someone from the end of the bar.

“That’s right! I saw Youichi-san coming down with the other priests. I think they did something to appease the volcano god. Must have prayed good and hard if the volcano’s stopped spouting all that ash.”

Borsalino, only half-rational after a few pints, latched on to this. The priests were in the forests with them earlier? Could they have seen him with the hunters then? There was no harm in it, right? Borsalino was finally playing by the island’s rules after all. He got distracted from his thoughts when another pint was pressed to his hand. “This is the last one alright? I don’t want permanent damage on my liver!”

Borsalino sat under the shade of the tree, Sakazuki sitting next to him, leaning against his shoulder to look at the texts. Borsalino ran his fingers along the symbols, slowly reading them so Sakazuki could follow. Winter was almost upon them and yet Borsalino remained warm, his scarf wrapped around their necks despite Sakazuki’s insistence that he was not cold.

“You’re getting better at this.” Borsalino remarked, handing the book to Sakazuki.

“I still prefer you reading to me.” Sakazuki said, running his fingers along the passages they’ve read.

Borsalino laughed, “I think I’ve spoiled you.”

“You’ve done a lot of things for me.” Sakazuki said, “All I can say is that I am grateful. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“What’s with the sudden seriousness?” Borsalino looked at his companion with a smile, “You’re a lot happier, right? The hunters have been showing respect to the animals, and there are talks about reviving the festivals. Soon enough, this place will have visitors again and you won’t have to take care of the shrines alone.” Laughing, the scholar added, “And maybe Youichi-san would finally do his job properly.”

Sakazuki sighed, “That man still hasn’t stopped. He’s getting angry though, he kicked some rotten fences by the shrines a few days ago. He has no respect for this place.”

“I thought he was praying with the other priests. The villagers were so certain it was his doing that caused the volcano’s calmed down.” Borsalino leaned against the trunk.

“All utter nonsense. That man would sooner make the volcano erupt than stop it.” Sakazuki growled. “You’re more of a priest than he is.”

Borsalino laughed, “If this is all it took to be a devout worshiper, then perhaps I shall be the new priest. That way, we can always be together. Right, Sakazuki?”

Sakazuki looked away, red staining his cheeks, “We already are, aren’t we?”

Borsalino also looked away, suddenly too warm. He cleared his throat, “Then again, I am nothing but a heretic. How can I be a priest of something I do not believe in? And aren’t priests supposed to be devoted? I didn’t do all these to earn favor from a god, I just wanted to make you happy.” Too late did he realize the words leaving his mouth. Borsalino panicked, wondering if Sakazuki would think him too forward or crass. He couldn’t take the words back, that would be worse, wouldn’t it? He was pulled away from his thoughts when Sakazuki gripped his hand.

He looked into the gray eyes of Sakazuki and felt his heart skip a beat. “Thank you.” Sakazuki said, “I shall find a way to repay you one day.”

There was a sudden calm. The sunlight passing through the branches highlighted Sakazuki’s sharp features, the singing of the words brought a sense of tranquility to their meeting. “It’s my pleasure.” Borsalino said, lifting Sakazuki’s knuckles to his lips. A believer showing devotion to their deity.

It was only a matter of time before Youchi confronted Borsalino of his new found “faith”.

“Rumor has it that the local heretic has turned over a new leaf.” Youichi said, appearing by Borsalino’s side as the scholar walked across the market.

Borsalino tensed but put on a smile, “You consider me a local now, Youichi-san? I’m flattered.”

“Hardly.” The priest chuckled, eyes curved into a smile. “Walk with me, let’s discuss what you have learned so far.”

Borsalino followed the priest, feeling like a cornered prey.

“You have made great use of the archive, digging up past rituals and festivals.” The priest said.

Borsalino nodded, “It was ignorant of me to push my beliefs into the locals. I thought it only right that I learn your customs in return.”

“The beliefs of the ancestors are…outdated. You would have had better use of your time approaching me if you wanted a thorough education.” Youichi said, sweet venom coating his words. “There is a reason that certain aspects of the faith are forgotten.”

Borsalino hummed, “Perhaps, but it appears that the citizens are quite happy to practice the old ways, don’t you think? And it seems the volcano has calmed down as well. Not like I believe in such things.”

“I thought you had turned over a new leaf?”

“I have educated myself. However, I still prefer believing things I can see with my own two eyes.” Borsalino paused, seeing as they approached the edge of town where there were no longer any people. “I find it odd that the volcano seems to have calmed once the people begin practicing the old faith. I’ve seen the records of the human sacrifices. They used to do it every twenty years, didn’t they? And then a certain family began leading the church and the sacrifices began happening every fifteen and now ten. As a man of faith such as yourself, how long do you reckon until it begins happening every five years? How long until it begins to happen every year?”

The priest remained silent.

“Fear is a great motivator to keep the people under one’s thumb. However, that can be done by mere threats. There’s no reason to truly anger a god you believe in. Unless you have something to gain…?”

Borsalino could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. His damn curiosity and his damn mouth. However, he was quite sure that Youichi had him pegged as the next sacrifice already so he might as well get what he can.

“You are a smart man.” Youichi said before turning away and heading back to town. “Shall I add blasphemer to your title then?”

Borsalino led Sakazuki to the beach, the caretaker looking frustrated as he struggled to keep up with the scholar. “Will you slow down!?”

“No, follow along now, Sakazuki~”

Borsalino swiped away some branches and bushes and Sakazuki was finally able to see the beach. The sun was high and the calm crashing of waves welcomed them. He stopped in his tracks, looking at the small boat laying on the sand. Beside it laid barrels filled with what he assumed were rations.

“What…?”

Borsalino led him toward the tiny vessel with a bright smile. “You like it? It took a while for me to make this. Reading could only go so far, you know? And it’s not like I could ask around town for people to help me either. I took it for a few laps around the island a few days ago and it held up alright.” Borsalino grinned, his fingers running across it in pride.

“You’re leaving?” Sakazuki asked, heat gathering deep within him.

“You sound surprised.” Borsalino remarked, his smile shrinking as he saw Sakazuki’s furrowed brows. “I told you I was waiting for a ship to sail here, remember? It doesn’t seem one will be passing anytime soon, so…”

“So you’re gonna leave on your own?” Sakazuki clenched his fists.

Borsalino leaned against his boat, crossing his arms, “I will, but not yet. I know how dangerous it is to sail off on my own with no clue of where I’m going. I have no idea what islands are close by and the maps on the archives don’t include anything outside.”

Sakazuki yelled, his frustration boiling over, “Then why build this?”

“Because I’m not an idiot.” Borsalino retorted, frowning at Sakazuki’s outburst but not backing away. “The time for the volcano’s sacrifice is approaching and I know the villagers would sooner throw me in there than one of their own.”

“That’s not how that works. Outsiders—”

“‘That’s not how that works?’ Tell that to Youichi. He and his family have remade this island’s beliefs into their own and I don’t fancy risking my life to see if he upholds tradition when faced with a perfectly good outsider to sacrifice.” Borsalino scoffed.

“But you can’t just leave.” Sakazuki insisted. “Don’t I—” He stopped, scowling.

“What is it?” Borsalino frowned. “What were you going to say?”

Sakazuki didn’t answer. He clenched his fist before swinging at the vessel, the wood cracking under his attack.

“Oi!” Borsalino moved to stop him but Sakazuki was relentless. “I said stop it, Sakazuki!”

Borsalino grabbed Sakazuki’s arm, but was pushed aside. He got up, swiped at Sakazuki’s feet and caused the taller man to fall. He pinned Sakazuki down, punching him a few times in the face before Sakazuki rolled them over and began pummeling him. “Why?” Sakazuki screamed at his face, “Why bother doing everything you did if you were just going to leave me eventually?”

Borsalino looked up at him, blood pouring from his nose and lips. Sakazuki didn’t look much better. “You idiot.” He pushed Sakazuki aside, sitting up and wiping his face clean. “If you had just waited, I could have said it properly. I wanted you to join me. We could sail away from here. You wanted to see the rest of the world, didn’t you? I know that it’s dangerous but I thought that together, maybe…” Borsalino shook his head.

“Borsalino,” Sakazuki got up, reaching for his friend’s wrist and holding it tight. “I can’t leave.”

Borsalino brushed him off, “And I can’t stay.”

A moment passed, gray eyes meeting brown. “Forget it.” Borsalino muttered, walking away and leaving Sakazuki at the beach.

Borsalino pretended not to hear Sakazuki’s rage-filled screaming.

Borsalino grumbled to himself as he brushed mildew off one of the concrete slabs in the shrine. His face was still stinging from Sakauki’s punches but the repetitive motion of scrubbing helped distract him from the ache. The volcano had been acting up again all night and he was keen on avoiding the villagers for a while. Their eyes have began looking a little too sharp for his liking.

“Borsalino?” He looked up. Sakazuki was standing a few feet away from him, brows furrowed together and face scrunched.

He kept on scrubbing.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here again.” Sakazuki said after determining Borsalino wasn’t going to say anything.

Borsalino kept scrubbing, adding force in hopes of drowning out Sakazuki’s voice.

“I’m sorry for damaging your boat yesterday. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the better of me.” Sakazuki said, his voice gruff yet soft.

Still nothing.

“And I’m sorry for hitting you.”

Nothing.

Sakazuki frowned, squatting down in front of Borsalino to get a better look at his expression. “Will you at least tell me if I’m doing something right? I haven’t apologized to anyone before.”

“That makes sense.” Borsalino said, finally looking at Sakazuki. After a moment, Borsalino rubbed his hair before sighing. “You’re terrible at apologies but you have a pretty good puppy dog face.”

“What?”

“And you don’t even know you’re doing it. This is just great.” Borsalino muttered, resuming his scrubbing. “Make yourself useful and help me clean. I want to at least clear this path leading to that mausoleum thing over there.”

Sakazuki did as he was asked. He sometimes stole glances at his companion but Borsalino seemed determined to stay focused at his task. Eventually, they did reach the mausoleum, Borsalino pushing a canteen of water and some wrapped rice balls to Sakazuki.

“I’m still annoyed at you.” Borsalino pouted, biting into his meal. “But, I think I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. You don’t look like the type who appreciates surprises.”

Sakazuki nodded, “I’m not. However, I still shouldn’t have hurt you.”

Borsalino stayed silent. The clouds rolled in, thunder following in their wake. “I should get going.” Borsalino sat up but Sakazuki grabbed him by the wrist.

“There’s something I should tell you.” Sakazuki said, keeping his gaze down.

Borsalino sat back down, staying silent to let Sakazuki gather his words. Finally, Sakazuki spoke, his hand still on Borsalino’s wrist. “If I could leave this island with you, I would. I would want nothing more than to see the rest of the world with you and leave all these behind but, there’s a good reason why I cannot.” He paused, looking at Borsalino’s eyes, a feeble attempt to hold on to his one companion. “You are an outsider, a nonbeliever in this island’s gods. I don’t know why you’re so different. Was it the stars themselves who sent you here, does your knowledge grant you the ability to see what others cannot, regardless of the reason, you are the first one in centuries able to see me.”

“Sakazuki…”

“Sakazuki adjusted his grip, taking both of Borsalino’s hands on his own. “I am the volcano god, Borsalino.” Saying this, Sakazuki let go of the illusion he has woven around himself. The marks on his body began to glow bright, a mirror to the molten magma hidden within the depths of the volcano. He expected Borsalino to call him a monster, scorn him, reject his touch—

A hand on his cheek made him look up.

“You’re beautiful.” Borsalino said.

“Wh—how could you…?”

Borsalino chuckled, light and bell-like, as if Sakazuki hadn’t revealed such a devastating secret to his only friend. “I half-thought you were some ghost or a yokai. Looking back, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“They say that people see deities as they imagine them in their minds. How…” Sakazuki couldn’t finish his question.

Borsalino shuffled closer. This time, taking Sakazuki’s hand into his, “I see you, Sakazuki. Just as you appeared before me all those months ago. You have these beautiful markings on you, but other than that…” Borsalino leaned close, “I just see you.”

Sakazuki leaned in as well, their lips meeting as thunder and lightning crashed above their heads.

Later, nestled in each other’s arms, Borsalino and Sakazuki watched the sunrise together for the first time.

“If I don’t get swallowed by the sea, I promise to go back for you, alright?” Borsalino said, hugging Sakazuki. They were at the entrance of the shrine. Sakazuki didn’t want to see Borsalino sail off and Borsalino thought it too painful to watch Sakazuki and the island fade from view so they agreed that this is where they’ll say good bye.

It was a few days before the sacrifice. Borsalino found out that the people’s worship essentially kept Sakazuki alive and the sacrifices were the only thing keeping him tethered though even that was slipping. Not only that, but their belief in the volcano god helped Sakazuki keep a firm control over his powers. If he disappeared or should he lose control, there was no telling what would become of the island.

He has planted seeds within the islanders. They were once again doing the old rituals and his prodding had led to people questioning the current state of things. Just to be sure, he left letters to every household explaining his suspicions of Youichi. He hoped that, even if they go through with the sacrifice, they would sacrifice the true villain in this island instead of some poor innocent soul.

At the dead of night, Borsalino made his way toward the beach. They’ve repaired his little boat and Sakazuki even helped him gather more supplies for his journey. As Borsalino grew closer, he could smell smoke.

He ran, pushing away a branch to reveal his vessel in flames. He was about to run toward it when a sharp blow to the head made him stumble and fall. As his vision darkened, he could see one of Youichi’s fellow priest looking down at him with scorn.

Sakazuki could feel an emptiness within him as Borsalino left. The volcano began blowing ash though he didn’t temper it in. He knew that connecting to a mortal would lead to nothing but ruin for him, but how could anyone possibly expect him to resist Borsalino. The hollowness began to turn into rage as he thought about the unfairness of their situation.

He felt the call of the volcano and frowned. The sacrifice wasn’t until a few days. He closed his eyes, letting his essence spread around the island. The volcano rumbled, magma spilling forth and from it he emerged.

Sakazuki felt rage at the sight before him. Youichi was there in his ceremonial robes, five priests standing by him. At the stone altar lay Borsalino, bound and struggling. The ceremonial torches were lit and the shadows they cast danced under the moonlight.

“Sakazuki.” He gasped, “Help me, please!”

Sakazuki took a step forward. He didn't know what beast he appeared as in the priest’s eyes and he didn’t care. However, he found Youichi’s smirk alarming.

“So it is true.” The priest purred, “I knew this day would come.”

Footsteps.

Sakazuki braced himself, not knowing what was to come. Villagers emerged from the trees, armed with pitchforks and torches. “Stop this, Youichi. We know what you’ve been doing!”

It was the hunters, behind them were other townsfolk. Ryoshi, the leader of the hunters, stepped forward. “When the children said you had captured Borsalino-san, I almost didn’t want to believe it. But now…” The hunter looked at the raging volcano before them, “Can’t you see that you’re only angering the volcano god? All the sacrifices before were done while it was calm, can’t you see—”

“No!” Youichi yelled, other villagers stepped out from the shadows, loyal followers of the priest. “You’re all blind! You’d believe a heretic over your own priest? Then fine. My family has given everything for this island to thrive. We have found a way to stop this madness.”

Youichi pulled out a dagger, “All gods have a god of their own and the one above all is the god of the sea. A weapon crafted from their gifts will draw the blood of any deity.”

“You’re a mad man!”

The townsfolk charged as did Youichi’s men. Amidst the chaos, Sakazuki ran onward Borsalino, burning the ropes tying him and hurling him away just in time to avoid Youichi’s blade.

“All these centuries weakening you, cutting your ties with the villagers, searching for a way to finally fell you—I will not put my ancestor’s efforts to waste. I shall strike you down myself!” Youichi cried out, swiping at Sakazuki.

“You are nothing but a power-hungry mongrel.” Borsalino shouted, picking up a discarded spear as a weapon.

“Keep back!” Sakazuki said, placing himself between the two men. Sakazuki swiped at the priest, hurling burning magma. Youichi dodged, closing the distance between them and thrusting right at Sakazuki’s head. Sakazuki dodged, his right ear getting clipped by the blade. To his surprise, it did not heal immediately.

Youichi grinned, jumping back to avoid Sakazuki’s fists.

Borsalino was horrified to see Sakazuki bleed, “Sakazuki!”

Youichi turned to the scholar before turning back to Sakazuki. Adjusting his grip on the dagger, Youichi made a feint before charging at Borsalino. Borsalino’s eyes widened. He used his spear to block the blade, kicking at the priest when the wood under his hands began to splinter. Sakazuki joined in on the violent dance, refraining from using his magma in case he hurts Borsalino.

Sakazuki’s anger heightened, the volcano rumbling above them.

“Run!” Most of the villagers were running away, frightened to be reduced to ash.

“Borsalino-san, let’s go!”

“You go ahead!”

Sakazuki clenched his fists, trying to calm himself down in case the volcano began raining fire down upon them. The villagers, those who sided with Borsalino, will also get hurt should the volcano erupt right now. It was a distraction that favored Youichi. The priest saw him backing away to gather himself and seized the opportunity. With a single-minded focus, Youichi placed both hands on the dagger’s handle and thrusted, aiming at Sakazuki’s chest.

Sakazuki opened his eyes too late, blood staining his cheek.

“Borsalino!”

The scholar had seen what Youichi had been doing and placed himself in front of Sakazuki. Youichi gasped, looking right at Sakazuki before his gaze turned downward where Borsalino’s spear had pierced him. He fell back, wrenching his cursed dagger from Borsalino with a sickening squelch.

“Borsalino-san!” Ryoshi cried out, rushing forward before being dragged back by his fellows.

“Go!” Borsalino choked out, falling to his knees. “The children know where to go!”

Sakazuki looked at the man he loved and was filled with rage. The volcano erupted, ash darkening the skies and magma bursting from the mouth. He failed. He failed to protect Borsalino. Sakazuki yelled, his voice drowned out by the deafening roar of the volcano.

A touch on his cheek. Cold but familiar.

“Sakazuki,” Borsalino choked out.

Sakazuki blinked, seeing Borsalino before him. He must have stood and stumbled his way to Sakazuki. His breath faltered, Sakazuki wrapped his arms around Borsalino and the scholar did the same.

“It’s alright.” Borsalino whispered, resting his head on Sakazuki’s shoulder. “It’s going to be alright.”

“It’s not.” Sakazuki said, tears pouring from his eyes. “Don’t leave me, please.”

Borsalino pulled away, a sad smile on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Sakazuki shook his head, “Borsalino, please!”

The scholar huffed a laugh, running his hand across Sakazuki’s hair. “I’ll find you again.” Borsalino could no longer support his own weight, falling into his knees with Sakazuki.

“I love you.” Sakazuki said, kissing Borsalino and ignoring the metallic taste of blood on his lips.

Borsalino smiled, “I love you too.” Borsalino grew still, closing his eyes and falling into Sakazuki’s embrace.

Sakazuki gripped him tight, “Please.” He begged, turning his gaze to the sky where a few stars remained visible through the ash. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

A god cannot fall in love with a mortal. It would bring nothing but ruin to them.

The world was vast. How could Borsalino find him again if Sakazuki remained tethered to a small island in the middle of nowhere. “Please.” He pleaded. Finally, the stars seemed to sparkle brighter as if in response. "I'll give you anything."

The volcano let out one last eruption before everything was still.

Two marines shared a drink in the middle of a grassy field on an island in the East Blue. “Do you think those artifacts we retrieved from the bottom of the sea are worth anything?”

The one in the cap scoffed, “It must be if they had all of us guarding it.”

“I wanted to sneak a peak but Zephyr-sensei might skin me alive.” The one in the beanie replied. “Oh look! The lantern festival started!”

“The what?”

“Weren’t you listening earlier? There’s this festival here. Something to do with lighting candles to reunite lovers or something.” He hummed, “Oh! There was a scholar who was supposed to be a human sacrifice to the volcano god, but they fell in love. The volcano god tried to hide the scholar but the priests found them. The scholar was killed and with his last breath, asked the volcano god to spare the island. The volcano gods begged the stars for help and they took the scholar’s spirit and turned him into one of the stars. In exchange, the volcano god must remain asleep. In repentance, the villagers make paper lanterns with drawings of stars and offer them to the volcano every year—their way of bringing the lovers together.”

“Sounds like bullshit.”

“Oh come on, don’t you find it romantic? Besides, the volcano remained dormant for centuries. That has to mean something, right?”

“It means it’s just a mountain.”

“What did you say!?”

Somewhere deep in the woods, the village elder was taking a stroll. He happened upon two marines taking a break and thought nothing of it. Not until he saw them sparring.

Particles of light and burning magma.

He stared in shock, his eyes following the trail of lanterns back to the duo. Perhaps the volcano god has found his scholar once more.