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Chapter Text

The ocean was never truly silent. The sails whispered, ropes creaked, and the sea itself seemed to breathe; steadily inhaling and exhaling against the hull of The Mirage. Most of the members of the crew had already turned in for the night, their laughter having faded below deck, leaving only the sound of snoring and creaking of hammocks as the lookout remains awake at his station, his blonde hair caressed by the salty sea air.

Yeosang was perched high within the crow's nest, his gaze fixed upon the unending horizon. The stars glittered across the rippling waves like spilt treasure. He was supposed to be keeping watch for land, sails or anomalies within the water. Instead, his eyes continued to drift downward, towards the waves. He feels the urge to dive into those depths, to swim and never look back. He ignores it. He can't.

The sea was restless that night. Tossing and turning, turbulent. Unpredictable. To anyone but Yeosang, that is. He could feel a change coming soon. He could currently feel its restlessness beneath the wood and ropes humming in his bones. A sound was threaded within the rhythm of the water, a faint noise. Wordless. Melodic. Almost like a song. The others never felt it, noticed it. Yeosang always did.

‘Yeosang!’

A sharp whisper broke through the noises of the night, diverting Yeosang's attention to his best friend. Wooyoung was dangling halfway up the mast, smirking like a mischievous cat.

‘Captain says to stop brooding again! You're supposed to be watching, not just daydreaming! Nightdreaming? … Whatever!’

Yeosang let out the closest thing to a smile as he could as he let his lips turn up slightly at the corners.

‘I am watching.’

He returned his gaze to the currents below.

Wooyoung followed his gaze to the ocean waves, climbing up to join him at his post.

‘Looking at what? There's nothing but water down there. Surely it can't be that interesting?’

Yeosang did not answer. The ocean was rippling in the pale moonlight, alive. Staring straight back at him.

‘You're so weird.’ Wooyoung laughs at him, loud and vibrant as usual. The following response comes not from Yeosang, but instead from their captain, Hongjoong.

‘Wooyoung! Get to bed instead of waking up the rest of the crew! You and I both know that if you don’t sleep, you'll be useless tomorrow!’

Cackling, he waved goodnight to Yeosang and slid down the mast dramatically, landing with a flourish. Hongjoong just sighed and shook his head as he pointed in the direction of the cabin. Hongjoong looked to Yeosang.

‘Will the ocean be kind tonight?’

He asked it with a smirk, well aware of Yeosang's strange affinity and connection to the water, to the waves. To the crew, it's an oddity of his. Something that endears them more to him as a person. And perhaps it is an oddity, but Yeosang knows he will never be able to tell them the real reason for his love for the water.

Yeosang replied, ‘Yes, captain. The waters are restless and angry, but… they will calm down soon.’

He then returned to his observation of the horizon, not expecting a response from the stressed-out, tired captain. It had been a rough few days for all of them, enemy ships becoming more and more present on these waters. Satisfied, Hongjoong left with a nod, leaving Yeosang alone once again.

Now completely unobserved, he moved to unjam one of the crates kept in his crow's nest. He knows no one will be tempted to look in there. He took out his treasure.

In his arms, he now held a plush, soft pelt. His nightwatch was the only time he had to reunite both parts of himself and feel some semblance of completeness. Snuggling his most precious possession close to his cold body, he felt a longing to put it on, to hide, to return to the ocean. His selkie pelt. The temptation continued to claw at him. Just a few minutes would be ok. Just enough to feel whole. No. He shook off the feeling, allowing it to wash over him.

He feels the ocean's song, calm and beautiful and reassuring. He closes his eyes...

But then it starts singing of danger, as it becomes somewhat frantic and desperate. It wanted him to listen, to heed his warning, and he did. He would inform the rest of the crew of his… predictions.

—------------------------------------------------------------
When Yeosang had first been recruited into Ateez, led by the fearsome Captain Hongjoon, he had been simple and unknown. His doe eyes were full of so much ambition and appetite for adventure that Hongjoong had been unable to turn him away, as normal as he was. Despite the rest of the crew all being extremely talented and experienced already, despite their young ages, they had taken to him equally as easily, finding him cute and adorable, much to his mirth.

No one knew how Yeosang made his predictions. Predictions of the weather, of winning bets or even of incoming danger.
The first time, no one had believed him. He’d finally worked up the courage and told them that despite the calm waters of the moment, there would be a massive storm if they continued in that direction. They had laughed it off as a quirk of his, his unending anxiety and shyness to express himself.

That afternoon, there was a storm so big the ship almost capsized.

It was a while until Yeosang tried to help again.

The second time, he had predicted that the map they were using was a decoy, and that the treasure would not be at that location, but instead at another place that he pointed at on a bigger map. They'd again laughed it off until they arrived and found no such treasure. Annoyed, they'd continued to the location Yeosang had mentioned, not expecting to find anything there.

Right at the location he'd marked, there was a giant overflowing chest of small treasures and trinkets, slightly hidden by a boulder.

The third time, Yeosang warned Hongjoong that there would be an enemy ship waiting to ambush the next ship that arrived at a hidden alcove. This time, Yeosang had seemed genuinely distressed.

Wooyoung had backed him up, proclaiming, ‘Our sangie would never lie! We should believe him. Look! I said Look, captain!! Look at his sad face…’

They had changed course.

Then, overheard at the next port of another pirate crew that had been slaughtered by a group of pirates hidden in the same alcove.

From then on, no one doubted him. If he told them something would happen, they listened. If they told him the wind was better in the other direction, they'd listen. And soon, rumours of his talent had spread fast, many a captain trying to recruit their ‘precious yeosangie’ (as put by San)

No one knew why or how Yeosang would receive these predictions. He traced the waves with his gaze, feeling their pull, their hidden warnings. No one could see it, and no one would ever know - not unless he let them.

—------------------------------------

Now, the frantic song of the ocean continued, threading through the night like a warning he could not ignore. Yeosang tensed, his hands gripping tightly to the edge of the crow’s nest. Something was coming. He glanced down toward the deck. The rest of the crew slept soundly, unaware of the subtle shift in the wind and the rising pressure in the water. A faint sense of urgency prickled along his spine.

Yeosang tucked the selkie pelt closer against his chest, resisting the temptation to put it on. He knew the danger of breaking his own rules - even a brief transformation could leave a trace for the wrong eyes to follow. He could not let them find him.

Quietly, he adjusted the spyglass at his side, scanning the horizon with sharp, practised eyes. A faint silhouette moved in the water far off to the east. It was darker than the waves themselves. A ship? Or something else entirely? His chest tightened and his fingers curled around the spyglass, but his breathing stayed steady. The ocean’s song guided him, ebbing and flowing with the rhythm of the impending danger. Carefully, he descended the mast and crept towards the cabin. The boards of The Mirage creaked beneath his feet, but the sounds were natural enough to avoid drawing attention. He realised that in his haste, he hadn't yet put away his pelt. Instead, he hid it beneath his coat for the time being. It would be ok. He could replace it later.
Below deck, he paused at the door of the captain’s cabin, debating whether to wake Hongjoong. He had always been shy and unsure. This time, he could feel that this was serious. Whatever it was, he could not keep it to himself. He knocked lightly on the door.

‘Captain?’

A rustle. A groan. Then a muffled reply.

‘Yeosang, you can come in.’

Taking a deep breath, he slipped inside. “Captain,” he whispered, voice low but firm. “I think… we need to adjust our course. There’s… something coming.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed, the tired lines of his face sharpening in the dim light. “Something?”

Yeosang nodded. “The ocean is… uneasy. I can feel it. And I’ve seen a shadow moving along the horizon. We should prepare.”

The captain studied him tiredly for a moment, and then, with a decisive nod, he rose. “Very well.’

There was no time to waste as the blonde ran to the deck to ring a warning bell and wake up the rest of the crew. They would need to prepare for a fight. The ocean warned him, but it was too late to avoid it now.

—---------------------------------------
The dark silhouette on the horizon had no patience. Lanterns flared along the enemy ship’s deck, sails snapping like angry claws, and Yeosang realised with a sudden jolt: they were headed straight for The Mirage.

“Enemy at the bow!” Hongjoong barked, snapping into action.

“San, Jongho, take the cannons. Wooyoung, Yeosang, get ready to repel boarding!”

Yeosang gritted his teeth, muscles tensing as his hands gripped the railing. His body moved on instinct, honed by years at sea. This was not his first fight. He knew well how to anticipate the waves, how to dodge shrapnel, how to counter with precision. The crew had all become a single, fluid machine.

“Got the starboard side!” San shouted, hauling a cannon into place. Jongho and Yunho braced, loading with practised efficiency. Mingi swung a rope overhead, ready to lunge at any grappling hook that came too close. Hongjoong barked orders, moving from deck to deck like a storm incarnate.

Yeosang’s sharp eyes caught the enemy’s first cannon fire, a bolt tearing into the railing near him. He twisted to avoid it, but a jagged splinter still scraped his side, followed by a hot stab of pain that shot through his ribs. He stumbled against the railing, biting back a grunt. The fight wasn’t new to him, but this wound was deep enough to slow him.

“Yeosang!” Wooyoung yelled, leaping across the deck. “You’re bleeding! Step back!”

“I’m fine!” Yeosang snapped, though the blood soaking through his coat argued otherwise. “Keep your eyes on-”

A grappling hook slammed into the deck beside him, sending splinters flying. Yeosang tumbled sideways, falling to the floor and losing his grip on his coat. The selkie pelt, soft and glimmering even in the dim lantern light, slipped out onto the floor in the commotion. Wooyoung’s eyes widened next to him.

“Something fell out of your coat!” Wooyoung hissed, grabbing it from next to his feet and staring at it with confusion. Yeosang felt his heart stop.

His panic must have been visible on his face as Wooyoung reassured him, “Sangie… It’s okay. I’ve got it. Whatever it is”

Yeosang blinked, wincing against the pain. He could feel himself getting weaker, and he couldn't move; all he could do was trust his best friend to keep him safe.

“Keep it hidden… don’t let anyone see it.”

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew moved like clockwork. Jongho and Yunho fired volley after volley, San rolled between cannons to reload, Hongjoong leapt atop the enemy’s railing with a roar, and Wooyoung shielded the pelt while keeping an eye on the grappling hooks. The Mirage rocked with the assault, but the crew’s coordination and experience kept them from faltering.
Yeosang’s mind raced. He couldn’t transform, but he could still help, even injured. His mind called out to the ocean, calming it down to stop the tumultuous currents that were affecting Ateez and slowing their movements. Every so often, he felt Wooyoung’s reassuring grip on the pelt, a tether to the part of himself he could not yet reveal to the world. And as The Mirage held steady against the relentless assault, Yeosang could barely keep himself awake, fatigue from the blood loss claiming him. He could hear a cheer from his friends and crewmates; his crew had won.

‘Yeosang!’

 

Then he slipped into blackness.

Chapter Text

The battle was over, but the deck of The Mirage remained far from peaceful. Broken planks creaked underfoot, and the acrid sting of the lingering gunpowder was hanging in the air. Thundering footfall rang through the night air as the crew ran around, ascertaining the damage done and the repairs that would be needed. Just what they needed right now. At least the sea had calmed significantly in the wake of the chaos.

Yeosang lay slumped against the rusted railing where Wooyoung had managed to drag his blessing form out of the chaos, his face pale and breath shallow. His coat was still torn open from the splinter’s strike, and the blood would not stop, no matter how hard Wooyoung pressed fabric against his wound. More pressing, however, was the bundle that remained safe and concealed beneath Wooyoung's arm. Soft, glimmering and impossibly strange.

He hadn’t let it go once.

‘Yunho! Someone help him!’ Wooyoung's voice cracked as he looked wildly to the rest of the crew, his desperation thick in every word.

Yunho ran over and knelt beside Yeosang, his usual calm and collected disposition edged with worry. ‘It's… very deep. I’ll need to clean it, stitch it.’ His eyes briefly flicked to the bundle hidden under Wooyoung's arm, but he said nothing.

Hongjoong stormed across the deck, his sword still drawn and his face hard with victory. His gaze immediately softened as he looked upon the injured lookout.

‘Damn it, Yeosang! You should have pulled back!’ He threw his sword down with a stomp of frustration, before crouching low beside Yeosang, his hand brushing along the blonde's arm in a rare display of gentleness. ‘Stay with us.’

Yeosang stirred faintly, eyelids fluttering and vision swimming. He looked to Wooyoung, who kneeled next to him, his eyes and his voice desperate.

‘...don’t…. Let it go….’ It was faint and almost a whisper.

Wooyoung tightened his grip around the plush swathe he had half-hidden under his arm, and said with a resolute nod ‘I won’t. I promise you, Sangie.’

With that, it was as if someone flicked a switch, and Yeosang finally succumbed to the weakness and fully and truly passed out.

As Yunho fussed about him and assessed his wounds, Jongho appeared beside them. His arms were full of heavy splintered wooden planks from clearing some of the mess from the deck. His sharp eyes quickly caught on to the strange way that Wooyoung was clutching the bundle, as if it were something precious.

‘What’s that?’

Wooyoung froze, his smile faltering as he pushed it up inside his coat to obscure it from further eyes. ‘Nothing important!’ Nice one. That wasn’t suspicious at all.

But now Hongjoong was watching them, his gaze narrowed and calculating the way it always did when someone tried to keep secrets aboard his ship. Not now, though. It wasn’t the time for an interrogation.

‘Get Yeosang below deck. Yunho, do what you can.’

The crew proceeded to move quickly at the captain’s command, but in the back of Wooyoung's mind, the weight of the pelt burned like fire. Yeosang begged him to keep it safe. And Wooyoung intended to - even if that entailed hiding it from the very crew that they trusted their lives with. Wooyoung was many things, and loyalty was one of them.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yeosang’s body remained still, but his mind was anything but. His mind drifted far beyond the confines of The Mirage.

He was suspended in endless water, the ocean cradling him soothingly, cool and weightless. Its steady pulse thrummed through his bones. Normally, this melody was calming, a gentle lullaby of tides and stars, of secrets whispered beneath the waves. But tonight it fractured, discordant and urgent.

It shuddered.

Broke.

‘Danger’

The currents tugged at him, pulling him further into their embrace. Voices rose within the current, layered and overlapping. Ancient and insistent. They refused to speak words, but Yeosang could still understand them as clearly as he understood his own heartbeat.

They are searching.
They are close.
You must not be found.

A shape started to emerge from the corners of his vision, mirrored by the waters above him. It seemed as if the expanse had begun to fold onto itself. Water upon water-stretching into forever. As it drew closer, it became more identifiable as a ship. Larger and more menacing than any he had ever encountered before, its sails casting jagged shadows. Upon the prow stood a figure. The face was hidden, but its malice radiated outwards. He felt its eyes pierce through the water, as if deeking him. A hunter stalking its prey.

The waters began to writhe violently.

He reached out purely on instinct, his hands sliding through the water like fins, as the water caressed him, wrapping around him like a second skin.

‘Trust them’

The shadowy figure began to raise their hand, as the water between them began to churn faster. It dragged him down… down… down….

‘Yeosang!’

His eyes flew open, and the darkness was cracked apart. His senses brought him back to the warm familiarity of the ship, to the stinging of his wounds and the hands of Yunho assessing his wounds. Wooyoung was clutching onto him as if he could keep him tethered to life through sheer willpower, mumbling nonsensical words of relief. His head spun as multiple voices started tearing through his mind at once. Too many. He flinched and tried to roll over, hide under the pillow.

He was stopped by an exasperated Yunho, who tugged him onto his back again. ‘Don’t move, you idiot! You’ll tear your stitches!’ His voice was stern, but threaded with hints of worry too.

‘Give him space, idiots! He probably can't even breathe with all of you hovering!’ Seonghwa snapped at the others, though he had grabbed onto Yeosang’s arm himself.

‘Yeosangie…’ Wooyoung’s voice was shaky as he looked at him, quieter and more reserved than usual.

He tried to process the blur of faces that crowded around him in the tiny room. San and his wide-eyed relief, Jongho’s furrowed brows, Hongjoong's sharp gaze, Mingi's endless pacing, and mumbled comments. ‘Knew that cannon was too close…’ it was a lot all at once. He looked over to his best friend, pleading for a rescue. His side was throbbing like it was on fire, and bandages were wrapped too tightly around his ribs. His head was hurting, and his throat felt like sandpaper. But none of that mattered.

Because in Wooyoung’s lap, carefully bundled into a mass of thick cloth was his pelt.

He froze, panic clawing at his chest, affecting him more than the pain ever could.

‘Wooyoung’, he croaked softly, throat hoarse.

‘Shhhhh…’ Wooyoung quieted him with a shake of his head, eyes unwavering ‘It’s safe, don't worry. I promise.’

Hongjoong, with his ever-sharp gaze and commanding presence, let his eyes linger on the pair for a moment longer than was comfortable, but said nothing. Seonghwa and Yunho were preoccupied with retying his bandages, and San with whether Yeosang had drunk water. Jongho and Mingi had started… collectively pacing? He didn’t question it. He felt relief blossom in his chest.

He lay back, letting out a shaky breath, downing the flask of water that San handed to him. ‘The ship, ’ he murmured. ‘Did we win?’

The crew burst into heavy laughter. The sound was comforting and familiar.

Hongjoong's lips quirked upwards, his voice remaining sharp as steel as he spoke.

‘We won, barely. Thanks to your warning.’ Then softly, ‘You scared us all.’

Yeosang briefly closed his eyes, letting their voices and laughter pour over him. The ocean's whisper faded, leaving an echo of unease in it’s wake.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The afternoon after the attack, The Mirage was gently rocked by calm waves. The crew moved with a quiet and learned rhythm, repairing the torn sails and cleaning splintered wood. It was hard, gruelling work, but it brought with it laughter and chatter, which filled the deck with life.

Yeosang was sitting on a crate near the railing on the deck, unable to climb the mast to the crow’s nest in his current state. As he tied and tightened the ropes, he remained fully aware of the deep ache in his ribs, and his heart raced whenever Wooyoung came near as if expecting to be confronted or interrogated. He could barely meet the others' eyes without feeling immensely guilty.

He adjusted the tension in the pulleys, ensuring the sail would hold when a voice broke his concentration.

‘Sangie! Come help me with this sail instead of feeling sorry for yourself!’ Wooyoung called with a smirk, tugging at the taut ropes.

‘I.. I can’t my ribs…’ a beat passed.

Wooyoung appeared crouched beside him, his expression soft. ‘I was only teasing!’ He nudged Yeosang softly, and the blond's gaze dropped to his coat, where he could see the tiniest sliver of his pelt underneath it. He panicked, but before he could say anything, Wooyoung had shifted slightly, pretending to adjust his own coat and allowing the pelt to fall into Yeosang's arms. With a start, Yeosang hid it under his own coat quickly and naturally. Wooyoung gave no comment, just smiled and nodded at him.

‘Thanks, ’ Yeosang murmured, voice low with a slight blush on his face.

Wooyoung’s reply was quiet and steady, ‘Always, Sangie’

The moment was over quickly. Wooyoung bounded over to San to help with the sail. The rest of the crew seemed blissfully unaware. For now, his secret was safe.

—---------------------------------

The ship was especially quiet that night. The kind of calm that only fell after chaos. One by one, the crew had collapsed exhausted into their hammocks, their bodies worn down by battle and repairs, until all that could be heard from them was loud snoring and the creaking as they tossed and turned.

Yeosang had tried to fall asleep, curled into a blanket that draped across his prone form. His ribs throbbed with each breath, the ache never dulling. He tossed and turned, a murmuring pulse threading through the hull and to him, never fully allowing him to let go of his lingering uneasiness. It had settled deep into his bones.
So now he found himself sat alone next to the railing above deck, his old thin blanket now haphazardly draped across his shoulders as he hunched into himself, shielding himself from the chilly air. Suddenly, the scraping of boots across the deck drew his attention. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

A yawn. ‘Couldn’t sleep?’ Wooyoung's voice, usually ruthlessly teasin,g was soft, carrying underlying feelings of care. He carried with him two steaming mugs of tea and sat down beside him, not waiting for permission or acknowledgement. ‘Are you feeling ok?’

‘I’m fine’, was Yeosang's reply, though his taut shoulders and tensed finger gave him away.

‘Liar,’ Wooyoung said with a small smirk, holding out a mug. ‘Drink this before you keel over again. Don’t make me drag you back to Yunho.’

Yeosang took the mug hesitantly, letting the warmth of the hot liquid seep into his chilled hands. He sipped slowly, allowing the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull and the creaking of the ship to fill the silence. Silence between them was never awkward; it was comfortable. Something that Yeosang was currently very grateful for.

Wooyoung shifted closer, his gaze steady and unwavering. ‘You don’t have to tell me what it is,’ he said gently after a moment of hesitation. ‘I don’t know what it is or why it’s so important to you, but whatever it is that you’re hiding, I'll keep it safe. I'll trust you to decide when… if you can tell me’

Yeosangs gripped his mug tighter. He felt the intense longing to confide in him, to release his secret that he had carried with him for so long. But… what if sharing changed the way they looked at him? What if he lost their trust or worse, put them in danger?

‘Trust them’

Even if he couldn’t tell them the full truth, Wooyoung deserved some form of explanation.

‘It’s…. Complicated,’ he said softly, voice almost lost to the wind. ‘Something I can’t share…not yet. If it fell into the wrong hands, I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t even be me anymore’

Wooyoung kept his gaze firm, his form steady. ‘Then I’ll keep it safe. I trust you. Just… don’t ever doubt me, Sangie. Ok?’

The words struck deep. Yeosang wanted to speak and express the gratitude, the relief, the fear inside him, but his throat was tight and raw with emotions that he held back. For a long moment, they stayed quiet, simply soaking in each other's presence. Slowly, Yeosang allowed the tension inside to loosen, leaning closer to Wooyoung to rest his head on the other's shoulder.

‘I-’ he started, quiet and uncertain ‘I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.’

Wooyoung's answering smile was soft, his hand beginning to rake his fingers through Yeosang’s hair. Gentle and reassuring. ‘You don’t have to. Just… promise me something. Please. Trust us. All of us. Let the crew in when you’re ready to. We’ll be here, always.’

The words sank into Yeosang like a gentle tide, soothing the fear and guilt that had him gripped tightly. He let his body melt further into his best friend, and together they fell once again into peaceful silence. For now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

The sunrise was always a beautiful phenomenon for those on the seas. The sun's rays rose over the horizon, spilling their golden warmth across the sea and the crew, who woke up at the crack of dawn. The ship still bore its scars from the battle that had occurred three days ago. Splintered wood had been roughly patched, a torn sail had been restitched crookedly, and the deck itself had taken a bit of a beating. The air became lighter as the sun rose, loud voices and laughter rising and rolling like waves across the deck.

Yeosang was sitting near the starboard railing, fiddling with the knots in the ropes and testing the rigging for defects. His ribs still ached whenever he tried to lift something heavy or to bend over, but at least he could do light tasks to keep his mind occupied and feel like a useful part of the crew. He had tried to convince Yunho to let him help with more strenuous activities, and…the scolding he incurred was not an experience he wished to repeat. His fingers worked automatically, on muscle memory. Looping and pulling. But his eyes continued to betray him. They wandered.

The sea was a surface of diamonds in the bright sun, a stretch of endless blue and silver. Shimmering and alive. Its rhythm spoke to him in a gentle pull that longed to pull him into the waves. To take him under their cover, never to surface again. And selfishly, he wanted to listen. To let it embrace him and take him away.

‘Oi don’t tell me you’re sulking again.’

The voice made him jolt up, startled out of his thoughts and fumbling with the knot. He looked up to see San balancing a large stack of planks across his shoulder with almost infuriating ease. His grin was wide and teasing, his eyes shining with energy. San dropped the planks unceremoniously with a thud as he crouched beside him, his head tilting like a curious bird.

Yeosang couldn’t blame him. He was literally the definition of ‘sulking’ at this point.

‘I wasn’t.’ He chose to say instead, spoken too quickly as he tugged the ropes tighter and reattempted the knot.

San’s brow was raised, clearly amused. ‘Uh huh. Right. You’re sitting there staring at the water with your serious face. If you stare any harder, it’ll start staring back.

Yeosang's lips twitched, despite himself. ‘Well. Maybe it already is.’

San barked out a laugh at that, loud enough to make Wooyoung and Jongho’s heads turn from the other end of the ship, where they were bickering. Flopping onto the deck next to him, he stretched out his legs along the deck, back against the railing. ‘Creepy. Remind me never to swim near you again.' Then, his face morphed into a slightly less amused expression. ‘Seriously though. Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours? Or do I have to guess?’

‘I'm fine. Tired.’ The words came out sharp and scathing.

San, however, did not seem offended. He leaned back further, observing the bustle of the crew. Wooyoung and Jongho were still arguing over knots. Yunho measuring planks. Seonghwa and Mingi were bickering while they hoisted a sail. It was loud, messy, chaotic. But it was home.

‘You know,’ Started San after a moment, ‘We all go through times when we stare out at the horizon like that. Wondering if there’s another place we’re supposed to be. Another path that could’ve been taken. Another place we’d rather be.’ He turned his head to grace Yeosang with a small sideways smile. ‘But then someone yells at you to stop slacking and scrub the deck and POOF… It's gone.’

Yeosang simply rolled his eyes with a small grin. ‘That’s not very inspiring.’

‘It’s not meant to be!’ Came the cheerful reply. ‘It’s just life.’ He moved to bump Yeosang’s shoulder with his own. ‘And for the record, we kind of like having you here. So don’t go floating off anywhere. Mkay?’

The words stirred warm emotions in Yeosang's chest, as he ducked his head, pretending to hyperfocus on the rope in his lap. The blush did not help. ‘I wasn’t planning to…’

‘Good.’ San stood up, hefting up the planks with a grunt, loud and dramatic as usual. ‘Because if you disappear, Wooyoung will cry, Yunho will nag me instead, and Jongho will take my bed. And I like my bed.’

Yeosang snorted at the illogical nature of San’s thoughts, shaking his head.

San grinned triumphantly. ‘There it is. I knew I could drag a laugh out of you.’ With a wink, he strode back towards the others, where Hongjoong was now barking orders and trying to mediate.

The longing didn’t fade as he was left alone once again with the sea and his rope; it never did. But neither did San’s words.

We kind of like having you here

—-------------------------------------------------------------

The Mirage arrived in the harbour by midmorning. Its patched sails hung limply, and the hull creaked, yet it remained a beautiful sight. The dockworkers staggered at her approach, muttering amongst themselves. Some spitting into the sea for luck.

‘Pirates,’ hissed one of them, which Yeosang heard as he began to lean his head out of the railing. It always fascinated him, the mix of fear and curiosity that always seemed to follow them. Stories, true or not. Rumours and gossip always ran rampant within the harbour.

As soon as the ship was secured, Hongjoong began barking orders again. ‘Seonghwa, Mingi, you’re on the hull repairs. San, Wooyoung, Yunho, Jongho, supplies. Jongho, stay with Yeosang. And don’t let him lift a single damn barrel, you hear me? I swear, Yeosang, you have no self-preservation. You’ve done enough bleeding this month already.’

Yeosang only nodded mutely, clutching his coat tighter around himself. The ache in his ribs was duller now but persistent. As much as he longed for the familiar quiet of the crow’s nest, he knew he’d never win against Hongjoong's command.

Wooyoung clapped him on the shoulder, grinning as he walked past. ‘Stay out of trouble, Sangie. Don’t let Jongho drag you into any fist fights!’

Jongho rolled his eyes with a huff, hefting a coin patch from his belt. ‘I’m the one keeping him out of trouble.

Yeosang almost smiled at their banter. Almost.

—----------------------------------------

Yeosang always loved going into towns when they were on land. This was no exception. The town was alive in a way that the ship never was. The streets were packed with merchants, calling out prices and haggling with customers. The scent of roasted fish and sweet breads filled the air as they walked past market stalls, seagulls squawking overhead. Colour everywhere, vibrant and exciting.

Jongho navigated it with the expertise of someone used to being underestimated. Instead of swaggering around like Wooyoung or making friends with townspeople like San, he simply glared at anyone who looked too closely or for too long, letting his muscles do most of the talking when haggling. Yeosang supposed that for someone who didn’t know him as intimately as they did, their youngest could seem scary or intimidating. Not the big softy he secretly was.

He followed half a step behind, peering into stalls and observing the market-goers. He tried to ignore the constant tugging in his chest. It felt like a string tied around his heart, tighter and tighter as the day went on. Backwards, towards the shore. He could almost hear the waves over the noise of the market. Could smell the salt and feel the breeze on his face. Could feel the freedom of letting go. His hands itched for the pelt hidden under his coat. He had no idea why it had gotten so strong all of a sudden.

‘Oi. Pay attention’ Jongho muttered without looking back, used to Yeosang being distant and oblivious to what goes on around him. Jongho handed a light sack of onions to him. ‘Hold this. Careful.’

‘I was paying attention…’

‘Right.’ Jongho’s response was flat. Not laced with mockery or amusement, but simple understanding.

They wound their way deeper into the town, bartering for dried fish, flour, and whatever salted meats the locals could afford to sell them. When Yeosang went to stand in a shaded corner by the tavern, allowing Jongho to just do his thing while he waited, Yeosang overheard the whisper of a conversation. He froze.

‘...another ship sighted two nights ago. Black sails. Fast as death itself.’

He lingered, his head just barely peeking out around the corner as he strained to hear what they were saying. The voices came from two fishermen mending nets. Older men with weathered faces and scarred hands.

‘They say it’s hunting something. The crew's been scouring every inlet and harbour from here to the cape. Looking for a prize worth all the blood they've spilt.’

‘Treasure?’

‘Not gold, something rarer. A creature, maybe? Mark me, the sea’s stirred for a reason.’

Yeosang’s blood ran cold. Stumbling back, he bumped into Jongho, who grabbed him by the elbow to right him before the sack of onions could spill across the cobbled street.

‘Careful,’ was all he said. His eyes flicked questioningly between Yeosang and the fishermen.

‘Sorry’, Yeosang muttered in response, pulling his coat tighter as if it could shield the frantic pounding of his heart.
—---------------------------------------------------------------

By the time they’d all finished gathering supplies, the majority of the crew had made their presence well known. They were now parading around as a group, attracting annoying amounts of attention. San was arm-wrestling in the doorway of a tavern, cheering so loudly when he won that passersby stopped to watch the commotion. Wooyoung somehow had a crowd gathered around him as he ‘magically’ produced coins from behind children’s ears, while Yunho tried to haggle with a blacksmith for replacement nails, utterly done and exasperated by all of the noise around him.

Hongjoong was sitting at the dockmaster’s table, voice calm but iron-edged as he secured the right for them to stay docked for the night.

Yeosang just hovered around the edge of it all, envying the ease with which they seemed to be able to laugh, drink and enjoy themselves without the constant weight of longing weighing on their shoulders. A voice broke through his thoughts.

‘You’ve got the ocean in your eyes, boy.’

He turned sharply to see a merchant selling shells grinning at him, teeth yellowed from years of smoking.

His breath caught, turning away before he could reply, pulse racing. Suddenly, Jongo was at his side, one hand on his shoulder, as he faced the merchant.

‘Don’t’ was all he said. Whether it was a warning to Yeosang or the Merchant was unclear. He let himself be led away.
—----------------------------------------------------

When the sun began to dip below the horizon, they returned to the mirage where Mingi and Seonghwa were waiting, exhausted. Their arms were full of bags of food, tools and cheap trinkets that they insisted were necessary.

Yeosang lingered at the gangplank, the sea stretching out beneath him. He felt that familiar yearning again, the impossible urge to just… let go. One step and he’d be free, swallowed whole by salt and silence.

His mind, unhelpfully, supplied an image of the crew reacting: San probably screaming dramatically, Wooyoung trying to fish him out with a bucket, Jongho rolling his eyes while diving in after him. He almost snorted aloud. Yeah, real dignified way to disappear.

‘Don’t even think about it, hyung.’

Yeosang startled, eyes darting towards the younger, who moved to nudge his shoulder with his own. Hands on his hips. Solid and steady as always. Jongho’s gaze was unreadable, almost expressionless. It was almost funny. Jongho was supposed to be the youngest, wasn’t he? The one looked after? Yet here he was. Looking after him instead.

‘I wasn’t…’ Yeosang replied, voice cracking.

Jongho simply hummed. He took the heavier bags from his arms. ‘Come on. San’s already bragging that he could out-drink the whole town. If we don’t stop him, he’ll try to prove it.’

Yeosang let out a small snort as he followed the younger.
—-----------------------------

That night wasn’t peaceful. It was loud, lively and full of laughter as the crew sat together, drinking cheap rum under the stars.

The sea still whispered its promises of freedom, but as Jongho sat beside him with a plate of stolen sweet bread and San shoved a cup into his hand, he let himself listen to them instead.

Yeosang was never much of a drinker, unlike the rest of the crew. The rum burned his throat as he took a sip. He decided to set the cup aside, pretending to drink it slowly while the others argued and sang and laughed.

San had climbed onto a barrel, leading some half-forgotten sea shanty. His voice was booming and ridiculously off-key, but the crew joined in anyway, clapping and stomping in rhythm. Jongho was sitting cross-legged on the deck, face red, peeling the shell from a roasted crab with the seriousness of someone dismantling a musket. Wooyoung kept stealing bits of food from his plate, rewarded with a smack to the hand each time. Of course, he would not be deterred.

The chaos strangely made Yeosang feel more at ease, more at home. Helping alleviate his mind of many of the worries he’d been harbouring. He allowed himself to cheer on the others, properly laughing as he watched.

‘Captain.’ Yunho’s serious voice cut through the din.

Hongjoong looked up from where he had been rolling dice with Seonghwa. Yunho’s serious face and no-nonsense voice were not good signs.

‘I’ve heard talk in this town.’ Yunho started, ‘About another ship. Black sails. Ruthless crew. Attacking whoever is unlucky to be in their path.’

It was eerie how fast the laughter on deck dimmed down.

‘What kind of talk?’ Hongjoong asked.

‘That they’re hunting something.’ Yunho’s eyes flicked briefly towards Yeosang and then back. ‘Not treasure nor gold.’

Yeosang’s breath caught, forcing himself not to look up or move.

Hongjong's expression remained unreadable as he processed the information. He stood up, tossing aside the dice as he addressed the ship. ‘We’ve all heard plenty of rumours over the years. But if this ship is real, it’s simply another enemy to outwit. Nothing more.’

The crew nodded, some more convinced than others. San muttered something under his breath about out-drinking them if it came to it, which earned a round of laughter, easing some of the tension.

But Hongjoong’s gaze lingered. Longer than it should have. And when Yeosang finally glanced up, the weight of it pinned him in place.

—------------------------------------------
‘Oi sangie!’ Seonghwa's voice called out later that night from behind him, cheerful and unbothered. Yeosang jumped, dropping the bundle he’d been embracing when he’d thought he was alone, tripping over in the process.

‘Seonghwa! Don’t sneak up like that!’ Yeosang hissed, a small, embarrassed smile on his face as he hurried to hide the bundle again. He began to panic a little. Trying to look as unsuspicious and natural as possible.

Seonghwa leaned on the wall of the cabin with a grin. ‘Relax, I’m here to supervise. Or, you know… make sure the captain doesn’t explode over nothing again?

Yeosang chuckled. ‘You think the captain will explode over me?’

‘Absolutely, ’ Seonghwa leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. ‘I’ve seen it in his cabin. You disappear from your post for 5 minutes, he thinks you’ve been swallowed by a kraken, you show up with something mysterious and BOOM… Hongjoong drama theatre. Full production.’

So he’d seen him hide it. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, cheeks heating up. ‘I…I just… its important, ok? I can’t… I don't want anyone else to…’

‘Hey, hey, hey,’ interrupted Seonghwa, waving a hand. ‘Take a breath. I get it. I won't tell that you’re hiding something. Not even a hint. Besides… if he really wants to blow his top, that’s his problem. Not yours.’

Yeosang laughed, then winced from the pressure on his ribs. ‘Thank you. For being on my side.’

Seonghwa's only answer was a reassuring smile. ‘Now, let's distract ourselves till we get tired, ok? Let’s make sure these ropes don’t strangle the sails.’

They worked in silence for a few minutes. Until Seonghwa started making playful comments over his shoulder. ‘You know, if the ropes could talk, they’d probably ask why you’re trying to give them a heart attack. And don't even get me started on the sails. They'd be screaming for sure.’

Yeosang smirked, tugging tighter. ‘I just want to make sure nothing falls apart. I can’t help with most tasks right now. I… want to be useful.’

Seonghwa chuckled. ‘Excellent answer. I’ll make sure to note that in your pirate performance review. Excellent care of ropes. Mild panic under stress. Needs work on dramatic fainting ’

‘I haven't fainted…’ Yeosang protested softly

‘Technically, you passed out the other day like a champ. I’d say that counts. Very realistic performance.’ Seonghwa moved next to him to nudge him teasingly.

‘Thanks. I guess.’

He received a grin as Seonghwa turned to glance over the edge of the deck. ‘You know, you’ve got to tell me… what is it? I mean… It's really heavy-looking, that coat. And you hide it under your other coat. You’re sweating like a kettle trying to keep it hidden and safe. I'm not stupid, can tell it’s not just clothes.’

‘I… uh…. It's nothing really, just… something important?’

Seonghwa tilted his head, a calculating look on his face. ‘Right. Something important. Could be a map to buried treasure. Could be a cursed artifact. Could be… the last slice of pirate cake in the world.’

Yeosang tried to hide his laugh behind his hand. He could tell the elder was trying to put him at ease, to make him less nervous. ‘It’s…none of those.’

Seonghwa’s smile never left his face. Gentle and understanding. ‘Hmmm… alright,’ he leaned to rest his elbows on his knees. With crossed arms and a squinted eye, he continued. ‘I’ll let it slide… for now. But if I catch you sneaking around with it again, you owe me a story. Full tale. Preferably with piratey accents.

‘I'm sorry, I don't know if I can… tell anyone yet. Not yet. But…. maybe one day.’

‘Hey. It's ok. You don’t have to tell me yet. I trust you not to be too stupid. No one's touching it. Not on my watch!’

Yeosang felt a bubble of warmth spread through him at those words, breaking through his near constant anxiety.

They fell into a comfortable silence, working together to ensure the ropes and sails were in order. Occasionally, Seonghwa would toss a comment. One about a gull stealing a snack. One about the weird way the wind was tugging at a loose rope. But mostly, it was just quiet companionship.

Yeosang found himself relaxing in ways he hadn’t been able to since the battle. His pelt felt less like a weight and more like a quiet secret he didn’t have to shoulder alone. He glanced at Seonghwa and realised that this, right here, was what made the ship safe and at home. Not just the creaking wood or the endless sea, but the people who cared enough to watch his back.

‘Hey, Seonghwa?’ Yeosang said quietly, breaking the silence.

‘Hm?’

‘You really think Hongjoong understands why I hide things?’

Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully, twirling a loose strand of rope between his fingers. 'Sort of. In his own way. He’s rough around the edges, explosive sometimes, but he’s protective. Especially of you. You’re… tricky to look after, Sangie. But I think that’s exactly why he cares so much.'

Yeosang nodded slowly, feeling the weight in his chest ease just a little. 'Yeah… I guess.'

'Just try to keep out of trouble, alright?' Seonghwa said, patting his shoulder. 'And remember I’ve got your back. Weird jokes, and all.'

Yeosang let out a soft laugh, feeling more at ease than he had in days. 'Thanks. I really appreciate that.'

'Anytime,' Seonghwa said with a wink, tugging a line one last time. 'Now, let’s finish up here before the captain notices you’ve been smiling too long and thinks the ship’s about to sink.' Yeosang smirked, looking down at his feet.

Suddenly, there were the sounds of footsteps as Hongjoong's angry face emerged from behind the cabin door. Eyes stony and serious. Yeosang and Seonghwa both looked at each other, looking guilty and ready for a scolding.

He approached Yeosang, who gulped audibly, stomping across the wooden flooring. Yeosang had no clue how long he'd been standing there, listening.

'What have you dragged onto my deck?' Hongjoong’s voice cut through the calm, more accusation than question. The words hung heavy, like the deck itself had gone still.

Yeosang’s heart skipped. 'I… nothing?' His words stumbled out before he could think, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. The anxiety is returning in leaps and bounds.

'Nothing?' Hongjoong’s eyebrows shot up, and he took a step closer, fists clenched. 'You think I don’t notice when you disappear for hours, sneaking around with something hidden under your coat since the last fight?'

Yeosang’s fingers tightened slightly on the coat. ‘Ropes! …Very important ropes,’ he blurted, wincing at how stupid it sounded.

Hongjoong’s lips pressed into a thin line. 'Ropes, huh?' His gaze narrowed, sharp and calculating, but there was a protective edge beneath the sternness. 'I swear, Sangie, you make it impossible to keep track of you. You vanish, you hide things, and you think no one notices?'

Yeosang’s cheeks warmed further. 'I… um… stealth skills?' His voice was barely above a whisper, half-joking, half-pleading.

Hongjoong blinked, a pause that was almost comical given the tension, before letting out a frustrated sigh. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. 'Yeosang. You’re infuriating. And yet. Somehow, I can’t stop worrying about you.'

Yeosang ducked his gaze, fiddling nervously with a loose rope. He felt immensely guilty at how much his captain cared. 'I… I’m okay, really. Just… careful, that’s all.'

Hongjoong leaned a little closer, lowering his voice but keeping the intensity. 'Careful isn’t enough when you hide things from me. NO ONE on this ship keeps secrets from me. I don’t allow it. That’s my one rule, Yeosang, and you know it.'

Yeosang swallowed, fidgeting with his coat buttons. Not a denial. Hongjoong’s stern expression softened just a touch. 'Yes. And don’t try to joke your way out of it. Though I guess that’s why you’re such a valuable member of the crew. You’re clever. Too clever sometimes. But your head is in the clouds, oblivious to the world around you. Always so distant.’

Yeosang fidgeted, tugging the coat slightly. It was almost like he was talking to himself at that point. 'I… I didn’t mean to… I just… It’s important.'

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, but there was a faint exhale, almost resigned. 'I get it. But that doesn’t mean you get to make all the decisions alone. You could get hurt. or worse. And then where would that leave the crew?'

Yeosang felt a feeling of dread even at the thought. The warnings, the impending doom. He would do anything to protect his crew. Yeosang’s voice was barely a whisper. 'I don’t want anyone to get hurt.'

'I know.' Hongjoong’s eyes softened for just a fraction of a second, a fleeting vulnerability before the sharpness returned. 'But you can’t protect everything by yourself, Sangie. Not everything. Especially not when I’m right here.'

Yeosang felt a mix of embarrassment and relief, heat rising in his chest. He opened his mouth, trying to respond, but all that came out was a quiet, 'I… I’ll… try…'

Hongjoong shook his head again, this time with a faint exasperated chuckle. 'Trying isn’t enough. I need you to trust us. All of us. And yes, that includes me, even if I’m… difficult.'

Yeosang’s small smile flickered. 'I… I do trust you. All of you.'

'Good.' Hongjoong’s tone softened, though the underlying edge remained. 'Now. What exactly is that thing you’re hiding?'

Yeosang froze, cheeks flaming. 'I… I can’t… not yet.'

Hongjoong huffed, clearly frustrated but also trying to hold back the wave of concern threatening to break into anger. 'Figures. Goddamit Yeosang. Alright, but just know, Sangie,' He leaned in a little closer, voice quieter but firm. 'I will find out eventually. And when I do, I want to make sure you’re not putting the crew in danger. You hear me?'

Yeosang nodded quickly, heart hammering, fumbling slightly with the coat. 'I hear you.'

Hongjoong straightened, sighing, though the sharp tension didn’t fully leave his shoulders. 'Fine. But don’t think I won’t be watching. And don’t disappear without telling someone. That’s an order, understood?'

Yeosang swallowed and managed a small, almost shy, 'Yes, Captain.'

Hongjoong’s eyes lingered for a moment longer, a hint of softness that only Yeosang could sense, before he turned abruptly and strode back toward the stairs, muttering something about 'incredibly stubborn crew members.'

Yeosang exhaled, leaning back against the coil of rope. The adrenaline slowly faded, leaving behind a mix of relief and residual panic.

'Stealth skills, huh?' He muttered under his breath, letting a small laugh escape despite the tension.

From behind, a familiar voice piped up, playful and teasing: 'Yep. Top-tier. Don’t worry, Sangie… I’ve got your back.'

Yeosang’s shoulders relaxed, and he let a genuine smile spread across his face. He knew, even if Hongjoong was stern and easily angered, the crew was there for him.

Chapter Text

The seas the following day held a suspicious calmness, soothing and gentle in its movements. The morning light glinted off the repaired sails. The Mirage once again was the epitome of graceful beauty. On deck, the crew woke with the sun and moved with a practised ease. Seonghwa, who was waving his logbook around, and the captain were already having a heated discussion, San was darting up the rigging, and Jongho was hefting heavy crates with a grunt. Wooyoung was chasing after a loose coil of rope, while Yunho and Mingi debated superstition over their knotwork. As usual, they found normalcy in the chaos.

 

Yeosang, however, still felt displaced. His ribs continued to throb, despite the wound having mostly closed up, when he moved too quickly or suddenly, and while he could move around more normally now, every step was careful and measured.

 

He loved his crow’s nest, his role as lookout. The wind in his hair and the sea spray on his face. He loved the way everything seemed smaller from above, ordered and predictable.

 

Now Yeosang found himself slowly sauntering along the starboard side, awkward and unsure. He was no longer sure of his place or role within the crew until the time he would be recovered enough to climb. He paused at the railing, allowing the salty breeze to brush his face. The sea stretched endlessly in front of him, sparkling and calm, yet he still felt an undercurrent of unease within it that prickled in the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end. He knew a storm was approaching. Something was coming. He just knew it.

 

“Oi! San! Report!”

 

Yeosang startled, spinning around at the Captain's voice, who was looking exasperatedly up at the crow’s nest. San was perched high on the mast, legs wrapped around the lookout’s rope with the ease of someone who clearly thought themselves a pirate prodigy.

 

“Nothing to see yet!” San shouted back, his enthusiastic voice carrying across the deck. “But I’m always watching, don’t you worry! Any suspicious seagulls, floating crates, sea monsters… I’ll catch them all!”

 

Yeosang exhaled quietly as he lost the fight to hide a smile. San’s exaggerated enthusiasm was infectious as usual. It certainly helped slightly to calm the gnawing feeling in his chest.

 

“San! Keep your eyes on the horizon, not the gulls!” The captain shouted back from the aft, sounding reprimanding but allowing his amusement to slightly slip through. “Please try not to fall off the mast before breakfast!”

 

San saluted with dramatic flair and an overly serious face before settling back into his post, his eyes squinting towards the distant horizon. Yeosang could feel a slight pang of jealousy of his position, but that was overtaken by his admiration for San’s dedication. Once he had his heart set on something, nothing would stop him. And you could bet that despite his jokes and blasé attitude, he’d put his whole self into doing it the best he could. It was truly an admirable quality, and Yeosang often wished he were as dedicated as the other.

 

“Good morning, Sangie!” Yeosang turned to find Seonghwa leaning casually against the hatch, staring at him. For how long, he had no idea. “Still trying to figure out how to stay busy and not die of boredom?”

 

“I’m fine”, Yeosang muttered. The other approached him, his treasured notebook, quills and a bundle of charts in his arms. He gave Yeosang an expectant look, and Yeosang hefted them into his arms, confused and unsure. “Um… Why are you giving me the logbook?”

 

“Hongjoong thinks it’s a good idea to have you on the log duty for the day. It gives you something to do for the time being. Also keeps you close and out of trouble. His words, not mine.” Seonghwa said with a grin.

 

“Close and out of trouble?” Yeosang repeated, blinking confusedly.

 

“Captain likes to make sure his Ship is running. Which includes keeping track of you, apparently. Besides, my wrist aches, so I’d prefer to do some other tasks for today”, Seonghwa started, holding his wrist out with an exaggerated wince. Yeosang noted that this was a blatant lie as he'd seen him using his hands and wrists animatedly during his conversation with Hongjoong… but he’d choose to ignore it. Seonghwa continued, “And the Captain needs his log up to date no matter what. You know this. If it’s not written it didn’t happen” he imitates the captain’s voice. “So really it’s perfect!”

 

“.....Right. And he trusts me?” Yeosang looks at his crewmate skeptically.

 

“Apparently. Lucky you! Good luck!” And Seonghwa jogs off to do whatever else it is he’s been assigned to do, not without a subtle nod towards the captor. Yeosang sighed and made his way over to the helm, where Hongjoong stood. He let his fingers run over the crisp pages of the book as he set it down next to the charts on the nearby table, sitting down.

 

Yeosang looked at Hongjoong sheepishly. “Captain… there will be a storm today. A big one. We’re sailing right into it. If we change course, we could avoid it.”

 

Hongjoong’s gaze didn’t waver. “We stay on course. The harbour waits, and so does our ally.”

 

Yeosang’s heart sank. “But Captain! Something is coming. It’s dangerous-”

 

Hongjoong stepped closer, voice calm but firm. “Yeosang. This meeting matters. We will weather the storm, as we always do. Understood?”

 

Yeosang swallowed, nodding quickly. “Understood. I… I’m sorry.”

 

Hongjoong gave a small, approving nod, then turned to the stern, eyes scanning the horizon. “Good. Now, get to work. Keep your eyes on the crew and the log.”

 

Yeosang forced a tight smile and turned back to his papers.

 

The Captain is always right. We’ll be okay. It’s probably nothing.

 

—---------------------------------------------------

Despite his unease, every line, number and word filled him with a sense of purpose. He began recording positions, wind directions, currents and orders as he had watched Seonghwa expertly do in the past.

 

Wind steady from the east. Sails holding. Crew in fair condition.

 

Hongjoong’s voice carried from the quarterdeck, barking at someone to ‘stop tripping over the damn coil.’ Yeosang allowed himself a small smile before writing that down too and noting the hour next to his writing.

 

Yeosang could see Hongjoong staring at him, as if trying to read his movements and language, to uncover whatever he dared hide from him. But whenever he looked the captain's way, the gaze would be averted. It would be unsettling normally, but he knew that it wasn’t malicious or accusing, just Hongjoong's way of making sure he’s safe.

 

He wrapped his arms around his coat and the bundle underneath even tighter. Safety. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Every shadow on the deck, every glance from his crew members, reminded him why he kept his secret. He had seen the hunters take others like him before, and he would not let his crew pay the price.

 

Slight change in tide. Course adjusted half a point north.

 

The role was comforting in a way. It left little room for him to linger on his own thoughts. The discipline and order of it, as he communicated with the Captain and the crew in a way he wasn’t used to. Every word was his form of control over the chaos on deck, the restlessness in his mind. But it didn’t stop him from occasionally glancing out at the horizon, where the waves bled into the sky.

 

The air feels heavier today. The gulls are circling further from shore.

 

He pretended this was a simple observation, but the ink hummed with a sense of quiet fear. Though the others remained oblivious, he could sense the underlying restlessness of the sea, hidden under the calm. The tension that gathered beneath its surface held a pulse he could not ignore.

 

He wrote again. This time slower, his fingers tighter around the quill.

 

Something coming

 

The words bled slightly, smudged by the heel of his hand.

 

Hongjoong’s voice bled through his thoughts, now closer, leaning over his shoulder. “You’d better not be doodling on my official record, Yeosang.”

 

Yeosang startled, quickly flipping the page. “No, captain, just finishing the last entry!”

 

“Good,” Hongjoong leaned over his shoulder to glance over his work, squinting at the tidy writing before grunting in approval. “ Clean writing, good job. Don’t get sloppy.”

 

He turned away just as a sudden shout from above startled them both and made them glance up. San had his chest puffed out, waving his fist triumphantly. “Hey, Captain! A suspicious piece of driftwood on the starboard side! Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes peeled!”

 

Hongjoong practically scowled in annoyance. Yunho replied from the other end of the ship, “San! You’re gonna give yourself a hernia one of these days! And I ain’t dealing with that!”

 

Yeosang chuckled, returning to his log before turning to Hongjoong timidly, who was watching bemusedly. “Um… do I have to log that too, Captain?”

 

Hongjoong sighed. “Unfortunately so.”
—-----------------------------------------------------

The sun climbed higher as The Mirage sailed on. The gentle sway of the ship had started to become slightly restless as the day went on. Yeosang continued his log, his eyes straying to the horizon often. Thoughts of danger were flooding his mind. And it seemed the sea had started to mirror this. He considered telling someone about his dream, about the danger. He really should. His hand was hesitating over the paper, leaving faint ink smudges. They always believe him, but would they believe him about something like this? Would they want proof? Especially with their newfound suspicions of him. He couldn’t tell them the truth, and they knew he was hiding something.

 

A soft, hesitant voice broke through his concentration.

 

“Yeosang?”

 

He looked up to see Mingi standing near the rail, trying to look casual, but his hands were gripping it tightly. He was staring at the sky, the quickly forming clouds in the distance. Yeosang could feel the hastening winds. And the increasing agitation of the waves had already warned the Captain of an oncoming storm. He was acting like nothing was wrong, but Yeosang could see the tension in Mingi’s shoulders, one that hadn’t been there before.

 

“Hey”, Yeosang replied softly, pushing aside the book. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Is there going to be a storm?” He asked it nonchalantly, like he didn’t care about the answer. But Yeosang knew him, and it was obvious he was bothered.

 

“Yes. I can feel one coming. We’ll be ok though.”

 

Mingi’s hand tightened further around the railing, wind ruffling his hair as he tilted his head in performative indifference. “Nothing to worry about. Storms are fun!” His voice tried to come out with a cheer, but there was a slight tremor within it.

 

Yeosang tilted his head, regarding his crewmate with squinted eyes. “Fun?” He echoed softly as he walked to join him at the railing.

 

“Yeah. Totally. Just… breezy!” Mingi added with a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Better than doing nothing all day.”

 

Yeosang felt a pang of guilt in his chest. They all knew Mingi and understood his need to act brave, to be manly and fearless and perpetually unbothered. But they knew he was more sensitive than most inside. He had fears, like anyone else. And one of those just so happened to be storms. Yeosang didn’t call him out on his faked bravado. Instead just shared his own fears that he kept hidden.

 

“I feel something else too.” He started, voice quiet and vulnerable. “Something’s coming and it scares me, but… I can’t explain it.”

 

Mingi let out a loud laugh in response. “Heh, yeah. Mysterious sea stuff, probably. As per. But this storm… totally fine!” His words were obviously meant to convince Yeosang, but also himself. But his body language, his white knuckles, and his furrowed brow betrayed him.

 

Yeosang's chest tightened further. The bundle beneath his coat felt heavier than ever, a constant reminder of his own secrets and fears. He wanted to tell someone, to tell Mingi. To reassure him that he wasn’t the only one who was scared. But he couldn’t risk the safety of the crew. And it left him feeling useless and like a catalyst in this situation. It was partially his fault. He knew that the seas became more restless the more they wanted him to listen, to act. The more he was scared or angry, or sad. And it made him feel all the more guilty.

 

“You’re trying to be brave,” Yeosang said carefully, placing a hand on Mingi’s arm. “You don’t have to hide it from me. I understand. I’m… scared too.”

 

Mingi glanced at him, the act faltering for just a moment. Then he straightened, working the wrinkles out of his shirt and puffing his chest out, laughing as if to laugh away his unease. But his eyes continued to stray towards the clouds.

 

Mingi gave a short, forced chuckle. “Anyway, we’ve got he best ship and the best crew. Nothing can touch us, right?” It was phrased like a statement, but came out more like a question he wanted an answer to, for reassurance that it’d be ok.

 

“Right. Nothing we can’t handle.”

 

The wind picked up on cue, tugging the sails and flapping the ropes. Mingi gritted his teeth and laughed again louder. “Just a breeze!”

 

’It’s my fault’ Yeosang thought. ‘ I shouldn’t be keeping this from them '

 

Mingi glanced at him sideways, and Yeosang caught the hesitation in his eyes. Normally, he would’ve gone to Yunho, always a steady and reassuring presence. But Yunho was busy with the rigging, too preoccupied to notice the tremor in the younger’s hands. And perhaps he’d thought Yeosang would understand, even without the words.

 

He felt the weight of that trust settle on his shoulders, heavier than the bundle he carried. And the guilt twisted now. His crew was more important than this. All of this.

 

If anything goes wrong, it’s on me.

 

—--------------------------------------

Yeosang’s hand hovered over his quill, but his eyes were unfocused on the page in front of him. The wind had picked up to a howl, tugging violently at the sails. Rain spat across the deck, soaking his papers, smudging the ink until the words ran like streams. The sea was no longer calm. Waves crashed and rolled with a restless, angry rhythm.

 

" Storm approaching!" San called down from the crow's nest.

 

"A bit late, San!" Was Mingi's reply. He tried to laugh it off again, voice uneven, but his hands were shaking now as they gripped the railing. He’d always been iffy about storms, but it was as though he could also sense that this was different. A warning.

 

This is my fault. I’ve kept too much from them. And now by trying to keep them safe, I’ve put them all at risk.

 

The thoughts bled slowly into his mind, every crash of the waves echoing his guilt.

 

Pressing his hand against his coat, he made a decision. The crew mattered more than his secret. They deserved the truth. Enough to prepare themselves at least.

 

He scanned the deck. Wooyoung, nimble and unflappable even in the chaos, was near the stern. Yeosang nodded to himself, walking over resolutely. The younger looked up as he approached, brows raised. He could sense the unusual seriousness in Yeosang’s expression.

 

“Wooyoung.” He said quietly, voice almost drowned by the wind. “Something is coming. I’ve mentioned it before, but… something is really coming. This storm is a warning. It’s something dangerous. I know it. I’m not sure exactly what, but… It’s me. I’m… not like the rest of you. If this ship gets caught in this conflict, or anyone gets too close without knowing… it could hurt them. Mingi, he’s scared. Of the storm, but he can sense the meaning behind it too, and I… I can’t let anything happen.”

 

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, but he didn’t speak, allowing his best friend to continue. He grabbed Yeosang's shoulder, solid and steady. A show of silent support.

 

“I can’t hide this anymore. Especially not from you.” Yeosang continued, voice trembling slightly but gaining confidence as he spoke. This was his best friend. He’d love him no matter what. And he knew that. “I’m not human. I can’t tell you what but… I can’t deny it anymore. And I can't let the crew face what’s coming blind, not anymore. I trust you. I trust you all.”

 

Wooyoung’s gaze hardened, unwavering. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. Together.”

 

Yeosang felt a small flicker of relief, but the storm outside mirrored his inner turmoil. Lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the restless waves, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. The Mirage pitched sharply, water slapping against her hull.

 

He swallowed hard, clutching the hidden pelt harder. “I had to tell someone the real truth. Captain says to stay on course and keep going, but... just in case. They need to be ready. And I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.”

 

Wooyoung nodded, expression filled with grim determination and trust. “Then let’s make sure we are. No one else gets caught off guard.”

 

As the wind tore through the sails and the first real surge of rain hit the deck, Yeosang’s eyes flicked to the horizon, and his breath caught. His eyes widened. “No.”

 

A shadow, dark and moving fast, appeared against the backdrop of the stormy sky.

 

Yeosang grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist as he felt his legs give out. “No.”

 

The danger wasn’t just coming. It was already here. And he’d told them too late to properly prepare.

Chapter Text

The shadow moved fast, cutting through the churning waves like a predator on a hunt, until it’s shape became unmistakeable. Lightning forked across the horizon, illuminating the surrounding sea in stark, silver flashes. The ship was headed straight towards them, moving with unwavering purpose, riding the storm as if born of it.

“The hell is that??!” came Yunhos voice, shouting across the wind, hand shielding his eyes from the rain.

“Another ship!!” San’s voice rang out from up in the crow’s nest, higher and less confident than usual. “Coming right for us… she’s not changing course!”

At once, the deck burst into movement. Ropes whipped, boots thundered against the boards, and Hongjoong’s commands cracked through the air.

“Seonghwa, reef the topsails! Mingi, get below and secure the gunpowder! San, keep an eye on her flags! Jongho, Yunho, brace to starboard!”

Yeosang, however, couldn't move. The cold began to crawl through his veins. He knew that ship.

Not the name. Not the faces aboard. But the feeling that it brought with it, accompanied by the taste of iron and salt and memory that pressed against his lungs. It was them. And the storm had drawn them.

For a heartbeat, the sounds of The Mirage faded, and he only saw flashes. A woman’s laughter, as soft as sea foam. A pelt of silver-grey, drying on a sun-bleached deck. Hands that reached for him, rough and desperate. The crack of gunfire, accompanied by cries. The ocean swallowed everything whole.

Everything that belonged to the sea returned eventually.

“YEOSANG!”

Wooyoung’s hand on his shoulder dragged him back to the present. The ship loomed larger and larger by the second, its wide prow carving through the waves like a blade. A black banner whipped from its mast. There was no emblem. Just darkness.

“They’re not firing”, Jongho shouted. “They’re…”

“Boarding speed,” Hongjoong finished grimly, his eyes narrowed and calculating. “Why aren’t they firing?”

Yeosang swallowed, his voice coming out as a croak, throat dry. “Because they want us alive.”

Hongjoong turned slowly towards him. “You know something about this?!”

Yeosang hesitated momentarily, the feelings of fear the ship brought washing over him. “They’re… after me.”

The captain’s gaze flickered sharp and unreadable as he froze. “Explain.”

Yeosang went to give some sort of explanation, but there was no time.

“Hooks!” Yunho roared.

Iron claws suddenly shot out across the gap between the two ships, clanging loudly against The Mirage’s railing. The jolt shuddered through the hull as the ropes pulled and snapped taut, forcing the two ships to pull towards each other.

“Repel them!” Hongjoong barked, drawing his cutlass.

The crew sprang into formation quickly, training kicking in like instinct. Mingi and Yunho heaved at the hooks in an attempt to dislodge them, while Seonghwa dashed for the armoury. Wooyoung was already by Yeosang’s side, blades drawn and grinning far too confident for the chaos that now surrounded him.

“Looks like your storm brought company,” he muttered, voice tight, trying to remain stoic despite everything.

Yeosang’s fingers twitched towards the pelt that hid under his coat. “They shouldn’t have found me,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Please just… stay close.”

The enemy ship crashed against theirs with a deafening crack, planks groaning and screaming in protest. Figures began to vault over the rails, weather-beaten with an almost inhuman look in their eyes. Their faces were pale, as though they’d never seen the sun, marked by sea scars that looked too deep to have healed.

And around their necks, hung grey scraps of fur, braided into cords.

He could hardly breathe.

“Yeosang!” Wooyoung’s shout jolted him forwards as a cutlass flashed towards them. Yeosang ducked on instinct, the blade just grazing his sleeve. Wooyoung stepped in with speed like lightning, parrying and sending the attacker sprawling on the floor.

“Focus!!”

“I… sorry”, Yeosang said through his teeth, but his pulse in his veins was now a drumbeat of panic. Those scraps. They were pelts. Selkie pelts.

The storm howled harder.

Lightning split the sky. For an instant, the world was white, and he was able to see the insignia on one of the attacker’s coats. A jagged hook encircling a wave.

The same mark that stained his childhood.

He stumbled back, slipping on the rain-slick deck. Someone’s hand steadied him. He turned to see Mingi had appeared standing behind him, panting, hair plastered to his forehead.

“You alright??”

“They’re after me,” Yeosang blurted out, voice breaking through the storm. “They’ve hunted us before”

Mingi blinked, disbelieving and obviously confused, but something in Yeosang’s voice sounded resolute. Scared. And he chose to believe in him. “Then we make sure they don’t get to you.”

There was a look in Seonghwa's eyes as he briefly glanced in their direction that told them that he’d heard them. “They’re not here for treasure!” He announced it to the rest of the crew.

Hongjoong’s voice broke through once again. “Cut the lines! Push them off!”

Yeosang’s eyes remained on the enemy deck. He wanted to fight, but it was like his body refused to move out of sheer terror. Flight, fight. Freeze. A tall figure stood on the deck, unmoving despite the chaos. Most likely the captain. His gaze remained fixed on Yeosang, through the rain and the sea mist. When the lighting flashed again, he saw a glint of metal in the man’s hand. A chain. And from it dangled a scrap of silvery grey fur.

Yeosang’s heart stopped. He’d know that colour anywhere. Could distinguish that grey in a sea of monochrome.

His mother’s pelt.

He knew it surely as he knew his own heartbeat. The sea roared in his ears.

“Yeosang, are you ok?!” His best friend's voice came from his side, but it sounded tinny and distant in his own mind.

His breath was fast and shallow as he forced out the plea, “Please don't let them near me.”

“Bit dramatic", Came Wooyoung’s reply, trying to joke but displaying no humour in his tone of voice.

Hongjoong’s eyes met Yeosang’s for one sharp second, and in that look, Yeosang saw realisation. Guilt. Regret.

He’d warned the captain that the sea was turning against them, that danger would come on this course, but he had ignored it for duty. Now, he was beginning to understand what this choice would cost.

The pelt burned against Yeosang's skin, begging him to act, to transform, to escape. But he couldn't do that. Not yet. His crew was still in danger.

Wooyoung ducked another swing, countering with a strong kick, just as a shout from San echoed down the mast. “Captain! More ships on the horizon!”

Mingi gasped, hope seeping into his voice, “Reinforcements?”

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. “No. Not ours.”

Yeosang knew this well. The hunters never travelled with one ship alone.

The urge to dive and disappear beneath the waves, to draw the storm away from The Mirage, was near unbearable. But to leave them now would be to be caught and betray everything his parents had died for.

The sea screamed around him.

A voice sounded through his mind. His father was shouting his name as he dragged him towards the water. His mother’s hand pressed the soft weight of his fur into his arms as he wailed. ‘Run, Sang-ah. Hide. Live.’

He had run then. He would not run again.

A sudden crash sounded, closer this time, as two more attackers vaulted the rail. He shook free of his paralysed state, seizing a fallen staff close by on the deck. He swung hard, letting his instincts take over. The blow cracked hard against the attacker's ribs, sending him tumbling. His body moved with a rhythm honed by muscle memory.

Lightning illuminated the enemy captain on the other deck once again as he lifted the chain higher, taunting. He pointed straight at Yeosang then.

“Bring me the sealskin!” His voice bellowed across the two ships.

The world seemed to freeze, the word hanging in the air like a curse.

Hongjoong’s head snapped towards Yeosang, his expression that of sheer shock. The others faltered. It was only a second, but it was enough for the hunters to surge forward once again.

Yeosang's secret… Yeosang's curse… was no longer his alone.

The rain became harder, heavier, slicing against them in fine, cold needles.

He couldn’t hide now.

Then the shouting began anew.

“Cut them loose!” roared Hongjoong, his voice loud and authoritative. Though Yeosang wondered if he'd imagined the slight waver in his voice. “Get those bastards off my ship!”

Boots slammed against slick wood, curses swallowed by the storm. Yeosang stumbled backwards, trying to think and to breathe.

He could hear the hunters snarling orders to one another across the gap. Their accents were rough and coastal. And ever familiar in a way that made him feel queasy.

“Don’t damage the ship!” one barked. “Take the selkie alive!”

Another laughed, sounding cruel and hollow. “Think the sea will take us this time? Not with its skin in our hands!”

“Yeosang!”

His friend was still by his side, confident grin now becoming one more desperate and wild. “We can’t hold them forever!”

“I know.” Yeosang breathed out, eyes flicking towards the other captain, the scrap of fur dangling like a trophy, twisting in the strong wind.

For an instant, he could see his mother again. Her eyes, her smile, the way the sea mist and salt clung to her hair. Falling. Red blooming in the water like ink.

The memory cracked something within him, and he felt a sudden and newfound sense of resolve.

He turned to his friend. “Tell Hongjoong to get the others below deck. Now.” His voice held no room for argument.

“What? No-”

“Please. Trust me.”

There was a look in Yeosang's eyes then, a glassy, clear calm that made Wooyoung's stomach drop. He’d never seen that look on his friend's face before, so sure and so certain.

“Wooyoung hesitated for a second before nodding. “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid, ok? Be safe.”

Yeosang gave no reply.

As Wooyoung relayed the instruction to Hongjoong and tried to lead the others below, Yeosang took a step forward, rain streaming down his face like tears. But his expression was clear.

The captain stood tall at the edge of the deck as Yeosang approached the railing where the boats met; his eyes were full of triumph and amusement.

“Thought you could run for us forever, boy?” he shouted. “You wear her face. Same eyes. Same curse. Hand it over, and I might let your friends live.”

Yeosang’s hand trembled, barely able to breathe. “You took them from me. Took her from me.”

The captain simply laughed. “Your mother was a fool. Should’ve stayed under the waves where she belonged. But you, you’ll make it right, won’t you?”

Yeosang snapped.

The sea surged against the hull as if answering him. A wave crashed over the deck, drenching everyone in cold, foamy water. The Mirage tilted slightly under the force.

Hongjoong shouted something. Maybe orders, maybe his name. But the sound was blurred, muffled by the roar of the sea in his ears and the pounding in his chest.

He took a small step back, fingers fumbling for his coat buttons. The pelt, rain-slick and heavy, slid free into his hands, catching the dim light of the storm like polished silver.

Someone, probably Wooyoung, shouted, panicking, “Yeosang, what are you doing?!”

But Yeosang once again gave no answer. He couldn’t. His body moved on instinct, muscle memory older than him.

He lifted it to his chest, wrapping it around his shoulders, the fur cold and smooth against his skin. The moment it embraced him, the world seemed to inhale.

Rain slowed. The air thickened. And then everything changed.

His body began to blur at the edges, light bending around him. His knees buckled, and the salt burned against his skin as his bones seemed to melt and reform. It wasn’t exactly painful, but something more primal. Like he was being torn apart and reformed by the tides.

The pelt fused to him, spreading down his arms like liquid silver, pulling him downward.

The last sound to escape his human throat was a gasp, like the first breath after drowning.

And he was gone.

In his place, a sleek grey seal slid across the drenched deck, fur glinting in the lightning’s glow. His eyes darted widely, breath coming quick and shallow. His crew froze, weapons lowering, disbelief written across every face.

San’s mouth fell open. “Oh holy-”

“-Shit!” Mingi finished for him.

The others said nothing, including Hongjoong, whose sword hung loosely from his side. The reality hit him harder than the storm. The warnings, the intuition, the way the sea itself seemed to bend to Yeosang’s moods. Now it all made sense.

And then, before anyone could move, Yeosang launched himself over the rail. The splash was swallowed by the turbulent waves.

“NO!” screamed Wooyoung, vaulting after him only to be yanked back by Yunho. “He’s going to drown!”

“He’s not,” Hongjoong said, voice low but certain. Full of understanding. “He’s back home.”

But even as he said it, his heart twisted. The hunters weren’t retreating after he’d disappeared below the surface. They were preparing like they’d been waiting for this.

The enemy captain smirked. “The selkie still answers the call of its pelt.”

Something was thrown into the sea: a weighted net, lines gleaming with iron hooks.

The water below erupted with movement: Foam and struggle and flashes of silver.

“Yeosang!” Wooyoung shouted again, tearing free of Yunho’s steel grip. Without thinking, he dove into the churning, stormy waters, vanishing into the dark.

Shouts of panic followed, but it was too late.

Below the surface, the world was a blur of light and darkness. The water was churning, full of bubbles, and the shimmer of Yeosang’s form as he twisted away from the net. His body moved with fluid grace, powerful but desperate.

But the hunters had done this before.

The net sank quickly, iron weights pulling it down over him. Yeosang dodged, but a hook grazed his side, leaving a trail of blood in the water. He let out an inhuman sound, muffled and full of resigned sorrow.

Wooyoung kicked through the turbulence, fighting against the tides. He couldn't see clearly, but he saw the glint of the net, the shape of the seal thrashing within it. He drew the small blade from his belt and slashed at the nearest rope.

It took three deep cuts for it to give way, the net unravelling just enough for Yeosang to slip free from the ropes. He darted forwards, circling Wooyoung once, before shooting deeper into the darkness.

Wooyoung's lungs screamed for air, and he forced his way up to break the surface.

“He’s alive!” he gasped, clutching the rope that Yunho tossed to him, trembling and loose in the wind. “He’s under the ship! He’s fighting them!” he began to climb his way up the rope.

The sea boiled. A wave slammed into the enemy vessel, lifting it sideways. Men shouted, slipping across the wet deck. The Mirage tilted, but miraculously stayed relatively even.

Below the ship, Yeosang moved as fast as the storm itself, sleek and fast. Merciless. The sea answered him again, surging and twisting around his body, rising with his anger. The hunter’s ship lurched violently as if caught in an invisible grip.

And then the water stilled.

The enemy ship drifted back, its deck in complete disarray. Its captain clung to the railing, eyes wide and shocked. He was still clutching the chain but no longer smiling.

Hongjoong stood at the edge of the Mirage, rain dripping from his hair, eyes fixed on the dark waters. “Yeosang!” he shouted, half plea, half prayer.

There was nothing for several minutes.

Then, a silver shape broke the surface. Yeosang’s seal form, eyes black and shining as he looked at them. He lingered for a breath just watching them. Then, with a flick of his tail, he vanished beneath the waves once again/.

The enemy ship began to retreat, its sails torn, its men shouting in disarray.

The Mirage floated battered but relatively undamaged in their wake, the storm beginning to calm, returning the sea to its peaceful state. The rain softened to a drizzle.

And Hongjoong, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white, whispered to himself. His voice shook with a mix of awe and guilt.

“You warned me. I didn’t listen.”

Chapter Text

The sea had gone quiet.

The raging storm had passed, leaving behind only the gentle hiss of rain against the wet deck and the groan of the hull as it rocked against slowing, dying waves. The air was permeated by the lingering scent of blood, mixed with rusted iron and wet rope, along with the smoke that trailed from a storm lantern that had been shattered in the chaos, it’s light fading as it was put out by the rain.

For a long while, no one spoke.

And still, Yeosang didn’t appear.

Wooyoung paced along the wet boards next to the railings, fists clenched, shouting his friend’s name till his voice was raw. “Yeosang! Yeosang!”

Each call was answered by nothing but the quiet splash of water against the Mirage.

Mingi was leaning heavily against the rail, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. His normal brash nature was gone, his habit of making light of a dangerous situation not present. He was just silent, staring into the water with wide eyes. Yunho moved between the members of the crew, checking for injuries as Seonghwa issued terse instructions to the other members of the crew. Their gazes still occasionally drifted to the horizon.

San remained perched up in the crow’s nest, on even higher alert than usual, squinting into the grey waters. Every bird, every splash of foam, every shadow made his breath hitch. He remained tense, every part of his body hunched up as if ready to spring into action.

And Hongjoong took his usual position at the helm. Silent, hands gripping the wheel. For once, there was no commanding presence. No orders cracking across the ship. There was just a tight jaw, a furrowed brow and eyes that refused to leave the sea. He’d watched Yeosang disappear into the waves, and the knowledge that he still hadn’t returned gnawed at him.

Yunho’s voice was low but steady, cutting through the quiet. “He’s a selkie.”

The words landed like stones. San froze, Seonghwa stiffened, and even Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

“A selkie? Like the old stories?” Mingi asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yes.” Yunho nodded, wet hair plastered to his forehead. “Legends say they shed their human forms, becoming seals. Their human lives fade into the background. Memories, feelings, even names become secondary. Instinct takes over. They’re driven by the sea, and once they return to it, the pull is overwhelming. Most never come back. Not because they forget completely, but because their animal instincts dominate.”

Wooyoung stopped pacing, jaw tight. “Then… he could’ve left us? Just vanished?”

“He could’ve,” Yunho said, voice calm but edged with awe. “But he didn’t. He fought the pull of the sea, the instinct to leave, and he came back. He chose to save us. Not because it was easy, but because he still cared who we are. And he only targeted the hunters. He spared us, even at the expense of the captain still living. He could’ve ended him and solved everything, but he didn’t. Any more, and we would’ve been at risk.”

Seonghwa’s hand went to his mouth, eyes wide. “So… he fought the sea itself?”
Yunho nodded, a rare, faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yes. He fought both the sea and his own instincts. And he won. That… that’s what makes him extraordinary. That’s what makes this story different from the old myths.”

The crew fell silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. Jongho broke the silence. “Yet we still can’t see him. Not yet. He’s out there, but he’s choosing to stay away”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened. “Choosing? But he’d never just leave us. Not like this!”

“He probably has some instincts that we don’t understand.” Yunho continued. “The pelt is a part of him. The way the sea calls to him is stronger than any human need could be. He wants to go. Probably always has. But right now, we just have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.”

San’s voice rang out from above, incredulous. “But the hunters! They’re still out there!”

“They are.” Seonghwa started. His eyes were calculating as he started to fully grasp and understand the situation. “They know he’s with us, and they won’t stop. That’s why he left. He’s still protecting us. The captain was still alive and watched him leave. He’s making it look like he’s gone for good. He’s thinking ahead as always.”

Hongjoong let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “So we wait for him to come back. We trust that he will. And we’ll be ready when he does.”

—----------------------------

Under the waves, Yeosang drifted.

The world below was silent and endless. Blue, green and silver all at once. The pain in his side from where the hook had grazed him was dull now, fading into the background of the sea’s heartbeat.

He had forgotten what peace had felt like.

The current brushed against his skin like a warm embrace. Every movement was easy, instinctive, his body designed for this world. He didn’t need to think. Didn’t need to feel much really.

Yet when he closed his eyes, he saw their faces.

Wooyoung’s frantic shouting, Hongjoong’s guilt, Mingi’s wide, terrified eyes, Yunho’s steady hands, Seonghwa’s tired strength, San’s forced expression of nonchalance, Jongho’s anger.

And beneath it all, his mother's voice.

‘Run, Sang-ah. Hide. Live.’

He had run once. And that had, for a time, been enough. But now…

And the sea called to him. It whispered in a thousand voices, in a language older than thought.

Stay. Breathe the deep. Forget the pain of the shore.

He let it pull him deeper.

He knew he’d have to surface for air eventually, but for now he let his thoughts scatter like bubbles, rising away. It would be so easy to let go. To leave and never come back.

But then a sound pierced the calm. It was muffled and distant, but sharp enough to split the silence.

“Yeosang!”

His heart lurched painfully, a feeling far too human for this form. The sound came again, faint but real and echoing through the waves.

And something in him broke loose.

The seal turned sharply, slicing toward the surface with a strength that surprised even him. His instincts screamed against it. Told him to stay below, to forget and to surrender. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave them.

He wouldn’t leave them.
—------------------------------------
On deck, the wind began to pick up again. A restless stirring, the sea’s mood shifting.

“Captain!” San’s voice rang out from above. “There’s movement under the water!”
Hongjoong straightened, heart jumping. “Where?!”

“Off the starboard bow!”

The entire crew rushed to the railing, as ripples broke across the surface. They were faint at first, before becoming stronger, circling the ship. A sleek silver shape darted just beneath the surface.

The shape vanished, then reappeared on the opposite side, briefly leaping into the air before crashing back into the sea. Water splashed high, glinting with sunlight.

It was him.

But something wasn’t quite right. The water was churning violently around the ship, the crew stumbling as The Mirage tilted.

“What’s he doing??!” Mingi shouted.

Yunho squinted down, voice dropping to a whisper. “He’s directing the currents.”

“Why?” Seonghwa asked sharply.

“To move us,” answered Jongho, “He’s steering the ship.”

And sure enough, The Mirage began to slowly glide, the water shifting beneath her in unnatural patterns. Yeosang’s body flicked in and out of sight, swimming with deliberate, controlled movements, guiding them in the opposite direction the hunter’s ship had gone, against the wind.

Wooyoung leaned dangerously far over the rail. “Yeosang! You can stop now! It’s safe!”

The seal surfaced briefly, dark eye locking onto him. For a moment, it was like the world stilled. Man and creature. Friend and myth. Staring across the divide.

Then Yeosang dipped his head once more, as if in acknowledgement, before diving below again.

Hongjoong gripped the railing. “He’s leading us out of the shallows. He’s making sure they can’t follow.”

Mingi’s tone softened. “So he’s protecting us still. Even now.”

Wooyoung’s voice cracked then. “Then why won’t he come back?”

Because he couldn’t.

Yeosng felt the pull strongly, the way the sea tugged at him. The longer he stayed, the harder it became to remember the feeling of the deck under his feet, the warmth of sunlight on his human skin. The ocean was trying to claim him, still. It whispered, and it soothed.

Stay. Be free.

But he’d promised himself he would stop running.

And he wasn’t about to stop now.

—----------------------

The Mirage drifted into calmer waters, horizon widening into late morning light. For the first time since the last attack, the sky was streaked with gold.

“He’s gone again.” San said, scanning the water.

“No.” Yunho murmured. “He’s deciding.”

A moment later, a splash sounded near the stern. The seal surfaced again, closer this time. His dark eyes reflected the morning sun as he started to climb.

The water shimmered around him as he hauled himself onto the deck, the transformation already beginning. The crew watched as he pelt began to shift, falling away and leaving behind human skin.

And then Yeosang was there. Human, drenched, shaking and pale. But alive. And back.

Wooyoung, as expected, was the first to move, sprinting forwards and wrapping in a crushing hug, before Yeosang’s lungs had fully adapted to their human capabilities. “You stupid, stupid….” he choked out. ”Don’t you ever do that again!”

Yeosang could only manage a weak laugh.

Hongjoong stepped forward then, his eyes full of emotion. Relief, guilt and pride all jumbled together. “You came back.”

Yeosangs' gaze flickered between them. “I won’t run again. Not anymore.”

Yunho smiled faintly. “The stories were wrong.”

Yeosang turned towards him, brow furrowed.

“They say selkies never return when they go to the sea.” Yunho continued. “But you did.”

Yeosang was silent for a long moment, gaze shifting towards the horizon. The sea glimmered gold, waves curling. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, contemplative. A small smile on his face

“Maybe they’re not wrong. But we were the exceptions.”

Hongjoong's eyes flickered. “We? What do you mean?”

Yeosang’s hand instinctively brushed his wet pelt, draped over his shoulder, fingers tracing the silvery fur.

“My mother.” He said quietly. “She went back many times. To the sea. But she always came home again. For him…” His smile trembled a bit as he recalled distant memories, both happy and bittersweet. “Maybe I’m just finishing her story.”

The sun climbed higher, and for the first time since the storm, the air felt warm again.

—-----------------------

The only sounds that could be heard over the gentle breeze and waves were the dripping of water from the sails and the creaking of the hull.

Yeosang leaned against the railing, chest heaving and hair plastered to his face. His eyes were dark and unreadable. The weight of everything that’d happened pressed on him like the waves on the hull. The secret he’d carried for years, the truth he’d revealed too late, the sheer terror of nearly losing everything.

Wooyoung had backed away now, giving him space, though it was obvious his hands were itching to reach out and touch him again. Mingi was completely silent, jaw tight, glancing from Yeosang to the sea, as if measuring whether the danger had truly passed. Hongjoong remained near the helm, gripping the wheel as if to anchor himself.

Yeosang’s voice broke the quiet. Soft but firm. “I… I should’ve told you. All of you. From the beginning. I thought I could handle it, that running away and hiding was the solution. I thought I could keep you all safe if you never found out. But now I see that I… I made it worse.

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened. He’d known Yeosang was hiding something. Had trusted Yeosang to believe that he’d never hide anything that could actually harm the crew, or Yeosang himself. “You kept this from us.” His voice was low, laced with anger but also relief. His way of caring. “You could’ve…!”

“I know.” Yeosang interrupted, shaking his head. “I know. And I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted the crew like you all trusted me. I never wanted to put anyone in danger. I just… couldn’t bear the thought of you being hurt if anyone let anything slip. And I didn’t know how else to protect you all. Or… myself. I was scared. I admit it. I was terrified.” His hand gripped the railing tighter as he felt the weight of his emotions try to force tears out of his eyes. “I’ve seen it before. The things they do. The others they’ve hurt.”

Mingi spoke first, “But we didn’t know! And you could’ve died out there! Or been captured!”His voice cracked, “We could’ve all…!”

“And you still saved us.” Yunho interjected gently, laying a hand on Mingi's arm. “That’s what matters. And that’s why we need to understand what you did. It wasn’t just instinct. You made a choice. And you came back.”

Yeosang looked up, eyes locking with Yunho’s. “And that’s why I stayed. I could have left for good. And maybe in another life, I would’ve. But I can’t. Not if the hunters know where I am. Not while any of you could be in danger. They tracked me down. They can do it again. They’ll know eventually.”

Hongjoong exhaled sharply. “I understand now. The sea talks to you, answers you. And you answer it. I ignored what it told you. I should never have let duty blind me.” He let out a small, bitter laugh. “You were right, Yeosang. And the one time I didn’t listen…”

Yeosang’s gaze softened. He stepped onto the helm, lightly resting a hand on the captain’s shoulder. “Don’t carry the blame alone. We all make choices. And I doubted myself and what it told me to. But from now on, we listen. Always.”

San slid down from the crow’s nest onto the deck. He finally broke the tension with a smirk. “So. Can we still yell at you now? Or is the sea gonna be throwing us overboard?”

That got some laughter out of the crew who’d been otherwise quiet and almost solemn.

Yeosang stepped towards the rail again, hands brushing wet metal as he looked at the endless horizon. The sea still called him, whispering, tugging at his form, urging him to slip back into its comforting embrace. He hesitated, one shoulder brushing the pelt he kept folded on him. He wanted to dive in again, to submerge himself, to feel the waves brush over him.

But for once, he didn’t want to disappear. It was like he just knew that no matter what, he’d always come back. To them. No matter what.

He instead sat on the edge of the boat, legs through the railing as he let himself splash a bit in the surf and the sea spray, feeling the thrill and the speed of the deep. A small, playful sound, almost a laugh, escaped him as he dived in, dragging his pelt with him, and he began darting in and out of view.

The crew watched, faces full of awe as they gave him encouraging smiles. This was ok. They trusted him to come back. And he could be himself.

Wooyoung leaned closer to San, whispering, “He’s happy. Just for a moment.”

Yeosang’s dark eyes peeked above the waves, catching each of theirs before he slipped back beneath the surface, following the path of the boat.

And this time, the sea didn’t take him away.