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"Something’s out there, Capt'n."
The crew of the Devil's Trickster found him wandering the beaches on an uninhabited island, a pit stop for fresh water before they sailed into the port of Rishiri.
There were whispers of a ghost around these parts, an apparition haunting tavern rumours for months. Some said it was the embodiment of a marine lost and looking for revenge. Others had claimed that a mutiny upon a legendary ship led to its sinking and this was one of its survivors. The Silver Demon, they had named it, fought with the ferocity of someone who had seen hell and clawed its way back. Stay away from the island if you want to live.
The Silver Demon looked very much like a man in Captain Umino Iruka's opinion. His skin is red and battle-scarred, a dark eyepatch covered his left eye, and his long hair shaggy and straw-like. His face skimmed the horizon of the open sea constantly as if searching for something. Perhaps looking for the crew and ship that had left him there. From the way his clothes have been torn and shredded and the lack of shoes, he must have been on the island for some time. Who knew how long he had had to survive out here on his lonesome? Perhaps he was half-feral, having no one but himself for company.
Iruka lowered his spyglass, passing it over to his First Mate, his lips pursed. What should they do with the Silver Demon? He had never been one to shy away from a person in need. It was one of his redeeming qualities that had won him the loyalty of his crew, which wasn’t to say that his kind heart hadn’t gotten them into trouble either.
"Your orders, Capt'n?" First Mate Morino Ibiki, a tall and imposing man in leather and a black bandanna tied around his head, asked. His face was severe and impassive, seemingly aware that Iruka might be looking for trouble. But Ibiki was a loyal man through and through, a fierce protector, and the best that any Captain could ask for while sailing the high seas.
If they didn’t make landfall here, the next island with fresh water was several day's sail away. A storm was brewing upon the horizon and Iruka didn't like their chances of sailing through that. “Drop anchor and prepare the rowboats. We proceed as planned with our restock.” Iruka grinned, his dark nose scar pulling taut; oh, he did relish a challenge. “Let us see what this Silver Demon will do once he is faced with the Devil.”
In Iruka's mind, this was a man in need of help. Iruka would consider it a good deed if they could return the Silver Demon to civilization.
There were plenty of ghosts and beasties that roamed the high seas. They were all mere pawns in a game played by the deities above who blessed as easily as they cursed. Which way would they lean if the Silver Demon ended aboard the Trickster?
And wasn't that an exciting thought.
Ibiki studied Iruka's profile for a long moment. He had been by Iruka's side since the very beginning and treated Iruka like a little brother that was prone to finding trouble in every port.
“There will be grumblings.” The makeshift crew they had collected along the way had been attracted to their captain's charisma and were no stranger to the waifs and strays that Iruka picked up.
Iruka cocked his head at Ibiki. “I trust you will take care of it.”
Once they made landfall, the Silver Demon was nowhere to be seen. Iruka looked curiously along the beach, his fingers stroking the pommel of his cutlass. “Ibiki, I'll leave restocking in your care.”
Ibiki frowned. “At least take Kotetsu and Izumo with you.” He gestured at the two already working hard to unload the crates from the rowboat.
“I won't be gone long,” Iruka said, flapping a hand at Kotetsu and Izumo to continue when they had paused when they heard their name called. “I'm just taking a look.”
“Go looking for the demon and who knows what you might find,” Ibiki warned him, futile as the words may be in the face of Iruka’s stubbornness, and turned to bark orders at the crew to get a move on. The empty crates and barrels weren't going to fill themselves with water and forageables after all.
Iruka walked along the beautiful white sand, looking out for signs of disturbances in the low lying shrubbery. There were plenty of animals screeching from the canopies, loud and piercing over the sound of the waves. He paused, squatting down when animal tracks crossed paths with human footprints.
“Hardly the Devil,” Iruka murmured to himself, shielding his eyes against the sun and calculating the hours of sunlight left in the day. Ibiki would have conniptions if he didn't return to the Trickster by sundown. But then again, Ibiki was often prone to conniptions irrespective of Iruka's respect for punctuality. “Just a man after all. Let's see where this leads us, shall we, from one devil to another?”
White sands gave way to emerald green flora as Iruka made his way inland, slashing at the low vegetation. Rivulets of freshwater spidered throughout the jungle that Iruka quenched his thirst on. Fresh fruit ripe for the picking helped abate Iruka’s hunger.
But as the sun began to set, Iruka felt his frustrations begin to rise. The jungle was shifting into night mode, animals settling in for the evening. He had lost the trail of the Silver Demon a while ago, whether by accident or by design. Maybe he should have brought Izumo and Kotetsu with him.
It seemed rather unlikely that their paths would so happen to cross when the island was so large.
Iruka hadn't considered whether the Silver Demon would want to be found if he was having such difficulty finding him. Perhaps he was living upon this island and away from civilization by choice? Iruka could see the appeal; after all, he couldn't just put stock in rumours.
The jungle was dense with a pronounced chill in the air; Iruka didn't fancy his chances of picking his way back down through the shadows without breaking an ankle if he wasn’t careful.
Something tackled him to the floor in the next moment, taking Iruka by surprise. He grunted from the impact against the ground. Instincts immediately kicking in. The rush of blood thundered in his ears.
Was it an animal? He hadn't even heard anything except for the rustle of leaves in the wind.
He tried to buck his attacker off, sending hard elbows backwards in the hopes of landing a lucky hit.
The attacker's grip loosened with a grunt, giving Iruka enough space to jump onto his feet.
Iruka whirled around, bringing his arms up defensively and blocked the punches that came flying, forcing him to walk backwards into a clearing.
Through the gap in his forearms, there were glimpses of silver illuminated to a ghostly white to match pale, sharp cheekbones. The Silver Demon fought like a man possessed, dancing around the counterpunches Iruka made.
“Wait! Oof—” The Silver Demon would be fearsome if he weren't half-starved and feral from survival.
Iruka had to change tactics and fast, pressing his advantage of being stronger and solid.
“I'm not here to fight you!” Iruka said, wrestling them into the ground and pressing his advantage by pinning the Silver Demon's wrists above his head. Iruka sat heavily over the Silver Demon’s abdomen. “Are you done?”
The Silver Demon glared up at him, defiance in his singular eye and a low growl in his throat. One last ditch effort to throw Iruka off until the fight drained out of him.
“Are you done?” Iruka repeated, meeting his gaze calmly and unintimidated by the display. The Silver Demon looked away. There were leaves sticking to his hair.
“I am starting to think that you might not remember how to speak,” Iruka mused and then sighed. “It would make this so much easier if we could hold a conversation. Definitely easier if I knew what your name was.”
It could also be a matter of trust. Trust was a commodity that was hard to come by when it came piracy. It seemingly went hand in hand with backstabbing and mutiny if Iruka wasn't careful. This certainly wasn't the way Iruka had hoped to gain anyone's trust.
“You must still remember bits and pieces,” Iruka mused. “And someone has definitely taught you how to fight.”
The growl was back again and Iruka recognised it for what it was: a warning.
Treating the Silver Demon as if were a wild animal, Iruka gentled his voice and loosened his grip on those bony wrists, “Do you want to get off this island? I am the Captain of the ship you must have spotted earlier. If you want to, you can join my crew aboard. Ah…” Iruka rose onto his knees and then rolled off in one smooth motion, squatting easily by the Silver Demon's side.
In a flash, the Silver Demon sat up, wary; Iruka didn't blame him. He brought his arms around himself, shaking like a leaf.
“We set sail at sunrise towards Rishiri...” Iruka shrugged out of his coat and then gently, carefully, dropped it over those bony shoulders as a truce offering. “You must be cold…”
The Silver Demon looked up at him in surprise, pale fingers drawing the coat tightly closed to preserve the warmth. “W-Why?” The Silver Demon's voice was hoarse and raspy from disuse, deeper than Iruka expected.
Iruka tilted his head, looking at this skinny man who survived on an island for however long. “Everyone deserves help, no matter who they are,” Iruka said simply, reaching out to cup a cool cheek to remind them both that this was real.
The touch draws an involuntary gasp, silver eyelashes fluttering shut and then seemingly pressing into the warmth there.
Everything seemed to hang in that moment. Iruka held his breath, afraid to break the silence. The threads of red suspended in the boughs above taut and still.
“Kakashi,” the Silver Demon whispered at long last, meeting Iruka's eye. “My name is Kakashi.” The defiance there was replaced with something akin to hope, a peace offering that seemed far too precious to be given so willingly.
Now that Iruka could work with.
With a casual caress, Iruka dropped his hand and offered it to Kakashi with a smile. “It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Captain Umino Iruka of the Devil's Trickster. Welcome aboard.”
In the first few weeks, Kakashi stayed inside the captain's cabin much to Ibiki’s endless worry and frustration. Iruka had rolled his eyes at Ibiki’s implication that Kakashi would somehow murder him in his sleep in increasingly macabre and violent ways. Iruka had shrugged then, “If that's what Lady Destiny has in store for me, then so be it. And consider quarantine lest you or the rest of the crew catch something.”
Kakashi had been equally aghast at his new lodgings and lost spectacularly to Iruka’s stubbornness. Every day thereafter, someone would leave their meals outside the door from old man Teuchi, and they would eat in the comfort of Iruka's cabin.
At first, Kakashi's answers to Iruka's unending questions were monosyllabic, gradually building up into a dialogue. Iruka was amazed to find Kakashi was well-read and had relied upon his memory to stay sane. Kakashi, in turn, had been impressed by how young Iruka had been when he was made Captain of the Trickster.
There was something holding between them, casual touches that lingered in the days that had turned into weeks. A soft kiss that stole Iruka's breath away.
But it was a matter of time before they begrudgingly rejoined the crew on deck, and Kakashi joined the rest below deck in a hammock of his own.
The Port of Rishiri rose in the distance and with it came the end of their journey together. The Trickster's crew ran down the gangplank, intent on enjoying their shore leave for a few days and leaving their captain on deck. The Trickster's crew had been apprehensive of Kakashi at first, but had gradually learned to accept him as one of their own.
“You are welcome to stay on,” Iruka said, taking in the thin linen shirt that highlighted the muscles Kakashi had regained. Out of the crew's spare belongings, they had cobbled together enough of an outfit to replace the rags that Kakashi had once worn.
“You could travel with us.” Stay with me in the comfort of the bed I've come to think of as ours, Iruka doesn't say.
Kakashi offered a smile, stepping in close until they stood chest to chest. “I am in your debt, Iruka, but I must depart and find my own way.”
Iruka felt his breath catch in his throat when Kakashi pressed their foreheads together. “Until our paths cross again.”
And then Kakashi was gone, disappearing into the busy port below without looking back and taking with him a piece of Iruka’s heart.
The Trickster returned to the sea, sailing from Rishiri all the way down to Okushiri and Oshima, then swept down to Sado.
The crew learnt to keep their mouths shut about the Incident and the sudden existence of Iruka's beard, silenced often by a sharp glance from Ibiki.
“He's your Captain and he's trying something new,” Ibiki barked and then issued new orders.
An unexpected sea battle changed the Trickster forever, snapping Iruka out of his fugue long enough to tell his crew to abandon ship and save whatever they could. The navy vessel had suffered losses of their own, but the hull was intact and they beat a hasty retreat.
But the Trickster… she was not so lucky.
His time was up. Iruka knew what he needed to do.
Iruka sliced through the rope of the rowboat from the top, smiling sadly at his distraught crew as they appealed to him to jump and save himself. “A captain goes down with his ship.”
They watched in horror from the rowboat as the wooden deck of the Trickster splintered and cracked in half, the mast keening and listing. Even the luck of the devil had to run out some time.
“Iruka! Look out!!”
Iruka whirled about, watching in horror as the mast fell towards him and cold darkness consumed him.
Iruka came around with a splutter and a wince. Everything hurt. Everything was so crusty.
“Don't move, Capt’n. You're safe.”
It was Ibiki’s rough hand in his, and… Well, this wasn't what he expected the afterlife to be. But all in all it wasn't bad.
“You won't believe whose ship came to our rescue.”
“If it's that bastard Mizuki’s,” Iruka said with a vitriol that came from wounds scabbed but not forgiven, “I think I'd rather be dead.”
A chuckle came from the opposite direction. “Maa, Iruka. I don't know who this Mizuki is, but maybe don't discount the hard work my ship's surgeon has put into keeping you alive.”
Iruka's stomach plummeted and he forced his eyes open. Was this all a dream? “Kakashi?”
Ibiki gruffly excused himself and left them alone.
“I thought… I thought you didn't want…” Iruka looked down at his bandaged hands, trying not to recall thoughts of the past that had insidiously suggested he wasn't enough.
“I came to find you after, but you were long gone. So I chased after you.” Kakashi smiled wryly, reaching out to curl their hands together. “This is the Hound. Not quite as grand, but she does the trick.”
“You came after me,” Iruka said in awe, squeezing down.
“I did. I followed my hearts compass but I'm sorry I was too late to save the Trickster. Can you ever forgive me?”
Iruka shook his head. “There was never anything to forgive. You rescued me. My crew. I'm in your debt.”
“Then consider it one repaid for what you've done for me. Anything you need for you or your crew is yours, Captain.”
Iruka brushed away tears from his eyes. “I'm afraid I'm no longer one. My ship.. .”
“Then you can have the Hound, or a new one.” Kakashi leaned in close, cupping Iruka's cheek and whispered against Iruka's lips, “You'll always be my captain.”
