Chapter Text
The first thing Shō noticed was flowers.
Not around him, but a very, very strong smell. It made his already apparent headache pound harder against his skull. He let out a grunt, rolling on his side, pressing his eyes closed even tighter. His body resisted the motion, and it took several seconds for him to successfully move to his side.
He next noticed the almost mushy feeling that was currently his ground. Closer to his head the ground was much less loose than the dirt under the rest of his body. That dirt was more compact, and additionally more cold. In fact, every few seconds, a cold swept over his lower body, all the way above his knees. He paused. No, it wasn’t just cold. He searched for the word.
It was… wet?
Yes, that was it.
He shivered, and attempted to open his eyes. A bright, blinding light startled him and he quickly closed his eyes once again. He let out another groan, before attempting to open them once again. He succeeded this time, although it took several moments for him to have to stop blinking.
This time, with his eyes now open, the first thing he noticed was not flowers. It was the man squatting down right in front of Shō, staring at him with a wild grin.
…Although this man did smell a lot like flowers, to be honest.
Shō’s body did not resist scrambling away in surprise, ignoring how tired he’d felt earlier.
As Shō skidded into the dirt– no, sand, he realized where he was. It was a narrow beach, near a small cliffside. The water was clear and blue, with sunlight reflecting off of the slow, gentle waves. That must have been the occasional cold Shō had felt. He’d been partly submerged. Up above, a few seagulls flew through the air, and above that was a sky full of low, fluffy white clouds.
The man blinked at Shō’s reaction, and turned his gaze to where Shō now was a few feet away. His grin did not vanish, in fact, it widened at Shō’s surprise.
“Hey,” he greeted, watching Shō with wide, curious eyes. The man had shoulder-length, black, wavy hair that he had pulled back in a short, loose ponytail. On his left ear, the man had a tucked in red rose and two gold earrings. He wore a dark red coat with no visible undershirt. The coat was left a bit unbuttoned near the top, leaving some of the man’s chest visible. His pants were loose and black, tucked into tall brown boots with gold buckles going all the way up on the outsides. Strapped to his waist was a cutlass, with a sheath tipped gold, and a handle with a red cloth tied to it.
The whole outfit looked quite hot, and Shō was curious on how the man wasn’t drenched in sweat. Shō’s outfit on the other hand, which Shō now registered as simple, wide red shorts and a white tanktop, along with a pink bandana tied around his arm, was much lighter. He was already cold from being half underwater, but the sun was bright and he knew he’d be glad soon to not be wearing this other man’s attire.
Whatever the matter, the man didn’t look generally threatening, minus the sword. He held no other weapon in his hand, and that same stupid grin remained.
“Hi,” Shō squeaked, though it ended up more like a cough, as he spat out saltwater.
The man chuckled at this, and tilted his head. “How long have you been laying out here?”
“Uhm…” Shō paused. “You don’t know?”
The man looked even more amused. “Why would I know?”
“Well, how long have you been staring at me laying here?”
“For a little while, but I get the feeling that you’ve been a sopping, sandy corpse for longer than that.”
Shō made a face. “You’ve been staring at me for a little while? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
The man moved to sit down on the sand, propping his chin up with his fist. “I wanted to see if you’d notice me.”
“While I was… asleep?”
The man shrugged. “Hey, I was just checking. You could be an omniscient fallen angel for all I know.” His grin turned into more of a smirk.
Shō’s brow furrowed. Was the man calling him just really handsome? Was he flirting with him? Or just messing with him?
“I’m not an angel,” he clarified.
“You sure?” The man pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. “The wings don’t help your case.”
Wings? Shō blinked, and his head whipped to look at his shoulder blades.
Oh.
There were indeed a pair of wings there. They were white, with rounded feathers. They were decently small, and he guessed they were not strong enough to hold his weight. Had he always had these? He couldn’t recall.
“Oh,” he managed to say, turning back to the man. “I still don’t think I’m an angel.”
The man shrugged, seeming to finally accept this answer, and stood up. He walked over, and held out his hand. “I’m Jiro, it’s nice to meet you.”
Shō took his hand, and Jiro helped him up. “I’m Shō,” he replied.
“Where are you from, Shō?” Jiro asked, as he began to wander further into the shore, closer to the cliff.
Shō thought about that. Where was he from? This island? Another one? “I don’t know,” he said, after a moment of thought. “Maybe I fell from the sky?” he joked, though he knew if that was true it wouldn’t take much to convince him, with the wings on his back.
Jiro raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you did,” he agreed. He stared at Shō for a moment, before shrugging and continuing to walk. “Come on. I’ll buy you a meal. You look like you need one.” He signaled to Shō’s pretty pathetic state and ragged clothes.
Shō hesitated, considering his options. He could take this man up for his offer or he could wander around until he got lost. He didn’t fully trust Jiro yet, but he had really no idea what to do. So, he followed him to a set of stairs leading up the cliff. “How did you find me?” Shō asked Jiro. Jiro glanced back at him, his boots thudding rhythmically against the metal of the stairs as they scaled them.
“The villagers of this island mentioned a strange bird man washed up on this beach. I reasonably got curious,” Jiro responded, flashing Jiro a smirk.
Ah, so Jiro wasn’t a villager here. That made sense. He looked like he sailed, with the sword at his hip. Shō guessed he must use it for fending off pirates.
The two arrived at the top of the cliff, revealing a small town. The air was cool from the sea breeze, and salty wind swept through the grass. The town led downhill, leading to another beach, which made Shō realize how small this island was. At the bottom of the beach, a dock lay with a few fishing boats anchored. Over there, people bustled around with nets and barrels. The houses near the beach were on stilts, while the ones closer to the cliff remained on the ground. They were all in different shades of either blue or brown, built with old wood painted over. The roads were dirt, probably honestly just common walking paths. A town square was about halfway down, where people bustled around a marketplace, and children played.
The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky, and the market seemed to just be getting busy now. Jiro walks confidently through the crowd, Shō following close behind. Shō was quite aware of the looks he was getting, but decided to ignore them, sticking his head high. He’d probably dealt with odd looks all his life, why should he be ashamed of his wings now?
They arrived at a dusty, weathered wooden building, a closed navy painted door at the front, next to a timeworn sign that read “Bleu’s Restaurant and Bar”. Jiro swung the door open, sauntering in. As Shō followed behind, he could see his reflection in the glass for a moment. Messy pink hair, pulled back and peaking out behind his ears, cut not too short. Freckles on his cheeks and light brown eyes. How long had it been since he’d seen his reflection?
“A meal for each of us!” Jiro announced to the crowded room.
Shō felt the eyes of everyone turn to them, watching in silence, as he sat down next to Jiro at the bar.
The bartender, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard, gave Jiro and Shō one large lookover then shrugged and began making something. At the bartender’s shrug, the rest of the room seemed to take this as a sign the two were alright, and slowly began conversion again.
Shō watched Jiro, bobbing his leg up and down, before Jiro suddenly spun on his seat to face Shō. “So!” He said, and Shō realized he still had his cigarette from earlier in his mouth, still unlit. “You don’t know where you’re from, then what do you know?”
Shō frowned, feeling that same feeling of cluelessness he’d felt earlier. “Uh,” he hesitated, trying to think of something to say. He tried to dig into his mind, to recall anything. But it felt like an empty room he’d just moved into. There were clearly cracks and stains on the wall, signs it’d been lived in, but he didn’t know where they’d come from. He squeezed his eyes tight for a moment, trying to recall something– anything.
“See the clouds, Shō?”
A young Shō looked up, large eyes peering at the sky above. “Yeah!”
“The clouds have gotten lower, and the winds have turned cold. Do you remember what that means?”
Shō paused, looking over the clouds again as if they held the answer. “Uhh…” he mumbled, then exclaimed. “It’s going to rain soon!”
“Exactly! Very good, Shō.”
“I know there’s a storm coming!” Shō blurted out, as soon as it hit him. “If you’re a sailor, you should either leave as soon as possible or wait it out.”
Jiro raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for, but it certainly was helpful information. “You navigate? Are you a sailor?” He asked, examining Shō. He didn’t have anything with him that would hint at it, but Jiro supposed Shō could’ve lost most of his stuff before washing up on the beach.
Shō paused. “I’m.. not sure,” he rubbed the back of neck, giving an awkward grin. “I’m not sure about much, to be honest. I’m sorry. But I remember some stuff about navigation, so maybe I am?”
“Hmmm,” Jiro was smirking now, and leaned back in his seat. He draped his arm against the back of it, looking away for a moment. “A navigator who washed ashore on this island… with no where to go. What should I do with him?” He thought aloud, eyes flickering to Shō for a moment, amusement in his eyes. “Well, I know!” He said, faking a sudden realization. He turned to Shō again. “You should join my crew!”
Shō tilted his head. “Your crew? You don’t have a navigator on your ship yet?” The idea sounded pretty bizarre. Other people in the room seemed to find it odd too, and had begun to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.
Jiro leaned back once again, and didn’t seem concerned. “We’re lacking in members right now,” he admitted. “But trust me. We’re one of the best crews out there.”
Shō watched him, looking him over. He couldn’t say Jiro looked… trustworthy, but he seemed enthusiastic about the idea of Shō joining him. “So are you… merchants? Or on a mailship?” He questioned, as the barman handed both him and Jiro their meals.
Jiro chuckled, grabbing a piece of the meat in his with a fork. “Ha, no! I sail because I want to, and so does my crew.” He then added after a second, “And because I’m looking for family, you know?”
Shō did know. His eyes turned to his own meal, and he played with his food with his own fork, scooting it around his plate. He must have a family too, didn’t he? He wondered where they were. Had they been with him before he’d washed up on the beach? Or had he left them years ago? In both ways he could imagine them worried about him.
“See the clouds, Shō?”
Yes, yes. Someone was out there who cared about him, he knew it. Someone who had taught him how to sail and navigate. He’d just have to find them.
“I’m.. I’m looking for family too,” Shō decided upon saying, looking away from his food and back up at Jiro. “I think they’re out there, and I want to find them.”
Jiro’s smile turned more genuine for a moment. “So? Want to join my crew?” He asked, before his grin turned shark-like once more, eyes dancing with mischief. “It’s lots of fun, I promise. We see incredible places, meet new people, and kick some Marine butt.”
Shō’s thoughts slowed. Wait… kick Marine butt? “Ha… you sound like a pirate!” he laughed nervously. He now looked over Jiro again. He’d assumed the cutlass at his hip was for fending off pirates, but what if it was for being one?
“Well, of course I do, I am one! Did the ‘sail because we want to’ not get to you?” Jiro snickered, before proudly declaring, “I’m Kaneki Jiro, Captain of the Crimson Rose Pirates!”