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 Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 10:54 pm
WARNING: This story contains or hints at spoilers for both Yu Yu Hakusho and all Pirate films.
Title: Cursed
Fandom: Yu Yu Hakusho
Pairing: Yusuke/Keiko; Kuwa/Yukina; Koenma/Botan; Hinted Kurama/Shizuru and Hiei/Mukuro
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Action/Adventure/Mystery/Romance
Summary: A horrible curse set upon a ship at sea. One young man and a strange debt to Davy Jones. A resurrected captain and his vow of revenge. Here there be pirates. Ye be warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or any part of the Pirates franchise.
Notes: This story contains or hints at spoilers for both Yu Yu Hakusho and all Pirate films and will NOT contain any OC's.
Chapter Links
To read the same story in an alternate format (as found on fanfiction.net), click HERE.
This fic, at a first glance, does not appear to have any of the main characters in it. However, once the story gets going, I assure you they will be the most central to the plot. So hang tight, and just wait for your favorites to make an appearance. Unlike other Pirate-inspired fics, this one will not follow the movie plots exactly. I've morphed them together and taken a few creative liberties of my own. Enjoy!
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Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 10:55 pm
Cursed: Chapter One - Soul Talk
1723 - Tortuga
He ignored the spray of water from the sea wetting his face. The tangy, salty smell of the ocean along with the crashing of the tide against the rocks were lost upon his senses. He turned a blind eye even to the steady glow of the lights from the village and a deaf ear to the gleeful squeals and angry shouts that accompanied them. He seemed frozen to the spot, his eyes opened as if he were afraid to blink. A slight wind whipped his hair and ruffled the clothes, but even still he did not take a step. The only thing capable of capturing his attention was the sight of his father further down the shore.
In what seemed to be an almost lazy fashion, the clouds drifted away from the moon. He stared on in disbelief as the moon light filtered down onto the figure only a few feet away. Cursed as he was, his skin did not turn to bone and his clothes did not become rags; he stood there as if he had not a care in the world, free of any heavy burden.
“Father-” he began, lifting a hand as if to reach out and reassure himself this wasn’t all a dream.
“Did you do this to me?” the man hissed, his face melting from shock into anger. “Did you free me?”
“Y-Yes, I thought that was what you wanted-“
“What gave you such a twisted idea?” The man popped his knuckles, allowing his gaze to momentarily drift from his son to his now solid hand. “Do you have the slightest clue as to what price one must pay?”
“He named no such price,” he countered, taking an indignant step forward, his own hands curling into fists. He knew he would never fight his father, though his temper was certainly taking its toll.
“Davy Jones has no need to name a price. Haven’t you heard the stories? Don’t you think there was a price for raisin’ The Makai from the murky depths for ol’ Cap'n-“
“I told you he named no price!”
“There’s always a price, me boy, always a price.” He spat at the boy’s feet, lips raised in a snarl. “D’ya know what that price is?” He swaggered forward until he was close enough to breathe upon his face, eyes glaring into his in such a way that the younger man could not turn away. “The price, son, is yer soul.”
“No...” he breathed. “It... He can’t take my-“
“Oh, he won’t be goin’ after you, laddie. He’ll be comin’ after me.”
“... Where will you run?”
“Run? Boy, there ain’t no sense in runnin’!” He paused, taking a wide step back, a dangerous grin spread on his dirty face. “Go out to sea and the Kraken will hunt you down ‘till there’s nothing left.” Another step back and his hand hovered over the gun sheath at his hip. “Hide on precious land and his minions will track you ‘till there’s no where left he hasn’t touched.” His hand slowly drew his gun. A finger twitched and the gun let out a soft click which, in the strange silence that followed, seemed nearly deafening to the younger man. “The only escape,” he breathed, lifting the gun and aiming at his own head, taking one last step away, “is death. And only then, boy, will they be comin’ after you.”
“NO!” He leapt for his father as the sound of gunfire rang through the village and the cove. He soon found himself slowly sinking to his knees, his entire body shaking as he looked on in denial. Eventually he scrambled to bury his father in the sand, his shock slowly fading into panic. The clouds shifted, blocking the moon and its light once more.
Engulfed in sudden darkness, Koenma clung to his dead father and cried himself to sleep.
1726 - Port Royal - Three Years Later
Bleary-eyed and tousle-haired, Koenma stumbled out of bed and staggered to the wash basin planted in the corner. He shivered as his hands met the icy water and soon found himself quite awake once it had been splashed on his face. After using the towel in the corner to dry his face and hands, he rubbed the remaining sleepiness from his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms high above his head. As he inspected his tired face, his mind wandered back to the dream he’d had - the dream he’d been having - about the night his father died. It was a memory that, for all the sleepless nights it had caused him, would simply not leave him alone.
Koenma let out a frustrated sigh, turning away from the mirror to dress and make his bed. He was already running late, and the Masters would not be pleased if he failed to prepare breakfast on time for the third morning in a row. It was just as he’d tucked away the last corners of the bed spread and fluffed his thin pillow that the door swung wide open and banged against the wall. Koenma started, falling backward from his crouched position. From his spot on the floor, he stared up at the upside-down woman peering back down at him.
“Mornin’ Koenma!” The woman grinned, giving a slight wave with her right hand, the other clutching her broom.
“Good morning, Botan,” Koenma replied with a grin, pushing himself up and brushing off his clothes. “You running late, too?”
“What? Oh, no silly! I’ve already finished my cleaning. Lady Keiko needs me to beat out the rugs in her room is all.”
“I’m running that late?” Koenma winced, deciding it would be in his favor to hurry to the kitchens.
“Well, no, but you’d better hurry!” Botan called after him as he dashed out of the room. She shook her head, a grin on her face as she leaned against her broom. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but there was something about Koenma that made her feel quite giddy. With a slight sigh she exited his room, pulling the door shut with a light click behind her, and continued on her way to her next assignment.
Keiko was seated at the window when Botan arrived and hardly spared the girl a second glance. She was far too busily occupied in staring out the window at the town below, her mind a whirlwind of ideas and worries. It was only when Botan had gathered all the rugs and was halfway out the door that Keiko realized her favorite maid had arrived.
“Oh! Botan!” Keiko smiled at the maid, turning her attention away from the window and standing. “Good morning. My apologies for daydreaming. I just can’t help it; so much expected of me and so much I don’t want to do...” She took once last glance toward the window and, with a sigh, pulled the curtains shut.
“You can tell me what’s on your mind, Miss, if you’d like,” Botan replied with a soft smile. Keiko seated herself on the bed, her lips forming a slight frown as a finger traced the stitches on her bed.
“Oh, it’s just father expects me to get married and I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” she sighed, falling back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “What man would ever want to marry me, anyway?”
“There are plenty of fine gentlemen just waiting to make you their bride, Miss,” Botan replied, tilting her head to the side in a thoughtful manner. “I’m sure you will have no trouble finding the perfect man.”
“I want to get away, Botan,” Keiko murmured. “I want adventure... or something. My life here is so terribly boring.”
--------------
“You, there!” Koenma froze, his hand hovering over the spatula handle, turning his head to see who had called him.
“Yes sir?” He turned and gave a slight bow to the Governor, righting himself with a questioning look.
“I have given George kitchen duties this morning,” Governor Yukimura continued, “you are to escort our visitor arriving in the docks today.” Koenma nodded as the other man left, a slight look of relief on his face. He despised kitchen duties and would do most anything to get out of them for a day. Judging by how long it would take to get the carriage ready and the amount of time it would take to get to the docks and back, Koenma knew he had best get moving soon.
It was nearly midday by the time the horses were ready. With the sun high overhead, Koenma led the horses down the path to the town, through the city streets and to the docks. His eyes darted about the ships, boats and cargo, a sense of uneasiness flooding over him. This was the ocean; the very thing that had, in a twisted sort of way, claimed his father’s life. He pulled the horses to a stop, stepping down from the carriage and made his way toward the docks.
“Excuse me, sir.” The quiet voice shook Koenma from his thoughts. He looked around, finally spotting the shock of blue hair directly beside him.
“Are you Lady Yukina?”
“Yes, that would be I,” the young woman replied with a slight nod.
“Ah. In that case, I am here to escort you to the Governor’s household.” Yukina smiled, pleased by the news.
“That was kind of him to send someone to fetch me,” she said as they made their way up to the carriage.
“That’s the Gov’nor for you,” Koenma replied, rolling his eyes at the thought of the man. He wasn’t particularly nasty, just enough to grind anyone’s nerves after spending more than five minutes in the same room. “So tell me, Lady Yukina, if you don’t mind my asking, what brings you to Port Royal?”
“I am... in search of my brother,” she replied slowly, her eyes locked on the ground. “He... I’ve heard he has been here and I intend to search for him. Perhaps I can find someone - or something - capable of pointing me in the right direction.”
The trip back to the manor was a long and quiet one. Koenma was thankful he had to drive the carriage; it would have been rather awkward otherwise. It was dark by the time they arrived back home, though many windows of the house were brightly lit by candles as maids, servants and members of the household went about their last minute business. Koenma pulled the carriage to a stop before the front doors, jumping down to help Yukina out of her seat.
“Thank you,” Yukina said, lifting the edge of her skirt up and out of the dirt as she stepped toward the door.
“Have a good night,” Koenma replied with a tip of his hat. He shut the door of the carriage and jumped back into his own seat, lifting the reigns and commanding the horses onward toward the stable. Early risers that they were, at this late hour the stable boys would already be in bed, leaving Koenma to put up the horses himself.
Removing himself once more from his seat, he unhitched the horses, leading them into the stable, attempting to make as less noise as possible. It took several long minutes to safely secure one horse in their stall and Koenma was looking forward to a good night’s sleep. As he turned to the second horse, a slight rustle caught his attention. He turned his head, eyes narrowed, but was unable to find the source of the noise. He shrugged, assuming it had been his imagination or, even if it hadn’t, there wasn’t anything to be worried about.
He failed to spot the man emerging from the shadows, his features obscured by lack of light. By the time the man raised his fist and struck Koenma upside the head, it was too late; he fell to the ground, unconscious, as the horse let out a shrill whinny and galloped away. The man smirked and uncurled his fist with a sickening crack before turning and setting off toward the mansion.
The night was young and there was much still left to do.
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Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 10:56 pm
Cursed: Chapter Two - Last Bottle
The Shores of Tortuga
“That, Sheila, was my last bottle a’ ‘killer.”
“Your point?”
“My point bein’ that you don’t go about drinkin’ the last of my drink!”
“Its fair game and you know it.”
“But not my killer!”
“Our ship, our food, our rum.”
“Now that ain’t fair, Sheila.”
“I never said it was, did I?” Chuu seemed stumped by Shizuru’s last retort, a blank and almost thoughtful, at least as much as Chuu could be thoughtful, look crossing his face. The two were seated side by side on the short flight of stairs leading from the upper deck to the bow. Shizuru clutched a flask in the hand farthest away from Chuu, the latter attempted to steal it back to no avail. Others stood around them, lazing about the deck with nothing better to do but watch the small argument. The salty stench of the sea met their noses, the waves crashing against the rock and the gulls’ cries overhead offering a harsh background to the scene playing out before them.
Touya sighed as he rolled his eyes, leaning against the side of the ship. He was a pirate as far as anyone was concerned, though perhaps one of the more civilized of the crew. The word games Shizuru sent Chuu through nearly every evening, as well as each morning if she was in a particularly good mood, were quite childish and hardly worth his time listening to. Considering they were docked up in Tortuga, however, under orders to keep an eye on the ship, he didn’t have much of a choice. His shipmates and, most reluctantly, friends, were bound to hop overboard and join the ruckus of the pirate town if his sane head wasn’t showing above deck.
“Kuwabara said somethin’ about rum ‘fore he left,” Rinku stated. It was his version of attempting to comfort Chuu who, at this point, had given up all hopes of getting back his precious alcohol. Rinku was the youngest on board and was often treated as more of a cabin boy than anything, though he was just as good with a sword as any of them.
“But it was my killer,” Chuu moaned, staring on in horror as Shizuru took another swig.
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Shizuru replied, raising a brow. “I save you from some killer hangover.”
“Any sign of them, Jin?” Suzuka turned his eyes up to the crow’s nest, awaiting a reply.
“‘Fraid not,” came the reply. The Irish pirate looked down at his friends with a grin. “They only jus’ left, you know. They won’ be comin’ back any time soon, now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Suzuka grumbled, his lips twisting into a scowl. “The chances of them getting Kuwabara to leave on time are slim to none.”
“It’s Kurama we have to worry about,” Shishiwakamaru butted in, his usual smirk quite at home on what considered to be his handsome face. “Think of all the filth chasing him about believing they’re worthy admirers.”
“You would know all about them, wouldn’t you Shishi,” Touya shot back, wearing his own smirk. “You’d give anything to be off this boat and down in Tort’ yourself.” Shishi scowled but said no more as the rest of crew fell into bouts of laughter; everyone present knew it to be the truth, though most of them harbored similar feelings, the exceptions being Touya and Rinku. Touya found the city to be rather disgusting and filthy, albeit with good rum, where as Rinku was simply too young to care for such pleasures.
“Why are we even bothering to come here, anyway?” Suzuka asked, raising both eyebrows as he turned to Touya for the answer. Touya opened his mouth, but Chuu gracefully interrupted before he could answer.
“MORE RUM!” Touya shook his head in exasperation.
“Hiei said they were searching for someone. A cursed someone,” Touya said, his lips raised in a disgusted look. The others looked quite interested; who wouldn’t be if their makeshift captains were searching for the only thing standing in their way of freedom?
--------------
Port Royal - Governor’s Household
Through his searing headache, Koenma could only concentrate long enough to gather a single thought: why was it morning? He could not recall ever getting into bed the night before. In fact, he couldn’t remember much anything at all, other than putting the horses away, though now that he thought about it he wasn’t sure why he was doing that to begin with. A groan escaped his parted lips as he pushed himself to his hands and knees, squinting in the glaring morning light.
“Hello?” Koenma looked about the stable bets he could, though as far as he could tell he was very much alone. There was an empty stall where he knew a horse should have been and the animals remaining looked quite frantic. He staggered to his feet and soon found himself clinging to the wall as the wold began to spin out of control, tipping this way and that as if trying to knock him off his feet.
The journey to the house was long enough when one was not disoriented and seemed only that much harder when one was. It was difficult pausing every few feet to cling to a bush or other solid object until the world finished spinning and Koenma soon became quite frustrated with himself. Eventually he arrived at the front door of the large building.
Although the world had, at last, finished being a merry-go-round, he couldn’t help but feel that he must still be suffering from head injuries. Both doors were swung open in a wide arc and the inside hall appeared to have been attacked by its own personal hurricane. His gaze drifted to the floor where he caught sight of a pair of shoes. The shoes seemed to be attached to legs, which were connected to a body which led to the face of the butler.
“No,” he breathed, eyes wide as they stared at the man’s pale face. They, whoever they were, had killed him. Were they after the Governor? Was there anyone left alive?
Koenma stepped through the open doorway, creeping down the hall as quietly as he could. Whoever had killed the butler and attacked the manor might still be around. The front room and the parlor hardly looked any better than the hall and he could spot where valuables had been stolen.
“Pirates,” he whispered to himself, staring at the empty spot above the mantle where the golden family crest had once hung.
“Shame, isn’t it? Unfortunately, that isn’t all they took.”
Koenma turned and caught sight of Governor Yukimura. The former’s face was curious, though his eyes glinted in fear that something far worse had happened.
“They gave us no warning,” the Governor continued. He pretended either not to notice Koenma’s silence as he stared at the wall, or simply hadn’t cared. “You should see the town, it’s completely destroyed.” He turned to face Koenma, his eyes narrowed into an accusing glare as if this had all somehow been his fault. “Do you know who did such horrible things, boy?”
“P-Pirates?” Koenma managed.
“Pirates!” Yukimura continued, ignoring Koenma’s answer. “Pirates, that’s who. And do you know what else they took?” Koenma opened his mouth to reply, but the Governor gave no chance for him to speak. “People. They took people. To be specific, they took my daughter, her personal maid and our guest, Lady Yukina.”
Lady Yukina! The words jogged Koenma’s memory and the night before came flooding back. He had gone to the docks to fetch Lady Yukina who was visiting the Governor’s family while in town in search of her brother. He remembered bringing her back, putting the horses away and then . . . and then . . . Then what? His brows furrowed as he attempted to remember, though each try proved to be quite futile.
“Aside from you and myself, the only staff of this household to remain alive was the chef, though he left promptly this morning,” Yukimura said after a moment of silence. “I do not expect him to return. As such, there is only one person I can count on to bring my daughter back safely.”
“Who would that be, sir?”
“You.” Koenma blinked in surprise, his confusion all too evident on his face. Yukimura laughed. “Your father was one of the best pirates to sail the Caribbean. Did you think I was unaware of that when I agreed to hire you?” He sighed and shook his head. “Normally I would not put my daughter’s life in the hands of a pirate, but it seems that situation has come to pass regardless. And so I am trusting you to bring her back.”
“But I was never a pirate,” Koenma protested, shaking his head. He couldn’t go gallivanting off in a ship pretending to be something he wasn’t. “I can’t commit piracy!”
“I am ordering you to save my daughter,” Yukimura countered. “Need I remind you that I am the only reason you have yet to face the gallows?” Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Koenma averted his eyes to the ground. He could feel his cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. Yukimura was right; he owed him his life and there was no way he could refuse without facing his own death.
“I understand sir,” he muttered, lifting his eyes to look at Yukimura.
“Good,” came the reply. “I suggest you gather your supplies and start in Tortuga. Pirates were what took my daughter and what better place to begin than a pirate infested sorry excuse for a town?” Koenma nodded and Yukimura took his leave, setting off to the stables to fetch a horse to ride into the town; he wasn’t going to clean up this mess himself.
When he could no longer hear the thump of hooves against the beaten road, Koenma frowned and decided that he’d best get moving. He slowly made his way toward the kitchen, pausing now and again to inspect a damaged object. It was when he examined the large grandfather clock sitting in the long hall that something bright caught his eye. He drew closer and picked up the small thing, bringing it close to his face.
It was a piece of coral.
Koenma frowned, wondering what a piece of coral was doing in the house or, more importantly, how it had gotten there to begin with. He stared at the small, rough object resting in the palm of his hand and knew it had not been by mere chance it had arrived there.
“Davy Jones,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as his hand curled around the piece of coral. What would Davy Jones want with the Governor’s daughter? A pirate such as he had no use for her.
My daughter and her personal maid...
It wasn’t Keiko they were after; it was Botan. But even so, why would they want but a lowly house maid?
Only then will they be comin’ after you.
Davy Jones wanted bait.
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Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 10:57 pm
Cursed: Chapter Three - Propositions
The Next Morning - Tortuga
Tortuga was, by all means, a vile and filthy city. The streets were never clean, the walls were brown and dirty and there was a stench in the air that never seemed to fade. The air wasn’t the only thing that smelled; men and women alike flooded the streets, their breath a horrid mix of morning breath and stale alcohol. This, combined with their mounting body odor, was enough to make anyone want to retch. Koenma resisted such an urge as he plowed through the streets, pulling his hat further down on his head and avoiding all eye contact with the women calling for his attention as they perched on various barrels of rum.
Finding supplies to take with him had been simple enough, though he wasn’t sure how much longer his food was going to last. He hadn’t bothered taking a change of clothes, as that would only slow him down. The food he had brought was carried in a small bag which was slung over his shoulder. Koenma hoped he didn’t look too much like a servant and looked more like a pirate, though even he knew the chances of that were slim to none.
The sun was still high overhead and the sky was almost clear with but a few lazy clouds drifting about. Between hauling his supplies, wearing several thick layers of clothing and the heat from the sun beating down on him, a sweat had broken out on his brow. He longed to remove his hat and find lighter clothing but such was not an option lest he be discovered before he made himself known.
The plan was to find his father’s crew, the one he had been a part of prior to his death, beg for mercy and ask that they assist him in the rescue of Botan, Lady Yukina and Lady Keiko, the Governor’s daughter. It had seemed like a good idea to begin with, though now Koenma was housing serious doubts. What reason was there for pirates of all people to help someone working under the Queen? He would have to barter for their services, though there was no guarantee that even then they would agree to help. But Koenma felt he had something they would work for.
No, Koenma felt he had something they would die for.
The tavern door swung open with a loud creak. He winced but no one paid him any mind; they were too caught up in their own business, which was comprised entirely of drinking rum for the most part, to worry about any strangers. Seeing as no one was about to notice him, he let the door fall back with a slam behind him. He took a cautious step forward, still unsure of his new surroundings. There were a few pirates lined up against the bar that looked particularly vicious and even those who appeared to be quite sober seemed ready to attack if need be.
It was then, and only then, that Koenma realized he had no idea who he was searching for looked like.
He almost turned and headed back home then and there, but stopped himself from doing so for two reasons: one, it had been quite difficult getting to Tortuga in the first place and it would be next to impossible to get back anytime soon, and two, thoughts of Botan and the horrible things those pirates were doing to her were enough to fuel his drive to save her. So, rather than turn back and forget the entire incident had ever happened, he found himself marching to a table in the back of the tavern, making sure to keep his head low and not make eye contact with anyone.
The table he chose was positioned in such a way that he had a decent view of the entire building. If the pirates he was looking for were here, which in itself was highly unlikely, no doubt this would be their first and, quite possibly, only stop. The pirates he were looking for were, as far as he knew, a bit more ‘classy’ than your average buccaneer and it didn’t seem likely that they would pull in to Tortuga to begin with. Even so, he kept his eyes peeled for anyone that appeared to be more than a washed-up pirate chugging rum.
Unfortunately, now that he had a better look, it seemed he was the only sober man within a mile radius.
Koenma sighed and tipped his hat up, several strands of brown hair falling into his eyes and blocking his view. He frowned and brushed them away with an irritated sigh. This entire plan seemed to be utterly pointless. It was extremely likely that he would be unable to find the right pirates. If that did happen, where would that leave him? He wouldn’t know where to start or what to do in order to fetch the girls properly and safely.
In short, he was doomed.
-----------------
Crimson eyes glared on at the scene being played out before him. His lip was raised in a slight snarl, revealing the glint of what could almost be mistaken for a fang in his disgust. It was nothing more than the typical beer brawl, though it made him almost reconsider his decision to join his shipmates in their search. Aside from his crew, he found most humans to be utterly pathetic; this only proved his case.
“And we really want to be just like them?” He shifted his gaze from the fight to his taller companions. The shorter of the two raised his lips in a soft smile.
“I doubt your high standards will allow us to sink so low,” he mockingly chided.
“He’s not here,” the other said. He was the tallest of the three. “What makes you think he’d be here, anyway? He’s gotta know we’re looking for him.”
“He has nowhere else to go. With a father for a pirate his options will be severely limited.”
“And if he runs,” Hiei added as he fingered the hilt of his blade, “we’ll still find him.”
“Yes, well, try to cap the amount of bloodshed,” Kurama warned, emerald eyes narrowing into a stern glare as he stared down at the smaller man. “If we can get him willingly, then let us do so.”
“We’d better stop at the tavern before we leave,” Kuwabara reminded as they made their way around the fight. “Chuu was moaning about the last of his killer.” Kurama nodded and couldn’t help but look amused as Hiei charged ahead, muttering something about ‘bloody Australian pirates and their alcohol’. By the time they arrived at the musty tavern, Hiei had already headed inside, the door still swinging on its hinges after his forceful entrance.
As a trio they selected a table well enough away from the bar, settling into their chairs as if they’d been there their entire life. Although they were more of a civilized band of pirates (to some extent), one couldn’t consider themselves to be a pirate at all if they hadn’t docked up in Tortuga and had a good drink. As such, they had found themselves in the tavern more than they cared to admit, usually due to Chuu’s constant complaint of lack of rum. Even still they weren’t considered regulars and, quite thankfully, their entrance went, for the most part, unnoticed.
“We need a plan,” Kurama stated, glancing between his friends. “Or else we’ll never find him.”
“Does he even know we’re after him?” Kuwabara asked, raising a brow.
“He has to know,” Hiei snapped, growing impatient. He just wanted to find the kid and get the hell out of there. “How else has he evaded us for so long?”
“Three years is plenty of time to get himself killed as well,” Kurama added, narrowing his eyes. “We can’t be sure he’s even still alive.” They fell into a thoughtful silence, each attempting to come up with some means of making their search easier. The young man they were looking for wouldn’t, more likely than not, come willingly. Thus they would need a plant hat was discreet yet effective if they ever hoped to find him.
-----------------------
Koenma appeared to be the only one who noticed the strange man enter the tavern. He was obviously a pirate and, from the glare he was giving most of the other ‘customers’, a deadly one at that. Aside from the look that clearly stated he would kill all those who annoyed him in any form, shape or manner, he looked rather odd. Although short he was quite intimidating. A sword hung from his waist on his left, a pistol on his right. A strip of white cloth was tied around his forehead, a few strands of what seemed to be gravity-defying hair reaching over to just above his red eyes. His pants were black and dirty, as were his worn boots. His shirt was the same faded black as his slacks, topped with what Koenma assumed had once been a white vest that had clearly seen better days.
The strange pirate was quickly joined by two other men whom were just as odd, though much taller than their scary companion. The shorter of the two had thick red hair, several strands of which were decorated with multi-colored, mis-matched beads. His pants were brown, topped with a white shirt and tan vest that hung down to his mid-thigh. In spite of his long shirt, a belt was wound around his waist and from it hung a blade and gun nearly identical to the shorter man’s weapons.
The third man had a striped, orange bandana covering his head, a few strands of vibrant orange hair poking out, only just visible. The strands which tied the knot hung down to the ends of his neck, were they cut off at the white and blue striped shirt he wore. The sleeves had, at one point or another, been ripped leaving jagged edges and making it a tank-top. Two brown cuffs adorned his wrists, matching his brown boots. His pants were black and had ragged ends. In addition to the pistol, he sported two swords as his waist.
Koenma watched as they chose a table on the opposite side of the room. They appeared to converse a few moments before falling into silence. Eventually the tallest moved, standing up and walking a short distance away from the table. He paused and turned, telling the other two something, before heading to the bar. Koenma stared after him until the man looked his way, and he averted his eyes back to the tabletop. It wasn’t long until he found eyes on him.
He looked up, locking his gaze with a familiar pair of crimson eyes. Koenma looked away again, but there was no doubt they knew he was watching them. Or had been, as he also didn’t doubt that they had every intention of killing him; the look in the shorter man’s eyes was all it took to tell him.
Said man must have been quite fast as in the next instant he was standing at the opposite side of Koenma’s table. His redheaded companion was close behind him, though the tallest of them remained at the counter. Koenma blinked, eyes wide at the sudden approach. He wasn’t sure what to say or do; obviously he was in no condition to barter.
“C-Can I help you?” Koenma stuttered, mentally cursing as he realized how stupid he sounded.
“Actually, I do believe you can,” the redhead replied. His face was calm as his lips curved into a sly, dangerous smile. “Your father was Enma, was he not?”
“So he was with your crew.” Koenma had heard enough stories of the infamous pirates his father had tagged along with for most of his life; he had always failed to mention, however, what they looked like.
“We have a proposition for you,” Kurama began, his smile growing. They had the right kid; this had to be him. Who else would waltz around pirate town looking like a civilized person?
“And I have a proposition for you,” Koenma quickly countered just as Kurama opened his mouth to speak. The pirate stood there, mouth agape in shock that he had been interrupted, when Hiei spoke.
“You are in no position to be making deals, boy,” he snapped. Kurama shut his mouth.
“You want my blood,” Koenma continued, his eyes locked on Kurama as he ignored Hiei. He seemed to be the reasoning one of the trio and, if anyone would listen or even consider his deal, it would be him. “You want my blood. I want to rescue my.. ah, friends and you’re the only ones who can do it. You help me, and I’ll give you my life.” The two pirates fell silent as Kuwabara made his way over to their table, the look on his face expressing his confusion quite clearly. They took up seats together, Hiei in the middle with Kuwabara on his right, Kurama on his left. The latter leaned forward, arms resting on the table as he folded his hands together. His intense green eyes focused on Koenma and, rather than look suspicious as they had moments before, they held a curious gleam.
“Go on.”
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Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 10:58 pm
Cursed: Chapter Four - Lost Cargo
Later That Night - Tortuga
Compared to the merciless bloodshed and mocking laughter he had been expecting, Koenma found that making a deal with pirates was really quite simple. For pirates they weren’t particularly uncivil, though the way Hiei handled his sword was more than enough to make Koenma just a little jumpy. Kurama made sure that no one lost their head and it was only when he was within three feet of him that Koenma felt safe enough to speak.
Said demon had made his way to the bar, leaving Koenma in the unpleasant company of Hiei and Kuwabara. Neither of the two seemed likely to speak, be it to him or each other. In fact, Koenma suspected that the two weren’t particularly best of friends, as Hiei suggested with the dark glare he shot at Kuwabara each time he so much as sneezed. As if the mounting tension weren’t enough, the sword at Hiei’s belt was worn loose enough for the light to glint off the blade, sending shivers down Koenma’s spine each time the gleam caught his eye.
Honestly, he was surprised he wasn’t already dead.
He opened his mouth to speak, the words dying on his tongue as Kurama returned from the bar. His expression was unsettling; red eyebrows furrowed, lips settled into a thin line. He sat carefully down, green eyes scanning the bar with a dark expression. Once he was satisfied, he returned his attention to the others, leaning forward in his chair and resting his arms on the tabletop.
“A ship went down yesterday morning just off Singapore,” he informed them. His green eyes darted around him one last time. “Jones isn’t being picky anymore. We’ve got to be careful.”
“Dragging this... land lubber on board will bring us our deaths and nothing more,” Hiei growled, his crimson eyes locked on Koenma. “This is a mistake, Kurama. Kill him now and we’ll be rid of our curse for free.”
“We don’t want to make a scene, do we?” Kurama replied, raising a brow. “Besides, we may have use for him yet.” His sly smile returned. Kuwabara leaned back in his seat, his own grin playing his lips.
Koenma swallowed and wondered what he had gotten himself into.
---------------------------
Night had fallen outside the pub. The cold wind was like a blast in the face, biting at Koenma’s nose and cheeks. The sky was empty of clouds, the moon and stars twinkling high overhead. Kuwabara, Kurama and Hiei turned and headed for the coast, making a casual veer to the left. Koenma followed while rubbing his arms, eyes constantly darting back and forth as pirates leered out at him in a menacing manner he’d quite forgotten since his last visit to Tortuga. Granted, that had been three years ago and he had been promptly surrounded by civilized people.
“Hey, kid.”
Koenma lifted his head and realized he stood alone. He looked around to locate the voice. At last his gaze landed on a young woman, her face and other features obscured by the shadows she stood in.
“Yes?” Koenma managed; he sounded surer than he felt.
“Your boat is that way.” The woman jerked a thumb in the opposite direction Koenma had been headed.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “I knew that.”
“Tortuga isn’t a place for little boys to play. You’d best go back to where you came from.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” His voice was cold as he glared at the woman in the shadows. He was not a little boy.
“And why not? There can’t be anything for you here or on that ship.”
“I make it a habit not to divulge personal information to strangers.”
“And you use big words, too. Charming.”
“What do you have against me, anyway?”
“Nothing,” she spat, her voice bitter. “They let you on board, didn’t they? And you aren’t even a pirate. When I had my ship, pirates were the only worthy souls in my crew.”
“And, uh, what happened to your ship?”
“Davy Jones.”
Koenma froze as he felt what little warmth he had drain from his face and his blood run cold. For a moment he simply stood there, his breath pumping out in small bursts of cloud. Davy Jones.
“A-And what did you do to-to-“
“Have him destroy my ship?” The woman let out a short, harsh laugh. “I didn’t do anything. It was the first mate of my crew that doomed us all.”
“You escaped Davy Jones?”
“Aye. His squid was nothing, though it managed to take a piece of me along with it. Why the interest in Davy Jones, boy?”
“Nothing that has to do with you, I’m sure.”
“Try me. Your father was Enma, wasn’t he? A fool of a man, that one, but a damn good pirate.”
“Who are you?” Koenma had regained some of his confidence, though he wasn’t sure how long it was going to last or if it was going to get him anywhere.
“No one of particular interest,” the woman responded. “But I suppose there’s no harm in telling.” She stepped forward into the bright moonlight. There was a green bandana on her head, a stray bit of ginger hair peaking out from beneath it. One eye was covered in a patch (Koenma suspected that there was nothing behind it), the other a shimmering brown. She wasn’t nearly as tall as him, though he suspected she was a few good inches taller than Hiei. Her clothes were of the usual pirate garb and it wouldn’t take a genius to tell that she had been a pirate for many years.
“I’ve seen what you look like, though that doesn’t tell me who you are.”
“Of course. Silly me.” Her laugh was fake and cruel. “They call me Mukuro.”
“Mukuro?” The name sounded familiar, though Koenma could not recall just where he had heard it before. He suspected it came from one of father’s stories, though considering they hadn’t even been in the same crew he didn’t know why he might have mentioned her.
“There’s no sense in keeping the boys waiting,” she told him, a light smirk on her face. “Seeing as you’re the new kid in town, I’ll be nice and show you to the ship.”
“What’s the catch?”
“Catch? There is no catch.” She turned and began walking up the shore, avoiding the waves as they quietly snuck further up the sandy beach. Koenma stared after her a long moment, attempting to decide what had happened, before he took off after her, jogging to catch up with her brisk pace.
He heard the ship before he saw it, the waves loud as they crashed against it. There was the flicker of movement on deck coupled with shouts and laughter. The dock creaked beneath their weight, an almost eerie sensation in the moonlight. Mukuro paused several feet away, gazing up at the ship with an unreadable expression.
“Here you are, boy.”
It did not take long for them to be noticed. Kurama strolled over in a controlled, leisurely gait. A curious looked fogged his features as he slowed to a stop before them. Hiei and Kuwabara looked over from the gangplank with obvious interest, though neither spoke a word or made any other indication that they had noticed Koenma and Mukuro’s arrival.
“We thought you had gotten lost,” Kurama said, unable to hide his amusement. “And it appears we were correct.” His green eyes shifted to Mukuro. “I see you’ve made a friend.” Koenma could not help but feel that he was being mocked in some form or another.
“I didn’t know you were recruiting, Kurama.”
“This is a special circumstance,” Kurama replied. “I’m sure you know quite well who this is.”
“Who could forget?” Her gaze landed lazily on the now approaching Hiei and Kuwabara. “It seems your crew is growing impatient.”
“Our crew,” Hiei corrected, crimson eyes narrowing to slits as he stared on at Mukuro. “We co-captain this ship. Can we help you?”
“I was simply returning your lost cargo,” Mukuro responded. “Though perhaps there is some way you can return the favor...”
“What do you want?” Hiei snapped. He was growing impatient with the crew whom were growing impatient with their delay.
“To join your crew.”
“No.”
“I’ve been captain of my own vessel for nearly as long as your little boat has been out at sea. Why are you so reluctant?”
“We have no need for more sailors.”
“There is the option of taking the boy for myself.”
“It would get you nowhere.”
“And you would be stuck as well.”
“We accept your offer,” Kurama interrupted. He shot warning glances at both of them. “The boys on board will show you the sleeping quarters and give you your duties.” He turned and beckoned Koenma to follow, taking long, angry strides up the dock toward the ship. Mukuro smirked and followed along behind a trembling Koenma, pausing to wink at Hiei.
“It’s bad luck to bring women aboard,” Hiei hissed, crossing his arms as he stared on in disgust.
“Something tells me it’d be a lot worse not to,” Kuwabara answered, looking nervously between Hiei and the ship. There was a pause in which someone on deck shouted “SHIZURU”, followed by the shatter of breaking glass.
“Again.”
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