Black Wolf's legend: chapter 3
Title: Black Wolf's legend (3/?)
Pairing: Ohmiya
Summary: Nino embarks on a journey to Port Royal, the jewel of the English crown in the Caribbean Sea, to begin a new life with his uncle. But his merchant vessel is attacked by a crew of ferocious pirates. What fate awaits him?
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine! Co-written with aidill
Genre: romance, adventure, angst
Words count: 2.223
AN: betaed by beastlover (Thanks a lot!). Sorry for the lame attempt at angst (I'm really not good at that TT_TT). mikamichael , I'm sorry, I promised you Juntoshi in this chapter, but it got too long. Next chapter, I promise I'll give you Juntoshi!! m(_ _)m
Previous
+++++++++++
He awoke from his sleep with a nagging feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong, in his house. He tried to dismiss it but the impression only grew stronger, until the initial, vague hunch of something amiss in his usually peaceful home turned into fear. He didn’t know where that sudden feeling of anxiety had come from, but with each beat of his heart, it grew bigger and bigger, until he was shivering uncontrollably. He couldn’t stand it any more.
Hugging his old teddy bear, he left his small room trying to be as noiseless as possible. He needed to find his parents; they would know what to do. At first, his father would look at him surprised. “You're seven years old already, son. You're too big to get scared by a nightmare,” he would probably say, but he would smile anyway. His mother would hug him, and without saying a word, she would take him in their bed, putting him and his bear between them. “Good night, darling,” she would whisper, kissing the top of his head. And everything would be o.k. again. This stupid fear would disappear and he would feel safe again.
He rushed towards his parent's room, his small footsteps softly echoing down the corridor lit up by the moonlight. The house was completely quiet but he could hear an odd murmur, like waves breaking against a cliff, coming from outside. What, exactly, was that sound? Their house wasn’t near enough to the beach to hear the sea. The feeling of apprehension grew even stronger; something bad, something definitely horrible was going to happen. He needed to reach his parent’s room before it was too late. Wait a moment, too late for what? He felt confused.
He was about to cross the part of the corridor that led to the big marble stairs of the entrance hall when a sudden flash of light, near the main door, attracted his attention. What was that? Squatting, he put his teddy bear on the floor and carefully peered through the crosspieces of the stair’s rail. He thought he had seen someone moving down there. But who could be awake at this hour? The servants had gone to sleep hours ago. Only the guards would be awake at now, but they should be patrolling outside the house, shouldn’t they?
At that moment, the moon appeared from behind some clouds, lighting up the whole hall through its large windows. He had been right; there was someone, a man, moving near the entrance. Was he checking if the door was locked? No, he was opening it! Why? He was sure his parents didn't expect anybody this late at night. He looked, surprised, at the man. He looked familiar. He was sure he knew him. He was about to ask aloud what he was doing when his breath caught in his throat. A man had entered through the just opened door. He didn't know him, he wasn't one of his parents' guards, but he had a sabre and he looked a bit like the pirates of his picture books. Another man followed the first one, and another one, and another. Who were they? What were they doing in his house?
Suddenly, all the corridor’s windows snapped open, their lace curtains floating eerily into the house like pale, ghostly arms. The murmur he had heard before, increased, becoming louder and louder, almost deafening. Now, he could make out sounds from it; muskets’ shots, cries of pain, shouts of desperation…Firmly clutching his teddy bear to his chest, he slowly approached the nearest window and risked a peek outside. The scene in front of his eyes chilled him to the bone. Bloodstained bodies lying on the streets, houses on fire, women and children fleeing for their lives… And the strangers he had seen before were everywhere, destroying everything and brutally slashing anyone who dared to stand in their way.
Terrified, he stepped back into the corridor, almost falling backwards in his haste. At that moment, a gun shot fired, shortly followed by another one, echoed in the corridor.
They came from his parents’ room. Everything got completely silent. He thought he might have gone suddenly deaf. No more shouts or cries coming from outside, no more fighting … not even the rustle of the lace curtains moved by the breeze. He couldn’t hear anything. No, that wasn’t completely true. There was a soft, dripping sound coming from somewhere in the proximity. What could it be?
The little boy slowly followed the sound, firmly hugging his bear. He desperately tried to stop himself, tried to avoid the unavoidable, but it was impossible. Step after step, the boy got nearer to his parents’ room. Powerless, he could only see himself: his throat constricted in fear, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Their room was now in sight and there was something, some kind of liquid, leaking under the door. Moonlight lit it up. It was a muted red. It was blood.
He knew it was too late. He had known it from the very beginning. Why he couldn’t stop it?
The boy slowly opened the door. His parents’ room seemed to be undisturbed; everything seemed to be in its place, nothing out of the ordinary. His parents were asleep in their bed; he could almost hear their placid breathing. But he knew better than that, he knew what came after.
“Ha ha ha ha”
Here it was.
“Ha ha ha HA”
The laugh had started. There was nothing he could do now. The nightmare had begun.
“HA HA HA HA”
The room suddenly changed. Bloodstains appeared on the curtains, on the small sofa, on the floor. In the middle of his parents’ bed, a growing patch of blood formed. Now, he could see them clearly. They weren’t breathing. They were dead. His mother was looking blindly at the room’s ceiling; her face showed her surprise at the moment of her death. His father had died trying to protect her with his own body. He had been shot in the back.
He tried to shout, but no sound left his lips. He could only hear that laugh, growing louder and louder. He noticed a shadow in the middle of the room. It was a man. He was holding a still smoking gun in his hand and he was laughing like a madman, his face distorted in a grotesque mask, a mix of joy and craziness. He could never forget his face, no matter how many years might pass. It was as if a fire had engraved it in his mind.
The boy stood there, motionless, paralyzed by fear… no, it wasn’t fear, it was something else. He could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, bile slowly rising up into his throat. He wasn’t afraid any more. He only felt hatred, a growing, visceral feeling of hatred that threatened to suffocate him. Not a boy any more, he turned to take his teddy bear, now transformed into a cutlass. Shivering with rage, he gripped it so hard that he could feel his nails digging into his palm. With a shout of fury, he charged against the hideous man, determined to end that detestable laugh once and for all.
His own shout awoke him. Ohno sat up in his bed, startled. His body was covered in sweat; his breathing was hurried, as if he had been running all this time instead of sleeping in his bed; his right hand was gripping the linens so strongly that his nails had dug into his palm through the fabric.
Slowly, almost painfully, he relaxed his had, raising it to brush his sweaty bangs off of his forehead. He felt surprised when he noticed that his lashes were damp. He touched his checks carefully. He could feel they were damp too. He had been crying in his sleep again. He was still crying.
With an angry gesture, he swept his tears away. This time things would be different. This time, he would make sure that monster paid for all his crimes. His beloved parents, the people of his village that were unfairly killed to satisfy that man’s greed, all of them would be avenged. Even if it was the last thing he did in his life.
~~
For umpteenth time that day, Nino walked around the limited dimensions of his prison - guest’s cabin as Aiba always insisted on calling it, - like a caged beast. He couldn’t help it. He was bored out of his mind, having nothing else to do inside those four walls but stare at his hands and his rather short fingers.
He had been imprisoned in that little room for three days already. True, his captors had been unexpectedly gentle with him so far; nobody had mistreated him in any way, his room was clean and comfortable, they fed him regularly - he ate even better than in the merchant vessel! But apart from Aiba’s short visits, he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. As far as he knew, he could be in a phantom pirate ship, with the lanky pirate as its only human crew member. Nobody else had come to see him. Not even that unnerving captain.
Nino didn’t know what to think about that man. First he had kissed him, as playful and teasing as an impish teenager. Then, he had looked at him with such hatred and disdain that the young boy still shivered, remembering the other man’s glare. And finally… finally nothing. Not a visit, not even a word. If he didn’t know better, he would think that the short man was purposely ignoring him - the idea pissed him off for no reason.
He watched the sun slipping gently over the horizon through the small porthole of his cabin, its last rays lighting up the sky with a myriad colours. Sunset meant it was almost dinner time. Aiba should be there at any moment now. He stepped away from the small window, sighing relieved.
“At least I will have someone to talk to, even if he is obviously not completely right in the head,” he snorted.
Nino would rather eat his pillow than admit it, but he had grown quite fond of the lanky pirate. The young man was ridiculously amicable, always with that infectious, bright smile plastered on his face and his futile attempts to look more pirate-ish through his absurd vocabulary. No matter how many ‘Ahoy’, ‘Yo-ho-ho’ or ‘Aye’ the young blonde could use, Nino was sure that nobody would take a pirate who asks you ‘to walk the plank, please’ seriously.
“Hey Nino, here it’s your dinner!”
Speaking of the devil, here he was in all his pirate-ish glory. Nino looked at the young man and gasped surprised.
“Wh-what has happened to you? You didn’t have that eye patch yesterday!” He hurried to the blonde’s side, worried despite himself about the other man’s welfare.
“Do you like it? It definitely gives me a dangerous pirate look, doesn’t it? Dangerous, but romantically tragic at the same time, right?” the young pirate stopped for a moment in front of Nino’s small mirror to admire his new look.
Nino gazed, dumbfounded, at the proud, young man. ‘Not completely right in the head’ wasn’t good enough. ‘Idiotic’ or ‘bizarre’ would definitely be a better description for Aiba’s behaviour.
“Sure, whatever you say.”
Shaking his head in defeat, the boy sat on one of the cabin’s chairs, willing to ignore Aiba’s quirks and oddities if only to preserve his sanity. He was expecting the other man to leave the dishes on the table, as always. But once again, the lanky pirate surprised him by arranging another set of dishes beside Nino’s. Then, he took the seat in front of Nino, smiling happily at the astonished young man.
“What are you doing?”
The answer seemed obvious, but he couldn’t help it, he had to ask.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m having dinner with you, of course!” the cheerful young man answered, without batting an eyelash.
“Yes, I can see that. The question is why are you having dinner with me?”
“Well, you always eat alone, right?” he gave Nino a slightly apologetic look. Why the young man should feel apologetic about it was beyond Nino’s understanding. After all they were pirates, weren’t they? Plundering, kidnapping… What the hell? Even murdering a few men should be as natural as drinking rum for them!
“It’s quite sad,” the lanky man continued, oblivious to Nino’s - almost comical - look of disbelief. “So today, I’ve decided to keep you company!”
For a few seconds, Nino waited for the rest of the explanation, but seeing the other man attacking his food with remarkable enthusiasm, he realised that he had received the whole thing already.
“It’s not like I’m complaining, you know? But last time I checked, I was a prisoner on a pirate ship. This pirate ship, to be more precise”
“Your point?” Aiba asked, giving Nino a quizzical gaze. The young pirate kept munching his food as if it was perfectly normal for him to have dinner with a prisoner.
“You know what? Forget it,” Nino wisely decided to give up. He could recognize a lost battle when he saw it.
“O.k.! Could you pass me the smashed potatoes, please?”
“Of course”
+++++++++++
AN: Btw, My sister and I are going on holiday for two weeks. I'll try to reply as many coments as I can before that. See you all soon~
Next
Pairing: Ohmiya
Summary: Nino embarks on a journey to Port Royal, the jewel of the English crown in the Caribbean Sea, to begin a new life with his uncle. But his merchant vessel is attacked by a crew of ferocious pirates. What fate awaits him?
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine! Co-written with aidill
Genre: romance, adventure, angst
Words count: 2.223
AN: betaed by beastlover (Thanks a lot!). Sorry for the lame attempt at angst (I'm really not good at that TT_TT). mikamichael , I'm sorry, I promised you Juntoshi in this chapter, but it got too long. Next chapter, I promise I'll give you Juntoshi!! m(_ _)m
Previous
+++++++++++
He awoke from his sleep with a nagging feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong, in his house. He tried to dismiss it but the impression only grew stronger, until the initial, vague hunch of something amiss in his usually peaceful home turned into fear. He didn’t know where that sudden feeling of anxiety had come from, but with each beat of his heart, it grew bigger and bigger, until he was shivering uncontrollably. He couldn’t stand it any more.
Hugging his old teddy bear, he left his small room trying to be as noiseless as possible. He needed to find his parents; they would know what to do. At first, his father would look at him surprised. “You're seven years old already, son. You're too big to get scared by a nightmare,” he would probably say, but he would smile anyway. His mother would hug him, and without saying a word, she would take him in their bed, putting him and his bear between them. “Good night, darling,” she would whisper, kissing the top of his head. And everything would be o.k. again. This stupid fear would disappear and he would feel safe again.
He rushed towards his parent's room, his small footsteps softly echoing down the corridor lit up by the moonlight. The house was completely quiet but he could hear an odd murmur, like waves breaking against a cliff, coming from outside. What, exactly, was that sound? Their house wasn’t near enough to the beach to hear the sea. The feeling of apprehension grew even stronger; something bad, something definitely horrible was going to happen. He needed to reach his parent’s room before it was too late. Wait a moment, too late for what? He felt confused.
He was about to cross the part of the corridor that led to the big marble stairs of the entrance hall when a sudden flash of light, near the main door, attracted his attention. What was that? Squatting, he put his teddy bear on the floor and carefully peered through the crosspieces of the stair’s rail. He thought he had seen someone moving down there. But who could be awake at this hour? The servants had gone to sleep hours ago. Only the guards would be awake at now, but they should be patrolling outside the house, shouldn’t they?
At that moment, the moon appeared from behind some clouds, lighting up the whole hall through its large windows. He had been right; there was someone, a man, moving near the entrance. Was he checking if the door was locked? No, he was opening it! Why? He was sure his parents didn't expect anybody this late at night. He looked, surprised, at the man. He looked familiar. He was sure he knew him. He was about to ask aloud what he was doing when his breath caught in his throat. A man had entered through the just opened door. He didn't know him, he wasn't one of his parents' guards, but he had a sabre and he looked a bit like the pirates of his picture books. Another man followed the first one, and another one, and another. Who were they? What were they doing in his house?
Suddenly, all the corridor’s windows snapped open, their lace curtains floating eerily into the house like pale, ghostly arms. The murmur he had heard before, increased, becoming louder and louder, almost deafening. Now, he could make out sounds from it; muskets’ shots, cries of pain, shouts of desperation…Firmly clutching his teddy bear to his chest, he slowly approached the nearest window and risked a peek outside. The scene in front of his eyes chilled him to the bone. Bloodstained bodies lying on the streets, houses on fire, women and children fleeing for their lives… And the strangers he had seen before were everywhere, destroying everything and brutally slashing anyone who dared to stand in their way.
Terrified, he stepped back into the corridor, almost falling backwards in his haste. At that moment, a gun shot fired, shortly followed by another one, echoed in the corridor.
They came from his parents’ room. Everything got completely silent. He thought he might have gone suddenly deaf. No more shouts or cries coming from outside, no more fighting … not even the rustle of the lace curtains moved by the breeze. He couldn’t hear anything. No, that wasn’t completely true. There was a soft, dripping sound coming from somewhere in the proximity. What could it be?
The little boy slowly followed the sound, firmly hugging his bear. He desperately tried to stop himself, tried to avoid the unavoidable, but it was impossible. Step after step, the boy got nearer to his parents’ room. Powerless, he could only see himself: his throat constricted in fear, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Their room was now in sight and there was something, some kind of liquid, leaking under the door. Moonlight lit it up. It was a muted red. It was blood.
He knew it was too late. He had known it from the very beginning. Why he couldn’t stop it?
The boy slowly opened the door. His parents’ room seemed to be undisturbed; everything seemed to be in its place, nothing out of the ordinary. His parents were asleep in their bed; he could almost hear their placid breathing. But he knew better than that, he knew what came after.
“Ha ha ha ha”
Here it was.
“Ha ha ha HA”
The laugh had started. There was nothing he could do now. The nightmare had begun.
“HA HA HA HA”
The room suddenly changed. Bloodstains appeared on the curtains, on the small sofa, on the floor. In the middle of his parents’ bed, a growing patch of blood formed. Now, he could see them clearly. They weren’t breathing. They were dead. His mother was looking blindly at the room’s ceiling; her face showed her surprise at the moment of her death. His father had died trying to protect her with his own body. He had been shot in the back.
He tried to shout, but no sound left his lips. He could only hear that laugh, growing louder and louder. He noticed a shadow in the middle of the room. It was a man. He was holding a still smoking gun in his hand and he was laughing like a madman, his face distorted in a grotesque mask, a mix of joy and craziness. He could never forget his face, no matter how many years might pass. It was as if a fire had engraved it in his mind.
The boy stood there, motionless, paralyzed by fear… no, it wasn’t fear, it was something else. He could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, bile slowly rising up into his throat. He wasn’t afraid any more. He only felt hatred, a growing, visceral feeling of hatred that threatened to suffocate him. Not a boy any more, he turned to take his teddy bear, now transformed into a cutlass. Shivering with rage, he gripped it so hard that he could feel his nails digging into his palm. With a shout of fury, he charged against the hideous man, determined to end that detestable laugh once and for all.
His own shout awoke him. Ohno sat up in his bed, startled. His body was covered in sweat; his breathing was hurried, as if he had been running all this time instead of sleeping in his bed; his right hand was gripping the linens so strongly that his nails had dug into his palm through the fabric.
Slowly, almost painfully, he relaxed his had, raising it to brush his sweaty bangs off of his forehead. He felt surprised when he noticed that his lashes were damp. He touched his checks carefully. He could feel they were damp too. He had been crying in his sleep again. He was still crying.
With an angry gesture, he swept his tears away. This time things would be different. This time, he would make sure that monster paid for all his crimes. His beloved parents, the people of his village that were unfairly killed to satisfy that man’s greed, all of them would be avenged. Even if it was the last thing he did in his life.
~~
For umpteenth time that day, Nino walked around the limited dimensions of his prison - guest’s cabin as Aiba always insisted on calling it, - like a caged beast. He couldn’t help it. He was bored out of his mind, having nothing else to do inside those four walls but stare at his hands and his rather short fingers.
He had been imprisoned in that little room for three days already. True, his captors had been unexpectedly gentle with him so far; nobody had mistreated him in any way, his room was clean and comfortable, they fed him regularly - he ate even better than in the merchant vessel! But apart from Aiba’s short visits, he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. As far as he knew, he could be in a phantom pirate ship, with the lanky pirate as its only human crew member. Nobody else had come to see him. Not even that unnerving captain.
Nino didn’t know what to think about that man. First he had kissed him, as playful and teasing as an impish teenager. Then, he had looked at him with such hatred and disdain that the young boy still shivered, remembering the other man’s glare. And finally… finally nothing. Not a visit, not even a word. If he didn’t know better, he would think that the short man was purposely ignoring him - the idea pissed him off for no reason.
He watched the sun slipping gently over the horizon through the small porthole of his cabin, its last rays lighting up the sky with a myriad colours. Sunset meant it was almost dinner time. Aiba should be there at any moment now. He stepped away from the small window, sighing relieved.
“At least I will have someone to talk to, even if he is obviously not completely right in the head,” he snorted.
Nino would rather eat his pillow than admit it, but he had grown quite fond of the lanky pirate. The young man was ridiculously amicable, always with that infectious, bright smile plastered on his face and his futile attempts to look more pirate-ish through his absurd vocabulary. No matter how many ‘Ahoy’, ‘Yo-ho-ho’ or ‘Aye’ the young blonde could use, Nino was sure that nobody would take a pirate who asks you ‘to walk the plank, please’ seriously.
“Hey Nino, here it’s your dinner!”
Speaking of the devil, here he was in all his pirate-ish glory. Nino looked at the young man and gasped surprised.
“Wh-what has happened to you? You didn’t have that eye patch yesterday!” He hurried to the blonde’s side, worried despite himself about the other man’s welfare.
“Do you like it? It definitely gives me a dangerous pirate look, doesn’t it? Dangerous, but romantically tragic at the same time, right?” the young pirate stopped for a moment in front of Nino’s small mirror to admire his new look.
Nino gazed, dumbfounded, at the proud, young man. ‘Not completely right in the head’ wasn’t good enough. ‘Idiotic’ or ‘bizarre’ would definitely be a better description for Aiba’s behaviour.
“Sure, whatever you say.”
Shaking his head in defeat, the boy sat on one of the cabin’s chairs, willing to ignore Aiba’s quirks and oddities if only to preserve his sanity. He was expecting the other man to leave the dishes on the table, as always. But once again, the lanky pirate surprised him by arranging another set of dishes beside Nino’s. Then, he took the seat in front of Nino, smiling happily at the astonished young man.
“What are you doing?”
The answer seemed obvious, but he couldn’t help it, he had to ask.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m having dinner with you, of course!” the cheerful young man answered, without batting an eyelash.
“Yes, I can see that. The question is why are you having dinner with me?”
“Well, you always eat alone, right?” he gave Nino a slightly apologetic look. Why the young man should feel apologetic about it was beyond Nino’s understanding. After all they were pirates, weren’t they? Plundering, kidnapping… What the hell? Even murdering a few men should be as natural as drinking rum for them!
“It’s quite sad,” the lanky man continued, oblivious to Nino’s - almost comical - look of disbelief. “So today, I’ve decided to keep you company!”
For a few seconds, Nino waited for the rest of the explanation, but seeing the other man attacking his food with remarkable enthusiasm, he realised that he had received the whole thing already.
“It’s not like I’m complaining, you know? But last time I checked, I was a prisoner on a pirate ship. This pirate ship, to be more precise”
“Your point?” Aiba asked, giving Nino a quizzical gaze. The young pirate kept munching his food as if it was perfectly normal for him to have dinner with a prisoner.
“You know what? Forget it,” Nino wisely decided to give up. He could recognize a lost battle when he saw it.
“O.k.! Could you pass me the smashed potatoes, please?”
“Of course”
+++++++++++
AN: Btw, My sister and I are going on holiday for two weeks. I'll try to reply as many coments as I can before that. See you all soon~
Next