A touch, tears smear floor

Hand begins its tragic tale

Doom's dance, fate betrayed 

"Mind that filthy bucket, you oaf!" Haizaki Shougo brushes the sleeves of his tunic as though Shigehiro has dirtied him. "That Alon man is so pissed off that he has made all of us clean. Who does that arrogant dog think he is?"

Answering will not help any of them, but Haizaki also has no love for being ignored.

"He has lost many crew members."

"If I were him," Haizaki scoffs, hauling a sloshing bucket of rancid, fly-swarmed offal, "we should be sailing back to our Empire." With a grunt of disgust, he upends the vile contents into a fetid trough beside a begrimed cupboard. "Why should I care about another king? I was doing well. I should be dying well, not spending my time on this." He sends a long, hard kick against the bucket. Thankfully, he does not do any real damage. Mayhaps deep inside, Haizaki knows he has no choice but to cooperate.

Leaving him be is the better choice. When a person like Haizaki is fuming, calming them down is fruitless.

Walking for minutes, he finally finds Alon, or at least, the captain finds him. He tries to avoid staring at the layers of bandages on Alon's chest. According to what he has heard, Alon was hacked with a long sword. He has only survived because of Temil, who sacrificed his life.

Although he has got nothing to do with any of it, Shigehiro cannot help but feel too sorry, as though he knew Temil when, in reality, he had never spoken to the deckhand.

Alon's usual playful smirk is now curled sourly. He waves him over. Agitated, Shigehiro follows. The captain has been in a foul mood, and who could blame him? Half of his men died. Somebody had the guts to jest that at least distributing provisions would not be a problem anymore. That servant received a blow to the jaw.

"Your job is to not walk. Your job is this." Alon thrusts a mop into his hands. "Swab the deck. Don't stop until I can see my face on it!"

Shigehiro swallows his protest. He cleaned many rooms back in the Palace, so this should not be a problem for him. But the ship is so humongous that a day will not be enough to clean the deck.

Instead of pointing out the obvious flaw in the command, he nods and thanks Alon.

He starts at the stern, the back of the ship. Yani has taught Shigehiro some details, and whilst they are difficult to pronounce and thus difficult to remember, Shigehiro believes he is getting better at naming them. Speaking of Yani, Shigehiro barely sees him after the attack. He ought to give his thanks to the man who saved his life from a fatal slashing. But how can he do that when Yani is only there to teach them how to use swords? Afterwards, he goes back to his duty.

"After the stern, I will clean the starboard," he mutters. The starboard is the right section of the ship, the opposite side of the port. He nods to himself, quite happy that he recalls the terms well.

Wetting the frayed mop proves a challenge as the bucket slides perilously with each roll of the ship. He traps it between his boots. Soon, he realises his foolishness as briny water sloshes over his shoes. He sighs, contemplating his life.

"You can kick the bucket."

He jumps and freezes. He needn't turn around to confirm whose voice it is. The handler has only spoken to him a few times, and those instances are enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

Mibuchi Reo is not necessarily cruel. He is just. Too just.

"In order to do things here on the ship, you must follow its rhythm. At first, I had a hard time figuring it out, but she is predictable once you are used to her."

In the Palace, if you are too intimidated to speak, you must simply keep your head down and nod respectfully. And that's what he does.

"If the ship sways to the right, you must kick the bucket to the left, obviously. Are you even listening to me?" Mibuchi lifts Shigehiro's chin with a closed fan. "We are no longer enclosed by walls. You might as well use your tongue when I'm speaking to you."

And yet you're still acting as if we were in the Palace, he wishes to say. What does this person want from him? After what happened, he had expected that they would be united, that they would abandon their statuses. As he can see now, some of them are still drunk with power.

"My pardons. I find myself fatigued of late," he answers, just so he will be left alone.

"So do the rest of us. We are all tired. Your disrespect, however, cannot be justified."

What do you know about working? You have done nothing. He bites his tongue, holding all the insults. Shigehiro has to remind himself that by the time they are on land, he will be a cupbearer again. He will be nothing like he has always been before.

The only person who thinks he is more than that is not here with him. He is not even sure if Kuroko is alive and doing well. A sinister voice tells him that if his brother is suffering at the hands of the pirates, he should simply die. That'd be better, wouldn't it? At least he would still have his dignity. He would suffer no more.

Tears begin to swell in his eyes. Shigehiro blinks them away as he dunks the mop into the bucket, sending water splashing over his feet... and Mibuchi's.

A loud slap echoes through the silence. "If you have a problem with I, you need not do such a thing. You need only to tell me what you have on your mind."

Mibuchi slaps like Lord Chen. Hard and unforgiving. As if his mere existence is a burden to all of them. But you're a lowborn. You must remember that he tells himself again and again...

"Do that again, and I will give you something to beg my forgiveness for," Mibuchi scoffs. He waits for Shigehiro to fire back, and when it does not come, he says, "Of course, a slave shall never answer."

Shigehiro slaps him back.

What foul madness has possessed him? Shigehiro's traitorous hand trembles as he raises it, marvelling at the thrill of satisfaction coursing through his veins. First shock, then panic, floods him.

In a second, his queer expressions have changed to wide eyes, his breathing shallow and rapid. "I... I have no idea why I did that," he says.

Mibuchi stands there, mouth twisting as he touches the side of his face. That is when Shigehiro notices that the corner of the handler's lips is bleeding. Of course... His hands are bigger and stronger. He could strangle the man in front of him and throw him—

Clutching his hair, Shigehiro wills those negative thoughts away. How disgusting they are! "My sincere apologies. I truly did not mean to do that. However..." he drops his hands, letting them sway. "I highly suggest avoiding me for now. I am not in a good condition."

"How dare you let your tongue say those words! How dare you let your hand hurt me!" Mibuchi raises his arm and aims at him again.

He is not thinking; he does not even realise what he is doing, but Shigehiro seizes the handler's wrist. "Begging your pardons! Please do not test your luck! I have too many things on my mind!"

Mibuchi is slowly losing his posture. He bares his teeth, resembling a lion that is about to pounce on its prey. But as Shigehiro stares at him more, he realises that a lion can be a prey too.

"What has forced you to do that, pray tell me?" Mibuchi wrenches his hand free, veins throbbing in his neck.

His life is over. When they leave this ship, he will be executed. This is why Kuroko always worries about him. As his cousins once told him, he would be dead before he reached the old age of twenty. Mostly because sometimes he can be too honest with how he feels once he has had enough.

It should not have been him. He had another cousin who was more attentive, more elegant and had a way of pleasing the nobles.

"You better tell me or this shall never be forgiven. Captain Alon has told me if nothing impedes our voyage, we will be in Shoyen in a few days. So speak, or forever hold your tongue."

"I..." Shigehiro's voice trails off. The fire is gone and the full realisation of what he has done settles on his chest. Whether he speaks or not, he will receive the same punishment. He might as well spit it out and get it over with. Internally, he apologises to Kuroko. He is indeed as stupid as Lord Chen thinks he is.

"I detest your decision," Shigehiro begins. "Many a year, I worked as an honest cupbearer. I need not ever steal anything. Need not ever harm anyone." Until today, his brain mocks him so. "Gods bear witness to my loyalty, and yet I do know none of it matters. There is no justice in the Palace. My brother has been the kindest Dancer. He has never been in any trouble and yet the lot of you avoid him like the plague he is not!"

The handler says not a word as Shigehiro catches his breath. Dread spills on him, twisting his heart. At least before his death, he has somehow let someone hear his brother's pain. Futile it may be, but what is done is done.

"By the grace of the Red Lion King, what has demented your sanity?" Mibuchi says.

His shoulders sag. He tried. Never did he assume he would succeed. And yet it is pumping up his anger once more.

"Have you truly lost your mind? If we had tried to take him back, what do you think would have happened? The gods have blessed us that only Alon's men have been slain and none of ours. And what shall I report to our Empire? That the cursed prince of Azure Dragon has broken into this ship and taken half of our supplies? Do you know what would happen if the Red Lion heard of this? There would be blood. There would be war."

The lion is proud. Was that not what Kuroko had said? That even a mere cupbearer like him could start a war if he died in the hands of another kingdom.

When he finds nothing to counter with, Mibuchi stands taller, reminding him who he is. "Foolish boy. You never think, do you? And what else you do not know? That you were right. Your efforts and your brother's generosity are meaningless. And so it is with each of us.

"Do you think I want this? Do you think it makes me feel glad that I lost my best Dancer? And what has Kuroko ever done to cross the bridge? I have no idea what his former handler did to him, but he has never shown love for me. So why should I? He is cold. He is distant. He acts as though none of us exists. So stuff your cavil into your mouth. You know nothing!"

Every patience he has had shreds off.

"It is you who knows not a thing, I'm afraid! Yes, you are indeed right! You do not know how his old handler treated him, and let me tell you this: she was brutal to him! I don't know why she did all that, but Kuroko would always have bruises. Most likely to bring him out of the Palace." Everyone understands that no Dancer should have marks on their skin. Aiya might have been cruel, but he doubts she was an idiot.

"He has never shown love? Why? Isn't that your duty as his handler? You should have known something was going on with him. You should have approached him first. You should have forgone your pride. That is the problem with people like you who hold titles! And why wouldn't he act cold when everyone treated him as if he were a demon? You expected a lot from him and yet you never did a thing for him!"

Shigehiro hears footsteps coming towards them. In a moment, the deck is filled with the Dancers and the servants. They must have been close all along, listening to them. Every eye is fixed on him, waiting.

He picks up the bucket and the mop, striding towards the port. No more. He has nothing more to say. He knows they will try to give reasons for their maltreatment of Kuroko. But what good will it do for him if he listens to them? Surely, his death is nearing.

🌑

One last bowl and Tetsuya is free to cage himself inside the cabin of his again. At least, that is what he hopes to do. The captain may have warned them about laying a finger on him, but they are still rogues and savages like them do not honour their vows.

A stab of guilt pricks him when he remembers what Aomine has told him. He tries to erase it. He refuses to believe it. In the back of his mind, he knows there has to be a truth about it. After all, he became a slave after his folks sold him as if he were nothing. He grits his teeth. Of all the years he had been there, only Akashi and Ogiwara had been kind to him. Lord Chen, maybe too, but he does not truly count, does he?

The people of Shoyen do not look like him. They have bigger, rounder eyes and darker skin. Their tongues may speak the same language, but anyone can detect the dialect and queer elocution. Tetsuya guesses that since he is not from here, it is his tongue that is queer.

He wanted to ask Ama more, but he did not want to risk it. In the end, it is Aomine who holds the answers. He tells himself that this will help him gain the captain's trust. Vulnerability is a thing that every human does not want to show, and yet they find comfort in it with the right person.

Tetsuya has to be the right person.

The square wooden door is enormous in contrast with the other cabins. Its knobs are two skulls biting into one lit candle each.

Holding the wood tray in his other hand, Tetsuya knocks. "Kaptan, 'tis I with your soup." He flattens his ear against the door, listening for any movement. And then he hears the confirmation.

Breathing in and out, he pulls the knob—it is quite cool underneath his palm. As he enters, he notices that the cabin is mostly dark despite the time. Only one porthole is not covered by a veil.

"I cannot concentrate when there is too much light," Aomine says, not breaking his concentration from whatever he is writing.

"Oh," he says, and closes the door behind him. "Where shall I place the Kaptan's soup?"

Aomine taps the flat surface of his table, the only space that is not cluttered with maps and letters.

He sets the bowl of soup down, careful not to let it spill over the table. When he is done, he bows. He does not mean it; it is more of a force of habit. Nonetheless, it causes Aomine to lift his head and look at him.

"I shall bring your main meal when you are done, Kaptan." By that, he means when Aomine rings the bell. Only the galley and Aomine have specific bells for meals. All the crewmates must get their own whilst the Kaptan gets to be served as he rarely eats with them. They say he is too occupied with his work.

Aomine exudes darkness. The warmth he had displayed has vanished. Mayhaps Tetsuya's ignorance has ruffled his feathers.

I have to do something.

"You have changed into a dark coat, I see. It suits the Kaptan's eyes. The golden sash brings out the colour of your skin." And it is true. He has not mentioned everything for he does not want to swamp Aomine with compliments. His intention may come across as deceptive.

Aomine sets down his reed stylus. "What do you want?"

Tetsuya casts his gaze downward, his head hanging between his shoulders. "I...My pardons. I sincerely apologise for not being aware." Oddly, a part of him means it.

"I see," Aomine says, taking a glance at him before returning his attention to his newly created map.

When he deduces that he is not needed and his scheme has not worked, Tetsuya dips his head and says he is leaving him be. One cannot force someone to adore them. If he has to do it slowly for many years, so be it.

Before he can turn around, Aomine raises his hand, still not looking at him. "Stay there." He stands up and goes to a wardrobe that occupies half the wall area. With one gentle shove, the wardrobe opens, groaning and creaking.

"Change into these." Aomine throws a bundle, and Tetsuya catches it swiftly. A glint in Aomine's eyes tells him the captain expected no less. "If you are going to work with me, at least dress comfortably."

Tetsuya bites down on a remark as he bows once more. "I shall change in my assigned cabin, then."

"Change here," Aomine says flatly. "Your chamber is too far, and you must be in the galley soon." 

No, he wants to say, but that will do him no good. Aomine's temper is currently unpredictable, so he ought to play his tune.

He is given a white shirt and black trousers that are quite too big for him. Never mind, then. He shall use the black belt he is wearing now. It is long enough to snugly fit over his stomach. Aomine generously gave him a pair of white socks too.

"Oh, the boots. I almost forgot..." The captain rummages through the wardrobe again. When he is done, he has boots in his hands and then places them atop the bundle. Maybe it is unintentionally done, but their fingers brush against each other before Aomine removes his hand.

"My sincere thanks, Kaptan. Oh... " he stammers, unable to find the right words to tell Aomine to at least turn around.

The captain shakes his head. "Such modesty. We are both men, are we not? Fine, then. I will turn my back. Pretend that I am not here."

He swallows his protest. To be fair, it would be ridiculous if the captain left his own room. Tetsuya tells himself that this is nothing and if humiliation is one of the things he has to endure again, so be it.

Tetsuya undoes his smock and his inner garments. His old trousers come next, and they fall easily. Quickly, he takes the new trousers and shoves them up to his waist, securing them with a belt. Next, the shirt. To his dismay, the buttons are at the back. He hasn't seen a shirt with buttons in years, but he knows they should be at least stitched on the front. "What in the name of the six gods is this?" he mutters. It's a good thing it's big enough for him to button it and put it on.

"Let me help," Aomine says.

"Kaptan there's—" He stops as Aomine's silence tells him he is not someone who takes a 'no' for an answer. Slow, steady progress, much like our journey to Kawa. "I understand," he says, meekly.

Aomine stands behind him. "Wear it," he commands, his breath touching Tetsuya's ear. It must have been the weather of the sea, he tells himself, as his insides shiver. Tetsuya pushes his hands through the armholes, and before he knows it, he is already donned in the white shirt, save for the buttons.

This is fine... He consoles himself when the image of Akashi flashes through his mind.

Aomine holds Tetsuya's hair and lays the bunch on his left shoulder. The motion is slow, almost deliberate, as though the captain wants to know how soft his skin is. The air is warm and thick, and the only sounds are their breathing and the gentle hum of the sea.

Tetsuya supports both of their weights by clamping his hands on the wall, aware of how Aomine's fingers hover above his bare back.

Unwarranted memories of his former handler come back to him. Aiya may have been a woman, but she was ruthless. Her touches were rough. She would leave scratches and bruises, especially on the places where the fabrics couldn't cover them. It took much persuasion before he confessed everything to Akashi.

The next day, they had a new handler. The next night, they found Aiya's body floating in the well.

And there was also his mentor, who had taught him all the things he had to learn...

His Highness shall not know this, he prays, closing his eyes. He does not want it. The only person who can see him like this is too far away from him. He feels sick. But what rights does he have? It is not as though he was ever meant to be wed. What he has is a foolish dream.

Remembering his promise to Ogiwara, and his oath to Akashi, Tetsuya accepts that he must be touched like so if he desires his wishes to come true.

"It's fine. Do not worry, I'm only trying to help you." Tetsuya opens his eyes. He whips his head to Aka—Aomine's direction. "I'm sorry. I should have asked for your permission. Here." To his confusion, the captain offers him a rosy handkerchief. "For your tears."

Tetsuya blinks, and then droplets drip down to the floor. I...I was crying? "My pardons. I do not know what has come to me." Wiping his tears away, he asks himself what has possessed him to show too much vulnerability to his victim. Was he subconsciously manipulating him?

No...no matter how hard he tries, he has been holding on for so long. He is far from his homeland. He does not know if his brother is in good condition. He worries about Akashi, and his talk with Aomine has reminded him of how unloved he was by his own family. And the person whom he has to deceive has touched him. He has not fully started yet, but he already feels remorse for what he is about to do. He wishes it had not come to this, but some things must be done.

For Ogiwara. For himself. For Akashi.

"I truly am sorry," he repeats, drying his tears away. Mayhaps he is apologising for crying. Mayhaps he is apologising for being a deceiver. It is hard to tell.

"There's no need. I'm the one who's supposed to say that." Aomine clears his throat and focuses on the wall. When he is done feigning as if there is no boy shedding tears before him, he continues, "Would you like me to continue? I promise I will do my best not to touch you."

I have no choice, Tetsuya mentally pushes that thought down his throat again and again. He will do it thousands of times if he has to. He shall not let guilt and any other emotions cease his progress. "Yes, please."

Slowly, carefully, Aomine comes closer. When his hands go back to buttoning, they are quick and precise. His knuckles do not brush against his skin, unlike moments before.

They stay in that position even after the captain is done. Neither knows how to diminish the uncomfortable situation between them. Until Aomine breaks the silence. "I'm really sorry. I was searching for a scar, for ink, for any clues to who you are."

As an assassin, he understands Aomine's reason. As a person before anything else, the fear and disgust are still there. "I acknowledge that. After all, I am a Dancer who wields blades and easily thins out enemies." He faces the captain; his tears, thankfully, are dry now. "I will tell you no lies from now on."

Aomine nods, stepping back. "Then, why don't you begin? Who are you, Kuroko Tetsuya?"