Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ A Star to Steer By ❯ Chapter 5
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: KD Sarge 
Yohji finds a few answers and more questions.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.19.2006 | Updated On: 02.19.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 708 | Status: Work In Progress
Yohji finds a few answers and more questions.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.19.2006 | Updated On: 02.19.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 708 | Status: Work In Progress
For the chibi, ‘cause we love her. And because her super-chibi form is frightening.
******
Assuming that an unknown sail would keep the pirates busy a while, Yohji made good use of his time alone in the captain’s cabin. He burned the letter from his mother, and everything else he could find that could have identified him for ransom. Including his ascot. He found a packet of pins amid the plunder, and dumped them in the settee. He found a stash of treasure and picked out a few small, valuable, easily-hidden pieces that hopefully would not be missed, and put them in his boot with his father’s signet ring. He located the captain’s logbook, and discovered that it was kept by Ran Fujimiya, secretary to the captain.
Secretary? What the hell pirate kept a secretary?
He easily found the place where the writing changed, and shortly before that read first mate John Barton recording the return of Captain Stairs from a visit with his factor—factor?—trailing a pretty redheaded “piece” who stabbed two men and broke another’s hand his first night aboard.
That was his Ran, all right.
His? Hmm, wouldn’t mind...
Well, at least he’d established that one pirate did not come from a pirate mommy. Fujimiya, Fujimiya—Yohji had a nagging suspicion he should know that name.
Now he knew when Ran came aboard, if not why. This captain kept a secretary—okay, so it was likely just an excuse to keep Ran near, but still—a secretary and a factor? Who knew pirates took business so seriously? The factor was in London, another surprise. One would expect Stairs to connect his legal and illegal concerns in a less lawful place. Jamaica, for instance. He’d heard Jamaica was paradise in this lifetime. Especially Port Royal. The Sodom of the New World, they called Port Royal.
Soft but fast footsteps pulled him out of the logbook, a barefoot sailor was coming. Yohji put the logbook back, stuck Moliere in his shirt and grabbed the wine, your typical idiot lordling enjoying the atmosphere.
Oh, shit, Morton that Ran had just clobbered. The man grinned.
“All alone, are we? Captain wondered if you’d got lost.”
“Just wanted some wine in peace. I hear there’s a sail?”
“Aye, there’s a sail, you scrawny git.” Scrawny? Just because he wasn’t built like a chamber pot, short, fat and full of shit... “Tis a King’s ship, and who might they be hunting, do you suppose?”
“You think they care about me?”
“Why else would they be here?” With a bound Morton grabbed Yohji’s hair, held a blade to his neck. “Red’s busy, so it’s my turn. Come along.”
“If I refuse, are you fool enough to get blood all over the captain’s cabin?”
Morton hesitated, scratched his cheek with the knife while he thought. Yohji sighed at being held captive by idiots, and smashed a book into the stupid bastard’s face, bashed him again, and whanged him with the nearest heavy object for good measure. Fortunately the spittoon was empty.
Yohji whanged the bastard one more time for being ugly, and went on deck.
Ran and the captain were on the stern deck, Ran at the wheel while the captain peered through a brass telescope. Was it his imagination, or did Ran almost sort of start to smile a tiny bit when he saw Yohji?
Imagination. Had to be.
Yohji paused at the top of the ladder onto the raised deck, eyed the distance from the helm to the foredeck. Then he grinned at Ran.
“Recognized my crest, you said?”
“Hn,” the redhead grunted as the captain lowered the telescope.
“That's some eye you've got there.”
“Hn.”
“Want a peek, lad?” Stairs asked, just like he hadn’t been going to do...whatever he’d been about to do, before the sail was spotted. Well, if he wanted to play it that way...Yohji took the telescope, let the captain help him, and ignored the bad breath.
It was a King’s ship. A frigate, small and fast...
“Will it catch us?”
“No,” Ran answered, darting a glare at Stairs that made him chuckle. “She could, but her captain knows we outgun her. They will not catch us.”
“Aye, but maybe we will catch them, eh, lad?” Stairs clapped Ran’s shoulder, and laughed again when the redhead stiffened at his touch. “Love to watch you with your sword, me boy.”
To kill King’s men...Yohji tried to catch the redhead's eye, but he was quickly learning that avoidance was a skill Ran had cultivated to a fine and extreme degree.
“You have a problem with that—Kudou, was it?”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Yohji answered, since he’d asked. “Why risk a fight when you’ve nothing to gain? They don’t have treasure, they live worse than you do.”
“Oh, now, and isn’t he the bright one?” Stairs asked, trying to share amusement with Ran and getting ignored. “Nothing to gain, did he say, Ran-love?” Emphasizing with an elbow. “What’s that ship worth to us, eh?”
“Sails,” Ran answered, his eyes on the last sliver of sun and his voice distant. “Ammunition. Fresh water. Food.”
“Books,” Stairs said with a squeeze to Ran’s shoulder. “Maybe a minstrel, eh? This time we’ll keep the Farf off him.”
Minstrel? “You like music?”
Ran darted a glare before setting his eyes back on the horizon. Stairs laughed.
“Eh, yes, our lovely lad likes music!” The bastard was winking at him. “Mighty torn up he was, when Farf played with that singer boy.”
“Not as much as that singer boy,” Ran said softly.
If that was Ran’s sense of humor, Yohji could do without it. Unfortunately he didn’t think it was a joke, though Stairs roared laughter and slapped the redhead on the back.
A pirate approached, shared out hardtack and rum. Yohji pretended to eat the rock-hard substance, since he didn’t want to break his teeth and he didn’t want to hear about being too good to eat what they ate. Then he saw Ran was soaking his hardtack in his mug, so he did the same and got some dinner. Not long after that, Stairs dismissed Ran with a grin and a leer. “Need you rested in the morning, lad, so I guess you’ll need some time, eh?” He slapped Yohji’s ass as he followed Ran. “Sleep well, boys!”
Yohji, though, had learned enough to expect what happened. Ran ignored him even once they were alone, and slipped off his shirt and crawled into the bottom bunk. He sat up to glare, though, when Yohji started clearing the books off the top one.
“Where do you think you’re going to put those?”
“Umm...the desk?”
“If there’s a swell in the night, they’ll fall.”
“The floor?”
“Not my books.”
“Fine.” Yohji put the books back—slipping the Moliere in with them—and took his own shirt off. Then he carefully took his boots off without losing anything hidden in them, and put them between the desk and the bed where they hopefully wouldn’t fall. Then he crawled through the frame of the bunk to lie between Ran and the wall.
“What in hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t panic,” Yohji growled, turning his back on the glare, “I’m way too tired to rape you, or whatever the hell you think I’m doing. I just want this day to end.”
“You think today was bad...” Ran muttered, but he settled back to the wafer-thin mattress.
“Ran?” Yohji asked after a while.
“Hn.”
“Why are you here? You’re not like them.”
“Go to sleep, Kudou. And you’d better not snore.”
“Same to you, Fujimiya.”
Silence. Then, “Kudou! How the hell did you know my name?”
“In this world, it pays a man to know his...superiors,” Yohji answered, in exactly the tones Ran had said it earlier. The redhead chuckled. Yohji jerked up to see it, but Ran’s face was turned away.
“Lie down,” his bedmate snarled, “or I’ll toss you to Farf. He doesn’t need to sleep.”
Yohji lay down. And after a few minutes of wondering, he asked.
“What do you mean he doesn’t need to sleep?”
“I mean after I stab you for talking, he’ll be stabbing you for fun, if you don’t shut up and go to sleep right now, Kudou!”
“Fine.” Yohji sighed and finally relaxed, and not even having that pretty ass pressed to his—the bunk was very narrow—not even that could keep him awake much longer.
Today he’d been beaten and fought over and mauled and threatened and attacked and groped and robbed.
Tomorrow had to be better.
******
Assuming that an unknown sail would keep the pirates busy a while, Yohji made good use of his time alone in the captain’s cabin. He burned the letter from his mother, and everything else he could find that could have identified him for ransom. Including his ascot. He found a packet of pins amid the plunder, and dumped them in the settee. He found a stash of treasure and picked out a few small, valuable, easily-hidden pieces that hopefully would not be missed, and put them in his boot with his father’s signet ring. He located the captain’s logbook, and discovered that it was kept by Ran Fujimiya, secretary to the captain.
Secretary? What the hell pirate kept a secretary?
He easily found the place where the writing changed, and shortly before that read first mate John Barton recording the return of Captain Stairs from a visit with his factor—factor?—trailing a pretty redheaded “piece” who stabbed two men and broke another’s hand his first night aboard.
That was his Ran, all right.
His? Hmm, wouldn’t mind...
Well, at least he’d established that one pirate did not come from a pirate mommy. Fujimiya, Fujimiya—Yohji had a nagging suspicion he should know that name.
Now he knew when Ran came aboard, if not why. This captain kept a secretary—okay, so it was likely just an excuse to keep Ran near, but still—a secretary and a factor? Who knew pirates took business so seriously? The factor was in London, another surprise. One would expect Stairs to connect his legal and illegal concerns in a less lawful place. Jamaica, for instance. He’d heard Jamaica was paradise in this lifetime. Especially Port Royal. The Sodom of the New World, they called Port Royal.
Soft but fast footsteps pulled him out of the logbook, a barefoot sailor was coming. Yohji put the logbook back, stuck Moliere in his shirt and grabbed the wine, your typical idiot lordling enjoying the atmosphere.
Oh, shit, Morton that Ran had just clobbered. The man grinned.
“All alone, are we? Captain wondered if you’d got lost.”
“Just wanted some wine in peace. I hear there’s a sail?”
“Aye, there’s a sail, you scrawny git.” Scrawny? Just because he wasn’t built like a chamber pot, short, fat and full of shit... “Tis a King’s ship, and who might they be hunting, do you suppose?”
“You think they care about me?”
“Why else would they be here?” With a bound Morton grabbed Yohji’s hair, held a blade to his neck. “Red’s busy, so it’s my turn. Come along.”
“If I refuse, are you fool enough to get blood all over the captain’s cabin?”
Morton hesitated, scratched his cheek with the knife while he thought. Yohji sighed at being held captive by idiots, and smashed a book into the stupid bastard’s face, bashed him again, and whanged him with the nearest heavy object for good measure. Fortunately the spittoon was empty.
Yohji whanged the bastard one more time for being ugly, and went on deck.
Ran and the captain were on the stern deck, Ran at the wheel while the captain peered through a brass telescope. Was it his imagination, or did Ran almost sort of start to smile a tiny bit when he saw Yohji?
Imagination. Had to be.
Yohji paused at the top of the ladder onto the raised deck, eyed the distance from the helm to the foredeck. Then he grinned at Ran.
“Recognized my crest, you said?”
“Hn,” the redhead grunted as the captain lowered the telescope.
“That's some eye you've got there.”
“Hn.”
“Want a peek, lad?” Stairs asked, just like he hadn’t been going to do...whatever he’d been about to do, before the sail was spotted. Well, if he wanted to play it that way...Yohji took the telescope, let the captain help him, and ignored the bad breath.
It was a King’s ship. A frigate, small and fast...
“Will it catch us?”
“No,” Ran answered, darting a glare at Stairs that made him chuckle. “She could, but her captain knows we outgun her. They will not catch us.”
“Aye, but maybe we will catch them, eh, lad?” Stairs clapped Ran’s shoulder, and laughed again when the redhead stiffened at his touch. “Love to watch you with your sword, me boy.”
To kill King’s men...Yohji tried to catch the redhead's eye, but he was quickly learning that avoidance was a skill Ran had cultivated to a fine and extreme degree.
“You have a problem with that—Kudou, was it?”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Yohji answered, since he’d asked. “Why risk a fight when you’ve nothing to gain? They don’t have treasure, they live worse than you do.”
“Oh, now, and isn’t he the bright one?” Stairs asked, trying to share amusement with Ran and getting ignored. “Nothing to gain, did he say, Ran-love?” Emphasizing with an elbow. “What’s that ship worth to us, eh?”
“Sails,” Ran answered, his eyes on the last sliver of sun and his voice distant. “Ammunition. Fresh water. Food.”
“Books,” Stairs said with a squeeze to Ran’s shoulder. “Maybe a minstrel, eh? This time we’ll keep the Farf off him.”
Minstrel? “You like music?”
Ran darted a glare before setting his eyes back on the horizon. Stairs laughed.
“Eh, yes, our lovely lad likes music!” The bastard was winking at him. “Mighty torn up he was, when Farf played with that singer boy.”
“Not as much as that singer boy,” Ran said softly.
If that was Ran’s sense of humor, Yohji could do without it. Unfortunately he didn’t think it was a joke, though Stairs roared laughter and slapped the redhead on the back.
A pirate approached, shared out hardtack and rum. Yohji pretended to eat the rock-hard substance, since he didn’t want to break his teeth and he didn’t want to hear about being too good to eat what they ate. Then he saw Ran was soaking his hardtack in his mug, so he did the same and got some dinner. Not long after that, Stairs dismissed Ran with a grin and a leer. “Need you rested in the morning, lad, so I guess you’ll need some time, eh?” He slapped Yohji’s ass as he followed Ran. “Sleep well, boys!”
Yohji, though, had learned enough to expect what happened. Ran ignored him even once they were alone, and slipped off his shirt and crawled into the bottom bunk. He sat up to glare, though, when Yohji started clearing the books off the top one.
“Where do you think you’re going to put those?”
“Umm...the desk?”
“If there’s a swell in the night, they’ll fall.”
“The floor?”
“Not my books.”
“Fine.” Yohji put the books back—slipping the Moliere in with them—and took his own shirt off. Then he carefully took his boots off without losing anything hidden in them, and put them between the desk and the bed where they hopefully wouldn’t fall. Then he crawled through the frame of the bunk to lie between Ran and the wall.
“What in hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t panic,” Yohji growled, turning his back on the glare, “I’m way too tired to rape you, or whatever the hell you think I’m doing. I just want this day to end.”
“You think today was bad...” Ran muttered, but he settled back to the wafer-thin mattress.
“Ran?” Yohji asked after a while.
“Hn.”
“Why are you here? You’re not like them.”
“Go to sleep, Kudou. And you’d better not snore.”
“Same to you, Fujimiya.”
Silence. Then, “Kudou! How the hell did you know my name?”
“In this world, it pays a man to know his...superiors,” Yohji answered, in exactly the tones Ran had said it earlier. The redhead chuckled. Yohji jerked up to see it, but Ran’s face was turned away.
“Lie down,” his bedmate snarled, “or I’ll toss you to Farf. He doesn’t need to sleep.”
Yohji lay down. And after a few minutes of wondering, he asked.
“What do you mean he doesn’t need to sleep?”
“I mean after I stab you for talking, he’ll be stabbing you for fun, if you don’t shut up and go to sleep right now, Kudou!”
“Fine.” Yohji sighed and finally relaxed, and not even having that pretty ass pressed to his—the bunk was very narrow—not even that could keep him awake much longer.
Today he’d been beaten and fought over and mauled and threatened and attacked and groped and robbed.
Tomorrow had to be better.