Chapter Text
The first few days of winter brought heavy winds and overcast skies. They were fifteen.
The cold air bit at Yeosang’s skin, and it was all he could do not to curse out loud as he drew his coat tighter around himself. He cast a cursory glance towards Wooyoung next to him, who met his gaze with a smile.
“It’s so cold,” Yeosang muttered, looking back down at his feet. “I don’t know why they still think letting us out for recess during winter time is okay. We freeze to death every time.”
Wooyoung let out a laugh. “I would’ve thought that being in the orphanage for as long we have would’ve let you get used to cold recesses, but clearly not. You could always stay inside.”
“And I would be doing that,” Yeosang countered, pouting slightly, “but they just decided that today of all days they would renovate.”
“Lighten up.” Wooyoung playfully nudged Yeosang’s shoulder with his own, and they both fell into stride, walking along the footpath. “Let’s just walk around for a little bit more, then we’ll go back inside. Okay?”
Yeosang managed a nod.
They sauntered around the beach as Yeosang complained about the cold wind, Wooyoung making sure to rebut him with a witty remark every time. Yeosang was in the process of kicking the air to get the sand out of his shoes when Wooyoung stilled beside him.
He glanced up, finding Wooyoung looking at the harbour some hundred feet away from them. “What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked.
“Do you see that?”
“See what?”
When Wooyoung raised a hand to point, Yeosang initially thought he was pointing directly at the harbour, but as he looked more closely, he found that he was pointing somewhere a little beyond it. “That ship,” Wooyoung said.
“There are a lot of ships.”
Wooyoung scoffed, and before Yeosang could even take another breath, Wooyoung had seized Yeosang’s wrist and began tugging him forward, towards the dock.
“Hey,” Yeosang managed to say through short bursts of breath. He found it hard for his feet to keep up with Wooyoung’s fast pace, especially now that the wind had picked up since they were closer to the sea. “Wooyoung, wait… Aren’t we supposed to go back now?”
Wooyoung didn’t even bother with a glance back as he continued to drag Yeosang towards the harbour. Yeosang couldn’t help but shiver when a particular gust of wind slammed into him, picking up the salty smell of the sea with it. He thought he would have collapsed onto the ground if it weren’t for Wooyoung still holding his hand.
Soon enough their footfalls became louder as their feet found the hard wood of the piers. Wooyoung manoeuvred them both around the dockers that were lingering around. Yeosang just l barely managed to dodge a hole in the wooden floorboard by adding a jump to his gait.
“Wooyoung, where are we going?” Yeosang breathed, just barely able to hear himself over the roaring wind.
“Here!” Wooyoung chirped, and Yeosang nearly doubled over on his knees from how hard he’d skidded to a halt.
Yeosang looked around after he caught his breath. They were standing on the other side of the dock, where another part of the beach extended, and in front of them, several yards away on the water was a vessel. It was smaller than the other ships at the dock behind them, but large nonetheless.
“I think that’s a pirate ship,” Wooyoung whispered, as though fearful that they were going to be overheard. “That looks like a pirate ship…”
Yeosang did his best not to squirm on the spot, detaching his hand from Wooyoung’s to shove them both in his pockets. “Wooyoung, we’re going to get in trouble,” he said, voice coming out in a murmur.
Wooyoung didn’t seem to heed his words. “Yeosangie, we should explore.”
Yeosang felt his stomach sink to his feet. “Are you crazy? Wooyoung, we’ll be in so much trouble if we’re gone past curfew—”
But Wooyoung only grabbed Yeosang’s arm again, tugging him forward as they made their way closer to the vessel. “Yeosang, it’s okay. We’ll just check this out and then we’ll leave.”
Yeosang swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat. The ship looked even more daunting up close, and it didn’t help that his anxiety wasn’t going away, even when he tried his best to shove it down. He said, “Wooyoung, Kiyoung won’t be happy when she finds us back late—we’ll be in so much trouble…”
Wooyoung only rolled his eyes. “Stop being so scared. We’ll be fine, we’ll just check out the ship and go back.”
The casualness in Wooyoung’s tone did nothing to alleviate the anxiety throbbing in Yeosang’s chest. He did his best to manage a nod before he trailed behind Wooyoung, watching him more than the actual vessel.
“Wooyoung, are you done yet?” When Wooyoung didn’t give him a response, Yeosang tried again. “You can’t see anything from here, Wooyoung. Let’s just go back.”
“Hm.”
Yeosang clenched his fists in his pocket before he took one out to tug at Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Wooyoung, Kiyoung is going to kill us. Let’s go back, please…”
After what felt like an eternity compressed into a single moment, Wooyoung turned around, and there was a small smile on his face. That was, until it was wiped off completely.
Wooyoung’s hand shot out to grab Yeosang’s wrist. There was no doubting the panic that crossed his face. “Yeosang—”
Yeosang only had another second to blink before he felt the impact on the back of his head. In one moment Wooyoung’s face in front of him, but before he knew it had really even happened, it was replaced with darkness.
***
Yeosang blinked blearily, the voices just a gentle caress to his ear drums.
“You brought two… teenagers? And for what?”
“They looked hostile…”
“And you just brought them over? Didn’t bother to kill them on the spot?”
A different voice. “We could kill ‘em now, cap’n, if you’d like…”
And then a sigh. “You’re both fucking useless. What the hell am I supposed to do with two teenagers on my ship? Couldn’t you have told me before we set sail? We could’ve left them but you just had to—”
Something cold settled inside Yeosang’s stomach, and he knew it had nothing to do with the cold air around him.
“Oh, would you look at that?” A chuckle. “One of them’s awake.”
As if summoned, Yeosang snapped his eyes open, where his gaze found three tall, stocky men behind a row of metal bars.
The tallest of the three, a man bedecked in several earrings and rings and necklaces, spoke first. “Who are you?” he asked.
Yeosang couldn’t respond, even if he wanted to. He shakily looked to the side, where he saw Wooyoung’s limp form lying down on the floor next to him, several feet away. He wasn’t facing him, so he had no way of knowing whether he was unconscious, but he guessed quick enough that he was.
“Who are you?” repeated another man.
Yeosang started at the repetition, biting back a groan when he felt a sudden throb at the back of his head. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, whispering, “Orphans…”
The tallest man suddenly laughed, deep and loud that it reverberated in Yeosang’s chest. Nothing about the sound was mirthful; if anything, it sounded the opposite.
Yeosang took that as the opportunity to assess his surroundings. He and Wooyoung were in a dank room that had a singular bed pushed to one corner, all walls coloured a murky brown. What should have been another wall opposite Yeosang was instead metal bars, and when he looked a little closer, he saw a padlock on the other side of the bars, no doubt some form of a door. He was in a brig.
“You brought me fucking orphans!” the man boomed, and Yeosang startled. But the fear he felt was seemingly nothing compared to the two other men, who cowered where they stood. “Measly little orphans that don’t need to be on a fucking pirate ship!”
Yeosang’s hands shook at his sides, and the throbbing in his head seemed to worsen as the seconds went on. He clenched his eyes shut, only to realise that did nothing to solve anything.
He heard it, the sound of the sea around them. Then felt the rocking beneath them. He could barely hold down his panic now. They had left the shore.
“Stupid fuckin’ morons,” muttered the man with the jewellery. “Absolutely useless. Get out.”
The two men complied obediently, scurrying off elsewhere where Yeosang couldn’t see them. He glanced to his side, noticing Wooyoung shifting, his eyes fluttering open.
The tall man looked at both of them. Yeosang couldn’t tell what he could have felt. Nothing like happiness shone on his face, but not derision either, not even a grain of it. Without saying anything else, the man left. He shut some other door on the way, and the sound clanged through Yeosang’s chest.
“Yeosang?” Wooyoung said.
“What,” Yeosang breathed. He felt hollow. With dread, fear, or sadness, he didn’t know.
“Hey, look at me,” Wooyoung whispered, putting both hands on Yeosang’s cheeks, effectively cradling his head. “Yeosang, look at me.”
Yeosang tried to. He really did, but it was hard with the tears blocking his vision, whatever object in front of him being reduced to nothing but smudged hues. He felt his throat close up as another hiccup seized his chest. “Wooyoung, we’re going to die…”
“No, don’t say that,” Wooyoung chastised, pulling Yeosang in again. He rubbed his hand up and down Yeosang’s spine, making Yeosang bury his face in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck. “Yeosang, I’m scared too, but we have to be brave, okay? This will pass. You hear me? This will pass, Yeosang. We have to be strong. We have to trust. What did Kiyoung tell us, just a day ago?”
Yeosang remembered. Even in the face of his anxiety and panic, he could hear the words loud and clear in his head. “The Lord never denies any of your prayers. Just answers them differently. Children, you should trust in God’s timing.”
It was so hard to breathe, so hard to try and properly comprehend the words—it was all too much. He felt as though his lungs would give out on him any second now, except there was the uncertainty of when it would happen. Uncertainty all around, blanketing him ominously like a prowling monster.
Yeosang hiccuped again, louder, and Wooyoung held him tighter. There was a certain warmth that came with Wooyoung’s body, and Yeosang was grateful for it, in the wake of the biting cold around them.
Overwhelming was an understatement. He tried to assure himself as Wooyoung was doing the same, that they’d be okay. That they could be strong, and brave. He tried to conjure a sense of hope, hope that they could go back. Praying for an opportunity to return, praying for normalcy that he knew, somewhere in the back of his head, would never come.
***
When Wooyoung and Yeosang stepped out onto the deck, both their gut instincts were to wrap their arms around themselves. Despite the sun blazing above them, it was much colder out at sea.
Yeosang could see the men of the crew working hard, moving crates and barrels about the deck and towards the forecastle, tying ropes and climbing up them at the same time. He heard the chatter amongst them, and nearly shivered hearing their voices. He was scared by everyone here knowing that they could overpower him in every way possible, and he could tell that Wooyoung was, too.
It had to take a man coming up to them to snap him out of his stupor. “Hey,” said the man, clicking two thick fingers in front of both their faces.
The man was tall, way taller than the both of them with a rugged beard and breath that was gag-inducing. He had a rather noticeable diagonal scar on his neck. Yeosang had to hold his breath.
“Has the captain given you lot any work to do?” he asked. Spit went flying with every syllable that came out of his mouth and it was all Yeosang could do not to vomit on the spot.
He shook his head in response to the question. Wooyoung merely stood there.
The man hummed to himself in acknowledgement. “Right. Well, you—,” he gestured to Yeosang, “—can carry these crates over to the galley. They’ve got foodstuffs in it, be careful wit’ ‘em.”
Yeosang nodded and went over to carry the crate. It was heavy, and he was suddenly struck with the fear that he’d drop them on his toes. With strain, he carried it over to where the man pointed at two large double doors flanked by a set of stairs that led up to the forecastle at the opposite end of the deck, which he suspected led to the galleys. In the distance, he heard the man give instructions to Wooyoung.
As he made his way down the ship, Yeosang closely inspected his surroundings. The ship was only halfway decent, a lot less underwhelming seeing it in this sunlight, though he guessed not every ship could look as grand as the ones he’d seen in books. The deck wasn’t as spacious as he thought it would be, but for the size of the crew, it seemed to work.
At the doors of the galley he met another man, who directed him to where he was to put the crate. Yeosang passed a multitude of people on his way to his final destination, all of which gave him looks that made his skin crawl. Unease flared in his gut the more he walked across the ship, and he was unsure how to combat it.
He was just about to put down the crate on the ground, he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Don’t touch him.” It was Wooyoung.
Yeosang snapped his head to the side, where from his peripheral vision he saw a looming shadow. He moved to see more, where he saw Wooyoung standing behind a man.
“Who do yew think yer talking to?” said the man behind Yeosang. Instinctively, Yeosang moved farther away, knowing that the man had wanted to touch him.
“I said don’t touch him,” Wooyoung argued. He had a hard look on his face, but even from the awkward angle Yeosang could tell he was barely holding it together. The look in his eyes said it all.
“Who’re yew to tell me what to do, kid?” Then the man turned on Wooyoung then, and before either of them saw it coming, the man struck Wooyoung across the face, sending him to the ground.
Yeosang let out a cry at the sound of Wooyoung falling to the ground, but before he could do more than think about running over to him, the sound of loud footfalls caught his attention. One of the guards from last night came running over.
“Hyungsik? What are you doing?” said the man, pulling up Wooyoung to his feet by grabbing his upper arm. Wooyoung staggered to a halt, dizzy. “Leave them alone. Go to the captain. He wants to see you.”
The man that had hit Wooyoung let out a huff of a laugh and left towards the companionway, but not before sending both Yeosang and Wooyoung a suspicious look that made Yeosang’s bladder feel loose.
The guard eyed both the boys with pity. He paid close attention to Wooyoung, noticing that he’d been the one attacked. “Hm, you’ll be fine,” he said, inspecting Wooyoung’s face. “I’ll send you back to the brig and you lot can stay there until someone actually comes and gives you work. Dunno what Kyungmo was thinking, sending you out so early…”
So Yeosang and Wooyoung followed the guard back to the brig, both boys trailing closely behind the guard, lest another one of the crew members decided to pounce on them again.
The guard shut the doors to the brig once they were inside, nodding at them both in acknowledgement. Yeosang took one brief look at the floor before he called out, “Erm. Sir.”
The guard stopped to look at Yeosang, a questioning look on his face. Yeosang was so surprised by the fact that the guard had even bothered to consider listening to him that he was silent for a few seconds. Gathering up the grit, he said, “Could I get a… erm, cloth? For Wooyoung. A wet one, possibly.”
The man only blinked before he turned his head to the side. Without another word or form of acknowledgement, he left. Yeosang’s shoulders deflated.
“I hate it here,” said Wooyoung, snapping Yeosang out of it.
Yeosang turned to face Wooyoung, who was sitting on the ground, a sullen look on his face as he hugged his knees. Yeosang knelt down beside him and had to bite back a gasp at what he saw on Wooyoung’s face. There was a cut on the apex of Wooyoung’s cheekbone, right where the man had punched him. Yeosang tried to tilt Wooyoung’s head to get a better look at it, but Wooyoung quickly flinched away at the sight of Yeosang’s hand coming closer.
A squelch and the sound of something clunking onto the ground from the side made Yeosang’s head turn sharply. There was a wet rag on the floor and right beside it a tin cup with water in it, and at the door was the shadow of a man. Without thinking twice, Yeosang crawled over and grabbed the items given to him.
The water was cold, the rag even colder. Wooyoung eyed the items with disgust.
Yeosang sighed. “Do you want to get an infection?”
Wooyoung didn’t say anything in response to that, but he didn’t show any form of resistance either. He let Yeosang come closer to him and gently press the rag against the cut. Wooyoung let out a hiss, but let Yeosang do the job.
“Not that smart of you to get involved with the crew members when we’ve only been here for less than a day, Wooyoung,” Yeosang said quietly. The only other sounds in the brig was the dripping of the water from the rag that fell onto the floor and the sound of the calm sea beneath them.
Yeosang dipped the rag in the water again and gently pressed it back against Wooyoung’s cheek, ignoring the latter’s hisses of complaining. “You really should be careful, Wooyoung. Do you know what could have happened? Do you know how much worse this could have been?” he asked softly.
“He was going to touch you. What else was I supposed to do?”
“You didn’t have to provoke him like that.”
“Still. He could’ve hurt you. I saw the look on his face.”
“Again. Didn’t have to provoke him.”
Wooyoung merely grunted in response, no doubt regretful of his actions but certainly heeding Yeosang’s words. Yeosang sighed and brought the rag down so that his hand was in his lap.
He held Wooyoung’s chin with his fingers as he angled Wooyoung’s head so that he could properly inspect the damage, leaning in the slightest. Wooyoung’s cheek was swollen around the small cut on the rise of his cheekbone. The wound was fresh, but Yeosang suspected that afterwards it would be bruised and purple for a while. He couldn’t tell if it was fractured or not, but he hoped that wasn’t the case.
“Can you move your jaw?” Yeosang asked.
Wooyoung’s eyes shot to Yeosang’s and he nodded sullenly. “But it hurts.”
“Can you see? How’s your right eye?”
“Fine.”
Yeosang let a sigh leave his lips as he let go of Wooyoung’s chin. “It’ll leave a mark for a while, I think. That man wasn’t entirely gentle, I suppose?”
“Sure fucking wasn’t,” Wooyoung bit back.
Yeosang tutted as he put the rag on the floor next to him. “Don’t swear,” he chastised, unperturbed by the way Wooyoung shot him a glare. “You’re rightfully enraged, I’m aware, but please stay calm, Wooyoung. I don’t want you to get hurt like this again.”
Wooyoung pouted and drew his arms tighter around his knees. When Yeosang assessed his face closer, he saw the unshed tears at his waterline.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Wooyoung,” Yeosang apologised. He shuffled closer and gently pried Wooyoung’s arms away from where he held his knees in close, making him sit cross-legged with his arms by his side. “I’m still scared. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Wooyoung looked to the side, only giving Yeosang a view of half his face, but he still saw his lip quivering. Yeosang pressed his lips together in a line before he moved, gathering Wooyoung up in his arms so that he could hug him. He rested his chin on Wooyoung’s shoulder, and eventually felt Wooyoung’s arms wrap around his waist.
“We’re in a dangerous situation right now, and we don’t really know what’s going to happen to us,” Yeosang whispered, slightly adjusting so that he wasn’t uncomfortable, getting on his knees as his arms drew tighter around Wooyoung. “But the least we can do is pray. Pray and hope that we can get out of here safely. Wooyoung, believe me when I say that the last thing I want is for you to get hurt… or worse.”
Yeosang didn’t need to look at Wooyoung’s face to know that he was crying; he heard it well enough when he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a sob. He rubbed a hand up and down Wooyoung’s spine in the most comforting fashion he could produce, having to bite his lip to stop it from quivering. His heart swelled with an emotion he didn’t quite like.
“Wooyoung, please be careful,” Yeosang whispered, unable to stop the tears from falling. “It wasn’t your fault that we were kidnapped, I know that. You should know that. But we can at least try to protect ourselves, right? Even if it means participating in submission, even if it means we have to follow the rules of these pirates, we can’t lose ourselves, okay?” Yeosang closed his eyes. “I only have you, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung sobbed harder, fingers clutching onto the fabric of Yeosang’s shirt. “Please don’t leave me, Yeosang,” he said, voice riddled with a multitude of tremors. “I only have you, too.”
***
It was a rather uneventful period of time aboard the ship—which Yeosang eventually found out was dubbed The Mermaid’s Scorn—and neither of them made any new friends. All of the men were older and talked about older men things apart from the stuff related to the ship; nothing entirely that they could find any merit by listening to, unless it was advice on how to navigate puberty. No one particularly addressed them at all unless it was to carry out certain tasks, and Yeosang was firmly convinced the old buccaneers had as good as forgotten both of their names.
After a week of being out at sea, they stopped at land.
The man with the scar on his neck delegated Wooyoung and Yeosang with the task of buying new shoes for the crew members, seeing as somehow they had come to a shortage of them in their journey.
Upon hearing their task on the forecastle, Wooyoung gave Yeosang a hopeful look. Only once the man had departed from ear shot, Yeosang looked back at him. “What?” he asked, noticing the giddy expression Wooyoung was wearing.
“Goodness, Yeosang. Did you not hear what he said to us?” Wooyoung looked incredulous. Leaning in, he whispered, “We can finally escape.”
It took Yeosang a while to fully comprehend what Wooyoung had just told him. “What?”
“We can actually escape,” repeated Wooyoung, almost impatiently. “I doubt we actually mean anything to anyone on this ship. They’ve basically given us ample opportunity to run for our lives.”
And Wooyoung was right. The only reason Yeosang hadn’t thought of it earlier was because he was so focused on simply keeping him and Wooyoung safe, especially after the incident where the crewman had struck Wooyoung across the face. Any thoughts of going back and escaping was overridden by the instinct for survival.
“What if we get caught?” Yeosang asked. “What if they catch us trying to escape? Don’t you think we’ll get in trouble for that?”
“We’ll only get in trouble if we get caught.”
“Now, that’s not the mindset to have…”
Wooyoung huffed out a breath. “Yeosang, you cannot seriously deny possibly the only opportunity we have right now to be safe for once? Do you even understand where we are right now? On sea. Do you know where we’re about to be in an hour? Land. Land on which we can escape from this hell hole.”
Every doubt that Yeosang had about this seemed to be easily brushed away by the bouts of Wooyoung’s determination. Yeosang lifted his head, his gaze landing on the horizon before him. Eventually he knew he would see land. Again, the land on which they could escape.
Before he even knew it, the land they had both been anticipating was right before them, and the hour seemed as though it had marched on in the blink of an eye. Yeosang almost thought that the gangplank in front of him was a figment of his imagination.
“You know what you have to do right?” said the scarred man. Yeosang made sure to nod. “Very well, carry on. Shouldn’t take you too long to find shoes in Shanghai.”
With that information, Wooyoung tugged Yeosang towards to shore, almost a skip in his gait.
“We’ll head to the stands where they sell shoes first, then we’ll run for it, okay?” Wooyoung said. While he may have been determined, Yeosang could hear the slight tremble in his voice, almost as if he too was doubtful of this ploy to escape. He only nodded in response.
The scarred man was not wrong in that it wouldn’t be difficult to find shoes being sold, as Yeosang found numerous stands with shoes on display almost as soon as he stepped off the gangplank.
As they pretended to busy themselves at the stalls, Yeosang noticed Wooyoung looked around the area and scanning to see if there were any of the crewmen from Mermaid’s Scorn watching over them. He had to tug on Wooyoung’s sleeve whenever he found that he was being rather overt with his surveillance, which he came to find out was most of the time.
It was only after around ten minutes that Yeosang felt a tug on his own sleeve, where he noticed Wooyoung gazing at him hopefully, almost to an anxious extent. Having sensed what Wooyoung wanted of him, Yeosang followed Wooyoung to an alleyway they had identified a while prior.
Once they were certain that none of the crewmen they knew were within a recognisable distance of them, Wooyoung broke into a sprint, Yeosang following right after him.
Yeosang almost couldn’t pinpoint the adrenaline coursing through his veins, like he was imagining it. He almost didn’t believe that whatever he was doing at this moment right now with Wooyoung was even real. He couldn’t register that he was truly running away from the pirates that had kidnapped them just a week ago. All he knew in that moment was that he was running, and running far away from where he knew was less of a chance of them being abducted again.
Some time had passed—Yeosang didn’t know how long—before Wooyoung dwindled to a halt in a quiet neighbourhood road, Yeosang following suit. They were both breathless, the sheen of sweat on Wooyoung’s forehead glistening in the sunlight. Yeosang, having come to a complete stop, collapsed to the hard ground as he tried to catch his breath. He didn’t even register the pain on his side from the impact, all too focused on bringing his heart back to a normal pace.
“See?” Wooyoung said after he had cooled down. “That was easy.”
“Yeah.” Yeosang felt lightheaded, but not enough that it impaired his speech. His throat and mouth felt like paper. “Now we have to figure out how to get out of Shanghai.”
“Well… first we have to figure out how to survive in Shanghai, I think.”
Yeosang stared up at the sky above him, the brightness of the azure blue causing a throb in his eyes. Wooyoung had a point. They at least had to know how to survive, and he already knew that training their bodies for endurance was one of them if they planned on escaping from more pirates again.
It had seemed too easy, much like what Wooyoung had said in the beginning. Yeosang couldn’t help the feeling that God had a test waiting for them, something that wasn’t so easily avoidable.
***
Out at sea, Yeosang had not known what season it was, but as soon as night befell, he could tell that it was winter. Sensing that he and Wooyoung would need extra protection in the cold, especially since they were still close to the sea, they sought out a marketplace where Yeosang had seen jackets displayed on the storefront. With the small amount of money they had scavenged on the streets of Shanghai, they were able to buy appropriate clothing. That same night, they found a quaint shelter, merely the awning of a residential building hidden away in an alley, but it housed them all the same. It would protect them from rain, and it would hide them from potential people who wanted to take advantage of them.
It was not difficult finding food, as Shanghai seemed to be riddled with restaurants that threw away their leftover food at the back of the buildings. It was true that the food wasn’t what they had wanted, but the luxury of having good food didn’t matter to either of them, considering their state in that moment.
On their tenth night in Shanghai, Wooyoung seemed to have caught a cold.
On their thirteenth night, his cold was still there.
“Are you okay?” Yeosang asked. “You’ve had this cough for a while now.”
“Well, we don’t get rid of coughs in a day, do we?” Wooyoung’s face lit up with a smile. “Nothing to worry about.”
And it had proved true for the subsequent couple of days.
That was, until, his illness persisted, and Yeosang had caught the cold, too.
Much like finding food, it proved to be rather easy searching for areas of warmth, as they were not the only ones experiencing this harsh peak of winter. If they were lucky enough, they could catch wafts of heat from the open doors of buildings. Though these short bursts of warmth did not last long—more than a few seconds on a good day—anything seemed to have warmed them up, considering they resided outside, rather than in the homely confines of a building.
Their main concern, Yeosang supposed, was to know how to survive. The times when they were not scavenging for food were spent looking for resources that they could use to their advantage. They did not have to worry about missing prayers, since they were told that should an individual be in the same sort of situation they were in, missing prayers was a sin to be absolved.
As they approached the harsher depths of winter, the wind grew colder and more fierce. The heat from within the buildings became warmer, but also less frequent as residents weren’t willing to allow any cold air to seep through into their homes. It was becoming more difficult to rummage for food since it was so cold, and neither of them wanted to stay out in the open air for too long. On a random evening, Wooyoung had found a small stash of discarded clothing, which they found out would become useful as even the shelter they had found for themselves grew colder, despite it being hidden away from the open air.
As if a miracle had occurred, Yeosang recovered from his sickness, though he wouldn’t put it past himself to catch the cold once again. Wooyoung’s illness, however, lingered. His coughs grew hoarser, his skin fading to a pale tan. More often than not, his lips were dry and chapped, and it was only when they found water that they could be temporarily hydrated.
Yeosang grew more concerned as Wooyoung seemed to erupt in sporadic coughing fits, those that would shake his whole body and render him unable to communicate for however long he was seized by the symptoms of his sickness. Along came days where there was less time for them to find more resources, and more time used to tend to Wooyoung and be sure that he didn’t die by choking on a cough drop, and make sure that he was warm enough. More time devoted to praying that Wooyoung would recover from this Hell.
It was evening, and Yeosang had Wooyoung huddled up close to him so that they could conserve their warmths. “We don’t have much water left,” said Wooyoung groggily, gesticulating towards the nearly empty milk bottle, which they had now filled up with water from taps they had found scattered around the city.
“I’ll get it in the morning,” said Yeosang.
“Why not now? What if we need it tonight?”
“It’s becoming dark. I don’t want to have to leave you here to be mauled by some goons or to die in your sickness.”
“That’s not going to happen. You’re too imaginative for your own good.”
Yeosang scoffed. “Okay. I will go, as long as it means you can fend for yourself. I also won’t be back with much water, because I don’t want to heighten the chance of you dying.”
“Again, too imaginative. Just go.”
Despite his decision, Yeosang left their sanctuary with hesitation. He made sure that Wooyoung was tightly wrapped up in the blanket they had found, and that he remained hidden in the alleyway.
Searching for water once again was not difficult, but it was hard gathering the will to stay out on the streets as the winds grew harsher. Yeosang shivered the whole time he was refilling the milk bottle, and his legs wobbled horribly as he ran back to the alleyway.
As he approached their hideout, his ears caught onto the sound of violent coughing. Yeosang scrambled to Wooyoung, shocked to find out that he was once again caught up in a coughing fit. Yeosang put the water down on the ground and immediately hunkered down next to Wooyoung, deftly removing his own jacket to put on Wooyoung. He grabbed the water and put the lip of the bottle to Wooyoung’s mouth, tilting the bottle forward.
“Hey, hey,” Yeosang muttered, hearing his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he made sure Wooyoung took the water. “Don’t give up now, Wooyoung. You can fight. Your own will to live is in your hands.” Silently to himself, Yeosang recited a prayer.
It was a moment before Wooyoung’s coughing waned down to simpler harsh breaths. He took the water gratefully, and Yeosang could see the tears fall off his waterline.
Relief overtook Yeosang stronger than the winds that had struck him, and he gathered Wooyoung in his arms. They did not speak to each other for the rest of that night. To himself, Yeosang said multiple prayers in his head. There came a point where he had recited so much that the syllables jumbled together, he ended up misreciting a few verses, and had to redo the prayer. He had to remind himself that the prayers were being heard, just being responded to in different ways. He had to accept that if anything were to happen to them tonight, it was fate.
***
Yeosang woke to the sound of a fire crackling. His eyes shot open, and suddenly he realised there was a small bonfire burning in front of them.
Startled by the sight, he scrambled to move himself and Wooyoung away from it, only to be stopped in his tracks by the movement of another person in front of them.
Yeosang swallowed the mass that had gathered in his throat. The person—a young man who seemed to be of the same age as them—stood in front of the fire, keeping his hands suspended above the flames, no doubt seeking its warmth. Yeosang stared at the man, mouth agape, wondering how he had gotten to their alleyway and started this fire.
The young man noticed Yeosang’s consciousness. “Good morning,” he said simply.
Yeosang blinked, then looked around. Wooyoung was still sound asleep in his arms, his face buried into Yeosang’s chest, and the only reason Yeosang could see any of this was because of the dim sunlight. It was early morning, the clouds obscuring most of the daylight.
“Hello,” Yeosang managed. His arms tightened around Wooyoung as a safety measure, but he was sure it was also a way he himself could alleviate the wariness he felt. He had to remind himself of the small kitchen knife in his pocket he had found on the street a week ago. “Pardon me but…” He fumbled for words, seized by a sudden sense of anxiety. “Wh-What are you doing here?”
The man gave a closed smile, and it was not unkind, but Yeosang wasn’t given the impression that it was very friendly either. “Seeking warmth. This was the only place I could keep a fire where the winds didn’t blow it away.”
His answer was so simple and Yeosang couldn’t understand why he was so surprised by the man’s presence. Yeosang didn’t know why it took him this long to realise there were other people in this city without homes, looking for some sort of sanctuary.
The reason why Yeosang and Wooyoung decided not to start any fires to keep themselves warm was purely as a means of safety. Neither of them knew how to control a fire, and they were not going to take a chance to figure out how to do it. It would not matter to them, since the clothing they had and other means of keeping warm had kept them alive thus far.
Yeosang felt Wooyoung stir in his arms. He looked down to see Wooyoung rubbing his eyes, getting rid of the last grains of sleep. Upon noticing Wooyoung was awake, the man once again said, “Good morning.”
Wooyoung started at the man’s voice, flinching in Yeosang’s grasp. Yeosang looked up at the man, and noticed that he was smiling once again. He could not help but feel wary once more.
“I suppose you’re not going to sit there all day, are you? I’m going to have to put out this fire soon, unless you’re sure you can control it yourself,” said the man.
Promptly both Yeosang and Wooyoung stood, whatever tiredness in their bones melted away by the heat of the fire. The man smiled to himself and put out the fire with a cloth from his pocket.
“What’s your name?” Wooyoung asked. His voice was hoarse from the lack of use, and possibly still from the remnants of his illness.
When the man stood up again, he held out his hand as a greeting. “I’m Hongjoong. Kim Hongjoong.”
Yeosang shook Hongjoong’s hand. “I’m Yeosang,” he replied tentatively. “This is Wooyoung.”
Hongjoong flashed both of them a smile, and this time he looked more approachable. Slowly the cautiousness Yeosang had towards him was beginning to fade, and it was in this moment he realised he wasn’t really a man. No, he was really just their age; a boy no younger than fifteen.
“Are you two brothers?” asked Hongjoong.
Wooyoung shook his head. Yeosang did not say anything.
Hongjoong nodded. “Well, I suppose—”
The sound of a gunshot made Yeosang flinch horribly, him clinging onto Wooyoung for dear life. Hongjoong put his hands over his ears, and the friendly look on his face was quickly replaced with one of fear. “Ah, shit,” Hongjoong cursed. Without being able to think twice, Hongjoong rushed forward and grabbed both Yeosang and Wooyoung by the arms. “Quick—we have to leave.”
“What, why?” Wooyoung said, confused.
Hongjoong looked at Wooyoung like he was stupid. “You just heard a gunshot. I don’t know why you would stay.”
Yeosang had just managed to breathe once before Hongjoong tugged the both of them through the alleyway, picking up speed so quick that Yeosang found it difficult to keep up. Before they knew it they were running through the streets of Shanghai, and supposedly there was someone on their tail, considering they had heard the gunshot from nearby. The wind squealed into Yeosang’s ears as they ran, and soon the sound became louder as they began to approach the sea. Yeosang was already out of breath, and the air of the beach only made his throat feel even more dry.
“Quickly!” Hongjoong yelled as he deftly pulled them through a mass of people. Yeosang only managed to bump into someone once in his stride.
Yeosang just barely managed to keep his stride up with Hongjoong and Wooyoung once their feet hit the sand. He could taste the sea salt on his tongue—they were so close to the sea that he had so vehemently dreaded going back to.
Suddenly Hongjoong’s run dwindled to a walk as he briskly made his way to a small boat on the line of the shore, where there was another young man waiting. Upon seeing the three of them he stood up, quickly readying the boat for departure.
Hongjoong then turned to Yeosang and Wooyoung. “Be quick. Do you want to come with us or not?”
Yeosang blinked and suddenly it felt as though his mind had gone completely blank. He was being put on the spot to decide whether he wanted to escape Shanghai with a man he had only talked to for five minutes, or stay in Shanghai and be seen by whoever they were escaping from, who had a gun.
Before Yeosang could think any more, he felt Wooyoung tugging him by his sleeve towards the boat.
Yeosang’s breath caught in his throat as he was dragged towards Hongjoong and the other man. He couldn’t open his mouth even to breathe. He didn’t know what to say.
He heard loud footsteps approaching the beach as they settled onto the boat, but before Yeosang could worry about their perpetrator reaching them, they had already started rowing out towards the sea.
Yeosang could only stare into his hands on his lap as Hongjoong and the other man rowed them away from the beach, away from Shanghai to God knew where. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t want to look at Wooyoung either, fearing that he’d see disappointment, or fear. They had just made possibly the most impromptu decision of their lives, and they had not a single clue as to how it would affect them from that point on. The sound of the waves splashing against the side of the boat did little to ease his growing anxiety, only a reminder of the choice they had made and whatever imminent event would occur—that was, if they even lived to see it.
Mustering up sufficient courage, Yeosang lifted his head and looked at the horizon, where the shore was slowly becoming more difficult to see. Upon further concentration he saw the outline of a person walking away from the shoreline. They must have been whoever Hongjoong was running away from.
It was only then that Yeosang gazed at Wooyoung, only to find that the latter was already staring at him, and it seemed as though he was the one waiting to see the other’s face. Yeosang did not say anything, fearful of what may come out of his mouth if he did.
Hongjoong broke the terse silence between the four people on the boat. “How much farther away? The captain can’t have gone too far.”
The other man, who also seemed to be of the same age as them, replied, “Who knows. Probably as a safety measure. You know how he is.”
Hongjoong sighed. “I know, Dongju.”
The man—who now had a name, Dongju—only shrugged and rowed faster. Yeosang noticed him making an effort to not pay attention to either him or Wooyoung, and he didn’t know if he was grateful for it or disappointed.
The sound of the boat’s gentle creaking as Dongju kept rowing blurred into Yeosang’s ears, until his eyes caught sight of a great vessel, the one they were headed towards.
A lump of dread settled in the bottom of Yeosang’s stomach as he realised this was simply a jolly boat. Not again. The one thing he had tried so hard to avoid. The one thing he had steered away from to make sure he and Wooyoung were not putting their lives in danger. The one that had gotten them into this predicament in the first place was now right before Yeosang in the worst possible way.
He took a glance at the water and considered jumping off the boat with Wooyoung and swimming back to shore, only to be reminded that he didn’t really know how to swim, only to float. The mass in Yeosang’s stomach seemed to grow heavier as they continued to advance towards the ship. He didn’t want to do this again. This would not be the way that he would go. If his death meant that he would drown in the sea, or die of starvation, or contract Wooyoung’s cold once again and die from that, he would have it. But he did not want this. He did not want his efforts to stay alive be squashed underneath the foot of fate.
But this was what it was.
What snapped him out of his stupor was a hand on his knee. He looked at Wooyoung’s hand, and then his face. He was not smiling that comforting smile he always gave Yeosang whenever he knew he was distressed, but it felt all the same.
It was not long before the sun was eventually obscured once again, but this time by the vessel. Yeosang noticed the rope ladder collapsing not by sight, but rather by sound—the rickets of the wooden rungs hitting the wooden side of the hull, an unpleasant sound. It was only when he saw Dongju begin to climb up the ladder that Yeosang felt a sudden spike of unease.
The water was right there. What if he fell through the gap and drowned? Would that be his way out? A rather pathetic way to die, but at least he would not be alive to experience the embarrassment. But Yeosang didn’t want to die.
Almost as if sensing Yeosang’s exact concerns, Wooyoung whispered into his ear, “You won’t fall into the water. I’ll make sure you won’t.”
Yeosang couldn’t respond. He didn’t know how to respond with words, so he simply gave a nod of the head. But securing a grip on the ropes was more difficult than Yeosang thought. It seemed as though his anxiety rendered him immobile, glued to the base of the small boat. He sucked in a breath. At the slight nudge Wooyoung gave him, he took his first step. He tried his best not to focus on the terrible way he and the ropes wobbled, but as soon as he gained momentum, he found himself at the top of the rope ladder, climbing over the railing and onto the main deck, Wooyoung climbing on right after and Hongjoong following not very far.
Hongjoong gave both Yeosang and Wooyoung a sympathetic look. “Let me bring you to the captain.”
Wordlessly, Yeosang and Wooyoung followed Hongjoong across the main deck to a companionway down to the captain’s quarters. Yeosang idly noticed the quietness of the ship. There were not many members of the crew in the first place, he realised, as he couldn’t find more than five men in the main deck. He briefly wondered what sort of abnormal pirate ship they had gone on that they didn’t kill him and Wooyoung on sight.
Hongjoong knocked on the doors to the captain’s quarters as soon as they arrived there. A voice behind the door beckoned them to come in, and they did.
Yeosang was stunned by the sight of the room. The first thing that caught his eye were the three large stained windows directly opposite the entrance. To one corner was a bed, and the rest of the room was occupied by a large desk, bookshelves and other miscellaneous trinkets. Various weapons were positioned along all the walls.
Sitting behind the desk was a bearded man, much older than either of them were, and when he stood up to greet the three of them Yeosang noticed he was wearing a long coat. He was shocked, but somehow not surprised that the man looked like a quintessential pirate captain, much like the ones he had read about in those fairytale books of his back at Lotus when he was a child.
“Hongjoong, you’re back,” said the captain with mirth in his tone. His voice was so deep and loud it reverberated through Yeosang’s rib cage. He could only guess it was a result of being a captain and guiding people around, that the volume just came naturally. The captain then shifted his gaze to Yeosang and Wooyoung. “And you’ve brought people.”
“Aye,” came Hongjoong’s easy reply. “Though, sort of against their own will…”
The captain looked amused. It was at this moment that Yeosang realised how tall the captain was, towering over all three of them, at least a head taller.
“All right then.” He stepped around the desk and came to stand before the three young men. “What do you bring me?”
He was looking right at Yeosang. Yeosang didn’t know what to do or say. He could only make eye contact with the captain.
The captain leaned forward. “Are you mute?”
Yeosang shook his head.
“Well then, what is your name?”
“Yeosang. Kang Yeosang.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Have you worked on a ship before? Were you part of another pirate vessel before this?”
This was one question that Yeosang had never been asked before in his life. “I-I don’t know the captain’s name. But the ship was called… erm, The Mermaid’s Scorn.”
“And what did you work as?”
Yet another one. “Nothing in particular. Just… random labour tasks.”
The captain nodded, then moved onto Wooyoung, asking the same string of questions he given Yeosang. Wooyoung gave his answers, and seemed oddly calm doing so.
After having assessed the two newcomers, the captain turned to Hongjoong. “Well, thank you, Hongjoong. You’ve brought us more crewmen, I suppose. You can show them around the ship and assess if they’re any good at anything on the boat, and if they aren’t, they can learn.”
Hongjoong gave a firm nod. “Aye, captain.”
Hongjoong led them out of the captain’s quarters, across the main deck once more and into the galley, where he began to introduce where everything was. He asked if either of them had any meaningful experience with their previous pirate ship—by which point Yeosang wanted to jump off and into the sea water, erasing any hope that this was a navy vessel and they could actually get help. The navy would not ask them to be crewmen, because they already had crewmen. He should have guessed that when he saw the sheer lack of people on the ship. Mariners always came in bouts.
Wooyoung replied to Hongjoong’s question tentatively, a hesitant yes, but Hongjoong didn’t pay much mind to it. He showed them around the ship anyway, sometimes introducing a few crewmen as they passed.
Was it truly this easy? Had Yeosang and Wooyoung evaded death once more? Whatever anxiety had festered in Yeosang before was now dimming.
At the end of the tour, Hongjoong looked Yeosang in the eye. He gave a smile that reached his eyes.
Yeosang didn’t want to believe that it was this easy, that they would be let off so carelessly. Though Hongjoong’s smile was still kind and welcoming, Yeosang would keep his guard up. If not for Wooyoung’s sake, then for himself.
***
Yeosang didn’t know how much time had passed by the time they had settled into the ship, but he suspected they were nearing the end of the day from the sudden patches of colour that appeared in the sky. Hongjoong had finished their tour, and decided that both Yeosang and Wooyoung were to stay in—a small cabin that hosted bunks that could fit six people.
Hongjoong told them that they were to figure out what their roles on the ship would be soon, but that they didn’t have to worry themselves over it right now. Yeosang was relieved in that moment, but knew eventually it would come, and that he couldn’t wallow in his misery of being on a pirate ship forever.
The cabin they slept in was not a private area, despite the fact that there were only around five people sleeping there. Hongjoong was not here in this cabin; Yeosang guessed that he slept elsewhere.
Unlike the previous ship he and Wooyoung had been on, this crew was comprised of even lesser crewmen, around a third of the amount from before. Multiple bunks were vacant, but Yeosang and Wooyoung slept close together, naturally.
By the time night befell, Wooyoung had already fallen into a deep slumber, one that Yeosang suspected was only a result of his remaining sickness’s fatigue.
Yeosang, however, stayed as alert as he had been since they were running. He felt a flare of jealousy that Wooyoung could so easily succumb to sleep, whereas Yeosang couldn’t think of any way to calm himself down from his whirring thoughts. Sleep didn’t come to him as naturally as it probably should have.
Much like Shanghai, some part of Yeosang thought that this was too easy, and that there was another imminent obstacle he and Wooyoung would have to tackle. After having been exposed to how bad people could be to them—though he knew it could be worse—it was difficult to imagine anyone outside of Lotus being kind to them. When Hongjoong was showing them around the poop deck, the captain had passed them. It would have been an understatement to say that Yeosang was surprised when the captain flashed them a toothy grin. Granted, Yeosang couldn’t tell if there was malicious intent behind the smile, but it was certainly better than how they were treated in the first ship.
But of course these men would assume they were here to work. They didn’t know that Yeosang and Wooyoung were orphans, that they were doing just fine when unfortunately they had been swept up in the seas by some rogue pirate ship. Granted, they hadn’t told them that explicitly, but why should they? Hadn’t their hesitation been enough? Hadn’t that evident fear Yeosang showed them been enough to tell them they didn’t want to be here?
Yeosang wondered how this was yet another turning point in their life already, in a matter of two months. He wondered why it was this easy to be recruited onto a pirate ship. Then again, it wasn’t as though there were recruitment forms and applications. The fact that criminals such as pirates having any record of their existence was absurdly dangerous, considering the prospect of them being caught by the navy.
It all came back to one point. This was their life. At least, for now.
Yeosang only slept for one hour. In the morning he awoke to Wooyoung shaking him awake.
“Good morning,” said Wooyoung, flashing him a smile.
Yeosang managed another small smile in response. “How are you? Still sick?”
“I feel better.” Wooyoung shrugged. “I think the running heated up my body to a point where the cold just went away.”
Yeosang nodded. Everything still felt surreal to him.
“Hongjoong wants to speak to us,” Wooyoung said. “Well, you. He told me I should go with Dongju to learn how to navigate the helm.”
“Oh.” Yeosang felt a little more comfortable knowing he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of talking to someone new and reintroducing himself again. “All right. Where… erm, where should I meet him?”
“He said to find him in the dining room.”
“Okay.” Yeosang pursed his lips. “You’re all right? Not sea sick or anything?”
Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal. “You’re worried about me more than I’m supposed to be worried about you. You don’t have to stress about me. I can defend myself.”
“You got punched on the first pirate ship. And you were the one that nearly died of a cold.”
Wooyoung grabbed a pillow and lightly hit Yeosang with it. They erupted into giggles, and Yeosang momentarily forgot he had a duty to tend to.
True to Wooyoung’s word, Hongjoong was waiting for Yeosang in the dining room, and he was alone. Eased by the sight of only him, Yeosang sat opposite Hongjoong.
Hongjoong caught sight of Yeosang. “Morning,” he smiled.
“Good morning,” Yeosang replied.
“Now, you’re a new member of our crew.”
Yeosang nodded, though very hesitantly. Like he didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself.
“Do you have anything to offer?” Hongjoong asked.
Yeosang blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Do you know how to fight? Have you ever fought before?”
He couldn’t believe the questions he was being asked, though Yeosang supposed this was protocol for any member of a pirate ship. Or any ship. He shook his head.
Hongjoong went on. “What kind of work did you do on your last pirate ship?”
“Just a few laborious things, like moving crates and cleaning up the few rooms. We were there for around a week.”
Hongjoong stayed silent, evaluating his answer.
Up close, Yeosang was able to see Hongjoong’s face properly. In the glaring sunlight let in by the window on the side he noticed the sharp point of his nose, so dominant on his face that it was almost difficult to ignore. His hair was dyed a mousy brown, longer towards the nape of his neck. He was wearing a necklace with a bright, teal opal pendant. His ears were bedecked in multiple piercings, and Yeosang was sure he had at least four earrings on one lobe alone.
Hongjoong’s eyes were also fascinating, his waterline lined with kohl to bring out the colour of his dark eyes, and the way they were slanted inwards made him give off the resemblance of a fox. Yeosang was already aware of Hongjoong’s fluent Korean, but the way his face was carved only seemed to solidify his Korean lineage. Hongjoong was attractive, beautiful even.
“Yeosang?”
Hongjoong’s voice snapped Yeosang out of his stupor. “Yes?”
“Are you listening?”
“I am.”
Noticing the shocked look on Yeosang’s face, Hongjoong gave a brief smile that bared his teeth. Yeosang saw a glint in the sunlight. One of Hongjoong’s canine teeth was silver.
“What did I say right then?” Hongjoong said.
Yeosang came to a standstill. He couldn’t help but sport a sheepish smile, having been caught.
Hongjoong chuckled. “I said I think I’ll show you around the various tasks aboard the ship. If you find one you like, you can stick to it. Just know that everyone aboard can do pretty much a bit of everything, mainly as a safety measure if something suddenly goes wrong. You’re going to have to get used to being a jack of all trades.”
He wanted to tell Hongjoong that they didn’t belong here. The words were already formulated at the back of his throat—“We’re orphans, not pirates”—but he bit his tongue in his mouth. He couldn’t speak those words. Like something solid blocked that opening in the back of his mouth, at the very back of his tongue.
“All right.” Yeosang nodded to himself. “Will I have to… erm, like you said, know how to fight?”
“Eventually, yes. Whenever we battle with enemy pirates, you’ll have to learn how to defend yourself and, though it shouldn’t happen too often, kill a few people.”
The casual way Hongjoong had said kill shocked Yeosang, and he felt it so fiercely he thought he may have showed his surprise physically. He knew it would be tough out here in a criminal world, but for some reason it had completely gone over his head that he would have to resort to killing. It seemed otherworldly, preposterous. Yeosang couldn’t imagine himself ridding someone of their life, committing the sin with the highest degree of punishment.
“I’m sorry, but what if…” Yeosang swallowed the lump in his throat. “What if I can’t fight? I can’t kill either.”
Hongjoong lifted a brow. “Why? Does it go against your morals?”
Yeosang was left astonished once again by Hongjoong’s casualness. “Pardon me, but doesn’t it go against yours?”
“Of course it does.” Hongjoong smirked. “But when someone goes out to kill you, you have to defend yourself, no?”
“Well, yes—” Yeosang was at a loss for words. “Is it really that common that we have to kill? Do you just go around provoking people that you have to kill them?”
“Not that often. But it’s not uncommon.”
“Do I have to learn how to fight?”
“It’s just as useful as learning how to cook.”
Yet another absurd statement. After a moment of silence, Yeosang asked Hongjoong, “How old are you?”
It was a while before Hongjoong responded. “Sixteen.”
Of all things that Hongjoong had said to him, this perturbed Yeosang the most. Hongjoong was only a year older than him, and yet his mindset and way of living was drastically different from his. It occurred to Yeosang that he and Wooyoung were not the only adolescents in the world, and that Hongjoong must have had a different upbringing in order to think the way he did. Even so, Yeosang couldn’t shake off the feeling that this lifestyle was not what a normal young man should be dealing with. Although he had only known Hongjoong for a day at most, he seemed kind enough to deserve a normal life that didn’t involve violence and killing.
“I suppose I could start with… the ropes,” Yeosang said after the silence.
Hongjoong nodded. “Sure. Whenever you feel confident with that, I’ll show you around other tasks. I’ll decide your final role, same for Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung. Yeosang wondered how he was doing with the helm, if he was good at it. He must have been, considering that everything Wooyoung tried out for the first time, he tended to be good at.
Yeosang nodded once more, not only to Hongjoong, but to himself. It was about time he learned to accept everything that was happening to him. If he didn’t toughen up soon, he knew everything would backfire on him without hesitation.
He should have told Hongjoong where they really came from. That they were really orphans that were abducted on accident, that they had no place on a pirate ship. But he remembered how the words died down in his throat when he tried to divulge their truth to Hongjoong. Like something deep, from within him deterred Yeosang from telling Hongjoong that.
***
It took Yeosang multiple attempts at the riggings to navigate them confidently, and not long after he eventually mastered how to use the guns and cannons. At times it was difficult to keep up with the crewmen spilling pirate jargon at him, often rapidly as if they assumed he already understood whatever they were saying. Yeosang caught on soon enough, and ultimately he decided he knew everything he needed to know.
The same applied for Wooyoung. As though a miracle had been bestowed upon them, Wooyoung recovered quickly from his cold, despite it being even colder out at sea during the winter. Wooyoung, too, had become a jack of all trades, like Hongjoong had mentioned, except he was most confident in navigating the ship. Yeosang didn’t quite understand how this was the case, considering that he knew Wooyoung had no prior experience with sailing ships, but he assumed it must have been a natural talent.
One day when Yeosang was out cleaning up the wooden floorboards near the ship’s knighthead, he eventually noticed the wooden figurehead situated underneath the bowsprit. The sunlight revealed the carving of a great bird, with a wingspan that stretched almost the width of the hull. Its beak was open fiercely and eyes furrowed in a rather frightening glare. By the time Yeosang wracked his brain to figure out what the creature really was, he realised it was a phoenix.
Yeosang and Wooyoung also learned about the crewmen they were sharing the ship with.
A lot of the crew, including Dongju, carried the same framework in their story of how they came about this world of piracy. Lots of talk about them being orphans, or abducted at a young age by other pirates and that was how they became who they were now. A select few were former members of marine vessels, now turned pirates.
Hongjoong’s story stood out the most to Yeosang.
Born into a middle class family in the northern mainland of Korea, Kim Hongjoong was the son of a marine officer. By some chance event that Hongjoong couldn’t entirely remember, he was kidnapped by pirates at the age of 10. After about a year, he was dropped off at Egypt, where he worked several different jobs on the shoreline up until the age of 13, where he was recruited to another pirate ship, except that particular ship was from India. Over the course of his life he had mastered Korean, Arabic and could translate a few Dravidian languages. His time in Egypt explained most of his appearance, including his kohl lined, vulpine eyes and the jewellery he often wore. He had hopped across multiple different ships before he was assigned the role of first mate on this ship two years ago.
Hongjoong had been through much more than any of them had, and it was evident through his demeanour and the way he carried himself. Dignified, confident. It gave Yeosang all the more reason to admire him.
Courtesy of a calendar in the captain’s quarters, Yeosang found out that, around a month after they joined the ship, they were already close to the end of February. Winter was now easing into spring, and though Yeosang had already grown accustomed to the harsher cold, he was grateful for the imminent warmth that would come their way.
Yeosang and Wooyoung went on their first raid around this time. With lots of convincing and multiple prayers said beforehand asking God for mercy for the things they were about to do, Yeosang and Wooyoung joined Hongjoong, Dongju and the rest of the crew, where they landed on the shore of an island south to that of the Korean mainland. Namhae, it was called.
It was nighttime and loud, no doubt they had landed in the hours of the night where the village was the liveliest. While Yeosang and Wooyoung hesitantly walked across the gangplank, the rest of the crew were very different. For a small crew, they were fierce, for they all but spat fire in the faces of those that opposed them.
Considering Yeosang and Wooyoung’s hesitancy to fight, Hongjoong had told him beforehand, “At least fight back if you are provoked.” With that statement in mind and a dagger held tightly in his hand, Yeosang approached the small town carefully and made an active effort to avoid being seen by any villagers who recognised that he was foreign.
The crew had set the village on fire, and soon the lively sound of the villagers turned into a horrible chorus of screaming and the destruction of what was no doubt homes for many. Yeosang felt guilty for every second he was there witnessing the terror, and doing nothing to stop it. He could almost feel the angel on his left shoulder continually writing down sin after sin as he continued to ignore an innocent villager whose life was being turned upside down. It took everything in him not to hide among the villagers and escape from the crew, but he couldn’t do it. There was a small but determined part of his mind that kept him on track and alert, ready for anything that was to disturb his path.
After what felt like hours making sure the village was being raided, Yeosang felt a tap on his shoulder. Wooyoung was behind him, and Yeosang was just barely able to hear him say that their raid was soon to be over, and that, apparently, the shoreline village was offering a villager as tribute.
Quickly they made it back to the front of the vessel. Here, a large group of villagers were huddled close around the pirate crew. The gap between the two groups of people was occupied by a single person.
A male. He wasn’t a child, nor was he an adult. He was shaking, clearly as a result of whatever fear had gripped him.
“And what does this boy have to offer?” said the captain, already in the process of negotiating with the villagers.
A young woman spoke up from the crowd of villagers. “He is an outcast!” she said, almost proudly. “He has nothing to offer, except for the possibility that maybe you will get out of here!”
There was a chorus of murmurs among the villagers, a clear dispute arising. The young man in the middle kept quivering in fear.
“And why should we take him, if he has nothing to offer?” called out Dongju. His voice was ever confident, and it was easy to notice he had done this many times before.
Then, an uproar. Yeosang could hear multiple voices speaking up at once, but he could only hear the words of a few.
“He is useless!”
“He doesn’t bring anything valuable to this village!”
“The son of a prostitute! What more use could this boy have other than being a dirty scumbag?”
Every sentence felt like a jab to the stomach. The words were not directed at Yeosang, and yet he felt sad, knowing how much humiliation the boy was facing right now. Yeosang suppressed the urge to go over and tend to him, tightening his grip on his dagger.
“Now what’s this?!” yelled Hongjoong, and immediately his voice commanded the whole crowd to go silent. He stepped forward, and the orange light of the flames from the village illuminated his face. Even though half of his face was covered in a mask like the rest of the crew, his anger was very much palpable. If Yeosang were one of the villagers at this moment, he would have been terrified of him. “How is it that even in a state of turmoil, you humiliate this innocent boy? Have you no shame?”
Again, more quiet mumbling. As each moment passed Yeosang was itching to hide the boy from these uncouth villagers, but he stood his ground. He would wait until this entire ordeal was over.
A man from the crowd gave a snort of indignation. “We have already told you. He is useless. An outcast. It’s better you don’t waste your time and just take him already. Haven’t you finished terrorising our village?”
Whatever sadness had occupied the forefront of Yeosang’s emotions was now replaced with a slowly growing anger. The same way he felt sympathy for the boy, he felt angry that these people were so rude and mannerless. As his eyes caught sight of the man who had said it, Yeosang’s annoyance seemed to grow tenfold.
Hongjoong stepped forward. He was staring directly at the man. “You will repeat everything you just said to me.” A sternly said command, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
The man seemed confused. Nonetheless, he started, “He is—”
A gunshot. A series of terrified shrieks. The thud of a body falling to the ground. At the end of Hongjoong’s arm was his pistol, and on the other end of the muzzle was the man, clutching at his shoulder and staggering back into the crowd.
For once, Yeosang didn’t flinch at the sound of a gun firing. Like the flip of a switch, he was now immune to any fear the sight in front of him may have instilled in him if he were the Yeosang from three months ago. He watched the scene before him unravel unperturbed, like he had switched into the body of someone who had seen this a hundred times before.
Now that the villagers were occupied with the injured man, Hongjoong stepped towards the boy in the centre. He said something to him Yeosang couldn’t hear, but all he could see was that it elicited a shaky nod from the boy. Satisfied with the answer, Hongjoong grabbed the boy by the arm and looked over his shoulder at the man who he had shot.
“You had better not cross paths with me again, or the next bullet will go through your head,” Hongjoong said.
The statement alone was enough to make the whole crowd go quiet. Now the only thing Yeosang could hear was the crackling of fire and the quietened whimpers of a few villagers. From the corner of his eye, Yeosang saw the captain gesture for the crew to make their way back to the ship.
Daringly, Yeosang shot a cold look towards the villagers before he trailed after Dongju back to the vessel.
***
The boy the village had handed over as “tribute” was scared to death as soon as he stepped onto the main deck. His face was streaked with tears, and his body was still shaking with sobs.
Yeosang found it inhumane that those villagers would give him away like this. He was sure there was more to the boy than whatever the people claimed he was. After all, no human deserved to be handed over to criminals as “tribute”. He found it very reductive of the boy’s worth.
With an unsettling sinking feeling in his stomach, Yeosang realised he was part of those criminals.
Noticing how hard the boy was shaking, Hongjoong walked over to him. Putting his hands on either of the boy’s shoulders, he asked him, “What’s your name?”
For a moment the boy couldn’t answer, until a single syllable left his mouth. “San,” he said.
San. Mountain.
“What’s your full name?” Hongjoong prodded.
“Choi San.”
Hongjoong shot a glance over at the captain, who was watching them from a short distance away. They exchanged eye contact, and the captain switched places with Hongjoong.
“You don’t have to worry about those villagers humiliating you anymore,” said the captain. His voice was simultaneously stern, but also sympathetic. “You’re on our ship now.”
There was another break where everyone was silent, save for San’s crying which had dwindled down to quieter sniffles.
Hongjoong strode back over to San. He put a hand on his shoulder, then made eye contact with Yeosang and Wooyoung. He nodded towards the companionway. Wordlessly, both of them followed Hongjoong guiding San over to a cabin.
It was Yeosang’s first raid aboard a pirate ship, and he felt a shift within him beginning to arise.
***
It took Choi San two days to open up.
For the majority of those two days, he was cooped up in one of the cabins, wanting to be left alone. He didn’t speak at all unless it was to say yes or no to food, which he didn’t take much of in the first place. He looked miserable, but Yeosang could empathise with him easily. He was in San’s shoes not too long ago.
And almost as if it was meant for him, San spoke to Yeosang first.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Yeosang said softly. San was sitting on the edge of a bunk, facing the window, his back to Yeosang. “I know how you feel being on this ship. I was in your shoes about three months ago.”
At his words, San turned his head. “Really?” said San.
Yeosang was so surprised by the gesture he momentarily forgot he had even spoken to elicit that response. He sobered up and nodded.
San now turned around fully. He was sitting cross-legged on the bunk opposite Yeosang. “How?”
It took Yeosang a minute to properly articulate his words. “Me and Wooyoung—erm, the other man you met. The one that navigates the ship with Dongju—” He was stammering already. He took a deep breath to compose himself. “Wooyoung and I were orphans, and we were kidnapped onto a pirate ship against our will. Not this one—”
He went on for a while, trying to navigate through his stutters. He didn’t know what was causing it, only that San thankfully didn’t point it out at all. Eventually when he finished his recount of his journey thus far, San’s face looked blank. For a fleeting moment Yeosang thought San hadn’t even been listening to him, and was about to feel disappointed, only for San to finally speak up.
“That’s one hell of a story.”
Yeosang felt his lips curl in a smile. “I suppose it is.”
“Now am I expected to pay you back by telling you my story?”
“Only if you want to.” Yeosang settled onto the bed so that he was comfortable. “I don’t have any duties as of this moment. I’ll listen to you.”
So San told his story. He was the same age as Yeosang and Wooyoung, slightly younger than the former. True to the villagers’ words, he was the son of a prostitute, but he didn’t speak about his mother the way the villagers had. While the tone of the people was ill-natured, San’s was reminiscent and loving. He said his mother was the most loving person in his life, the only person who had taken care of him. When she died when he was 10, he was taken care of by his grandparents, whom he also loved. It was a year ago that both his grandparents passed away. He began to live by himself, working in the village as a servant for a family that “couldn’t love him even if they were paid”.
Yeosang listened to the whole recount. San’s voice was quiet throughout, like he was afraid they would be overheard.
“You’ve been through a lot,” was all Yeosang could say. He wasn’t very good at consoling people.
“I know.”
“Hell of a lot more than me.” Yeosang grinned.
San smiled back, revealing a set of deep dimples. Yeosang couldn’t stop staring at him. He wondered how San could have gone through whatever he did and still manage a smile. Yeosang wouldn’t know what he would have done if he had lost Wooyoung three months ago, his only friend. The thought was so preposterous that Yeosang shook it out of his head. He wouldn’t think of such horrible things now.
It was easier for San to settle into the ship after his conversation with Yeosang. After consulting the captain and Hongjoong, it was decided that San would be the designated lookout of the ship. He had mentioned before that during this time in the village, San had taken up the hobby of archery, and taking his word that he was good at it, the captain gave San a bow and a set of arrows. Soon enough, everyone could find the newcomer on the crow’s nest. He befriended Wooyoung and Hongjoong quickly, and their friendship formed faster than Yeosang had thought. The ship was in order for a while, and for the first time in a long time, Yeosang felt at peace.
That was, until a month later that they commenced their first battle.
Yeosang could not recount the battle for the life of him. It was on a quiet evening that San spotted a foreign ship on the horizon, and the captain ordered that they initiate attack.
Much like the first raid, there was fire everywhere, on both ships. Yeosang was given a sword to fight with, Wooyoung and Hongjoong a pistol and San his bow and arrow. Yeosang felt like a fish out of water brandishing his sword at the enemy ship, and yet somehow he managed to save himself every time someone advanced on him. He injured many, and once again, the angel on his left shoulder wrote down every sin.
Their ship won the battle, but with a cost.
Death caught the captain and Dongju. The captain died of a slashed throat and Dongju an arrow to the heart.
Upon seeing the dead body of the two men, tears sprang to Yeosang’s eyes. He had known these two people for two months at best, and yet it seemed as though he had known them for his whole life. He clung to Wooyoung as he cried.
The two men’s funeral was held during the sunrise, the morning after the battle. Even San, who had only been with them for a month, shed tears.
The ship was quiet for at least another week. Yeosang sought comfort from Wooyoung primarily, who did the same for the other.
Then came the day they would choose their new captain.
Hongjoong gathered the crew on the main deck. It was a chilly afternoon and Yeosang found it difficult to contain his body warmth even with a jacket on.
“We will hold this vote for our new captain,” Hongjoong said. His voice was stern and impassive. It unnerved Yeosang. “I will call out each of your names, and you will vote once for who you think should be elected as captain of this ship.”
As per his words, Hongjoong went around the crew, even calling Yeosang, Wooyoung and San’s names. It hadn’t occurred to him that he was important enough on this ship that he would be a candidate for captain. But now he was aware, in perhaps the worst way possible.
Hongjoong called his own name last. Unanimously, everyone voted for him. Hongjoong didn’t look surprised, nor did he look proud. It was a bittersweet moment. Yeosang couldn’t possibly have imagined what it must have felt like for Hongjoong, but in a way he understood why he had been chosen. Hongjoong was the most fit for the role. Thinking back to the raid in Namhae, the way he all but reeked authority and easily grabbed everyone’s undivided attention, Yeosang thought he already was the captain.
Yeosang was taken by surprise when Hongjoong elected him as the new quartermaster.
It was on the same day he was elected as captain, but this time they were alone in the captain’s quarters. Yeosang figured that this was the reason why Hongjoong had called him here in the first place.
“Why me?” Yeosang couldn’t help but ask.
Hongjoong’s answer seemed predetermined. “Because I think you would suit the role best. You’re disciplined enough to decide what is right and what’s wrong. I think it’s because of your and Wooyoung’s religious background.”
Yeosang supposed that was true. Most of the crewmen didn’t undergo a religious upbringing; it was only Yeosang and Wooyoung. Subsequently, they were the most level-headed.
“Then why didn’t you choose Wooyoung?”
“I would have, if he wasn’t as good at being a sailing master.”
Hongjoong was calm all throughout, both during this past week as well as now. Yeosang found it rather disconcerting.
“You don’t seem as affected by the captain and Dongju’s death as others,” remarked Yeosang.
At his words Hongjoong sat there silently. It was a while before he gave his answer.
“In this line of work, you have to be prepared to lose everything and everyone at any moment in time. Including yourself.”
Hongjoong’s words rang in Yeosang’s head like a knell over and over again for the rest of the day. His words were very much true, but Yeosang was disappointed, and a little bitter that he had to realise this—or rather, have this said to him—the way he did. He found it unfair that he had to witness the death of two men he was close to considering his friends. The ridding of two men’s lives to realise that his own life, as well as the rest of the ship’s men’s lives were on the line at this very moment. It was only a matter of time before they would be captured by the navy, or die by the hands of another enemy ship, or be swallowed by a tsunami. And those were only a few of the possibilities they could go.
This way of thinking was not healthy for Yeosang, and he knew this. He figured he would overcome this, much like he had overcome everything that had happened to him so far.
***
With Hongjoong reigning the ship as the new captain, Yeosang as the new quartermaster, Wooyoung as the sailing master and San as their skilled lookout, they prospered.
Despite Yeosang’s fears of dying in his newfound lifestyle of piracy, they were becoming bigger than ever, in perhaps every sense of the word. The four of them, being the youngest among the crew, grew into their bodies, maturing faster than they could see it coming. They raided more cities, conquered both naval vessels and other pirates, and their plunder only saw an exponential increase. Their respective skills became even more honed. Wooyoung mastered the art of the helm and having the whole ship under his control. While San was an excellent archer, his fighting skills were just as extraordinary, and he even took the skill to such a liking that he would teach some of his tricks to the rest of the crew. Once the shy boy, San now was more confident in his stature, standing tall with his chin tilted high. He looked out of place with such good posture and polite demeanour on a pirate ship, but Yeosang became used to the sight.
Yeosang still bore the jack-of-all-trades persona, but as time went on he became the master of all. He was proving his position as quartermaster, and he was denoted as the best the crew had had in years.
Hongjoong’s captainship began to attract attention. Under his rule, at the same time they became rich, they also began to gain a reputation. Hongjoong was named the Silver-Toothed Phoenix, courtesy of his silver canine, and the symbol of a phoenix burning up into flames on their flag—their coat of arms. They named their vessel The Light’s Revenge, and even though it didn’t catch on at first, the name came to them like the vessel was already among them as a singular person. There was a dispute about the name translating to English to the name of another ship that had existed long ago to a renowned English pirate, and Yeosang feared they might have been called out for plagiarism. Hongjoong reassured him that, as long as the English remained as brainless and uncultured as they currently were, there wouldn’t be a problem. Nonetheless, Light and its crew were known among the commoners as a fabled entity on the eastern seas.
Alongside all of this, their crew grew, too.
Six months after Hongjoong’s captainship, they recruited another young man who, though was younger than the four of the youngest on the ship, was extremely skilled as a master gunner. They picked Choi Jongho off the coast of Fukuoka. He was an orphan who had been working for his uncle in Japan for around a year before he was recruited. He also proved himself as an extraordinarily skilled fighter, and he would always win whenever he and San had arm wrestling competitions. He got along well with the rest of the crew, a lot quicker than San did, and took a liking towards teasing Wooyoung a lot.
In the same month they secured their ship doctor. Jeong Yunho, who was the same age as Yeosang and had been studying medicine on the coastline of Gwangju, gladly took the job after Hongjoong jokingly asked if he wanted to join the crew. They were stunned at Yunho’s optimistic attitude, but welcomed him to Light with open arms and he soon became an integral part of the team. Almost like a missing puzzle piece, Yunho made the ship come to life with his bright ambience and reputable sense of humour.
A month after Jongho and Yunho, they serendipitously found another sailing master. Also the same age as Yeosang, Song Mingi was scouted off the coast of Incheon. The tall young man had had previous experience with nautical navigation on another ship, and he was just as excited to join Hongjoong’s crew as another sailing master. Quickly enough, he and Wooyoung became the dynamic sailing duo of the ship, and he and San were soon enough known as being the pranksters on board. Mingi fit into the mold of their friendship almost as if he was already there.
Hongjoong and his ship made a name for themselves in the years that followed his captainship. Yeosang could only name one other infamous vessel on the eastern seas—a ship called The Aurora’s Reign, captained by a man named Park Seonghwa. His ship had the same reputation as Hongjoong’s, but what everyone knew the man primarily for was slaying a kraken. The tale was told to everyone, children and adults alike, of how Park Seonghwa and his men had slain the mighty kraken in the midst of a seastorm. While it sprouted respect for the man, it just as surely instilled fear in the masses of what Seonghwa was capable of.
Their reputation was also associated with the way Hongjoong looked. Once they had enough loot, he donned an intricately designed white outfit, with a long coat and white gloves to match. Tales circulated around the east about how those who died on the other side of Hongjoong’s sword would see his silver tooth before they passed away, a small glint in a sinister smile. He would set fire to the bodies he eliminated, producing the effect of the captain disappearing in the mass of flames like a phoenix ready for its rebirth. Though that wasn’t always the case, commoners liked to tell it to children as a horror story, but adults feared him just the same.
Along with the outfits, Yeosang and Wooyoung had another request carried out by Hongjoong. They used a small portion of their loot to build a bookshelf in Yeosang and Wooyoung’s shared cabin. In that bookshelf they stocked it with countless holy scripts and scrolls. If there were days where they were free, Wooyoung and Yeosang would silently read through their holy books, so as to maintain their spirituality.
Those preliminary thoughts Yeosang had had about escaping with Wooyoung now resided in a faraway part of his mind. Now he often thought about how content he felt on the ship, oftentimes more than he had felt back at the orphanage, exactly how much this small family had given. How his life really began on the other side of fear.
They thrived. Slowly but surely, a brotherhood formed.
***
They were roaming about the streets of an unnamed city in Korea. It was spring. They were nineteen.
They had just gotten out of a hairdresser. Wooyoung dyed his hair a pale blonde, Jongho had gone there for a trim, and San, as experimental as ever, went for a look where a portion of his fringe was bleached. Yeosang got his roots redone so that it matched the rest of his dyed brown hair.
The crew had grown. Taking much of their inspiration from Hongjoong, they all got their ears pierced and donned earrings more often than not. Jongho was the last of them to hit puberty, and yet he seemed the most manly of them all, his arms sinewed with raw strength. San, Mingi and Yunho grew to be taller and leaner, and though their muscles weren’t as prominent as Jongho’s, they were still as strong as ever. Yeosang and Wooyoung seemed to be right in the middle, sporting muscles as a result of their constant labour aboard the ship. Hongjoong remained short in stature, and was often teased by the taller members for his height, but he had arguably grown the most. He was the most mature of them all.
After Yeosang had gotten his hair done, Wooyoung said to him with a smile, “You look good.”
It was a simple statement, but for some reason, it caused Yeosang’s heart to momentarily flinch. In a good way. Yeosang smiled back sheepishly. “Thank you.”
“Your hair looks like a pie,” remarked Mingi with a giggle, referencing San’s hair as they were walking back to Light. “I could tear off that bleached part of your hair and eat it.”
“And when I dye your virgin hair a wretched green in your sleep?” San threatened, scowling.
“That doesn’t matter. You know I’d look good in it anyway,” said Mingi.
“Suck my dick,” said San.
They erupted into a fit of laughter, their banter as a group as playful as ever. Yeosang strayed in his stride and put a piece of paper that was in his pocket into a nearby bin.
He was about to turn the corner and rejoin them when a poster on a far brick wall caught his eye. He halted where he stood, letting his gaze follow the poster. Before he knew he was doing it, he started to walk over to it.
“Yeosang-ah!” called San’s voice. “Come on, we can’t wait!”
Yeosang darted his head to the side, where San was already wending his way towards the ship. He was in the process of following him, only to stop when the poster caught his eye, once again.
Yeosang turned his head back to look at it. This time, Yeosang inspected it carefully, and just barely felt the cold sensation in his stomach settle as he saw the image of a face, placed in the centre of the page.
He thought it was a child, but on closer inspection, it was a teenager. The face of a boy. A young boy, no older than fifteen, with dark hair and even darker eyes. A boy named Kang Yeosang.
The walls of Yeosang’s throat began to close up. He swallowed down the lump in his throat as he read the contents of the poster.
MISSING
KANG YEOSANG
Samcheok Citizen
15 YEARS OLD
LAST SEEN: 20th December
DESCRIPTION: Date of Birth: 15 June, Male, 15 years. Orphan. Black hair, brown eyes, slim build. Birthmark near his left eye. Most likely has a necklace around his neck.
Any information concerning Kang Yeosang should be communicated to,
HWANG KIYOUNG,
Lotus Children Orphanage
“In The Lord, we trust”
Yeosang’s eyes went back to the image on the paper. His own face was staring back at him, but that wasn’t him. That had been him, a long time ago. Who knew how old this poster was, or when it had been printed and put up.
“Yeosang-ah!” came Mingi’s voice. “Come on!”
With trembling hands, Yeosang picked it off the wall, ridding it of whatever adhesive that was used to stick it. He rolled the poster into a scroll and carefully put it into his satchel. He gulped down whatever anxiety had closed up his throat once again, keeping his head low as he wove through the crowd of citizens.
***
Yeosang couldn’t deny it, even if he wanted to. For a fleeting moment, so short that it may not have even happened, Yeosang thought of grabbing Wooyoung and going back.
Even as he went up the gangplank back to the ship, even as he engaged in hearty conversations with the crew during lunch, even as he got bored and neatly restacked the books and scrolls in his and Wooyoung’s room, it stuck to the back of his mind, like an uncontrollable itch. By the time Hongjoong had come around to check up on how everyone was doing in the beginning of the evening, Wooyoung had responded to the captain with a cheery smile, meanwhile Yeosang could only manage a feeble nod. If Hongjoong noticed his uneasiness, then he didn’t care to comment. Yeosang was glad for it, he supposed. He wouldn’t have known what to answer with, if Hongjoong asked him if something was wrong.
Yeosang went to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was taller than he had been in the photo of the poster. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now Yeosang realised that his brows were more taut, brought closer to the space between them and his nose. He looked more unapproachable like this, and it helped when he didn’t want to interact with others or when he had to fend off commoners. His jawline and cheekbones were more defined, both as a result of what he was eating and his growth and development as a whole. He did not look like a teenager anymore. He was nothing like the boy in the poster. Yeosang was a man now.
It bothered Yeosang more than he cared to admit. That was, the fact that he’d even thought about it. About running away with Wooyoung and going back to the life that they had tried to pursue however many years ago when they had first been abducted. About worshipping their lord alongside common folk, rather than pirates.
Something about it felt wrong. It felt as though he had insulted and offended Hongjoong and his crew, even though he had said nothing to them in the first place. Everyone in the crew, including San and Mingi and Jongho and Yunho and whoever else he had met on the ship, had offered him a home. To spurn that seemed immoral, something Yeosang knew he never would willingly do.
On some level, Yeosang even felt it was an offence to Wooyoung. Wooyoung, who had made such good friends aboard Light. Wooyoung, who had no problem with worshipping his lord on a ship, even when people more pious than him probably wouldn’t. He, who had found a home on the ship just as much as Yeosang did. Wooyoung, a persevering, kind soul, who was happy with his current life on the sea.
To think that, even for a second, Yeosang had considered ridding him of that happiness.
***
It was nighttime by the time the lot of them retreated to their beds. “Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, beckoning his attention.
“Hm?”
“I found something today. At the dock.”
Wooyoung rolled over so that he was lying on his stomach, looking down at Yeosang. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
Yeosang didn’t entirely respond. Instead, he reached over for his satchel on the table beside the bed and, with some strain from the position he was in, pulled out the poster.
He unraveled it, noticing how Wooyoung was eyeing him carefully, no doubt clueless about what this was. By the time Yeosang managed to unscroll it, Wooyoung looked nonplussed.
Yeosang gave it to Wooyoung, watching how his face changed from curiosity to disbelief within a matter of seconds. He saw his eyes move side to side as he read the contents of the poster, then linger in the center of the page, where his photo was.
Yeosang waited a long moment, gauging Wooyoung’s reaction, which was simply staring at the paper. When he eventually looked up, there were tears at the brim of Wooyoung’s eyes.
Seeing that, Yeosang couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, raising a hand to wipe away one traitorous tear that had managed to cascade down Wooyoung’s cheek. Wooyoung didn’t repsond, not even when more tears began to fall.
“It’s crazy, right?” Yeosang whispered. “How old do you think that poster is? Five years? Six?”
Wooyoung didn’t verbally respond to that either. Instead he brought both his hands up to cover his face, and when Yeosang heard the sharp intake of breath, he knew he was crying.
Yeosang laughed again, breathy and somewhat broken, before he tugged Wooyoung so that his head was laying on his chest. “I know, Wooyoung, I know,” he murmured, patting Wooyoung’s head. “It’s hard, seeing that and not being able to do anything about it. We’ve already come so far.” He chuckled once again. “I guess the me from four years ago would probably take the poster and run around the city and scream, ‘It’s me! I’m Kang Yeosang! This is me!’”
Wooyoung let out a barely suppressed sob.
Yeosang carded his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair. “But I can't do that now, can I, Wooyoung? I’ve been with Hongjoong for the best part of three years now, and I’m good friends with everyone on Light. Hongjoong, Yunho, Jongho, San, Mingi. I love them all, too much to even think about going back to Lotus. I don’t yearn for that life anymore. I’m not scared of pirates anymore. I’m not an orphan anymore, not when I have a family. This family.”
Yeosang wondered when it stopped. He wondered at what point the drive to make it back to Lotus began diminishing, at one point there was nothing left. He supposed he would never be able to find out, since he didn’t want to go back anymore. The one thing he did know was why he wanted to stay.
Yeosang rubbed a hand up and down Wooyoung’s back. He felt Wooyoung’s tears dampen his shirt. Yeosang felt sad, in a completely new way, and he couldn’t decide if he liked it or not.
“I’m not a sheltered teenager anymore,” Yeosang told him. “I’ve made lifelong friends on this ship, and I don’t plan on leaving them anytime soon. I’ve got you, the crew, and the Lord, and I think that’s enough for me. And I’m sure that the same can be said for you.”
Wooyoung cried into his chest for the rest of the evening. At some point, Yeosang joined him.
***
The Light’s Revenge landed in Jakarta, Indonesia on a warm evening. Yeosang and Wooyoung were waiting in their cabin for Hongjoong’s orders for what they would do in the city. They are 22.
Yeosang sat on the edge of his bed, rereading one of his favourite chapters of their holy book. He felt Wooyoung creep up behind him and gently wrap his arms around his torso. Yeosang relaxed into his touch. This was normal for them.
“You’re always reading this chapter,” Wooyoung pointed out.
“Because I like it,” Yeosang replied. “I know you like chapter four.”
“That’s right.” Yeosang could hear the smile in his voice. Wooyoung pressed his cheek against Yeosang’s.
“San’s been going on and on about how he’s been seeing this woman that he met in Osaka. Says he can’t get her out of his head or something,” Wooyoung said absentmindedly.
“You know San, loving any and everyone he sees,” Yeosang responded. “It’s his greatest trait, but also his greatest flaw. He loves too much. It gets him hurt.”
“Yours is your innocence.” Yeosang felt Wooyoung’s cheeks lift against his in a smile. “It’s commendable that you’ve managed to remain as pure as you have, and yet it backfires whenever we try to make dirty jokes around you.”
“I just pretend to be innocent like that. I actually do know what you’re talking about whenever you talk like that.”
“Is that so? You said the same thing to you being ticklish.”
“Don’t you dare—”
Too late. Yeosang burst into a fit of laughter as Wooyoung poked and prodded at his stomach. In the process he dropped the book, gasping when he heard the thud of it hitting the ground. Yeosang freed himself from Wooyoung’s grasp and dived to pick the book up, putting it back on the shelf. They had strict protocol about not leaving their holy books on dirty places, such as the ground.
“Sorry,” Wooyoung said in the breath of a laugh. “You’re just too funny.”
Yeosang gave him a sardonic smile. He lightly flicked Wooyoung on the shoulder.
“I should probably go tell Hongjoong-hyung that we’re ready to depart,” said Wooyoung, standing up. “Can't imagine what exactly it is that he’s doing right now.”
“He could be in danger.”
“Oh, you and your pessimistic self, dampening the mood as always.” Wooyoung grinned. “You’re lucky I can tolerate it. Someone else would probably kill you for it.”
“That makes it sound like you’ve considered killing me over it before.”
“Oh, most definitely.”
Yeosang rolled his eyes. “Take your sword and your mask. Stay safe.”
“Naw, now what?” Wooyoung teased. “Are you gonna kiss me goodbye in case I don’t return?”
“Don’t even say that.” Yeosang lightly pinched Wooyoung’s shoulder again.
Wooyoung only laughed and looped an arm around Yeosang’s waist and brought him closer to him. Yeosang was left stunned for a second when Wooyoung planted a kiss on Yeosang’s forehead, smiling as he did so.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Wooyoung mumbled. “I’ve made it this far, right?”
Yeosang looked at the floor. “Right.”
Wooyoung left to look for Hongjoong. Yeosang went out to the quarterdeck for some fresh air. He couldn’t help but relive what happened in the cabin just then in his head. It was not uncommon for Wooyoung to kiss Yeosang on random parts of his face, and he even did it to other crew members.
He couldn’t shake off this odd sensation. He had felt this exact same way when Wooyoung had complimented his hair a while ago. A feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Yeosang was left confused in the face of his own emotions.
Wooyoung returned with Hongjoong by his side. Yeosang almost immediately noticed the tension that came off Hongjoong.
The whole crew was then called to the main deck.
“There is a man on the loose, and it seems as though he’s been kidnapping children of warlocks and witches off shoreline cities. People call him the Black Marksman.” Hongjoong’s voice was deep with authority. Everyone listened to him intently on instinct. “I’m not sure why the mariners are doing nothing about it, but I just got done talking to that bastard Park Seonghwa about forming an alliance and going after the guy together.”
Immediately there was chatter among the crewmen. Park Seonghwa? They had only seen the man once in passing, and every other time they had discussed him was in relation to how they would destroy him and his ship. Yeosang threw a worried glance at Wooyoung's way, then looked around at the port. No ship with his coat of arms came into sight.
Hongjoong brought them back to silence. “Don’t worry about him. He’s not getting that alliance, even if he hands me his whole ship. All you need to know now is that we’re starting a new journey. I’m going to need all of you—especially you, Kangho—to prepare the ship for another voyage. This could be our biggest one yet. We’re going to Shanghai to restock any supplies we need. And also find some leads.”
When Yeosang saw Hongjoong, he could tell he was tense, despite his voice sounding calm as he delivered the news. The large coat he wore, one of many that extended past his knees and was scrolled with fur details, made him look powerful, much like the captain he was, and yet his face gave away that something was troubling him. Yeosang tried not to think too much of it.
***
After leaving Jakarta, they spent the remainder of the week out at sea, sailing westward. Hongjoong tore the ship apart multiple times to make sure everything was in order and that they were well prepared for their journey, and Kangho being the boatswain was exhausted. Yeosang felt for him, and as they sat next to each other during dinner, Yeosang offered him a portion of his food, knowing he would need the extra energy. The boatswain took what was given to him gratefully.
They weren’t to change directions anytime soon, so Mingi and Wooyoung joined them at the dining table for the evening and ate to their hearts’ content. Hongjoong decided to sit out from eating with them this evening, and Yeosang could only guess that he was plotting what they would do next. Hongjoong had proven he worked best when he was alone. They would not disturb him unless need be.
The table was jittery with chatter. Yeosang quietly kept to himself, silently eating unless something one of them said elicited a laugh out of him.
“Don’t think I forgot the grip that one man had on you back in Jeju,” San said accusingly towards Yunho. “I couldn’t sleep for days, he would just go on and on about him.”
Yunho laughed, a red flush staining his cheeks. “That was a long time ago. I can't believe you even remember that.”
“Hell, even I remember that,” Jongho chimed in. “Did you know you talk in your sleep? Heard you talking once like—” Here, Jongho imitated a lewd sound that caused the whole table to burst into a fit of laughter. Though Yeosang thought the joke was rather inappropriate, he, too, couldn’t hide his amusement.
“You lot are too inappropriate for your own good,” remarked Geobum from opposite Yeosang. A tall, muscular man, he was their shipwright. “Only Yeosang-ssi is just about the purest person on this ship.”
Yeosang gave a sheepish smile and lowered his head.
“Oh, but it’s true!” said Geobum, and he sounded enthusiastic. “I doubt our Yeosang-ssi has even had a wet dream before.”
At the vulgar statement, Yeosang pursed his lips. He heard a few of the crewmen chuckle amongst themselves.
“I doubt that’s true,” chimed in another crewman. “Yeosang-ssi is a man! A very well developed one at that!”
Geobum laughed. “Sure doesn’t act like one.”
It was then that Yeosang realised Geobum was actually insulting him. He frowned. Innocently, Yeosang said, “But I am.”
At this, Geobum raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny,” was all he said, but it was enough for Yeosang to recognise the sardonicism Geobum was directing towards him.
Easily within a minute the table resumed its loud chatter. There was a lump in Yeosang’s throat. He looked down at his plate, all the food already having been eaten. Without thinking twice, he stood up, said a quick, “Thank you for the food,” to their cook and left the dining room.
The cold night air that greeted him was bliss, and he had realised only in that moment how hot his skin was. He let out the breath he was holding in as he strode to the edge of the main deck. As he gazed at the sea beneath him, he couldn’t help the sudden tears at his waterline. He scrambled to get rid of them, but failed when he realised it was too late and he was already crying.
Geobum, and a few others were among the few jesters on the ship. It was obvious as soon as Geobum joined them around two years ago that this was just his nature, pointing out the many characteristics of everyone and poking fun at it. At first Yeosang thought it was harmless, measly little words uttered into the air that had no real value. But as the insults piled up on top of each other over time, Yeosang found it difficult to ignore, especially when he realised most of this jesting from Geobum was directed at him.
Yeosang shouldn’t have bothered with worrying about it, especially considering his power over Geobum. Yeosang was the quartermaster and Geobum only a shipwright, and yet Yeosang didn’t feel the need to make that discrimination. Innately he felt as though everyone played their part on this ship and no one was of less value than the other. It was for this reason Yeosang did not fight back. And he didn’t want to provoke people where he didn’t need to.
The sound of footsteps approaching made Yeosang look up. Upon seeing Wooyoung, he took a step back.
Wooyoung looked concerned immediately. “Yeosang? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” came Yeosang’s practised response, right from the tip of his tongue. “Sorry. I just needed some air.”
“Are you okay?”
Yeosang wanted to say yes, but that would be futile, he knew. Wooyoung had already seen him shed tears, saying yes would only make him more concerned. Instead Yeosang gave him silence.
He could hear Wooyoung take a step forward. Yeosang didn’t have to look back to notice that he was right behind him. “Do you want to talk about it?” asked Wooyoung.
Yeosang did want to talk about it. But he realised that doing so would go against his philosophy about not complaining about things, and keeping as less hate in his heart as possible. People talk about things out loud when they feel deeply about something, and Yeosang didn’t want it to seem like he felt deeply about Geobum teasing him, knowing he would eventually overcome this. Albeit not very quickly, but he wouldn’t dwell on it forever.
“It’s just.” Yeosang’s voice was watery with tears. “It’s a little ironic to me that this is just Lotus all over again.” Wooyoung was silent for a moment, but Yeosang knew that he knew what he was referring to. “I just… wish people would take me a little more seriously. I just—” Yeosang paused and choked on a sob.
Almost immediately Wooyoung stood before him. Yeosang cried as Wooyoung lifted both of his hands and wiped his tears away silently, patiently.
“It’s a bit difficult when no one else on this ship takes celibacy as seriously as us,” Yeosang said, his voice trembling horribly. “No one understands what it means to us—it’s significance…”
Wooyoung gave a sympathetic look. “I agree.”
“And—and I just wish people didn’t trample all over me knowing that I won’t fight back,” Yeosang went on. “Just because I don’t like arguing doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, that I won’t get hurt.”
Yeosang was so overwhelmed with his emotions that he was surprised he was able to speak at all. He felt horrible like this, being so vulnerable and complaining about something that he would eventually forget about, much like with the things that he didn’t like to focus on. He would never devote much of his attention to things that he knew would cause him pain or turmoil of any kind, and he felt useless complaining about this.
“I understand,” Wooyoung said after a long moment. Yeosang tried to look into his eyes through what he could see, with his vision obscured by tears. Wooyoung gave him a small smile, the same one he normally did whenever he tried to comfort someone.
The words whirred around in his head like a wheel. Wooyoung did understand, because he had dealt with Yeosang facing this sort of situation before, back in Lotus like he had mentioned. Even when they were younger, his peers often took him as the boy who would not fight back because he was too nice to do so, and eventually became the ground that people could step on whenever they felt like it, knowing he wouldn’t step back. Wooyoung’s words were not hollow, and this of all things Yeosang was sure of.
“Apologies,” Yeosang whispered. He held Wooyoung’s wrists where they were still on his face and lowered them. “I feel silly now. You always see me cry like this. It must be tiring for you.”
Wooyoung chuckled. “And I will always come and wipe your tears away. I’m not tired. You’re my best friend. I think this is my duty.”
His words were like a warm hug in the harsh wind. Yeosang managed a small smile in gratitude.
Wooyoung held out his palm. Yeosang looked down upon it for a second before you instinctively laid his own on it. Wooyoung clasped both of their hands together.
“Your feelings are valid. You’re aware of this, aren’t you?” Wooyoung said. “And if you’re not I hope you know that I’m here to remind you of that. If you want me to tell off Geobum I’ll—”
“No,” Yeosang cut in. “No confrontation, please.”
Wooyoung bared his teeth in a laugh. “Very well, whatever pleases you. But my sentiment still stands. You’re allowed to feel hurt by someone. What use is bottling up your emotions like this knowing you’ll be hurt, that you’ll cry?”
“I don’t like having to complain,” Yeosang said.
“But you like being a pushover?” Wooyoung countered. “Even if you don’t like complaining, tell me. Tell me everything that’s bothering you so that you don’t have to think about it again. I’ll always be here to listen to you.”
Looking at Wooyoung like this, his words of affirmation, his bright and optimistic eyes and beautiful face underneath the moonlight and hair being blown to the side by the breeze, caused a mass to settle in Yeosang’s stomach. It was at this moment he knew, knew how well he could depend on Wooyoung. The knowledge that he had a best friend, the surety of his genuine concern and affection for him. Suddenly it felt as though Yeosang could never complain about anything, so long as Wooyoung was with him.
***
Shanghai looked different from the last time Yeosang and Wooyoung had been there. Yeosang could recognise the broader framework of the same shoreline city, but there were particular nuances that set the place apart from all those years ago. The stand from where they had purchased their clothes from was now replaced with a stand packed to the brim with hot street food. Yeosang was all but itching to buy some when he realised how freezing it was outside. But they had work to do.
The primary reason they were in Shanghai was to restock for a journey that only seemed to look longer as they realised the gravity of the situation they were in. It just so happened that Hongjoong had a close friend residing in Shanghai. Yet another Korean who had once been part of the world of pirates, but was now making a living off teaching young children martial arts.
It wasn’t difficult to restock. Hongjoong and Kangho continually revised what they would need for the journey, oftentimes asking for Yeosang’s opinion on the choices they were making. Half the day hadn’t even passed by the time they had refilled their requirements for food and artillery. It was now time to go meet Hongjoong’s friend. Hongjoong recruited Yeosang, Wooyoung, Kangho and Jongho to accompany him.
The man in question resided a little father away from the beaches that lined the coast of Shanghai, supposedly in a house a little deep into a quiet residential area.
The house was quaint, though a single person living by themselves shouldn’t have needed too much extra space. Yeosang took up the duty of knocking on the door.
Behind the door was a tall, muscly man. He was taller than Yeosang had expected him to be, with broad shoulders and a surprisingly welcoming look on his face. He did not look at Yeosang, but to his side, where Hongjoong was.
“Hongjoong!” greeted the man. He had a bright smile that lifted his eyes so that they looked like little crescent moons on his face. “Come in, come in! Long time no see, brother!”
“Nice to see you again, Juyeon.” Behind his mask, Hongjoong smiled. Yeosang briefly wondered to himself how close the captain and Juyeon would have been that they would refer to each other on a first name basis, but didn’t let his mind run amock. Hongjoong led his men into Juyeon’s home. Much like the outside of his house, the inside wasn’t focused too much on extra space but rather things that were there to serve its purpose. There was minimal decoration, and yet it felt homely.
Hongjoong took a seat opposite Juyeon in the lounge area. The rest of Hongjoong’s men stood behind Hongjoong on the couch, flanking him like they did whenever the captain was out scouting his friends all over the world like this.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Black Marksman, Juyeon,” Hongjoong began.
Juyeon solemnly nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ve been told he’s kidnapped one of your students.”
“Yes.” Juyeon looked a little sad. “And I’ve heard from others you’ve taken on the task of bringing him down.”
“That is true. Now, have you seen him? The Marksman?”
Juyeon nodded. “He was dressed in all black.” Like his namesake, Yeosang thought idly to himself. “He had a mask on, like you. At first I thought he was part of Seonghwa’s crew because of his attire, but it turns out that same day he had snatched poor Yixing right from the hands of her father.”
There was a tense silence hanging over them. Yeosang noticed Hongjoong staring into his lap, no doubt evaluating what Juyeon had just told him.
“This might seem far fetched, but do you think you have any idea where he might have went after that?” Hongjoong asked.
“I’ve been told he sailed to Hong Kong.”
Hongjoong and Juyeon went on like this, exchanging information and questions. If there was room to crack a joke, they would, but otherwise their conversation remained stagnant in its subject. Juyeon had a nice voice to listen to—an interesting octave in between deep and high pitched. He was very straightforward in his speech, not bothering to utter a word that may have been deemed useless. Yeosang could tell from the way he carried himself that he was not scared of Hongjoong, which was a shocking thing to see, considering how many supposed friends of Hongjoong’s Yeosang had come across that were intimidated by him.
Their exchange ended quickly, and with a warm smile Juyeon bade Hongjoong goodbye and wished him good luck on their journey. On his way out, Hongjoong said, “I’ll bring back Yixing for you. This, I promise you.”
The small portion of the crew quietly made their way around the residential area. Yeosang asked Hongjoong, “How do you know Juyeon-ssi?”
“He was with me when I was part of a South Indian pirate ship. He was the only other Korean person there and that’s how we became friends. We parted ways after I joined the other Korean ship as quartermaster, but I made sure to keep in touch with him.”
Yeosang pondered over his story for a while. He spoke of Juyeon rather highly, and it was understandable why—Juyeon carried himself with high esteem and seemed as though he had earned that himself. He deserved all the respect he had.
It took Wooyoung suddenly falling to the ground with a loud thud to bring Yeosang back to the present.
Yeosang immediately pulled his pistol out and aimed it in front of him. Once Yeosang was sure the rest of them brought their weapons out, Yeosang cautiously hunkered down next to Wooyoung to see what had happened. He just barely managed to bite back a gasp as he saw the head of an arrow buried in the front of his shoulder. Wooyoung grunted as he crudely pulled the arrowhead out, the action creating a horrible squelching sound. A surface level wound. Wooyoung would recover.
Wordlessly Yeosang stood back up and readjusted his stance. He looked around, and surrounding them were a ring of men dressed in black, all leveling Hongjoong’s crew with their own guns and hard glares.
From behind a nearby tree, a tall man materialised. He looked almost regal with the way he walked, donning an intricately designed coat that extended to his calves with a black corset tied to his midriff. He had silver hair, but it didn’t look like a result of age. No, the man was young; Yeosang guessed around their age. His hands were decked in leather gloves, but he was seemingly unarmed. Yeosang’s hold on his pistol tightened.
From next to him, Hongjoong scoffed. “Fuck. You again?”
With bitter taste in his mouth, Yeosang realised the man directing this attack on them was Park Seonghwa.
“Yes, me.” Park Seonghwa smiled without his teeth, and there was something so sinister about him having the nerve to smile when he’d just taken such a huge leap by immediately injuring part of his enemy before whatever he wanted to do. Taking from what Hongjoong had told them previously about Seonghwa wanting to form an alliance, Yeosang guessed this was to negotiate. “Hello again, our fabled Silver-toothed Phoenix.”
Hongjoong glared at Seonghwa. “You knew I was coming to Shanghai.” Not a guess so much as a hateful string of words.
“Oh, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa purred, the pitch of his voice heightened to a rather sickening degree. Yeosang’s skin crawled at it. “Ever the narcissistic captain, your head is so far up your ass that you think everything I do revolves around you. Juyeon is my friend as well, you know.” Seonghwa took a step forward, and all Hongjoong’s men braced themselves. “I happened to be leaving Shanghai, when I caught sight of your coat of arms in the air. A good pirate takes advantages where he seems fit, no?” Another menacing grin. “You can guess why I’m here, Hongjoong.”
“Yeah, and it’s so that I can kill you off once and for all,” replied Hongjoong.
“Now, what is this?” Seonghwa’s tone was cloying. “Already threatening me? I haven’t even begun negotiating yet.”
“No, you already have,” said Hongjoong. “You knew I was going to be here. Then you put an arrow through one of my men to get my attention, then outnumber us so that you can tell us we have no choice but to comply with you.” The captain’s eyes were hard, the kohl lining them only seeming to enhance his visible anger. “You’re too predictable.”
“I suppose that is true,” and it was so absurd that he could be so sarcastic with his flattery but also be so candid like this. Yeosang was annoyed that Seonghwa could navigate talking to Hongjoong like this so easily. It felt like a giant step away from normalcy when suddenly Hongjoong and his crew weren’t the only ones with a superior skill set that guaranteed a win in a fight. “At least now you’ve saved me from talking about how I’ve outnumbered you and whatnot. Now it’s time for you to say yes to my offer.”
“I have no reason to say yes.”
“And why is that?”
“You put an arrow through one of my men. Cornered me when I’m not looking. In fact, I have every right to put a bullet straight through your head.”
“If I die, you will die.”
It was the other way around as well, Yeosang knew. If Seonghwa killed Hongjoong, his crew would kill him.
All was silent for another moment. Yeosang’s hands were becoming clammy, and he nearly dropped his pistol on the ground.
It was Seonghwa who spoke up. “The next arrow will go through your quartermaster.”
As if on cue, Seonghwa shifted his gaze over to Yeosang.
Yeosang glared at Seonghwa. The sound of Wooyoung shifting uncomfortably on the ground below him was just a dull reminder that Seonghwa had put him there in the first place. He was angry now. As a firm believer of fate, Yeosang knew he would embrace death as it came to him, but he would defend himself and his loved ones if it seemed fit nonetheless.
“I’ll come with you. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
Yeosang’s head snapped to Hongjoong. The captain looked only remotely resigned. Yeosang felt panic strike his chest.
Seonghwa’s smile was bigger this time, but instead of being filled with happiness like a smile should have, Yeosang saw the malice behind it. Seonghwa made a gesture with his hand, and the ring of men around them lowered their weapons. Not long after, so did Hongjoong’s crew.
“We will go back to the shore,” Seonghwa declared, “and make our formal alliance there. No papers, no writing. Just your word.”
***
The walk back to their vessel was tense, though that by itself seemed like a colossal understatement.
Park Seonghwa and his crew watched Hongjoong’s every step of the way, waiting for them to make the wrong move. Yeosang understood the need for surveillance, but didn’t understand the logic that Seonghwa would attack them—most likely kill—if they were to deviate in any way. Not only would Hongjoong’s crew be lost that way, but Seonghwa would lose the very thing he was searching for—Hongjoong’s cooperation—and all at the hands of himself.
When they reached the beach, Yeosang couldn’t help but inwardly gawk at what was in front of him. The Aurora’s Reign was as great of a vessel as Light, with ginormous masts that carried the ship through the same seas as Hongjoong’s own ship. The wood was painted darker and it all but seemed to be a gigantic black mass right in front of them. Underneath the bowsprit was the wooden carving of a panther, its four legs spread out in mid-leap, its mouth wide in a roar.
Yeosang was not surprised to see that the remaining crew in Light had been forced to listen to them against their will as well by the remainder of Seomghwa’s crew. Yeosang only grew more angry, but learned to contain it well. Almost as if all these years of piracy and time at the orphanage both trained him for this moment.
The whole ordeal was rather awkward. Yeosang caught Wooyoung’s eyes many times and hoped that his eyes could communicate his regret that he hadn’t been able to protect him well enough.
By the time both of the crews were standing aboard Light’s main deck, the sun was already beginning to sink behind the sea.
“You have no choice now,” remarked Seonghwa. Both he and Hongjoong were facing each other’s crews. Not everyone was here—Wooyoung left to the infirmary with Jongho by his side. Geobum and Mingi stood in their place. Those present from Seonghwa’s crew were also small in number. Surely some of them weren’t here right now. “I don’t understand why you would decline. Especially now.”
Hongjoong scowled. Of all people, he was the most bothered by this. All this time he had been used to being at the top. For someone to suddenly take it away from him like this and share it was beyond anything he had experienced. Yeosang could only imagine how angry he was. “You talk too much shit.”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes. Without saying a word, he held out his gloved hand towards Hongjoong, waiting for the other to shake it. Hongjoong didn’t.
Seonghwa looked pointedly at Hongjoong. “What? I’m not allowed to solidify this alliance by shaking hands with you?” Once again, that cloyingly sweet tone of his. “Don’t be immature, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong was still hesitant, despite Seonghwa’s prodding. Nevertheless, he reluctantly shook Seonghwa’s hand once.
The two captains separated just as quickly as they had joined. Seonghwa was about to return to his own ship, before Hongjoong called out.
“We sail under my orders,” he said. Yeosang felt a brief sense of relief that Hongjoong could do at least this much to maintain his power. “You’ve done enough. I think you owe me.”
Seonghwa smirked, devilish and so very aware of what he was doing. “Very well. Where should we sail to first?”
“Egypt, but we will make a stopover in Singapore and Sri Lanka.”
“Egypt,” Seonghwa echoed thoughtfully. “That’s very far away.”
“Yes, and that’s where we’re going to go.”
“It’s a very long journey. We might have to spend a month at sea, at least.”
“And I hear some Englishman took more than eight months to travel to Australia. Do not say things of no merit to me,” Hongjoong snarled. “I would hope that you thought this out beforehand and already got your ship prepared.”
“We’ve been prepared for a while.”
“Then?”
Seonghwa pondered over his words, then said, “All right. Have it your way then. We will voyage to Egypt. Stopovers at Singapore and Sri Lanka.”
Seonghwa and his crew left to their own ship, which they had anchored not too far away on the same beach. As soon as he knew they were gone for the day, Yeosang all but ran to the infirmary, the rest of them trailing behind him.
Wooyoung was there as Yeosang expected, being tended to by Yunho. A few others were also loitering there, talking to Wooyoung. Upon seeing them enter, the man in question smiled.
“How are you feeling?” asked Yeosang, sitting next to him on the bed. “Does it still hurt?”
“A little bit,” Wooyoung replied. “It was pretty superficial. You don’t need to worry.”
“He will still have to stay in the infirmary for a little while,” said Yunho. “I’ll have to keep him here to make sure his stitches don’t come undone. And also probably to make sure he doesn’t get gangrene. Otherwise, he’ll be fine.”
Yeosang felt relief like never before. Only when Yunho uttered these words did he feel as if a ginormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was tired. He wanted to reach out and hold Wooyoung’s hand.
Wooyoung looked at Hongjoong from across the room. “What did he say, hyung?” the younger asked. “Did you guys form that alliance?”
Hongjoong’s jaw was taut. It was clear he was still frustrated. “Yes.”
The room was quiet for another moment, before Yunho asked, “What will we do now?”
“Go to Egypt. We’ll make stopovers at Singapore first, then Sri Lanka.” Hongjoong eyed each of them carefully. “You all need to stay in line. Don’t go messing around with his crew or forming other alliances that’ll only get you into more trouble. Once we’ve captured the Marksman and have that dealt with, I’ll kill him.”
Yeosang didn’t know the degree of seriousness to Hongjoong’s words, but nodded solemnly nonetheless. He hoped to God Hongjoong knew what he was doing. There was a quiet series of “Aye, captain”.
“We will start now. We’ve already stocked up. There’s not much reason to keep stalling. Every minute wasted is another minute the Marksman is using to capture his next victim.”
They all nodded. Satisfied, Hongjoong bade them goodnight and departed to his quarters. One by one, the rest of them left the infirmary and wished Wooyoung to get well. Eventually, only Yunho and Yeosang remained.
Yunho had just gotten done cleaning up the site of injury. “Okay. Make sure to sleep on the side you’re not injured on, and if you feel any more pain you tell me, all right? We wouldn’t want your stitches coming undone now, do we?” Yunho pat Wooyoung’s head before he left the infirmary.
Wooyoung closed his eyes and laid his head back on the pillow. Yeosang stared at him. Even in this state of pain Yeosang thought there was an effortless beauty to him. Some part of Yeosang felt an inexplicable attraction to him—just by looking at Wooyoung he wanted to be around him.
It occurred to him he had never really thought about this before, and wondered why it only came into the limelight now.
Yeosang rested his chin on his hands. Maybe it was because they were too busy trying to survive that he hadn’t really considered his own feelings, what he wanted. A long time ago, it was trying to find parents that were willing to adopt them. Then, it was trying to go back home. Then, survival. Now…
“Yeosang,” Wooyoung murmured.
“Hm?”
“Come lay with me.”
Yeosang was silent. He gazed at Wooyoung’s body on the bed, then the small amount of space next to him that Yeosang could occupy. Laying in that bed with Wooyoung meant he would have to hold onto him if he didn’t want to fall off.
Yeosang was not about to get on that bed with him, especially knowing how he was feeling now and the ways his mind would wander if he was going to touch and hold Wooyoung like this. Maybe a while ago this would have been normal and Yeosang would have accepted the offer without a second thought. But right now was not a while ago.
“Sorry, Wooyoung,” Yeosang said instead. “I have to pray. I’ll be back once I’m done if you want, okay?”
Wooyoung didn’t open his eyes. He simply made a small noise of affirmation and nodded. Yeosang left the infirmary and said his prayers of the evening, but he didn’t go back to see Wooyoung that night.
***
The journey from Shanghai to Singapore seemed longer than it should have been. The crew aboard The Light’s Revenge stood wary at all times. Now that the alliance between them and Seonghwa’s crew had been solidified, there was tension everywhere. Yeosang felt as though they were inside a balloon, and that at one point suddenly there would be too much air, and it would burst.
It took Wooyoung two more weeks to return to the helm. Despite the fact that it was a relatively superficial wound, the injury toyed with his ability to use his arm properly without it hurting. Wooyoung was bitter over it, but Yeosang and Mingi coaxed him into calming down eventually.
Oftentimes when there was daylight out, Hongjoong and Yeosang would frequent the poop deck and forecastle, just to make sure that everything was running smoothly, anxious for the traps Seonghwa may have set for them. Sometimes, they saw Seonghwa from his own ship on the other side of theirs, and almost always he would flash Hongjoong and Yeosang a smile. Hongjoong, quick-witted as ever and very adamant about his hatred for Seonghwa, always replied with a frown. If he felt like it, he would make vulgar gestures his way as well.
On their eleventh night out at sea, a majority of the crew sat on the forecastle deck. On one side, a small group of them were playing with cards. Yeosang was sitting with San and Jongho, watching as Geobum and Kangho re-enacted a scene from a popular play they had read about.
“This is probably the closest we’ll get to normalcy while Park Seonghwa has us under his alliance,” remarked San. “Geobum and Kangho fooling around like the absolute idiots they are, Yunho beating Wooyoung at whatever card game they’re playing every single time. Wait, where’s Hongjoong-hyung?”
Jongho pointed over his shoulder. Hongjoong was sitting against the inner railing of the forecastle deck and had a book in his lap, but his head was drooping to the side. His mouth hung a little ajar as he slept. The anxiety that had plagued him was catching up to him, no doubt. Yeosang heard San stifle a laugh.
“Can you believe we’re even here? Like at all?” Jongho said. “If it weren’t for Seonghwa, we would probably be on vacation to the Maldives or something.”
“And now,” said San, “we’re on our toes waiting for whatever Seonghwa has already planned. Hongjoong-hyung can’t even do anything about it because it would probably look like he’s staging a mutiny. You guys notice that power imbalance too? Some fucking alliance this is.”
“I don’t like Seonghwa,” Jongho said. “At all. Not only did he hurt Wooyoung, but he…”
“He what?” San asked.
“I don’t know. Every time I look at him it seems like he wants me to punch him.”
Yeosang smiled, and he could share Jongho’s sentiment, though to a lesser degree. He didn’t want to punch Seonghwa whenever he saw him, but he was cautious of him at all times. Knowing he was ruthless enough to order his crewmen to shove an arrow into Wooyoung stuck to his mind like a horrible memory he couldn’t get rid of, no matter how often he prayed before bed to forget.
He wouldn’t tell anyone this, but he was willing to give Seonghwa the benefit of the doubt if he proved that he was only in this for the alliance and not so that he could take down Hongjoong. Innately Yeosang believed people could be inherently good, and Seonghwa wasn’t entirely an exception. Maybe he and Hongjoong would become friends by some miracle and bond over this journey, though it wasn’t likely. Even then, Yeosang would still be suspicious of Seonghwa.
Kangho moving around the space in front of Yeosang jarred him out of his thoughts. Kangho said, “A miracle! Here’s our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light, I take thee for pity.” He took Geobum’s hands and placed it against his chest, where his heart was.
“I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption,” said Geobum. Yeosang could just barely comprehend what he was saying. Part of him thought they were speaking utter nonsense.
Kangho crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Geobum’s waist. “Peace, I will stop your mouth,” he said, before kissing Geobum on the mouth.
There was a tremendous explosion of voices among the crowd of people on the deck. San and Jongho hollered and clapped their hands, and from the corner of his eye, Yeosang saw Yunho, Mingi and Wooyoung toppling over, laughing. The rest of the crewmen gave hearty cheers and applauded their performance.
With a dull heat on his cheeks, Yeosang realised Geobum and Kangho were still kissing.
If Wooyoung were to kiss Yeosang like that—
Yeosang stopped the thought from continuing any further. No. No. There was no possible way for that to happen. He wasn’t even sure where the thought came from or why he thought it. He tried not to think about it, but as he tried to think about not thinking about it, he thought about it anyway.
He was horrified with himself. Why would he ever think of something like this happening? Wooyoung was Yeosang’s best friend. He couldn’t ruin their relationship by advancing towards him romantically. Then again, it wasn’t as if either Yeosang or Wooyoung could do that in the first place. Abstinence before marriage was a strict rule they had been abiding by their whole lives. If Yeosang wanted to kiss Wooyoung, he would have to be married to him first.
He was still thinking about this.
Before he realised he was even doing it, Yeosang glanced slightly to the side. He was gauging Wooyoung’s reaction. The man in question was idly gazing at the two up front, a smirk on his face. Yeosang’s gaze dropped to his lips.
He looked away before his mind wandered any further.
“Yeosang-hyung?”
Jongho’s voice startled Yeosang. “Yes?”
“You blanked out.” Jongho playfully smiled. “Thinking of kissing Geobum, too?”
Yeosang grimaced. “Absolutely not.”
***
It was nighttime by the time they reached the shore of Singapore. Yeosang stood behind the railing of the forecastle, sighing as the breeze greeted him. He could see faint splotches of light from the horizon, Singapore’s skyline.
In around an hour they arrived at the harbour. Hongjoong and Seonghwa led their crews—at least, those who weren’t staying back on the ships—ashore. Yeosang felt calmer knowing they were in the presence of other citizens, and that Seonghwa trying anything on them would be suicide for him if he didn’t want to get caught.
“You are free to explore the city of Singapore as you wish for the night,” said Hongjoong. He was talking to both crews. “Remember, keep yourselves low and don’t attract too much attention to yourselves. Do whatever the hell you want, I don’t really care. Just be back by morning. We’ll be leaving then.”
Yeosang nodded, as did the rest of them. Seonghwa’s crew did not want to refer to Hongjoong as their captain.
”Aye, Captain Hong,” San smirked.
Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at him. “Never call me that.”
”You love it.” San grinned wider and fluttered his eyes cloyingly.
”If the mariners won’t kill you, I will,” Hongjoong seethed, but Yeosang saw the mirth in his eyes. San let out a hearty laugh.
As soon as Hongjoong was done talking, Wooyoung grabbed Yeosang and Mingi’s arms and dragged them through the harbour and into the city neighbouring the sea. San, Jongho and Yunho followed not too far behind them.
It just so happened that they’d run into some sort of communal party. The streets were decorated with various trinkets and lanterns and it was so colourful that Yeosang almost felt momentarily blinded by the sight. The crowd was dense and loud—Yeosang found himself reaching a hand out to latch onto San’s shirt in case he got lost.
Wooyoung and Yunho ran elsewhere, possibly to see if they could find food. Jongho and Mingi left to the side where they found a group of children to play with. San smiled at Yeosang. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said playfully.
“You saw me five minutes ago.”
“Naw, Yeosang.” San lifted a hand to tickle Yeosang on the stomach. The latter flinched so hard he nearly bumped into another citizen. “Sometimes you’re so boring. I think it’s kind of cute.”
San was very clearly teasing him, but Yeosang merely laughed and pinched part of his shoulder. San yelped and chased Yeosang around the dense group of people around them. It was only in this moment that Yeosang realised they had run into someone’s wedding.
After a moment they stopped chasing each other, and Yeosang was pleasantly out of breath. They sat on an empty table, watching as the guests of the wedding carried out their celebrations. Yeosang couldn’t spot the bride or groom, but figured they would probably be elsewhere carrying out other parts of the event.
“You seem very quiet lately,” San remarked.
“I’m usually pretty quiet,” Yeosang responded.
“Wooyoung says he’s worried about you.”
Wooyoung. Wooyoung, who Yeosang now realised was sitting on another table on the other side of the street with Jongho. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I’m sure you do.” San smiled deep enough that it revealed his dimples. “You lot aren’t allowed to do any, erm, romantic activities before marriage aren't you?”
Yeosang hoped he wasn’t asking him this in relation to Wooyoung. “Correct.”
“Does that include hugging?”
“You can hug them. Erm, with moderation.”
“So… no getting to know each other before marriage? Physically, I mean?”
“Yes, pretty much.”
“Not even—” Here, San made a gesture with his hands that Yeosang had to work to stifle his laugh at.
“Not even… that.”
“So you just get married not knowing that you might be signing up for a rather underwhelming sex life?”
“Yes—though sex isn’t the only important thing about marriage, is it? At least not really,” he added as an afterthought.
San nodded, and Yeosang was tempted to laugh at the nonplussed expression on his face. “I just realised I haven’t even asked you this. Do you ever plan on getting married anyway?”
If Yeosang were to get married, it would probably be to someone travelling with them on the ship. It wasn’t reasonable that he would pick someone up who was living inland and then marry them, not when Yeosang was committed to seafaring with Hongjoong. It wouldn’t be fair to either party, so Yeosang decided it was only fair that he would keep his spouse close.
“Maybe if I fall in love,” Yeosang said. “What about you?”
San laughed. “First I have to stop falling in love with everyone I see for that to happen.”
Yeosang smiled back. “Do you love someone right now?”
There was a moment’s hesitation before he spoke. “I think so, yes.”
“What’s her name?”
“His,” San corrected.
“Oh. Apologies.”
San gave a noncommittal gesture with his hand. “Don’t worry about it. But yeah.”
Yeosang was surprised. For the most part that they had been friends, San seemed to have an affinity for women, even though it wasn’t very often that they would meet women outside of the ship in the first place. But he would accept San nevertheless. It only made San more admirable that his heart was so big he was capable of loving a woman and a man.
“Do I know him?” Yeosang asked.
“I don’t think you do.”
“Will I ever meet him?”
“Maybe one day.” San’s smile returned to his face.
Yeosang took the brief silence between them as his opportunity to study Wooyoung once again.
He was talking to Yunho and Mingi, grinning that ever familiar smile Yeosang had seen so many times, but never could seem to get used to. Could never quite get enough of.
“Wooyoung, huh?”
Yeosang looked back at San. “Pardon?” But he had heard San clearly the first time.
“Seems as if you’ve already fallen in love, my friend.”
Yeosang choked on air. San was just venturing an obscure guess like he always was, and yet Yeosang didn’t know what to say in response to him. “I— no…”
San smirked, haughty. “I was joking, but my goodness… Our beloved Wooyoung?” The words sounded jesting, but his tone was light.
“He’s my best friend,” was all Yeosang could say in the end.
“I know he is. He’s my best friend too.”
“That’s correct.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
Yeosang couldn’t say anything. Again, he was at a loss for words. On instinct, he looked towards the side. The guests of the wedding were now dancing slow and rhythmically to some soft, mellow music playing in the background. One of the couples dancing together were sharing a kiss.
Yeosang sensed someone was looking at him, and when his eyes found Wooyoung, he found him already staring at him.
Wooyoung briefly gestured to the kissing couple with a wave of his hand, and there was a mischievous smile on his face. Directly looking at Yeosang while doing so, he mouthed, me and you.
Yeosang’s jaw dropped in shock. Wooyoung chuckled to himself before he turned back to Yunho and Mingi. Yeosang looked down on the surface of the table.
He couldn’t believe what just happened. Yeosang wanted to question whether Wooyoung had even really done that, or if it was just a figment of his imagination, but no. This had very much just happened.
Was Wooyoung toying with him?
No. That was absurd. Despite his jokester ways, Wooyoung wouldn’t do that to Yeosang of all people, knowing how serious he was about… that.
But what if? What if it was Yeosang and Wooyoung slow dancing in the middle of the street? Would Wooyoung kiss Yeosang like the woman had kissed her partner?
Yeosang clasped his hands together in his lap. Too much thinking.
“I saw that, you know.”
When Yeosang looked up, he saw San had yet another grin on his face. “Yeah?”
“You like him.”
Yeosang couldn’t say anything. He knew what he was feeling, but it was only the matter of divulging that to San.
“I suppose there’s no use in denying it now, is there?” Yeosang said, almost humiliated.
San laughed. “No, not really.”
Yeosang wanted to believe that maybe Wooyoung was just being playful, and that there was no real meaning behind what he’d just implied. But perhaps this was just the remnants of his childlike wonder that never really went away. Maybe he was being too inventive, too overbearing on his own thoughts. The ever imaginative Yeosang.