Chapter Text
Waves crashed harshly against the ship and water splashed onto the deck. Barrels that had failed to be secured rolled across the surface, forcing the sailors aboard to dodge them as they scrambled to take in the sails. The wind blew them towards an oncoming wave. They would capsize if they couldn’t steer out of it. Eijirou shouted over the pelting rain to give directions to his crew. He scrubbed his face, but his vision blurred heavier with every passing minute. There was no way to safely navigate through the storm.
It snuck up on them. Their navigator had been down the last several days due to a bad case of the flu. Bedridden and feverish, they were unable to warn of the oncoming storm. The skies had been clear all day but when dusk turned dark, the clouds crept in. Eijirou watched with wide eyes as the wave came down on them. “Take cover!” he shouted. He said a prayer as he clung to the steering wheel, hoping everyone would survive. A storm that bad in the middle of the ocean meant death. They would all drown.
As Eijirou clung to the helm, his shoulder jerked harshly from the water’s pressure. He was forced to let go, swept away with the water, and dragged into the depths of the ocean. With the pitch of night overhead, darkness enveloped him. Eijirou had no way of knowing which direction to swim in in order to reach the surface. The water tossed him around and he sank further. Salt water stung his eyes as he tried to see, hoping for a sign of where to go. His already darkened vision grew spotty, and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen.
Against better judgment, Eijirou opened his mouth, failing to take in air. He swallowed a mouthful of saltwater and felt his consciousness fade. Sailing had always been his life’s dream. It didn’t matter in what capacity—fisherman, merchant, naval officer, pirate. As long as his boots were on the worn wooden planks of a ship at sea, he was content. He set out to sea as a young man despite his uncle Taishiro’s protests. Toyomitsu Taishiro was Eijirou’s only living relative and now he would be carried away on the ocean currents without ever getting to see him again. He left home six years ago and it had only been one year since Eijirou managed to save up enough money to purchase his own ship. His crew hadn’t worked together for long, but they were all skilled in their own right. Little good it did them.
Be safe, everyone, thought Eijirou as the last bit of oxygen left his lungs and he blacked out. Davy Jones’s locker claims another soul. If only I had been stronger. When the sea calls, there is but one answer. The cries of the birds, the crash of the waves, and the cheers of the men, they all led to the water. It’s impossible to ignore the call, and Eijirou was lured like countless others. The ocean meant freedom and adventure, but it was also filled with perils. Eijirou had been fascinated by stories of great ship captains. They were strong and fearless, something he wasn’t. He set out to prove to himself that he could be different, that he would only return home once he was a worthy man. Now, he’d never get the opportunity to show anyone how much he had grown. Maybe he hadn’t grown at all…
Another storm, another life lost. Katsuki sat at the helm, watching as the ocean claimed more victims. She was a fickle bitch that made his immortal life insufferable. Katsuki lost count of how many ships had capsized in the last week. Storm season was in full swing. He sighed as he hunched over in the rain with his parchment and quill, jotting down the details of the wreck: single shipping vessel, twenty men, twelve drowned, three dead due to debris, remaining five alive.
He rolled up the parchment and stuck it in the inside pocket of his jacket. It was time to collect the souls. Katsuki stood, boots thumping against the wooden boards as he did. His crew lazed about the ship, unaffected by the weather, and he turned the ship hard to port. Katsuki called out, “All hands on deck, prepare to dive!” The others quickly jumped to work, taking in the sails and securing the cargo. The bow dipped forward as they set course for the massive wave that capsized the other ship. Waves crashed into their ship, but no one paid it any mind as they submerged.
They sank deeper into the ocean until the top of the mast was under water. A faint glow illuminated the ship, providing light to all that inhabited it. Out in the ocean, a guiding light that was only visible to Katsuki directed him to each of the lives that the sea had claimed. He steered the vessel to the closest body, unperturbed by the lack of oxygen. None of them needed it to breathe anymore.
“Starboard! Three o’clock!” shouted Katsuki, pointing to one of the bodies drifting in the current.
“On it, Cap’n!” called Sero, one of Katsuki’s crew members. His lanky arms cast a life preserver out into the water. It floated near the body and Katsuki watched the light of the soul drift towards it. A few seconds passed, then a shimmering figure appeared to cling to the life preserver. Sero pulled them aboard the ship and readied the line to be cast out for the next soul to be collected.
Katsuki walked down the steps from the helm to the deck and approached the soul. Lifeless eyes blinked at him repeatedly and looked around the ship, confusion etched in their ethereal features. “Welcome aboard the Flying Dutchman, the ferry ship to the netherworld.” The spirit opened its mouth to speak but only bubbles came out. “Don’t bother,” said Katsuki, waving his hand at the soul. “You can’t talk.”
The spirit cocked its head to the side, staring curiously. Katsuki sighed. “Follow me.” It did. It floated in the water behind him, incorporeal feet hovering above the planks on the deck. Apprehension painted itself on the spirit’s face as it followed Katsuki, but the soul had no choice but to follow along. There was an invisible tether that tied them together. A shepherd and his sheep. Katsuki came to a stop in front of the door that led to the captain’s quarters.
A key hung like a heavy weight around his neck, and he lifted the cord it was tied to over his head. He stuck the skeleton key shaped like a wave into the door’s lock and twisted the handle. The door opened to reveal a light. What lay beyond was a mystery to both Katsuki and his crew. He was forever cursed from finding out, but they would eventually leave him and pass through as well. The spirit stared at the light with wide eyes, hesitant to step forward. Katsuki gestured forward.
“To your next life or whatever else awaits you.” The spirit took one silent step forward, then another, until it passed through the light and disappeared. Bubbles rose from where it had been, then Katsuki shut and locked the door once more. “Hurry up!” he shouted. “We’ve got more souls to collect.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” the crew hollered back.
They sailed the ship through the murky waters collecting each of the fallen sailors. Katsuki did his duty, ushering the lost souls into the afterlife, and his crew gathered any sunken supplies. There was plenty to be had from the wreck. Katsuki tallied off the lives collected on his parchment. Fourteen. They were one short. He squinted his eyes, searching the water for the familiar string of light that tied him to the souls.
“Hey! Does anyone see a body out there? We’re missing the ship’s captain.”
The others stopped what they were doing, each taking up posts along the railings to look out into the water in search of a missing person.
“It’s too dark, Captain!” called Ashido, his plucky navigator. She wrapped her fingers around the railing and lifted her body up, peering over the edge into the ocean’s depths.
“Don’t fall overboard, moron!” Retrieving his crew was a hassle in and of its own right. They wouldn’t drown, but the ocean currents were often quick to carry them away.
A flicker of red light drew Katsuki’s attention back out to the dark waters. The tether he had been searching for appeared though normally it was a greenish hue. In addition to the odd color, it kept disappearing. The souls of the dead always held a solid glow to connect him to them. Something was wrong, and Katsuki hated it when shit went wrong. He grabbed the helm and steered the ship hard to port. The light flickered again. There was only one answer Katsuki could come up with for the strange behavior, and that was that the ship captain hadn’t died yet.
Resilient bastard, he thought. How the fucker had managed to be under for as long as he did without succumbing to death was a mystery. “I’m going in!” Katsuki shouted.
“Are you sure?” asked Ashido.
“I don’t got time for your questions. He ain’t dead. Surface the ship. I’ll catch up with you.” Katsuki hung his hat on the helm and ran down the few steps that separated him from the deck.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Ashido walked past him to take up the helm. “Prepare to surface!” she called out to the others.
Katsuki dove over the railing and kicked his feet. He let the red glow guide his way as he swam. The light flickered more frequently as he grew closer. Floating in the icy ocean waters was the lifeless body of the captain. Red hair fanned out around his head and his tanned skin looked pale. Katsuki hooked his arm around the man’s waist and summoned the powers of the ocean that had been given to him as part of his curse. An ocean current rose up, pulling them in, and Katsuki rode the current to the closest sea cave.
It spit him out into the cave, a little pocket of oxygen beneath the ocean floor. A pool of water sat in the middle of the cave, their only way in and out. Katsuki laid the man on the damp stone floor. Red bangs covered his forehead, and Katsuki brushed them out of his face. A small scar above his right eye, the only blemish on his otherwise perfect skin. Something about it resonated with Katsuki; a long-forgotten memory tried to needle its way to the forefront of his brain. Katsuki shook it off.
He leaned over the man and tilted his lifeless neck. Katsuki pressed his lips to the cold, salty ones on the drowned captain and blew, forcing air into the man’s lungs. He pulled his head away and began chest compressions. Any other day, Katsuki would have just let the man fully die so that he could claim his soul and be done with it but that strange red glow he emitted threw Katsuki off his game. He would save the stranger, figure out what was different about him, then collect his soul. Katsuki could always make him walk the plank. Hell, the man might go willingly. Everyone that ever dared set out to see knew the legend of the Dutchman and feared encountering the “ghost ship.” This captain wouldn’t be any different.
After two minutes, the man violently turned his head to the side and coughed up a lungful of water. His eyes remained shut but the steady rise and fall of his chest let Katsuki know the man was finally breathing on his own.
Eijirou woke up feeling exhausted. His body hurt all over, his muscles ached, his throat burned, his eyes stung, and his head was pounding in his skull. The temperature was cold wherever he was, coupled with his soaking wet clothes, left him chilled to the bone. He tried to sit up. It took every ounce of energy he had in him to get his body upright. Eijirou blinked his eyes open. Water droplets clung to his lashes, and he was forced to wipe them away with the back of his hand.
“He’s awake,” said a soft, sweet voice. A hand petted his thigh, and a cold body clung to his shoulder.
“How lovely,” said another voice. The body pressed against his side whispered in his ear. “Congrats, sailor.” It was feminine and light.
Eijirou blinked again, trying to take in his surroundings. Wherever he was, it was dimly lit. He sat on a wet, stone floor and there was a pool of water in front of him. Two female figures draped over him, and he swallowed thickly. “H—” His voice cracked, raw from the saltwater that filled his lungs.
“Shh,” the first voice cooed. “No need to speak.” There was something strangely hypnotic about the pair of feminine voices. His body, already tired and weary, Eijirou found himself drawn to them for comfort. One of the women stroked his cheek and he leaned into the touch. “That’s it,” she said. “Come with us. We’ll take care of you.”
Eijirou nodded, too tired to speak. They dragged him towards the water as they began to sing. A warning bell in the back of his mind said to be wary, that he was in danger, but Eijirou was too exhausted to register it. The women serenaded him as he slid into the pool. They tugged on his legs, pulling him under. He saw the swishing of large tails beneath the surface, but all he could think about was their lovely voices. Just as his head was about to go under, another voice cut through the song.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The angry cursing cut through the spell just enough for Eijirou to realize he was being pulled under. He floundered to keep his head above water, arms splashing wildly. The owner of the voice hoisted him up by the shoulders with an unusual amount of strength. “Get the fuck out of here you damn sirens, or I’ll take your heads and mount them on my ship! This one is mine!”
The women—sirens—looked at each other before releasing Eijirou’s legs. The fog he felt from the moment he woke up lifted as he was dragged out of the water, back onto the stone floor. He blinked, now able to take in the actual features of the women that had been touching him. Sirens were not like mermaids. They used their voices to hypnotize sailors into believing they were beautiful. They had hair made of seaweed and clammy, translucent skin. The nails on their fingers were long and sharp like claws and their mouths were filled with razor-sharp teeth. Pitch black eyes stared at Eijirou, and he swore he saw a look of pity on their faces.
“At least we would have been merciful. It’s a lot better to be drowned and eaten than spirited away,” said one of the sirens. With a splash of their tails, the two sirens dove deeper underwater and disappeared from sight.
Eijirou was thankful that he didn’t end up a victim to the sirens. He turned to thank his savior. How did the stranger manage to keep himself from falling victim to their song? As he lifted his gaze, he was met with a stern frown from the handsomest blond he had ever met. He gulped, throat still dry and irritated from the saltwater. “I—uh—thank you,” he stammered.
“Tch. It’s whatever.” The man folded his arms over his chest and looked away. “I step away for five minutes to take a leak and you almost become fish food. Fucking ridiculous.”
Eijirou glanced around again, finally able to take in his surroundings properly. They must have been in an undersea cave. “Are you the one that saved me from drowning?” he asked.
The man glanced down at him. Wet, blond bangs clung to his forehead. Piercing red eyes, much like Eijirou’s, studied him carefully. “Twice, now. You fucking owe me.”
“Right! Of course.” Eijirou got to his feet, but his balance was unsteady. He nearly toppled over into the pool when the man caught him by the elbow and pulled him in, chests pressed together.
“You almost died twice! Don’t get up so damn fast, idiot.” He chided Eijirou.
Heat flushed Eijirou’s face, and he was thankful for the poor lighting in the cave. He swallowed thickly and gave the man a slow nod. “Right. Thanks, again.” The man let go of him and stepped away, taking all of his heat with him. “I’m Eijirou, by the way. I would give you the money I had on my ship as a reward but it’s all probably at the bottom of the ocean by now. We got hit with a bad storm and capsized.” Crestfallen, Eijirou dropped his gaze to the ground. His poor crew.
“I don’t need your money,” said the man.
Eijirou sniffled. He hoped everyone else managed to survive, though it was unlikely with how bad the weather had been. A shiver ran down his spine, reminding him that he was still soaking wet, and he rubbed his hands against his arms. Eijirou lifted his head to look at the man again. Those red eyes were still trained on Eijirou. “If th-there’s another way I can repay you for your kindness, just tell me. I may not look it, but I’m pretty strong.”
The man wet his lips and cocked his head to the side. “I can start us a fire so that you can warm up, but it won’t do you a lot of good since the only way out of this cave is back through the water. We’ll also get smoked out if we stay here too long.”
“Right…” Eijirou flicked his gaze between the man, the cave, and the pool. “How far is it to the surface?”
“One hundred meters or so.” The guy said casually.
“So far! H-how are we even still alive?” asked Eijirou with a shiver.
The man shoved his hands in his pockets and walked further into the cave. “You want the fire or not?”
“Y-yes, please.”
The man gathered some driftwood together that washed into the cave and stacked it into a neat pile. Eijirou didn’t see any way to light the wood on fire, but the man leaned forward, and then suddenly the logs burst into flames. They ignited so quickly it seemed like magic. Eijirou hurried forward, kneeling in front of the fire and holding his hands out to the flames to warm his body. His savior took a seat across from him, blond hair glowing in the flickering firelight.
The warmth enveloped him, and the chills started to fade. His clothes were still soaked, but at least he wasn’t as cold. Eijirou’s savior sat silently, picking at a stray thread on his pants. Smoke gradually began to fill the cave. They didn’t have long before they needed to leave their small sanctuary but with the surface so far above them, they’d never make it.
The clearing of a throat drew Eijirou’s attention back to the man across from him. Red eyes met red in the orange glow of the fire. Eijirou watched and waited for the man to speak. He seemed to be unsure of what he wanted to say. He let out a long exhale, then nodded once.
“I have something to tell you.”
“Okay?” questioned Eijirou.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Eijirou wrinkled his nose as he rubbed his hands together over the fire. “I mean, yeah. If you hadn’t rescued me, I’d be dead for sure.”
A deep scowl was etched into the man’s forehead as he rolled his eyes at Eijirou. “No, you’re supposed to be dead. Are you familiar with Davy Jones’s Locker?”
“Of course. Any sailor with half a brain knows the myth.”
The blond wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and leaned back with his hands on the stone floor to support his weight. “It’s not a myth. Davy Jones is a title given to an unfortunate sailor by the sea. Whomever the current incarnation of Davy Jones is, is required to ferry lost souls to the afterlife.”
Eijirou focused his gaze on the flickering flames before him. It was a fantastical story, one that sounded as if it were meant to scare him, but he didn’t understand why his savior would feel the need to do so. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to get at,” he said.
A sigh. “I am the current incarnation of Davy Jones. When you fell into the sea, I was supposed to guide your soul to the afterlife like fifteen of your crewmates.”
“Fifteen?” asked Eijirou, stunned. Was he trying to convince Eijirou he was some sort of god? Grim reaper? Either way, it was unbelievable. “I’m too tired for jokes, man.”
“As if I would joke about this.” The man shook his head with weariness in his eyes. Eijirou assumed they were similar in age, but at that moment, there was a lifetime of exhaustion and sadness on his face. “The only reason you’re currently alive is because there was something strange about you.”
Eijirou arched his brow. “Strange how?”
“Normally, when someone dies at sea, there’s this solid green glow that tethers them to me. It makes it so that I can find their soul and bring it aboard my ship to send them off to their next life. Yours was different.”
Eijirou swallowed thickly. If the man was telling the truth, then he really had almost died at sea. “How was it different?”
“It was red instead of green and it kept flickering instead of being solid. You still had life left in your lungs, which didn’t make sense for how long you had been in the water. For all intents and purposes, you should be dead right now, living your afterlife who knows where.”
“But you saved me…” Eijirou whispered into the fire.
Scarlet eyes stared at him curiously, making Eijirou feel small under their scrutiny. “Something about you seemed familiar and since I don’t know what the red glow means, I decided it was best to keep you alive. For now…” he added.
An audible gulp escaped Eijirou, and his body felt painfully cold all over again. “What does this mean?”
“The way I see it, you have three options.”
“Which are?” asked Eijirou.
“I kill you myself and ferry your soul like I was supposed—”
“And the other options?” interjected Eijirou.
The blond rolled his eyes. “You come aboard my ship temporarily until I can figure out what the red glow means. You will be a part of the crew until we have answers. What happens afterwards depends on the results.”
“And the last option?”
“You join my crew permanently. You’d still have to die, but you wouldn’t move on to the afterlife. You’d live your eternity at sea until I’m finally set free of my curse. Everyone on my ship is dead, bound to me. They wanted to cling to the surface for one reason or another, rather than move on.”
Two out of three options involved dying. Not ideal. “You can’t just take me home?” asked Eijirou.
“No,” the man said sternly. “Letting you go free would damn me to this life for even longer.”
Eijirou exhaled a shuddering breath. He could feel the tears welling up, but he couldn’t cry in front of the stranger. “I guess there’s only one real option.” He sniffled. “I’ll join your crew, temporarily.” He added. Eijirou thought for a moment, then said, “What’s to stop me from just running off the next time you make port?”
Sitting up straight and grabbing his knees, the man narrowed his gaze at Eijirou. “Nothing.”
Well… He hadn’t been expecting that answer. “Does this mean you’re finally going to tell me what your name is? Captain…”
Another long sigh and a roll of the eyes. “Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Bakugou.” The smoke from the fire grew thicker within the underwater cave and Bakugou looked like he had enough sitting around. “It’s time to go.”
“You never explained how we’re supposed to get out of here alive,” said Eijirou.
The fire was snuffed out in the blink of an eye and Bakugou stood, walking over to the edge of the pool. “Take a deep breath, hold onto me tightly, and keep your eyes shut.”
“What?”
Eijirou scrambled to his feet to join his new captain, but his answer lacked crucial information. There was no way to swim to the surface without drowning. They were too deep underwater.
“I said—” Bakugou grabbed Eijirou by the elbow, roughly pulling him into his chest. “—take a deep breath, hold onto me tightly, and keep your eyes shut.”
Eijirou sucked in a sharp breath, but not for holding air in his lungs while underwater. He had not been prepared for the firm grip on his arm or the hard chest pressed against him. Awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s shoulders. Warm breath fanned his cheek, and he gulped.
“Ready?” the captain asked. Eijirou nodded, voice failing him. “Good. We’re going to move fast. If you let go, I’ll lose you, and you will die.”
“Okay,” he croaked out. Eijirou locked his arms behind Bakugou’s neck and took a deep breath. On the count of three, the captain moved them into the frigid water. It dragged them under, and then he felt the tug of an ocean current. He wanted to open his eyes, to see how much further they had to go as water raced against his skin. He felt the steady thump of Bakugou’s heart beating against his own and knew he had no choice but to trust the stranger that had saved him once already.
His grip slipped. A strong, warm arm wrapped tightly around his back as they moved upwards. At least, Eijirou assumed they were moving up. They could have been headed deeper into the dark abyss for all he knew. The seconds ticked by and his lungs burned, begging for air. It hadn’t been that long since they were last deprived of oxygen.
“Almost there,” he heard in his ear, and Eijirou wondered how Bakugou was able to speak underwater. He would have to think about that later. For now, Eijirou was forced to concentrate on not opening his mouth and letting a wave of saltwater rush into his body.
It was a testament to his strength when they finally broke the surface. Eijirou gasped, drawing in a desperate lungful of air. His eyelids snapped open, and his eyes stung from the salty ocean. His arms were still wrapped around Bakugou’s shoulders, their noses a hair’s breadth from touching.
“N-now what?” Eijirou shivered. The storm had long since passed. The ocean surface was calm, and stars decorated the sky. On a normal night, he would lay on the deck of the ship and gaze fondly at the stars. That night was anything but normal. He lost his crew. He was told he was supposed to be dead, and now he was meant to live for who knew how long on a ship that wasn’t his. His poor ship. Eijirou had saved so much money to buy that old girl.
Bakugou released Eijirou’s waist, but Eijirou did not take his arms off him. He was still too tired from everything that happened and once they were safely about Bakugou’s ship, he would likely pass out for the next three days. “My crew will be here to pick us up momentarily.”
Eijirou glanced around the open ocean in search of a ship. “How will they know where to find us?”
“Don’t worry about it. My ship always knows where I am.”
His ship. Not his crew? Eijirou didn’t have long to dwell on that curious reply or to worry about any hungry, large fish—sharks—taking notice of them. Small waves rocked them as they treaded water to stay afloat, and shouting called their attention to the north. A large ship with dark sails headed right for them. Eijirou gasped, eyes wide as he took in the blackened wood of the hull and the skull on the jolly roger. “Is that—?” he asked, shock and disbelief spiriting his words away.
“Do you believe me now?” asked Bakugou.
Bakugou’s tale of dead crewmates and ferrying lost souls had seemed too outlandish to be true but when faced with the monstrosity that was the Flying Dutchman, fiction became fact.
“You’re looking a little water-logged, Captain!” One of the men aboard the ship called out, tossing a rope ladder over the starboard side.
“You’re looking like you need more time alone in the crow’s nest!” Bakugou called back to him. Scarlet eyes met crimson, and he nodded to the ladder. “Can you swim over on your own?”
Eijirou nodded once. “Y-yeah. I can manage.” He unwound his arms from around Bakugou’s neck and swam the short distance over to the imposing ship before him. She was both beautiful and every sailor’s nightmare. With shaky limbs, Eijirou grabbed the rope ladder and began to pull himself up. He hadn’t realized quite how exhausted he was until he had to use all his strength to climb up the side of the ship. He could hear Bakugou muttering to himself from below, likely annoyed with how long it was taking Eijirou to ascend, but with every rung of the ladder, his energy sapped further away.
When he finally reached the railing, two sets of hands grabbed him by the elbows and hauled him onto the deck. Eijirou collapsed into a wet pile on the cool, wooden surface. Heavy boots thudded beside him as Bakugou jumped down on his own. Someone hoisted the ladder, rolling it up to safely put away for later. Eijirou watched as dark boots marched to the middle of the deck, then lifted his gaze to see a wicked grin on Bakugou’s face. He stuck his thumb and forefinger between his lips and let out an ear-splitting whistle. Everyone aboard the ship stopped what they were doing and turned to face their captain.
His eyes locked on Eijirou, and he forced himself to stand. Bakugou lifted his arms into the air to present his ship to him and loudly announced, “Welcome to the Flying Dutchman! You are now an interim member of the infamous ghost ship. You will work aboard this ship until I decide what to do with you.”
“I thought—” Bakugou scowled and Eijirou snapped his jaw shut.
“Sato!”
“Yes, Captain?” A large, muscular man twice Eijirou’s size stepped forward.
“Get him some food. Sero, find him some dry clothes.”
“Aye, aye,” said a tall, lanky man with dark black hair. It was tied back in a bandana and the smile he gave Eijirou left him unsettled.
Bakugou fixed him with another hard stare. “You’ll start working in the morning. You best not be useless.”