WELCOME IN!

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

You froze, shoulders going rigid and mouth clamping shut at the unexpected voice. You looked over your shoulder to spot Killer, half-in and half-out of the crow’s nest, mask pointed directly at you.

“I, uh, I can’t. Not really.”

It was the dead of night and you’d been assigned lookout. Everyone was asleep, save for a few oddballs here and there that tottered around the ship, doing who knows what. It appeared that Killer was one such oddball on that particular night, and he’d caught you.

“Sounded like you could to me.” He shrugged, and then hoisted himself all the way in, crowding you. The crow’s nest was decently sized, but with his large frame he took up a large percentage of the space, causing you to push yourself against the edge.

A fake laugh burst past your lips, and you shook your head. “Oh, that? No, I was just messing around, trying to keep myself awake.” You waved your hand dismissively, hoping that the first mate would get the hint and drop the topic.

He didn’t. “What’s the name of that song? I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” You sighed, watching as Killer made no movement and continued to stare at you. Although you couldn’t see his eyes, you could feel them. “…It’s a lullaby from my home. I don’t think it has a name, everyone just called it ‘Lullaby.’” You shrugged. “Never forgot it, I suppose.”

“Can you sing it again?”

Once again you froze, staring at Killer with eyes as wide as saucers. “What? No! Of course not! Why would you ask that?”

Killer shrugged and leaned against the rim of the nest, looking out to the sea. “I can’t sleep, and you said it’s a lullaby.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off before you could get a sound out. “And you have a nice voice.”

Silence overtook the two of you, then. You clenched your jaw and looked away, trying to calm the racing heart in your chest with deep breaths. Killer thought you had a nice voice? This big, strong, scarred, masked man couldn’t sleep, and wanted you to sing a lullaby to him? It sounded absurd, absolutely and positively absurd.

So, you told him that. “You’re crazy. Why would you want to fall asleep in the crow’s nest, anyway? It’s not comfortable up here at all. Just go do what Kid does and drink until you pass out or something.”

“I wanted to see you.” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, and the overwhelming urge to leap from the nest overcame your body. “But if you don’t want to hang out, I can just go-”

“No,” You cut him off, a foreign panic rising up your throat at the thought of him leaving. You swallowed it down. “Stay. It’s fine. Just… Don’t ask me to sing for you.”

“You got it.” Killer eased back into his spot, well, as much as he could in the tight quarters. How he wasn’t freezing in his shirt and jeans was a question you didn’t want to ask, and to busy yourself, you shifted your focus to the world around you.

A generous amount of time passed in blissful silence, you and the first mate falling into a contentedness to just exist together for the moment. It was rare to experience silence on the Victoria Punk, and rarer still for that silence to be peaceful, so when the opportunity presented itself, you knew to seize it with both hands.

“If you’re self conscious about your singing, you might want to get a bit better at hiding it.” Killer spoke up without warning, drawing your attention back to him. “You know how much Kid enjoys music. If he hears you, he won’t let you just slink off and say ‘no.’ Especially not during karaoke night.”

You groaned and raked your hand over your face. “There’s a reason I hide during those.” You sighed and shook your head. “But really, I don’t get what you’re on about. Kid enjoys good music. I’m tolerable at best.”

“I disagree.” Killer shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. Apparently sensing your prickliness, he rushed to defend himself. "I’m not asking for you to sing, I'm just saying that I wouldn’t be opposed to hearing you again. That's all.”

A warm feeling swelled in your heart at his words. With a huff you pulled your knees to your chest and looked away, pursing your lips into a pout. “Stop trying to sweet talk me, Killer. I’m supposed to be on watch. I can’t get distracted.”

“Sweet talk you?” He echoed, sounding amused. “Well, is it working?”

“You-!”

He chuckled, low and muffled as he ducked his head to hide the sound. The frustrated look on your face melted away as you watched him, an easy smile crawling to your lips as you listened. “I like your laugh.” All sounds and movements ceased from the man, and were you not aware of his complicated feelings towards his laugh, you would have panicked. But you were, so all you did was continue to smile and elaborate. “It makes me happy. It makes me want to laugh, too.” Killer didn’t move, didn’t speak; in fact, you thought he stopped breathing.

In an effort to diffuse the tension radiating off of him, you threw an arm over the rim of the nest and rested your chin on it, looking out at the pitch black sea.

It was odd, sitting on the engawa with her, eating freshly made ohagi. It was domestic, comfortable, and serene, a far cry from the environment he used to live in.

The sky was a deep and dark blue, the only light illuminating the two being the outdoor lamps and the stars. They sat side by side, the plate of ohagi between them, as they stared out into the night.

“Shinazugawa-sama?”

“I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Were you ever in love?”

The question caught him completely off guard, a piece of rice getting caught in his throat and causing him to cough. She paid him no mind as he tried not to choke.

“I don’t know if the corps allowed time for romance, so I’m curious.” She continued.

With a final cough, Sanemi cleared his throat. “Why?”

“As I said, I’m curious.” He stayed quiet, sensing more words on the tip of her tongue. He didn’t have to wait long. “I think I was.”

“In love?”

“Mmhm.”

Sanemi didn’t say anything, choosing instead to look over at the woman at his side. She hadn’t looked at him, keeping her eyes up and her face neutral. The lamplight dusted her in a soft orange glow.

“Yes.” He said eventually, looking away. The stars twinkled.

“Did she die?”

“Yes."

“I’m sorry.” She hummed. “They tend to do that, don’t they? The ones we love.”

His heart ached in time with the buzz of the cicadas.

“Yes. They do.”

“Did you ever recover from it?”

He wasn’t sure why he was entertaining the depressing conversation, but something about her made him feel safe. Seen, like he could answer her truthfully.

“From her death?”

“From your love.”

He grunted, trying not to think about the flowers that had been planted in the yard.

“I don’t know.”

She hummed, pensive, but didn’t say anything else, giving him the floor to continue or stop.

“Did you?” He kept his gaze on the sky, searching for the moon.

“I don’t think so.” He saw her shoulders sag from the corners of his eyes, a heavy sigh coming from her lips. “I lay awake at night, sometimes, or find myself staring at the candle flames thinking about the what if’s.”

He understood. Gods, did he understand.

“Did he love you?”

It took a minute for her to answer, and when she did, her words were strained. “I’m not sure. I’d like to think so,” For the first time since the conversation had begun, he heard the slightest hint of sadness in her voice. “But I don’t know, and that eats me alive.

“Did she love you?”

He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, the crisp air biting his lungs. Somewhere in the distance, a crow called.

“I think so. I hope so. I don’t know, either.”

They sat in silence for a moment, letting the wind and the sound of summer bugs fill the air.

“Do you think they’d forgive us, if we chose to love someone new?”

Sanemi closed his eyes, letting the cool night air run over his skin.

“I think it’s what they’d want, even if it’s not what we’d want.” Each of his words were measured and carefully chosen.

“Do you think it’s possible for us to love someone else?”

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her, at seeing the way her hair curled around her cheek and jaw, caressing her skin.

His answer ruminated in his mouth, the words tumbling over teeth and tongue. “I do, if we let ourselves.”

Her reply came quickly, a rushed, soft whisper like she was scared the words would disappear if she didn’t speak them into existence:

“I don’t know if I want to.”

He paused.

“I don’t know if I want to, either.”

Silence fell between them, then. It wasn’t tense, or heavy; everything they’d wanted to say, they’d said. Melancholy rang through the breeze, echoing through the trees and harmonizing with the bugs.

He picked up and ate the last piece of ohagi. Her cooking was truly marvelous; he understood why Kyojuro held her in such high regard, and never seemed to be able to stop himself from complimenting her food, even if no one was there to listen.

“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” Her voice was a whisper when she spoke again.

Sanemi nodded. “She was.”

Silence descended upon them once again, and after several minutes, she stood and gathered the empty plate.

“He said I was beautiful, once.” She was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear her. “I didn’t believe him then. I wish I had.”

She walked toward the shoji door, pausing for a minute before turning to face him. He remained sitting, twisted in his seat to watch her.

“Goodnight, Sanemi.”

She bowed, and then went into the house, sliding the door shut behind her.

Alone on the engawa, he turned back to look at the sky. The moon appeared from behind a cloud, a sliver of its whole, but still shining brighter than any of the stars.