Drifting – Part Eight: Morning

The pirates on morning watch were those on the ship that got to see the sunrise. They were the only ones to really experience the beauty of it, though because of their utter callousness, they never really cared much about it; they just wanted to go get some food and some sleep. Therefore, they watched, with an utterly impassive eye, as the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a red sheen over the ocean and turning it the color of blood. As the sun rose, the color of the water gradually turned a brilliant gold, and as soon as the orb was completely in the sky, the pirate in charge of keeping time reached over his head and rung a heavy bell that was anchored to the mast.

“Rise an’ shine, me hearties,” he said with a smirk, looking towards the forecastle where the second half of the crew were resting, then tramped off below-deck. Maybe he could scrounge up an early breakfast.

The sound of the bell shattered Sango’s dream into a thousand fragments and half-dragged her from the world of sleep. Sunlight was filtering into the porthole over the bed and piercing right into her eyelids. Her first instinct was to pull the covers up over her head, and she tried to do just that, seizing the comforter and pulling upward.

The cover didn’t move. Without opening her eyes, she rolled from her side onto her back and pulled again. Still nothing. Heaving a sigh of longsuffering, she opened one eye to search out what was preventing her from protecting her eyes from the sun. As soon as her eyes came into focus, she realized that a hand was pinning the covers down. Ah. That explained it, then.

...A hand?

Sango’s eyes shot open—and she found herself staring upward into Miroku’s violet eyes. After a few moments, she became aware of exactly what his position was. She’d apparently awakened and rolled over while he was in the process of climbing over her, meaning that currently, he was straddling her body.

She found herself absolutely unable to speak. A good thing, really, because whatever she said would not have been very nice. After a prolonged silence, Miroku smiled widely. “Good morning, Sango.”

Sango blinked. Then, quite abruptly, she wrenched her hand from under the covers and smacked him soundly across the face. Or as soundly as she could manage, considering the awkward angle. Since there was no real force behind the blow, Miroku’s head merely turned to the side a few inches, and his cheek reddened a bit. Miroku’s wide smile turned a shade more wry. “Well, what did I do to deserve that?”

The woman spluttered. “You—you—I told you not to climb over me!” she managed.

Miroku shifted his weight to one arm for the sole purpose of raising the other to sheepishly scratch at his cheek. Sango tried valiantly to ignore the fact that he was still delectably topless. “Well, you were sleeping so soundly... I figured that there was no use waking you up with the rest of us.”

Against her will, Sango had begun to blush. “Get—off—me—Pirate,” she gritted out, making each word distinct so that her meaning couldn’t possibly be mistaken.

Miroku was never one to take hints.

Instead of complying, he dropped to his elbows, bringing his face mere inches from Sango’s. With an ‘eep’, Sango attempted another strike, and Miroku effortlessly blocked the blow. All right, then—drastic times called for drastic measures.

With a yell of “You pervert!”, she began to kick, trying to throw him off, but she did absolutely no damage at all. On the contrary, Miroku seemed amused by her efforts. “Why Sango, you wound me.”

“I’ll wound you—!”

“Now, now. Calm down.” When her thrashing only increased, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me kiss you.”

Sango froze. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Whether Miroku dared or not went undetermined, because the door to the captain’s quarters slammed open. Inuyasha stood there, framed by the doorway. “Hey, Miroku, the men say-” He paused suddenly, taking in the position that the two were in, Miroku’s grin, Sango’s flush, and the rumpled state Sango’s struggles had left the bed-sheets in. “...Feh. It can wait.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him; Sango was pretty sure she heard a muttered “Could have locked the door” in his wake.

Miroku let out a hefty sigh. “I told him the last time to learn to knock…”

“What last time?” Sango asked as she tried to push him away. “Speaking of last times, for the last time, get off of me!”

He stayed where he was.

“Never you mind that,” he told her with a smile. “Just enjoy the moment.”

She eyed him dryly. “What moment? The only moment I’m going to enjoy is the moment you get off of me and I get to hurt you for humiliating me like this.” He laughed, not bothered by her threat in the least, and leaned further down to nuzzle her neck, effectively freezing Sango’s breath in her throat, only to make it come out in a hiss when he pressed his lips to her collarbone. Another chuckle escaped Miroku as he lifted his head enough to stare at her intently.

“Come now, Sango. Are you going to tell me you didn’t enjoy that in the slightest?”

Sango flushed a brilliant pink hue that Miroku was quite sure he’d only seen in the sky when the sun was setting, and she glared daggers up at him. “Get off of me before…before I bite your nose off!”

If anything, his grin only broadened. “Violence, eh? I never pegged you as that sort, but I suppose I can make do.”

“Stop making everything I say part of your lecherous jokes!”

“But,” he said, his violet eyes sparkling mischievously, “it’s so fun.”

Sango glowered. “I hate you, Pirate.”

“Ah, but there’s such a fine line between love and hate, isn’t there?” He paused, his head tilting to the side. “Or, was it lust and hate? I don’t fully remember…”

She let out a short, derisive laugh. “What makes you think any woman would love you?” she asked, only vaguely aware of how below the belt the insult was, but Miroku took it in stride with another smirk.

“I’m persuasive.”

“Perverted, you mean?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” he amended. “Does it matter so much?”

Sango rolled her eyes. “Do you not have work to go do?” she asked, a bit hopefully.

“It can wait,” Miroku assured her. “Or do you really want to get up that badly?”

“That should be obvious,” she replied sourly.

He donned an expression of defeat that was proven to be false by the twinkle that still lingered in his gaze. “Well, if you insist…” Sighing as though mortally pained, Miroku pushed himself off of Sango and rolled out of bed with a pout and a muttered accusation of, “Killjoy.” Glancing back at her as if to check that she was looking, Miroku brought his arms over his head with a yawn, almost like he was trying to show off just how pleasingly toned his upper body was to the eye.

And although she forcibly told herself otherwise, Sango really couldn’t help but notice. A lot. Weren’t the scalawags of the sea supposed to be ugly, smelly, and brutish? To be sure, this one could hardly be described as any of those things.

She quickly sat up, tearing her eyes away from the still shirtless pirate and disposing of those treacherous thoughts.

“So, umm…” she tried, as Miroku began to rummage through his belongings for a clean shirt, “what exactly am I supposed to do while you’re off gallivanting with your crew members?” The pirate chortled at her choice of words, and she glanced up at him just in time to see him pulling his shirt over his head, and the thought that he had a very nice back came up out of the blue. Needless to say, she wasted no time in sending it back to wherever it had emerged from, wishing it had never done so in the first place all the while. Miroku turned around.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you down to the galley in a bit so that you could get some breakfast and maybe stay with Miss Kagome and Kagura for a time. Then, around lunchtime, I’ll come spirit you away again.” He winked. “After all, I know you can’t live without me.”

Sango chucked her pillow at him, which he caught easily and set down on the table. “Hardly the case, Pirate.”

He shot her an amused look, before giving her a deep, mocking bow. “If you say so.”

“Hn.” Rolling her eyes, Sango climbed out of bed. “Indeed. I also say this: clear out so that I can get dressed.”

“Ah, but you stayed within the premises while I dressed,” Miroku argued cheerfully. Instead of answering, Sango mustered up the dirtiest look she could manage and sent it towards him. After a long moment, he seemed to catch on. He sighed dejectedly, as though he’d just been denied a sweet treat. “Oh, very well then. I’ll go track down Inuyasha. Come find me when you’re done.”

As he left and Sango set to choosing her clothing, she couldn’t help but smile just a little.

That is, until she realized with a curse that she’d forgotten to smack him for pinning her to the bed.

—

By the time Sango finally emerged from the cabin, the sun had cleared the horizon and the clouds were fading from pink to white. The sunlight sparkled off of the ocean’s surface like so many vibrant diamonds, and Sango had to shade her eyes to see properly. There was hardly anyone on the deck, save for a short pirate scrubbing the forecastle deck and another on the main deck peering skyward. Sango followed his gaze, finding that at least three others were tending the sails, moving easily from mast to line and back again.

“They make it look easy, don’t they?”

Sango turned, bringing her gaze back down to see whom had spoken. “Oh, hello, Kagome.” She glanced skyward again. “Have you ever...?”

Kagome laughed and shook her head, strolling from the stairway to Sango’s side. “No, never. But after living amongst pirates for a few years, you get the opportunity to see a good number of inexperienced sailors-to-be try to make the climb.”

“A... few years?” Sango repeated, looking at the younger girl with a twinge of worry. “Have you really been here that long?”

Kagome smiled. “A little more than two years, yes.”

“You haven’t had a chance to escape in two whole years?” Sango asked, a frown growing on her face. If Kagome had been here that long and hadn’t gotten away... What was to become of her? Was she to be stuck as a prisoner to that lecherous Pirate forever, until she became a bitter old waif like those women she’d been subjected to before the auction?

The blue-eyed girl laughed.

“Escape? Well, I suppose there have been various opportunities to do that... But why in the world would I want to?”

Sango stared at her feeling very speechless and even a slight bit angry. “Don’t you miss your family?”

“Of course I do,” Kagome replied benignly. “However, I love this ship, the people on it, and my life here. There is also my relationship with Inuyasha to consider. Regardless, I’m happy here. I know it may not seem like an ideal life to you now, but at least give it a try. You’re on what is easily the most ethical pirate ship to ever sail the seas, though the men are by no means saints, and...” She winked. “Well, Captain Miroku seems to hold a genuine interest in you, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, yes,” Sango said, her feelings of annoyance towards the man distracting from her earlier discontent. “A genuine interest indeed—in taking advantage of me, that is.”

Kagome’s smile merely widened a fraction. “Speaking of him, Lord Miroku did send me to you for a reason. He’s been temporarily waylaid by unexpected circumstances of a fearful manner—his words, not mine—and I’m to see that you get your breakfast and take you down into the hold afterwards. There’s a fine bit of linen and cloth down there from the various, ah, business ventures we’ve made in the past, and he was hoping you might widen your wardrobe a bit more. He said something about steering you towards the more low-cut or otherwise promiscuous articles, but I figure you’ll have none of that.”

“Indeed,” Sango agreed, resisting the urge to sigh in exasperation. That pirate was infuriating in his determination, and she was going to slap him first chance she got. “But, waylaid, you said?”

“Ah, yes. Well—”

Just then, a ruckus from below deck interrupted Kagome’s explanation, and a group of pirates emerged into the sunlight, a figure thrust to the ground before them. They watched, wide-eyed, as Miroku stepped forward from the group, the men behind him drawing their pistols and other weapons.

Sango started, turning to look at Kagome in surprise. The younger girl seemed focused on the scene before them, and she commented lightly, “Ah, so it seems that there was a stowaway...”

“Stowaway?” Sango echoed, understanding dawning on her face as she followed Kagome's gaze down to the person lying at the feet of the pirates, who suddenly appeared more fearful than they ever had since she first boarded the Wanderer. The figure lay on his (or her) stomach, hair obscuring all features, and didn't look up when Miroku moved closer.

Sango hadn't noticed until now, but Miroku had a weapon at the ready, as well. In his right hand, he held a long, gleaming cutlass. The wicked blade shone where it caught bits of the now fully risen sun. At first, she thought it was just for intimidation purposes, but when she saw the look on his face, she was suddenly certain that he knew how to handle the weapon, and handle it well.

His face was set in grim lines, and there was no trace of the usual easygoing mannerisms that she'd come to associate with him. Slowly, Miroku raised the blade and leveled it at the back of the person's neck. "I will assume that you are aware of the penalty for stowing away on a pirate vessel," Miroku said coldly, his usually bright and cheerful eyes narrowed and forbidding.

Sango, though shocked, could vaguely comprehend the sentiments. Having seen the way the pirates felt about their ship, she knew that finding a stowaway aboard was akin to finding a burglar in your home. If possible, it was even more personal. Still, the look on Miroku's face was more than a little frightening.

“Pir—” she began to speak, but was halted by Kagome's hand on her forearm. She understood in a moment. This was something in which she was not supposed to interfere. All the same, she couldn't help wanting to move forward. This feeling only increased when the figure finally raised its head and revealed a familiar face.

His long, brown hair, which had apparently been in an up-do, had fallen down around his shoulders, the pins trying futilely to hold a few strands in place. He had apparently been wearing eye makeup, which was smudged down his cheeks in bluish-black streaks. The left sleeve of his shirt was ripped at the shoulder, but the man himself seemed relatively unharmed. Sango caught a glimpse of a pale head at Miroku's side and heard Inuyasha's voice snarl, “Jakotsu.”

Sango stepped back to put herself even with Kagome again and spoke under her breath. “What will they do to him?” she asked, shocking herself with the impersonality in her voice.

Kagome's eyes didn't leave Jakotsu, who was sitting up by now. Her tone was morose, however, as she spoke. “Can't you guess? There's no telling what he's heard since he's been on board, or what he'll say if we put him off at a port. He'll be—” She broke off as Sango pushed roughly past her.

Jakotsu brushed hair out of his face as if trying to make a good impression. Pointedly, he looked only at Miroku, whose decision would determine the actions of the other pirates. “I know the penalty,” he said rather calmly, folding his hands in his lap, “though I would like the chance to speak for myself.”

Miroku's cutlass never wavered from its position, and with the way Jakotsu was now sitting, the point was inches from his face. Maintaining that frightening tone of voice, he said, “I've no intention of allowing you to talk your way out of this, stowaway. Once you board this ship, you're either crew or shark food.”

The ex-barman's eyes widened a bit; he hadn't expected to be met with such firm opposition right away. From what he'd seen of this pirate captain, he was one of the more kindly of the lot, and it was for this reason that he'd decided to stow away on their ship. Of course, the main reason was to keep Inuyasha in his sights, but it probably wouldn't help his case any to mention that immediately.

With a gasp, Jakotsu tilted his head back as Miroku's blade tilted toward his throat. Fully grasping the situation, he fell back on his hands, away from the blade, and it was at this moment that another hand slid over the pirate captain's in an attempt to get the blade to lower.

Sango wasn't sure whether this attempt was futile, but she had to try something. Sitting aside while the stowaway was dispose of would destroy something inside her, she was sure of it. The only thing that she could think of to do was to attempt to placate him somehow. The crew, the members of which had been chattering ominously, fell suddenly silent. Sango could practically feel their eyes on her, but did her best to ignore them.

Miroku turned slowly and looked first at her hand on his, then at her face. The look in his eyes was reminiscent of a child who, having never been rebuked, had just been loudly reprimanded. He appeared almost confused, and a little bit angry. “What I and my men do is none of your business.”

This was true, of course, but Sango wasn't willing to back down so easily. “What can you possibly get out of killing him?” she asked reasonably. With a bit more force from her, the cutlass lowered a few inches.

“The respect of my men,” he hissed, his voice only loud enough for her to hear. “In case you forget, Sango, I am a pirate, and therefore, I behave as one.” Even as he spoke, the cutlass dropped to his side, though the hardened look on his face did not fade. “Take him below deck and tie him up there,” he snapped, and three crewmembers moved forward to do just that. Three weren't needed, however, because Jakotsu went willingly enough, almost boneless with relief.

Sango removed her hand from his as soon as Jakotsu was out of sight. As if he had been waiting for this, Miroku sheathed his cutlass immediately and turned to his men. “The new addition to our crew is new to the pirate life. If possible, I would prefer she not see bloodshed so soon. We'll find a use for the stowaway.”

Without another word, he turned and headed for his quarters, apparently deep in thought. For a moment, Sango entertained the idea of following, but the general mood of the ship was enough to stop her. The men were beginning to disperse, and the majority of them looked as if they had been denied a particularly desirable treat. Inuyasha, in particular, looked rather perturbed, though that was probably because of personal reasons.

Kagome stepped up to where Sango still stood, staring after the pirate captain. Before she could speak, Sango said, “I somehow feel that I did something wrong.” Kagome didn't speak, but she did sigh softly before motioning that Sango should follow her. It was still early in the day, after all, and they had much to do.

—

After a quick breakfast consisting of a thin stew and a large chunk of bread, Kagome led Sango to a room below-deck where the clothes that Miroku wanted them to go through. Sango was actually rather grateful for the distraction; though the men were back to their normal boisterous selves, amusing themselves with dice games and the like, she hadn't seen Miroku since Jakotsu was found.

As much as she hated to admit it, she really did need the extra clothes; it had been several days since her abduction, after all, and the closest she'd come to a bath had been washing herself up in murky water in the Eye.

Kagome knelt by a box just inside the door and began to look through its contents. Sango chose to wander further into the room. Apparently, this particular place was a repository for clothing retrieved from pillaging. Unconsciously, she moved toward a large red chest and pushed it open with some difficulty. Inside were several dresses that were actually vaguely reminiscent of the style that she normally wore.

With a small smile, she lifted one of the dresses from the box and held it up. It was like a representation of her origins; it was hard to believe that only a few days prior, she had been on a ship, headed for England and a life that she knew.

Abruptly, she dropped the dress back into the trunk and closed the lid. There was no need for such extravagance here, after all. Something comfortable and practical would suffice, though she'd be grateful just for something that would get her out of the accursed bustier that enabled her to fit into Kagome's clothes. Dropping to her knees beside a more understated trunk, she resumed her search.

After about a quarter of an hour, Kagome turned to Sango with her first find—a cream-colored dress that looked rather soft and comfortable, and lacked the many frills and poufs of more expensive garments. Sango nodded in approval, and Kagome lay it over the top of a trunk whose contents she'd already raided.

A few more minutes passed in silence, then Sango dropped the rather dusty dress that she was holding and looked over at Kagome, who was firmly engrossed in digging through a mound of what appeared to be men's shirts. “Kagome...” she called to get the girl's attention. Kagome didn't look up, but nodded to show that she was listening.

“What was it about what I did earlier was so unacceptable?” she asked thoughtfully. When Kagome failed to answer, she continued to think aloud. “I've heard from quite a few people that this is arguably the most ethical vessel on the seas, more so than even the King's Navy.” Kagome was still silent. “What's the harm in sparing a life or two as long as there is a reason behind it.”

The lid of the trunk that Kagome had been going through slammed shut with a dull thud and she rose to her feet. “I am sorry if you don't understand how pirate ships work,” she said finally, “but there is one factor that is fairly constant. During normal times, a pirate ship is most like a democracy. Everybody is allowed to voice their opinions and the captain takes it all into consideration and gives the final word. When things like what happened today occur, the captain's word is law. Anything else is mutiny.”

These words didn't sink in at first, but as Kagome continued, it became glaringly obvious what she had done. “By going against the captain's word, you as good as said that you don't believe him competent of running this ship.” Her speech was faster now, and more heated. “By letting you remain on the ship, he's pretty much saying that he will allow people to undermine his authority.”

Sango flinched slightly in realization. She hadn't really thought about the situation at all, though in retrospect, she could have done nothing less. She was mildly consoled by the fact that the crew seemed quite fond of their captain, though she wasn't sure of how far such loyalty would go among pirates.

“He's put himself in an awkward position if someone were to think of challenging him,” Kagome said finally, her voice now less upset and more awkwardly embarrassed at her outburst. “He seems to care enough about you to refrain from doing something that he's been doing indiscriminately for years. I just hope you realize that.” Going back to her knees, she began to dig through the trunk again.

At the end of a three-hour period, the two had found seven dresses that could possibly fit Sango. A few of them would probably be too large or small, but as long as about four fit all right, she could manage until they found shore again. Sango didn't bring up the Jakotsu incident again; though she would have liked to talk more about it, it appeared to be a touchy subject. With Kagome's mind spoken, the conversation between them was much less stressed.

They returned to the upper level with the dresses in hand and deposited them in the captain's quarters. Miroku was nowhere to be found, and Sango found herself actually chagrined over his absence.

Kagome excused herself and headed back below while Sango tried on the dresses. The cream one was first, and it fit quite well. A few of the others sagged uncomfortably, and when Sango finally tallied them up, she had three new dresses at her disposal. She folded them carefully and left them on the corner of the bed to be put away later. She had to way of washing them at hand, and figured that they were probably cleaner than she was at the moment, anyway.

She sat beside the folded dresses for a while, staring at her hands, then quickly rose and made for the door. It was close to midday, and she wasn't intending to spend the rest of her waking hours sitting in a room by herself. The door opened before she could touch it, however, and she found herself face-to-face with the pirate captain himself.

For a split-second, she had no idea what to say to him. Kagome's enlightening tirade was foremost on her mind, after all, and she felt as if she'd done him a terrible wrong. “Pirate, if what I did earlier was—”

Miroku grinned and held up a hand to stop her. It was as if the scene of earlier that morning had never happened, and he was trying to keep her from even mentioning it, especially in a negative light. “I have put Jakotsu to work in the galley with Kagura. She's not very happy about it now, but I assume the two can share makeup secrets, eventually.”

Sango shook her head. “That's not all that I mean, and you know it.”

Miroku crossed his arms and studied her for a moment. “I would assume that Kagome has told you a few aspects of pirate life. Well, I can assure you that there is little to worry about aboard my ship. The crew seems to have dismissed it as a solitary incidence. I hope you see, now, why I asked you to agree not to slap me?” he asked in an utterly innocent manner, a roguish smile beginning to spread across his face.

Sango studied his face. “I agreed to no such thing.” To Miroku's bewildered expression, she added, “I agreed not to slap you in front of your men.” Before he had a chance to unfold his arms, Sango whacked him soundly across his left cheek and pushed past him and out of the door. “And that’s for this morning,” she called over her shoulder before vanishing down the stairs to the main deck.

With a wry grin, Miroku touched his reddened cheek. This was proving to be one eventful voyage, and they were merely two days in.

—

Aamalie: Ah, well. That took long enough, now didn’t it? And, geez, we’re not even to the main plot yet... xD (Yes, there is a plot!)

Corisu: ...I have no words.