The Ninja and the Pirate King

     Even in his head, the words refuse to register. Yet Akihiko can see that it’s the Cybunny above him, holding onto his wrist like it’s a lifeline. And for him, it is.

     Laurence is hanging halfway over the bow, clearly struggling to keep himself from pitching over the side as well, yet his grip on Amihiko’s wrist doesn’t waver. And despite his predicament, he offers a strained smile when their eyes meet.

     “Hello again, friend. Would you like to make a deal with me?”

     If Akihiko weren’t one precarious grip away from plummeting to his untimely death, he might have responded with, “Are you insane?” As it stands (and he certainly can’t), all he can do is gape wordlessly up his saviour-slash-imminent-dealmaker like a Belonthiss out of water.

     That, of course, doesn’t deter Laurence. “If I pull you back up here,” he grunts, bracing himself against the gunwale, “do you swear on your honour to relinquish your custody over me?”

     Akihiko stares at him in dazed astonishment. “No,” he says at once, and then, panicked: “Are you crazy? Just—just pull me up already!”

     Laurence grimaces. “Not until you agree to my terms! A life for a life—what say you? Swear it on your honour, and I’ll pull you up!”

     On your honour.

     Akihiko lets out a slow, wavering breath. So, this is how it will be. He should have known better than to trust a pirate, even if only for a single moment. He will not fail his master so long as he draws breath. And he will not impugn his honour by swearing an oath he has no intention of keeping.

     “Then let me go,” he says, so softly that his words are nearly lost in the whipping wind, but he knows Laurence hears him by the way his grip tightens over his wrist. Akihiko closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to see where he’ll land.

     “Oh, oh!” Laurence groans, his fingers slipping another centimetre or so. “Are you truly so stubborn? You are a stupid, silly, foolish man! Just agree to my terms, why don’t you? Neither of us wants to see you fall to your death!”

     “I won’t!” Akihiko shouts, surprising himself with his own vehemence. “I swore that I would fulfil my master’s orders! I will not return to him empty-handed and ashamed!”

     He flinches when he feels Laurence dig in his nails. “You—you absolute, incorrigible fool, Aki! I won’t forgive you for what you’re making me do!”

     Very well, Akihiko thinks, solemnly. Then let us both live and die by our ideals.

     But the sensation of falling never comes. Instead, Akihiko feels himself beginning to rise. He opens his eyes in time to see over the side of the ship again before he’s jerked over the gunwale and slammed against the deck.

     “I won’t forgive you,” Laurence repeats, on his back now and panting beside him. “Surrendering my freedom for your life—I’ll make you pay for that, mark my words!”

     “Akihiko!” Bohai pops into Akihiko’s field of view, leaning over him and taking stock of his condition. “Oh, thank Fyora! You’re alright!”

     “Captain?” Akihiko murmurs, shakily rising into a sitting position. “What—what’s going on? Where are the pirates?”

     Bohai heaves a sigh of relief, slumping back against the ship’s wheel. “They’ve surrendered. We have their captain in our custody, and he’s ordered them to stand down. We’ve won the day, my boy.”

     “Forgive me, Captain,” Akihiko says, hanging his head. “If I had managed to dispatch him first, then—”

     But Bohai holds up a hand to silence him. “Enough, my boy. We’ve won, and that is enough. Better yet, the only losses we sustained were a few batches of cargo—regrettable, of course, but nothing to the lives of my crew.” He clears his throat and straightens. “In any case, we are nearing Shenkuu and should arrive by sundown tomorrow. The pirates are being confined to the brig of their own ship as we speak—excepting that one beside you, of course.” He chuckles.

     Laurence is still on his back, one arm slung over his eyes. Akihiko wants to say something, but in that moment, no words come to him.

     “You ought to thank him,” Bohai says quietly. “The boy risked his life to save yours. He nearly went over the edge, but he never let go of you until I subdued the pirate captain and hauled the two of you back up.”

     Akihiko clenches his hands in his lap. Laurence had threatened to drop him if he didn’t agree to his terms. Yet even when Akihiko had refused, and even when Laurence had nearly gone overboard himself, he hadn’t let go.

     “I,” Akihiko begins, and then, swallowing his pride, he bows his head. “Thank you.”

     —

     Laurence is uncharacteristically cold for the remainder of the night. After being released from the medbay with treatment for minor injuries sustained in the fight, he eats his dinner silently and then retires to their cabin. He’s asleep by the time Akihiko joins him.

     For the first time in a long while, Akihiko is overcome by a deep, blistering shame.

     By morning, Laurence seems to have recovered some of his usual jovial nature, although Akihiko notices a certain falseness in the smiles he flashes. Regardless, the Cybunny sets out to assist the crew as he usually does, and Akihiko doesn’t see him again until sunset. Just as Bohai said, the lofty peaks of Shenkuu come into view just as the sun is retreating behind them.

     A Shoyru crewman flies ahead to alert the authorities as to the nature of the Biyako’s unconventional “cargo”—Bohai ended up having to steer the Piraket the rest of the way after the ships were lashed together with tow ropes to prevent the damages they sustained from worsening by their separation. (Akihiko and Laurence were kept quite busy running between the ships.) But before settling in at the public port designated by the Shenkuu Watch for the pirates to be taken into custody, Bohai docks the ship along a remote mountainside—just as he promised he would. Yet his expression is grim as he sees Akihiko and Laurence off the gangplank.

     “Whatever it is Lord Eiji wants with the boy, I trust you’ll do the right thing,” the Ogrin murmurs gravely as Akihiko passes him.

     With another pang of shame, Akihiko remains silent.

     As twilight deepens into night, Akihiko leads Laurence along a winding forest path. The Cybunny struggles to keep up with his hobbled leg, and eventually, Akihiko relents and removes the device. The skin beneath the metal is worn red and raw, and Akihiko winces, guilt creeping up along his spine like a cold shiver. Laurence does not comment on it, however, and continues along the path with a slight limp.

     Master’s manor comes into view just as the sun slips away entirely for the night. Cradled amongst a grove of vibrant red maples, the manor is built in the traditional Shenkuu style, its walls aligned in perfect symmetry under a sharply eaved roof tiled in striking green. A pond stretches across the courtyard, bisected by a little arched bridge, and though Akihiko can’t see them in the dark, he knows that colourful Belonthiss swim lazily in the temperate waters.

     He holds back a sigh. Part of him is glad to be home; the other is distressed by his purpose here.

     A life for a life, Laurence had said—and Akihiko is indebted to him.

     He brings Laurence around the back of the manor to the servants’ entrance. They make their way through the minimalist servants’ quarters and emerge into the main sitting room.

     Despite the sliding shoji doors and the tatami mats spread across the floors, there’s a decidedly West Neopian flair to the interior design that has always puzzled Akihiko. Blown-glass vases sit on marble columns carved with scenes of knights hunting four-legged draconic creatures. Lush carpets in muted tones are rolled out over the straw mats, superfluous in their purpose. A mahogany coffee table sits in the centre of the room between an ornate stone hearth and a royal blue sofa. And on the sofa, with his back turned toward them, is Lord Eiji.

     “I presume that’s you, Akihiko?” the Stealthy Gelert says, without turning around.

     “Yes, Master,” Akihiko says, dipping into a bow, though Eiji doesn’t see it.

     “And I presume you have succeeded in your task?”

     “Yes, Master.” Akihiko glances at Laurence and is surprised to find the Cybunny scrunching up his face, as if trying to remember something long forgotten.

     “Hold on a moment,” he says at last. “‘Lord Eiji,’ is it? Show yourself.”

     Slowly, and with a low chuckle, Eiji rises, stepping around the sofa to face them. Despite the hour, he isn’t yet dressed for bed, still garbed in a blue-black kimono beautifully embroidered with crimson Sakura blossoms. He holds a folding fan up to his face, partially obscuring it, but Laurence takes a startled step back, his eyes flashing with something—alarm, Akihiko wonders?

     And then it hits him. It isn’t alarm—not entirely.

     It’s recognition.

     “That can’t be you, Leon.”

     To be continued…