My Precious Cargo ⚔ Volume 2 (An AtsuKage ff) ✔

XI

"Over your dead body?" the king repeated before laughing, the soldiers beneath him laughing too. "Well, I suppose that can be arranged. Guards-"

"Stop."

Just as the guards began to pull out their swords and spears, a voice split through the scraping of steel. Everyone's eyes turned to the Captain's quarters, and there Prince Kageyama stood, looking up at his father with an unreadable expression.

"Son."

"Father." 

To anyone else Tobio looked collected, but from the side you could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed to remain composed. His shoulders were relaxed and he held a cold expression, one reflecting the old man above.

"My my, how well you've done. You've once again exceeded my expectations, my masterpiece."

"Let's not waste time with meaningless words. My task is complete, let us return to the kingdom."

Holding his son's gaze for a moment longer than necessary, he turned and nodded to his crew. Suddenly, before Atsumu could get a word in, the King's men invaded their ship, a bloody battle beginning. He watched as Inarizaki held its own for a moment, their skill and teamwork strong, but even their strength couldn't overcome the size of the King's men. With pain in his eyes he watched as Tobio swung over to his father's ship, landing at the bottom of the stairs and calmly walking up to the old man.

"Injuries?" his father inquired.

"None."

Lies. His head hadn't stopped hurting and you could probably feel his ribs by now.

"Acceptable."

"High praise."

"Praise is meaningless. You survived a voyage with filthy scum, that is the strength a child of mine possesses."

Tobio said nothing but cast a glance over to Atsumu. The Captain was being detained by some of the top ranking guards, and he was shouting for his crew to stand strong. But none of that mattered right now, he had fulfilled his duties and would return to the castle with his father.

"You must be hungry." the King continued with unusual kindness, but his eyes scrutinised the short glimpse his son took towards the pirate. "Come to my quarters and we shall feast. One more pirate crew destined for the gallows."

"Yes sir."

He bowed deep before following after his father, keeping his eyes trained on the floor and blocking out the sound of Inarizaki shouting at him, some pleading but most cursing...

The crew of Inarizaki's revenge spent the next month in the brig of Tobio's father's ship. They were given scraps of bread and some water if they were lucky, and where most would have perished they persevered. They were mostly left alone, Atsumu sometimes getting a punch or two for the sake of it, but the guards only sneered as they passed him.

Some nights, in the pitch black, a figure or two would come down to them and leave some leftovers wrapped in cloth outside their cell. No faces were visible, no words exchanged, so they couldn't tell if it was Tobio or a random crewman. Tobio... just the thought made them sick. All this time was he just acting? Playing along whilst fulfilling one of his father's schemes? Was it planned all along, for them to take him and for him to lead his father to them? No, he couldn't... right?

They didn't see the Prince once during the journey, and the crew couldn't tell if it was for the better or worse. Atsumu stayed mostly silent, staring at one spot in the brig, too lost in his own thoughts. They didn't try to speak to him either. 

But finally they reached the King's kingdom, the sounds of a bustling port announcing their arrival. Through the small, barred windows they could see a huge town ahead of them, houses up and down streets and hills, a long path winding up to the Kageyama castle. A troupe of guards came down to the brig to chain them up, linking them up to a larger chain before hauling them out. They wandered how often this happened, a pirate being captured and brought to justice in their kingdom, for few of the citizens bothered to look their way as they were hauled into the back of a cart and dragged up to the castle.

Again, they didn't see any signs of Tobio as they were hauled into the dungeons, wrists rubbed raw and bleeding. Atsumu seemed to pull himself together at the sight of his dirty and hungry crew, so he told them to rest up whilst he tried to think of a plan of escape. This brought traces of smiles to their faces, seeing their Captain step up and take initiative, but they knew that in this kingdom their chances of escape were slim. They had dared to challenge him by taking his son, and now the King was taking his revenge.

Their first night in the dungeons was spent passed out on the cold stone ground, only slightly warmer than the brig where sharp cold winds rushed into the ship, with Atsumu keeping watch. They weren't chained to the walls meaning he could get up and walk around, but he didn't exactly have the energy to do so. His mind was heavy, having no idea what was really going on? 

From the looks of things it really did seem as if Tobio had been playing them as a fool the whole time but his heart refused to believe this. How could all they had been through have been a lie? Those moments they spent together, they couldn't have been just for show. It was cruel enough to become friendly with the crew, but to fake a romance with its Captain? That was just cruel.

Sighing, he leaned his head against the cell bars keeping them trapped and wondered if this was how they would end. Not to go down in history as the greatest pirate crew to have ever sailed the seven seas, but another nameless lot sent to the gallows for treason. 

"None of this makes sense." he muttered, his eyes unfocusing as he continued to battle between head and heart...

Tobio looked at himself in the mirror, once more dressed in finer clothes to suit his royal status. He had always asked to keep his clothes plain, but the extra stitching on his shirt, the pure gold buckles on his boots, and the slacks that fit him to perfection, these were the marks of royalty. But they didn't suit him, he was beginning to think that they never had. They were too tight and restrictive, feeling like ropes keeping his arms and legs bound, unable to fight back.

Looking away, he went over to his giant bed, too big for one, and picked up his mother's dagger. He held it to his chest, shutting his eyes and imagining his mother giving him some warmth and comfort, advice on what to do next. He hoped that his plan would work. 

It had to.