Chapter Text
“So…you all ate Devil Fruit?”
A series of nods pass through the group squished along the bartop. Elbow to elbow, they encompass the entire length as they send each newly poured mug of beer down the line to the next. Based on their expressions, it seems that even though they had been travelling together, the topic hadn’t really been discussed until their captain announced it proudly a few moments prior.
The man at the end, with two-tone hair, raises his hand and plainly adds, “I ate two, technically.”
Deku falls over at the notion.
From under the bar, he watches Tsu as she uncaps the last few beers for their guests and opens a tab before the group disperses into the already crowded room. Booths were filling up and the pool table consistently had a game being run. The jukebox in the corner shuffles through a variety of genres creating an awkward but amusing playlist for the tipsy folk to sway to as they laughed merily.
The crew of pirates that Kacchan had brought into his bar that evening were an odd sort, but they fit into the establishment with minimal effort. Even so, he supposes, when Kacchan set out three years ago in search of being the Pirate King, rounding up a crew to match his inane endeavours would only make sense. An entire boat full of the most powerful people on the planet? On par with Kacchan.
It’s rare to meet one Devil Fruit eater, never mind seeing nine living and working together. And on a pirate ship? Unheard of, impossible even. The ocean is not a friend to those who choose to sin by tasting the juices of a Devil Fruit.
The captain in question peers over the bar just to jeer at Deku as he lies on the sticky wooden floor below. The fluorescent lighting above makes Kacchan glow yellow.
“Told ya’, nerd. Only the best for Captain Katsuki.” His usual unruly blond hair had been flattened over the months of wearing his wide-brim black hat. The skull and cross-bones sign on the front are less menacing than the glint in his eyes. “If they want to get on my ship, they’ve got to have what it takes.”
Next to him, one crewmate remains. A tall woman with dark hair pulled back into a slick ponytail.
She smiles weakly. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t eat any Devil Fruit.”
“Even better!” Bakugou barks out a mean round of laughter before taking a swig of his beer. His scattered crew all lift their bottles in cheers, instinctively celebrating along with their captain. “She’s just a brainiac and can read maps like a boss.”
The navigator flusters at the compliment and Deku’s jaw hits the floor.
Kacchan doesn’t hand out such kind words effortlessly. She, even with a lack of evident power, has earned her spot in Kacchan’s crew.
When they were six, Kacchan got his hands on the Blast Blast Fruit.
It changed everything.
Not that Bakugou wasn’t powerful from birth — even as a baby, Bakugou was able to command those around him with no more than a look. He ruled their little island with an iron fist — playtime and preschool were merely his practicing grounds before he made his way to the water. In his preteens, he jumped from crew to crew to learn the ropes, and at 16, he set his sails for a better view.
Three years later, Kacchan is back. The memory makes Deku shiver.
He accepts Tsu’s outstretched hand to stand up and avoids her disdainful look. His friend, and best barmaid, snaps her fingers in front of his face.
“Come on, Izuku, it’s a full house. With or without the Dynamight Pirates, we need to serve.”
“Right!” Deku agrees and closes the tab that Tsu had opened for Kacchan. He shakes his head subtly when Tsu huffs. “Listen, when he’s Pirate King, he’ll pay us back. With interest, I promise!” The man in question was being dragged to a booth by two of his crewmembers, loudly disagreeing and causing some of the regular patrons to shift away. “They’ve been at sea for only the gods know how long. We can’t expect them to pay.”
“They’re pirates, Izuku. They’ve got treasure.” Tsu reminds him, flicking his forehead painfully. “You know, plundering and pillaging and all that. They can pay, you’re just soft. Your business is barely staying afloat as it is. Do you really want to be the reason it sinks?”
“Fine then, I don’t expect family to pay. Your brother and sister eat for nothing, don’t they? Well, Kacchan is my brother.”
Tsu swallows, glancing over to the man that Deku practically idolizes. While she had grown up on the same island as the boys, they were never close until Deku hired her for the bar only a year ago. She used to watch the two boys duke it out on the beach, yelling and shouting about defeating sea monsters and waving sticks around like they were swords.
Now though, Bakugou has grown larger than the both of them.
She and Deku were content to stay home, to be with their loved ones, but Bakugou?
“He never wrote back to you.”
“Letters can get lost at sea.”
Bakugou needed to be with the waves.
They were the only movement that ever brought him peace.
“So can people, Izuku.” Tsu clips quietly as she grabs her tray and towel. “Stay true, okay? Bakugou-kun was your best friend, and that’s special, but you’ve got different dreams now, don’t you?”
Deku grabs a clean rag from the sink and begins to wipe at the bartop. Tsu, reading his tension with ease, slides under the latch and heads to the main social area — ready to top up some drinks and ensure they were paid accordingly. If Deku let his heart guide him, then Tsu brought him back onto their path with her head.
He’s thankful to have her around. He knows how hard it is to be lost.
Dreams, Deku knows, can also get lost at sea.
Kacchan would become King of the Pirates. Deku has known this since they were children, this is Kacchan’s dream. And with such a strong crew at his side, he would soon be wearing All Might’s lost crown.
Deku can see it now: the thrill and the spirit, all of it, within his old friend’s grasp.
'Katsuki, King of the Pirates. Has a nice ring, doesn’t it?'
And who was going to stop that dream from coming true?
“Oooh, that is too damn bad, gramps! Looks like you lost again!”
Several old men cheer goodheartedly as the young woman racks in her winnings. The pile of coins tumbles as she drags it across the round table with excitement in her eyes. They pat him on the back pityingly while asking her for another round.
“Now, now, gentlemen, I think I’ve done enough damage to your retirement funds tonight, don’t you? It’s time for me to go.”
And just in time, with the sun officially setting and the streets becoming livelier. As the day ends, she knows that bigger fish will come out to play.
“I taught you too well, Ochako-chan.” Torino, the sore loser, pretends to weep as she counts each coin before adding it to her pack. “You’ve got to give us the chance to win it back. That’d be the fair thing to do!”
Ochako fumbles the only golden coin in the pile, buried beneath silver and bronze. She bends under the table to retrieve it and rolls her eyes at the old man’s exaggeration. Not only is he a sore loser, but he’s a sucker — just like the rest of them.
She’s a master at her craft, after all.
The red sky, alight with the setting sun, reminds her that she’ll have to be up in the air again before morning. A storm was brewing in the South and she’d get stuck if she didn’t pick up a current soon – the rest has been nice, but she’s got to keep moving.
“This girl needs her beauty rest!” Ochako forces a good-natured giggle as she pops back up and hurriedly sweeps the rest of the coins into the pack. “I appreciate the lesson, Torino-san, though. I’ll make sure to put my new skills to use.”
The short man yowls and his friends taunt him, and their sounds draw more attention than she is worth. Just as Ochako stands, Torino – whom she had entertained over the course of a few drinks – winks at her.
“Best of luck, girlie. You’ll need it out there.”
Out there is where she came from, but regardless, she could use the extra luck.
The loudest bar on the block is near the end, across from the equally busy inn that she had been staying in since she had arrived. She crosses the street and strolls past several groups of people, pirates and villagers alike. It’s been a good stopover thus far, her money-pack more stuffed than usual after only a few nights' rest. With hardly any Marine presence, and her window looking out over the docks, she can see whoever arrives before they see her.
Which is why she was excited for tonight’s prospects.
She, and the locals of the island, had all heard the rowdy Dynamight Pirates roll in with the tide that afternoon. Every single conversation that day had been about one or all of the notorious big-bounty pirates under Captain Katsuki’s reign.
Bakugou Katsuki, as it turns out, is a legend. The people love him.
Deku, the bar owner and Katsuki’s biggest fan, greets her happily the moment she wanders in. He’s already told her too much about himself, about his idol, about his town. Unknowing to him, she’s swiped from several of his patrons and kept him utterly distracted by whatever topics kept him tickled: Katsuki was at the top of the list. Tsuyu, on the other hand, looks at Ochako like she can see right through her. And, in her defence, it’s instinctual — loaded dice, flirting, inconspicuous shadows; she knows her way around winning. Tsuyu has the right idea.
She wouldn’t have made it out there without cashing in on her natural charm and the stupidity of others. If her hand just so happens to find its way into someone’s open pocket as they touch her hip, as they pay for her drink, as they suspect her naivety for acceptance, then so be it.
Such as Torino: letting the old man think that he taught her how to play shoji, letting him take the first few rounds, until ultimately winning it all back is one of the oldest tricks in the book.
‘Oh! Poor, pretty me. I’m so clueless. Teach me, senpai!’
Ochako cringes at the memory and finds an open barstool. Winning it all back, with interest added as she thumbs at the nifty-looking pocket watch she had unclipped from his cape, is worth it.
Thief is such a…boring word. ‘Artist’ has a better ring to it.
Deku nods at her as he cleans an oversized ale mug. “Back again?”
She can hardly hear him over the extra noise brought in by the guests of honour.
“Catching the air-train in the morning, but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Your hospitality is unmatched!” Ochako watches him with an intense stare as he uncaps the same beer she’s been ordering for the past few nights. It smells like oranges and tastes like piss, but it’s cheap. It’s all she can manage until someone starts buying for her. As such, she tilts her head and bats her eyelashes, and looks for the confirmation that she needs before putting her plan into place. “It’s busy in here tonight. Is it a special occasion?”
Tsuyu, the more level-headed barmaid who never leaves Deku’s side, slides behind the bar with a tray full of empty glasses. She clicks her tongue at the thought. “Depends who you ask.” Deku sends Tsuyu a quick, but stern, look which she promptly ignores. “The Dynamight Pirates are certainly special, but for a few different reasons. Not worth it, in my humble opinion.”
But…they’re worth so much. Each one of the crew members had a bounty not only thanks to their incredible powers but also their incredible fights. The ship’s total collection was over half a billion berries. Of course, Ochako isn’t a bounty hunter, but if their bounties are as high as the sky, then their ship must be equally prosperous.
Ochako isn’t a fan, per se, but she does follow the news. They stand out on the East sea with their Devil Fruit — salt water usually drives away those who were unfortunate enough to taste the bitter juice. But not the Dynamight Pirates, oh no. Captain Katsuki, in all his glory, only wanted those who could keep up with him, who could benefit him, on his ship.
The goal to build the best crew is not lost on the general public, and it’s not lost on Ochako either.
A whole boat full of people who can’t swim.
It’s a disaster waiting to happen and yet…
Swivelling around on the bar stool, Ochako surveys the room. She crosses her legs, letting the skirt of her already short dress shift to reveal more of her sun-kissed skin. The small blade, hidden by the shadow of her thigh, is like a lifeline. Several sets of eyes watch her every movement, though she doubts anyone can see past what she allows them to.
At the beginning of her career, this was a problem. Now, seasoned with the highs and lows of her art form, being watched is the greatest way to go undetected. Himiko taught her that a girl’s strength came from being able to control how they were perceived. So, Ochako controls their perception.
She keeps her walls high and her expectations low, and at the end of the day, she walks away free — which is all she really wants.
What she needs is a different matter altogether.
The Dynamight Pirates are embarrassingly easy to pin amongst the other patrons. They look just like their bounty posters and don’t shy away from their titles; the back wall of Deku’s bar is lined with each update of Katsuki’s wanted posters, surrounded by his crewmates. The pictures go as far as to indicate where their matching exploding-heart tattoos are located.
She finds them somewhat pushed together between a few tables. Kirishima Eijirou (71, 000, 000), the famous first mate, hardens his fist as he protects his plate of tempura from the skilled hands of Sero Hanta (69, 000, 000), the ship’s doctor. Kaminari Denki (69, 000, 000), their musician, flirts openly with Kodai Yui (53, 000, 000), who works as their interpreter. Awase Yosetsu (53, 000, 000) shushes him and tries to create a boundary between the pushy blond and their quiet scholar, and from Ochako’s memory, he makes all the repairs on the ship. Monoma Neito (72, 000, 000), their helmsman, is not only an ex-Marine but also masters many roles with his own Devil Fruit. He leans against the back of the booth and sips the same beer that she’s drinking, pleased to see the crew cause minor chaos.
Yaoyorozu Momo (94, 000, 000), who stands next to him, has the second-highest bounty. Ochako’s brows jut up at seeing the powerless, but beautiful, runaway. Years ago, around the same time that Ochako had taken to the sea, Momo did too, but for a different reason. Even though her name chimes true with influence, the navigator leads the motley crew across the sea and away from the pull of her family. She is very pretty and often speaks on behalf of the crew, with Yui at her side. Rumours said that the two female pirates were the only ones on the ship with any sense about them when the tide got rough.
Todoroki Shouto (85, 000, 000), son of the famous Fleet Admiral Enji, doesn’t go looking for trouble, but he often finds it nonetheless. Now, for instance, Shouto listens with a bored expression on his face as a makeshift bachelorette party encloses around him by the bathroom.
Ochako counts them out, reviewing their powers and pasts, clocking them with numbers that she had only ever dreamt about being worth. Her current bounty sits at 0, and it will remain there as long as she does her job well. She can’t get caught if no one watches her. And, once again, the job is too easy, as the Dynamight Pirates are blinded by their egos. She takes another swig of her beer, tilting her chin up to look at the yellow lights.
They’re all here. Their boat is unguarded.
It’s a disaster waiting to happen and yet…
And yet, someone is watching her.
Captain Bakugou Katsuki (100, 000, 000) has not stopped watching her since she entered the bar.
Bounty posters are not exactly masterpieces, but Ochako knew of a hundred or so fans of Katsuki’s that had his up in their rooms. And she gets it, it’s a good-looking poster. He’s basically smouldering in it, the flash of the camera working in his favour. Those fans would be tickled pink to know that Katsuki is actually better in person.
Ashy blond hair, carmine red eyes, and an even tan stretching across his hard body, earned from fighting for his life while taking others. The scars that etch across his bare skin are the only sign she needs to believe that the stories are true.
His bounty poster doesn’t do him justice.
He’s the pirate people imagine when they fantasize about being swept away.
Bodice ripping, walking the plank. All of that, with the occasional sword fight filled with sexual tension.
His sneer alone is worth 100, 000, 000 berries.
It’s a permanent fixture on his otherwise very handsome face.
“So, where to next?”
Ochako rips her attention away from the pseudo-captain and smiles demurely at the bartender. Deku is a sweetheart and smart enough to keep his tip jar out of her reach.
“Pardon?”
“You said you’re taking the sky-train. Where are you heading?”
She nods, blinking rapidly at her faux pas. “Oh, West! I have business in the Shima Archipelago.”
“Shima? Wouldn’t it be faster to sail? The air-train has the worst transfers after you cross the Poto Port.” Deku is a sweetheart and smart, but he is still just as simple as the rest of them. “I could get you on board with a crew that’s heading there if you want. Cheap, too.”
“I prefer flying over sailing.” The magical word echoes in her ears but Ochako is far stronger than justifying a sweet deal. “Besides, I don’t know how to swim.”
This is a lie.
Deku (sweet and smart and simple) registers the click in her tone and drops the idea.
They meet like this:
She follows Yaoyorozu Momo into the bathroom.
Okay…that sounds bad. But it works.
Her initial plan was to have Denki hit on her but based on how his Captain’s eyes make him shrink back – how his sneer deepens every time the poor musician even looks in her direction – Ochako thought this would be quicker. After Momo downs her third drink, Ochako dashes to the bathroom and steals all the toilet paper out of one of the stalls.
It’s hands-down one of the most immature maneuvers she’s ever done, but it works.
Ochako waits patiently in the stall next to it and grins at the sound of Momo’s sandals.
Oh darn followed by …I’m sorry to bother you but… and soon enough the two girls were the best of friends in the little bathroom. Ochako offers the prettiest pirate she’s ever seen in her life a piece of gum to help with the bad beer breath and Momo offers a makeup refresher. Her long black hair is tied back into a high ponytail and her lips are naturally a shade of red that Ochako envies.
An exploding heart tattoo is neatly hidden behind her ear. It’s easily covered but close to what matters the most. Every fragile heart needs a strong head.
They leave the bathroom together and Ochako immediately finds a place at the crew's booth. She sits between Momo and Eijirou, and across from Neito, and Yui, and Shouto — pretending to not know their names.
‘Just passing through! It’s my first time seeing the world!’ Ochako gleams and Momo bursts with kinship. They each share a bit of themselves and Shouto buys another round, and soon enough, Ochako is in. She’s played this game a million times before.
Give them something, and then take everything.
And they meet like this:
He waits until there’s a lull in the conversation (a shark, biding his time) and then strikes. Yosetsu is careful with his approach; Momo is a big wave, after all.
“Is that a new shirt, Momo-chan?”
He looks everywhere but her shirt.
If he looks at her shirt, he’d be looking at her tits, and Ochako doubts he could handle that.
“I bought it today. Katsuki’s mom took Yui and me shopping in town. Do you like it?”
It looks fantastic on her. “You look fantastic.” Ochako says on his behalf. He almost short circuits as Ochako pets at the lovely sleeve and nudges him. “Don’t you agree, Yosetsu-kun? Doesn’t she look fantastic?”
Momo thanks them and Yosetsu agrees dumbly, and as she wanders away to remind Katsuki not to scare the patrons (threatening them by slicing a thumb over his neck every time someone approaches is not appropriate!), he lets out a gasp of air.
“How the fuck did you know?” In less than an hour, she read him. “Don’t fucking do that. Gods almighty, are you trying to kill me? Something is wrong with you.”
“You’re welcome.” Ochako scoffs. After less than twenty minutes of observation, his crush was painfully obvious — not that Ochako blames him. “I gave you a great lead and all you can manage is to act like…well, like that?”
Yosetsu shakes his head from her, to Momo, to their captain, and then back to her. He can’t do anything (about her, or this), so he clenches his fists and almost welds his hands closed.
“Fuck off.”
He stomps away, in the opposite direction of Momo, and as far away from Ochako as he can.
She finds a tattoo on the back of his leg as he stomps away.
His shorts aren’t long enough to cover the exploding heart halfway up his calf.
And they meet like this:
“Our navigator says that you are quick-witted. How she concluded that after sharing a dirty mirror is beyond me, but she is smart, so…” He waves his hand absently, unsure if he trusts Momo’s initial judgement.
He’s right, obviously. Momo has made the wrong call.
But, worse, Monoma Neito shares something in common with Ochako — something that she doesn’t like.
“Not nearly as smart as she, I’m afraid.” She clucks her tongue as she stands by the jukebox. The selection is sparse, but manageable. The blond comes up next to her and openly judges her choices as she inserts her coins.
“Well, I’m surrounded by fools.” Neito pulls out a deck of cards from his jacket and begins to shuffle them blindly. It’s a test. “Care for a game?”
With his crewmates watching from a distance, he teaches her one that she already knows, but she lets him take the lead anyway. It’s one from a past life, one that is rarely seen among civilians.
One that he learned on a training ship before becoming a traitor and one that Ochako memorized out of desperation.
His light-coloured eyes are transfixed on how her hands move, how her face reveals only what she wants him to see. He, just like those she feared in her past, doesn’t want to see anything else.
Neito is ignorant of his own sight. Katsuki watches for him.
She can’t help but win.
“You’ve played before.” Perhaps Neito is smarter than Momo, or at least more observant than Ochako had initially thought. “You’re a trained sailor?”
“Just lucky.” Ochako laughs and plays off the bad energy by refusing the gold coin he had bet.
When he reaches out to shake her hand, she refuses and says that he must buy her a drink instead. Tradition is strong amongst the Marines, and they both know this, so he agrees.
He turns to the bar, and she follows.
She watches how his exploding heart sits on his shoulder. Katsuki watches her.
And they meet like this:
Hanta is a gentleman. Surprisingly, so.
He makes her snort from laughing and offers her his sweater when someone leaves the front door open and when Denki gets too close, even with Katsuki’s silent warnings, Hanta stays closer in order to deter the handsy pirate. Ochako pets his shoulder-length black hair, and when he asks her to braid it, she gladly does.
Whatever flags their captain has set up for the flirty blond clearly don’t apply to the lanky doctor in training. This, for whatever reason, makes Ochako crave more.
“Must be lonely at sea.” She smirks over the rim of her drink and Hanta’s brows furrow. “You bounce island to island, fighting monsters and the Marines.”
“The Dynamight Pirates are like family.” Though his voice sounds wistful, his face still remains tense. “We keep each other company.”
“Oh, you do?” Ochako’s brows scoop upwards in naive shock, and then after a beat, she curls her lips and taps the table. “Oh, I bet you do.”
“It’s not like that .” Hanta backtracks and Ochako laughs at his blush. “Okay, sometimes it is like that. We’re…we’re kind of a big deal. In the East, at least. So we don’t like uh…distracted by booty too often, if you know what I mean.”
She loudly smacks the table this time, easing his nerves. “Gods, I was always so curious about the dynamics of pirates. Pillaging and plundering and all that, sure, but you and your crew, you don’t seem to be the type to take what shouldn’t be taken.” Hanta runs a hand through his hair, feeling out the few braids that she’s weaved in. “It makes sense! What happens at sea, stays at sea.”
His fingers catch on one braid by accident and promptly ruins the loose chunk. Ochako sighs and sits up again to fix it. His apology is mumbled but appreciated.
“So, tell me. Which booty do you prefer?”
Ochako clips the braid behind his ear and pats his cheek.
As he leans back again, his tank top dips low to reveal where he keeps his heart: tattooed on his ribs. It looks like it’s trying to break out, to free itself from the bony cage.
And they meet like this:
For being the fallen son of an admired admiral, Shouto lacks military tact.
“Do you deny knowing us, then?”
He slides in at the booth and squeezes her into the corner with zero consideration for Hanta, who sits across from them. His eyes seem stormy, but not intoxicated, as he asserts himself into their conversation.
Ochako cradles back and looks up at him from under her lashes, but he doesn’t waver. With a shrug, she proves her innocence. “Why does it matter if I know who you are? We’re having fun, aren’t we?”
“Yaomomo and I are–”
“I know what you are, Shouto. You are nothing like your…” Ochako hangs onto the word carefully. Flip of the coin. “...brother.” If her admission worries him, he doesn’t show it. “But I’m not sure who are you.”
Hanta, ever the gentleman, loops his arm around Shouto and directs him toward the pool table. Shouto, with one last glance, flips a coin of his own: which brother? Not that one was better than the other – but at least she didn't mention his father.
Ochako is thankful for this as well.
He doesn’t show her his heart. Updated bounty reports state that it’s more personal than the others.
And they meet like this:
“Come on, dude! You love dancing!”
Denki is drunk. He’s begging his friends, specifically Hanta, to dance with him.
The energetic blond pretends to tango by himself, in a pathetic manner, as if that was going to trick the taller medic.
Hanta is not drunk, though. Or at least not drunk enough.
Neither is Ochako, but when Denki extends his hand and promises to buy her next drink (something sweet, with a little umbrella), she has a hard time saying no. With a demure smile, she glances over to where Captain Katsuki sits with Yosetsu and Shouto, and it doesn’t surprise her to see that he’s still watching.
He’s still sneering. It makes her slightly unsteady.
So, she accepts. “Two drinks!”
“Two dances, then.”
“Two drinks and an app. I’m starving! Final offer.”
“Deal!”
He’s not a bad dancer – flip of the coin of how coordinated he’d be if he were sober, but for now, all that matters is that each time he spins her, he catches her. The music is fast and fun and Denki’s hands drift from her waist to her hips and she doesn’t mind this part of the game. She’s numb, so it’s easy, and it’s better than some of her prior targets. Denki’s tendency to grab her ass and slosh his drink is a price she’s willing to pay.
One dance turns into two, and soon three, then four, then five.
With his hands in the air, waving them like he just doesn’t care, Ochako doubles over at the sight of an exploding heart tattoo on his lower back. The placement of the crew’s branding suits him.
He tells her tales of the Dynamight Pirates. They’re all true. Everything she’s heard.
The tables are shuffled as other patrons join them. Eijirou downs another shot and drags Hanta to his feet, with Momo waving Neito over. Yui claps on the sideline with Yosetsu and Shouto. Katsuki is nowhere to be seen.
And they meet like this:
“So what’s the deal with your captain?”
Eijirou seems surprised that she’s talking to him. In fact, he flinches as she saddles up next to him at the booth to rest her feet from dancing but isn’t fast enough or subtle enough to make a clean exit. From their position, she can see Denki approach a lady at least twice his age with unbridled confidence. Hanta, Yosetsu, and Neito encourage him from the sidelines. Yui watches painfully. Shouto and Momo are chatting quietly at the bar with Deku.
“What do you mean?”
“Where’d he go? I would have liked to officially introduce myself since he was staring holes into the back of my head all evening.” Ochako jokes and swipes a few discarded deep-fried goodies from their shared table. Denki didn’t have any qualms about her ordering the biggest appetizer plate on the menu. No one would notice and this might be the last real meal she has for a while. “Is he shy or something?”
Eijirou finally cracks a smile. “Him? No, definitely not. He’s a man of routine. Early to bed, early to rise.”
Ochako’s stomach shoots up her throat and bile burns the back of her mouth.
“He’s gone to bed? Back to your ship?”
“Most likely! This really isn’t his scene, but we always drag him out for a few rounds after a successful stint at sea.” Eijirou explains, his smile growing. He seems happy to be talking about his beloved captain, despite the sweat that breaks out on Ochako’s forehead. “I can introduce you later, if you’d like? Tomorrow?”
“I’ll be gone by the time the sun rises.”
“He’s early to rise, Ochako,” Eijrou reminds her kindly. “And I’m sure he wants to meet you, too. Like you said, you caught his attention.”
Her plans go out with the tide. They aren’t all here. Their boat is guarded.
It’s a disaster waiting to happen and yet…
She still feels the need to try.
So she steals his beer, right from under his nose, and heads back to the dance floor.
Eijirou watches her as she goes. His exploding heart tattoo sits on his bicep.
And they meet like this:
The fresh air knocks some sense back into her.
She can hear Denki hurling in a bush off to the side. Hanta rubs his back, cooing and laughing at the same time as the musician tries to get a grip on his drunkenness. Deku pops his head out the door and hands her a few sticks of takoyaki, along with another beer. His face turns green at the sound of Denki getting sick and disappears back into his bar.
"Don't you love the smell of the sea?"
Ochako grins at the sight of her new companion taking another deep breath, one of dozens.
“I can’t help but love it!”
Momo twirls in the street. Her long skirt and crop top flow in the breeze, and she glows white against the dark backdrop. Yui seems indifferent, with wide eyes and a tipsy stance. She doesn’t say much, holding her liquor well.
She looks at Momo like light emits from her. On her ankle, an exploding heart.
Lights shine from the handful of businesses that were still open.
“Did you know that saltwater by itself doesn’t have any smell?" Ochako steps into the street too, leaving the embrace of the bar to watch the navigator stumble drunkenly. Yui holds out her hand, looking for guidance. "The things that live in it certainly do, though! The rather stale smell is dimethyl sulphide. It's produced by the bacteria as they digest dead phytoplankton! And at low tide, you’ll also smell chemicals called dictyopterenes, which are sex pheromones produced by seaweed eggs to attract the sperm. And on top of all that is the iodine smell of the sea, which is actually the bromophenols produced by marine worms and algae."
Yui giggles. It’s the first sound she’s made all night.
And this is how they meet.
"So...I'm sniffing bacteria shit and…sex hormones?"
Captain Katsuki gruffly eyes his friend, grabbing hold of Ochako’s shoulder in order to keep her in place. Momo, with her arms in the air, cocks her head back and sighs at the sound of her leader’s sarcasm.
“That’s a crude way of describing it, Katsuki, but yes, I suppose so.”
He comes from the direction of the docks. He’s back.
“I think it’s pretty cool!” Ochako counters, fully aware of how tight the captain’s hand lays on her arm. His fingers don’t exactly dig in, but they leave a mark. She eats a dumpling regardless of his presence. “You know so much about the sea, Momo-chan.”
“I…–I love the sea. It calls to me. I want to see the whole world. I want to discover somewhere new.” Ochako’s ticket into the powerful crew smiles brightly, rising to the tips of her toes as if she were waiting for the wind to cast her into the calm waters. “Somewhere that’s never been found before. Somewhere just for m–”
“That’s enough, Momo.”
Her head falls forward in a small apology at the sound of Katsuki’s snap.
“I know, I know. I just feel so free when we’re out there, and I’m sure that Ochako understa–”
“I said that’s enough, Momo.”
“Gods, Kacchan, no need to get grouchy! You were all having a good time tonight, thanks to little miss. It’s nice having you home, but you can’t scare Ochako away, okay?” Deku rejoins them, with a tray of water. Hanta thanks him and forces the drink into Denki’s hands. “Why don’t you guys head back in? I want to spend some time with your captain.”
Momo helps Hanta carry Denki back into the bar, and Yui closes the door behind them, leaving Deku to release Ochako from Katsuki’s grasp.
“You could stay a few more days, you know. Your parents were so happy to see you. My mom misses you, too.” Deku pats Katsuki’s back, and swiftly dodges the punch that is thrown his way. It’s enough of a distraction to let Ochako lunge away and she rounds out her sore shoulder. Deku points at her, though, before she can fully vanish into the night. “You too! You should stay a few more days. There will always be another air-train, or the Dynamight Pirates can take you to Shima.”
“Fuck that.” Katsuki says exactly what Ochako’s thinking. “Only crew is allowed on the KEM.”
The KEM. The name of their ship. Their unguarded ship.
“It’s already late and my air-train leaves early. I’ve paid for my ticket, which I would hate to waste. But maybe next time?” Ochako munches on the last few dumplings before twisting the stick between her fingers. The piece of wood, slightly covered in sauce, slides easily until she tosses it toward the unsuspecting captain. Katsuki catches it like he was expecting it. He has been watching her, after all. “While I appreciate your hospitality, I really do have to head to bed.”
In a few hours, he’d be a different man — a poorer man.
“You’ll come back, right? I’d hate to never see a good friend again.”
To keep up the charade, she does her best to never return to a place twice.
Being recognized makes the game harder. Being out there where no one knows her makes more sense.
Ochako skips backwards, across the street, until she enters the archway of the inn. From there, she can hear the two old childhood friends bicker and the music inside the bar somehow gets louder – Denki must be back on his feet again.
She gives the middle-aged receptionist a flick of her wrist and feigns a headache. She’s technically paid her dues already, with a discount thanks to an old Marine card that she had swiped a year or so ago, which means the inn has given her no troubles.
And hopefully, the sound of her window (to help with headache, obviously) doesn’t draw attention. The room is small and empty, aside from the bed and cupboard. A small table with one chair holds her backpack. It’s open and doesn’t carry much – trading in this town had been good.
Her raft, with tucked the sail rolled in, leans against the wall.
She rifles through her backpack quickly and grabs the small metal kit. Ochako debates changing clothes, but decides that the little dress does her enough favours in case this all goes south – this being a leap from the third floor.
Hopefully no one is stargazing, as she floats rather than sinks.
Scrambling up the side of the building, Ochako breathes deeply as she reaches the thatched roof and crouches low. On the other side, Deku’s bar. To her left though, the harbour. Ships of all sizes bob with the rocking waves, but she easily spots her target. The jolly roger – the exploding heart – stretches across the main mast.
A whole boat full of people who can’t swim. Their boat is unguarded.
Treasure calls to her, just like the sea calls to Momo.
It’s a disaster waiting to happen and yet…
The ship commands the attention of those at the dock.