Sparks *

I woke up to the lovely squawking and cries of seagulls sitting outside. With a loud groan, I rolled over on my bed, tugging the covers over my head to block the noise.

"Just… shut up…" I told no one, eye scrunching. When the sounds continued, I opened them blearily. Rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands, I waited a couple seconds, silently willing them to stop. I found sweet relief when they did, in fact, halt, but they returned soon enough. Annoyed, I threw the covers off I, grabbed the closest thing I could throw and dragged myself to the door, pushing it open. Stepping outside, I pulled back my arm and threw the object I grabbed, which I found out was one of my shoes, at the animal. It flapped its wings, rising from the ship's railing and flying away with a shrill cry, essentially censoring the colourful words I yelled after it.

After the creature was well above me, I sighed and seized my shoe from the floor.

Mornings.

my eyes rolled to the sparkling blue ocean, and I sighed again. It was time to set sail. my crew would be pissed at me, but they knew I was afraid of being attacked while docked. There was less advantage, and who knew what could happen if the villagers here decided to band together and fight me. I had also learned that staying on an island for more than a week was the worst decision I could ever make. It gave both the marines and thieves the chance to try and kill me and snatch whatever I had salvaged. The first time I had set anchor, I'd stayed at the island I'd stopped at for four days. On one of those nights, I was knocked over with a knife to my throat while heading to bed.

Obviously, I hadn't allowed the idiot to get away. I had promptly kicked him in that unspoken place then set sail.

But speaking of attacks, was that a marine ship in the distance? The familiar insignia and the giant words printed carefully on the sails told me as much.

"…"

So yes, yes it was.

Cursing and rubbing my eyes again, I yelled, "GET UP! MARINES!" And ran back to my room, dressing in my usual attire and strapping several weapons onto my body. Two flintlocks strapped to my chest, two swords at each hip, several daggers, and another flintlock at my lower back. Such was the life of a normal human with nothing but her weapons and her combat-skills at her disposal.

I could already hear my crew calling several things outside, most of the comments actually being complaints, and I went outside again to yell my own commands. Soon, I was sailing towards the enemy at full speed, ready to ram them to the bottom of the ocean. Arms crossed, I glared hard at the approaching marines, their ship easily overshadowing me. I didn't let that frighten me.

I was already expecting their first shot. I was also expecting it to miss. It was what the Marines did each time as a warning as an order to back down, but their demands went unheard. Soon enough, a cannonball was flying through the air towards me. Instead of meeting my ship, though, it hit the water a good distance away and I huffed. Really, with all the ships I had sent to their doom, I'd expect them to skip the warning shot and go straight for the kill. It'd been so far that it hadn't even seemed like a warning shot, either.

"Their aim is still as shitty as ever." I mumbled, before turning the ship and signalling to my crew to fire. Cannonballs zipped back and forth, with several shouts and commands leaving my lungs in hurried words. The racing of my heart and the constant screaming from my friends kept me grounded, and I exhaled shakily, excitement buzzing inside me.

It was long before I covered some distance. Since my ship was still damaged from my last raid, I had ordered my crew to keep it away. Then, I moved in. Due to the constant movement, it took a while to finally get some good hits in. But when I did, excited cheers rose above the sound of waves crashing and cannons firing, bringing a wicked smile to my face. I added to the screaming with my own hollers, savouring the strength they provided me. My crew was strong, I knew that, but there was always that sliver of fear in my heart that could easily be turned into something worse if provoked. And I could not let that happen.

When the marines quit firing, I angled my ship towards them and rammed the head into them full speed, both ships groaning and protesting at the sudden impact. The tip of my ship was digging painfully into the other's side, creating a large gash and sending sailors off balance. Water seeped into the gap, and I feared that the ship would sink before I could board it, but it remained afloat. More sounds of sharp cracking reached me, and I knew I had now created a weak spot on their ship. Moving away, I distanced my ship from the enemy again.

"We're not going to get a chance like that again, Haruka." One of my members told me, still watching the enemy's ship as I continued to space myself from them. I gave the other ship a thoughtful look, before nodding in agreement.

"Move closer!" I ordered, gaining my crewmembers' attention, "We're going to board these fuckers right now!" Cheering reached my ears again, and I breathed an airy laugh that was cut short when a cannonball cracked against the side of my ship. It swayed unsteadily for a bit, and I held onto the nearest railing, the people on board doing the same. Growling, I turned my ship again, closing in again within less than a minute.

When the gap between ne and the enemy was reduced, I took several steps back before running full speed to the edge of my ship, using the railing as a stepping stone towards my goal. I landed on their ship with a thud, rolling forward as I pulled two of my guns free and fired at the two closest men. The two fell to the ground, clutching the spots where the bullets pierced their skin. I turned to another pair, unsheathing my swords and striking them down in a flurry of calculated motions. This continued on for a while, and not too long afterwards, some of my crew joined me in battle.

All the screaming and yelling made it hard to really hear anyone sneaking up on me, and as I was fighting another man, I didn't notice a scrawny looking boy with a sword in his shaking hand coming up behind me until it was too late. The sword pierced my side as I moved to the left, and I let out a short cry, my own blood covering the shiny blade. Stumbling, I paused but did not allow my mind to register what had happened. I quickly turned, cutting down my attacker with a grimace on my flushed face. He collapsed, his sword flying from his grasp, but whether he was dead or not I did not know. Panting, I checked out my brand new injury, annoyed and mortified at the fact that I'd been stabbed.

"First time for everything, I suppose…" I said as I placed a hand on my side, the warm liquid seeping from the gash staining my clothes and dirtying my fingers. For being so scared and nervous, the guy sure had cut deep, and as I continued to strike down more and more men (where the hell did they keep coming from?), I felt myself gradually grow dizzier and my movements get sloppier. Blood dripped onto the ground, its crimson trail following me and giving my position away to those that wanted to kill me themselves. Most had given up on fighting my crew and aimed to end this by targeting me, but I continued giving it my best.

I spun around, focusing on another group giving some of my mates a hard time. Slipping past more of my attackers, I charged at a man whose back was to me. Launching myself forward, I landed on his back, pushing him to the ground. The man yelped in surprise, and before he could make another noise, I was unsheathing one of my daggers and stabbing him repeatedly. Discarding the knife, I rose from the now dead marine and blocked a blow from another, my swords clashing with a harsh clang. I pushed my sword into his, muscles straining at the effort, but he wasn't giving up. Both of us leaned back or forth in an attempt to throw the other off to no avail. Growing tired, I dodged to the side, shooting him with the flintlock I had strapped to my lower back. He too fell to the ground, and I felt the insults I was getting ready to throw his way die at my throat when the colour red flashed before my eyes and pain was the only thing I felt. I swung my sword wildly, successfully hitting my attacker and giving me some time to check for anyone else aiming their gun at me. Seeing that there was no one holding me at gunpoint as of now, I looked down at myself, seeing several tears in my clothing, as well as several darkening bruises. Adrenaline kicked in, and the searing pain in my side faded away into a dull hum.

I hadn't really noticed, but I had taken quite a few hits because of the state I was in. The blood trickling down my chin made that much clear, and so did the numerous cuts on my hands and body.

"Goddamn cowards." I growled, keeping one of my feet down and pivoting, glaring hard at the marines that had formed a circle around me. "Attacking me when I'm not looking…" Truly, it was pathetic. If they were going to fight a normal human such as myself, the least they could do was fight me properly. A fist collided with the side of my face and then I was on my knees, down to one sword and flintlock. I aimed the gun at the closest marine, but before I could put a bullet in between another man's eyes, it was booted out of my hands and I was pushed to the ground, a flinch twisting my features as I felt my most recent wounds opening even further.

Glaring with all my might, I watched as they slowly trudged towards me, all equally tired of fighting me and my crew. Speaking of my crew, I looked around with slow movements, too hurt to do anything too quickly. The sight before my eyes was, to say the least, terrifying. Bodies lay scattered across the floor, blood seeping from several wounds and slipping through the cracks between the battered floorboards. From my position, it looked like a sea of red, bodies, and abandoned swords. my vision was too blurred for I to be able to make out anyone I actually recognized, but seeing as most outfits still moving about were white and blue, I assumed that my crew was close to being wiped out.

Guess I wasn't as strong as I thought… I thought bitterly, a burst of fear sparking inside me. Pointedly, I ignored it, choosing to shake my head instead.

Well, I certainly wasn't going to go down without a fight, then. Groaning, I placed my hand on my most wounded side again, sitting up painfully slowly and sliding backwards until my back hit the foremast. I watched through half-lidded eyes and blurred vision as marines continued to stalk towards me, before they stopped, turning to one man who barked out an order that I missed. Holding up my sword, I stood on shaking legs, my free hand on the mast so I wouldn't lose my balance. I was really starting to feel sick, and dizzy—especially dizzy. Glancing down, I took in the sight of red stained clothing. Seeing all the blood and all the bodies made my eyes fill with tears, the heartache being close to suffocating me, but I wasn't about to show any weaknesses, so I blinked them away and took a deep breath.

If I were going to die, I was going to die fighting.

The marines in front of I inched forward, eyes full of what I could call determination now that their leader had spoken. Some just looked plain terrified, though. Or maybe it was my own fear making my vision hazy, too. A few mocked and taunted me, but their words never reached my ringing ears. Staying still for a bit, I gazed at them, lost in thought for a few moments. 

I could surrender and be thrown in a cell for the rest of my life to rot, or I could fight 'til one of them plunged a sword into my stomach and I joined my crewmates.

For some reason, the thought of dying made my heart jump into my throat, even though before starting all of my adventures I had accepted the fact that yes, I could indeed die. Inhaling shakily, I scanned my surroundings, finding one of my flintlocks and a crate of gunpowder not that far from where I was standing. Glancing at the men again, I tightened my grip on my side.

It was now or never.

Running to the side, I pushed past some of the marines, ducking when I heard the sound of a gunshot and sliding to the firearm on the floor. The new-found energy steadied my arm as I aimed, closing one of my eyes before firing at one of the crates on the ground, closest to one of my friends. I sighed before quickly standing again at the sound of an explosion, the explosion making the ship oscillate to and fro unsteadily. Jogging to the side of the ship, I noticed debris and a few pieces of wood floating about in the water.

I could sink this ship and run. I'd feel awful and would probably never forgive myself, but I'd be alive, and I'd be able to send every marine to their death with a couple more explosions. Perhaps send a postcard to their admirals with a big 'fuck you' written on the bottom in cursive.

It was a decent plan... wasn't it?

Quickly reloading my gun with trembling fingers, I pointed it at another crate, shooting it and making it explode as well. When I shot a third crate, the ship was shaking so much that standing was proving to be a difficult task, so I did something that I just knew I was going to regret for the rest of my life.

I jumped into the water.

My feet were the first to come in contact with the sea, and I immediately felt a cold chill slither up my spine as I fully submerged. I quickly swam towards a plank furthest away from my ship, only breaking the surface of the water when I wasn't swimming past the corpses of several marines and... I looked away, not knowing if my eyes were burning from the saltwater or from something else. Sucking in a deep breath through my mouth, I fought for purchase on the slippery surface of the wood, my breathing quickening when I heard the screams of agony of the marines as they jumped into the water as well, drowning or dying from the blaze or from other injuries.

It was chaos.

I didn't dare look back at the wreckage, knowing that if I did I'd probably break down. Heaving in a breath, I finally pulled myself onto the plank, releasing a pained grunt when I relaxed. That feeling was short-lived, though, as I realized that I was still in danger. Groaning in pain, I grabbed a piece of wood and began rowing away, muscles screaming in protest and telling me to stop, stop, stop. my makeshift oar wasn't exactly doing much to get me away, but anything was good enough for now.

I continued to row until there was a heavy silence in the air and there was nothing else around me but water. Exhaustion pulled at my eyelids and sapped my limbs of their energy, but still, I continued to row. Looking around, I quickly shook my head, successfully snapping out of my panicked thoughts of 'What do I do?' and 'Where do I go? What am I doing?' 'What have I done?'

There was an apparent tremor in my hands as I gripped my oar, my eyes wide in fear. What am I going to do now? Everyone I had befriended was now dead or left behind to die by their captain who decided her life was more important than theirs. Or maybe they were to be captured by whatever marine had survived, sentenced to death or thrown in a prison. Maybe they'd give away my location if they got the chance. 

I growled, tears blurring my vision again as I cursed myself and the marines and everything in this stupid world. I was so selfish. Even now, I am worrying more about myself than anyone else.

I pushed myself to my knees, the wood digging into the skin that wasn't covered by my pants, my grip on the oar tightening. I was so, so selfish.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I sniffed, using my free hand to wipe away the tears that rolled down my cheeks, "What the actual hell is wrong with me? How could I do that to them? What kind of captain am I?"

This continued on for a good few minutes, before I finally broke down, holding my head in my hands, "Why did this have to happen to me?!" I cried, my voice cracking and more tears falling, "I was so—How did they find us? I—They didn't deserve that! They—t-they..." I paused, shaking my head and shutting my eyes, overcome by grief and pain and everything I didn't want or need to feel right now. I kept crying until my voice was hoarse from all the screaming and my cheeks burned from all the wiping I had done.

Eventually, I calmed down, my thoughts becoming clearer as I swallowed thickly, coughing. I couldn't just go back to being the captain I used to be after what had happened to me and my crew. My mind began searching for a plan, and, for some reason or another, I eventually came to the conclusion of cutting my hair to a shorter style and living life as a man.

I snorted, but there was no humour in it. Right now, it didn't seem like such a bad idea, but could I really pass by as a man without being suspicious? I searched my pockets, a little angry at the fact that I was wearing such heavy clothing in such hot weather. The water also weighed me down, making me move sluggishly and excruciatingly slow. My hands searched until my left one stumbled upon the one hidden dagger I had not used. I tugged the blade free, flipping it absentmindedly in my hand once or twice. I could start over, and then, when the moment was right, I'd strike and make the marines pay.

I nodded slowly, agreeing with my own plan. It could work. I'd make it work.

Sighing, I slowly brought the blade to the back of my neck, grabbing my waist-length hair, making sure to have a decent sized chunk before cutting it. I felt it fall onto my back, and my heart skipped a beat. Before I could start having second thoughts, though, I cut another piece, gradually going around my entire head until it was nothing more than a pixie haircut. I wiped all the fallen hair off my shoulders, before putting the blade away and lying down under the unforgiving sun, eyes wide open and heart racing as I gazed up at the cloudless sky. The exhaustion became too much to handle after a few minutes of sitting there, so I decided to sleep, eyes slipping shut.

I didn't dream of anything good that time.