Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yearning to achieve something great in his life, Scar has decided to leave his home the second he has come of age, traveling from one place to another in search of a job of all things. He realizes too late that he needs money if he wants to survive longer than a day. So, he begins with working as a baker in a store, accidentally left the clay oven on at the highest heat for a couple of minutes, unknowingly burned the pastries into some sort of charcoal and got fired a few hours later.

Next, he tries to take his fantastic service as a butcher. The owner is going to be so happy for his contribution! It’s just cutting delicious and mouthwatering pieces of meat with a huge knife. He had cut so much firewood in his entire lifetime, he’s basically a pro.

How hard can it be?

Okay, wow. Him and his big mouth.

It turns out, it is more difficult than he expects it to be.

The tool was far heavier than he thought and accidentally threw the thing towards the shop owner, and he was dismissed not long after.

More than ten attempts and or failed employment later, he’s beginning to give up hope and cries in a random alley where no one can hear him.

Scar mindlessly wanders around town, ignoring how he keeps bumping into other people’s shoulders along the way with posture slouched, his life crushed from the daunting revelation of being unable to fulfill his dream. Sure, it’s not much but it’s something. He really, really wants to go out into the world but considering his financial crisis at the moment, he can’t even do that. Unfortunately, he’s unable to go home anymore since he basically disowned his parents for wanting to do what he loves.

Where can he go?

What should he do?

He doesn’t know anymore.

From the corner of his eye, he spots a salesman yelling words he can’t register, getting in with one ear and out with the other as he sees them walking around what looks like a wagon for a stand of their varied goods. This time, he tunes in to what they said, taking in their powerful voice and lively explanation, pulling him in and making him want to buy something.

Wow.

He wants to be like that.

Since he’s not very good at interacting with other people, shying away from any interaction at any chance he got, he had a very hard time convincing his employers to give him a second chance after messing up big time.

The strong smell of the sea distracts him, snapping him out of his thoughts. The pungent causes him to turn around and from behind, he notices the vast waters glittering under the bright sun, gaping in awe at how amazing the scenery is while he watches the enormous ships gradually approaching the docks.

Hm…

Wagon… boats…

With a loud gasp, a wonderful idea has formed in his mind after being represented with the flickering of a metaphorical candle.

He thinks he’s got it!

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Making huge progress like any other day, he expresses his gratitude with a cheeky smile and waves his hand goodbye to his last customer, before dropping his facade with a sigh of relief.

Looking back now, these past few years have been rough to say the least. As he packs the products back into their respective barrels, Scar can still vividly recall his horrifying experience when he was still struggling with earning some cash just to avoid hunger. But when he discovered that he could find many things in the trash that were thrown away but were still in good shape, he just had to make his idea into a reality after being inspired. If no one hires him, he can form his own business instead.

It's the greatest idea ever!

At first, it wasn’t a pretty sight when he kept forgetting his own lines and stumbling on them, causing his potential customers to lose interest and leave his ‘Swaggon’.

That’s right.

He’s named his fantastic land vessel as such, gradually climbing his way up until eventually, it’s no longer baby sized and is upgraded into a real land ship but with sick enormous wheels and a fancy copper roof to protect him from all sorts of weather, pulled by his adorable llama. Thus, dubbing it as ‘Lanbo’. At the same time, he also got himself a new fancy coat, vest, and top hat to seal the deal, which makes him look more like a tycoon now, but that’s not the point.

What is he doing again?

Wait, he’s sidetracked. He’s supposed to be cleaning up.

With a chuckle, he carries the last barrel into the storage area of his shop slash moving house, running towards his beloved assistant and leaves the area to continue wandering until he finds another place to set up his business. Passing by a few wooden houses, he hears something rumbling and whips his head to the side, fully vigilant from the potential danger but only sees a ragged child, squatting on the floor while their stomach growls.

Oh.

Scar digs through his coat and pant pockets, taking out a piece of bread and beelines to the kid (don’t ask how one got there in the first place). He crouches a few inches away, smiling softly as he brings the food between them while waiting for the young one to accept it. They hesitate, glancing between him and the said baked good before swiping it off his hand and frantically munching on it, making it his cue to leave.

Grimacing at the situation, he feels terrible at how powerless he is, not being able to do something as simple as helping a hungry child. No matter where he goes, the structures and amount of people may differ but all of them have similar issues, that is poverty. He can see it everywhere and one time, he even stumbled upon a teen stealing someone’s drawstring pouch. Even if he manages to get out of that harsh life, it doesn’t mean it’s not happening anymore.

Unfortunately, he’s not kind enough to offer all his earnings to every individual he encounters, otherwise he’s the one who’s going to starve. All he can do is lower his head in shame as he exits the town and heads to the next one.

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As he moves into a new place, Scar notices a sweet spot where he can park his Lanbo, settling down properly as he removes the straps off his beloved llama before bringing it inside to its own ‘bedroom’. He walks back out and takes in the cold air, stretching his sore arms above his head, causing them to crack and sigh in relief. Staring at the dark and starry sky, he pats himself on the back for his valiant efforts after coming this far.

He decides to take a look around the area, spotting the sea beside him and doesn't hesitate to sprint towards it with a gleeful smile. The stars twinkle while he allows the sea breeze to brush against his scarred skin, ruffling his messy brown locks as he walks the sandy surface, leaving bootprints behind him while the material accumulates underneath his soles. A low voice can be heard, causing him to yelp violently in place and snap his head left to right, trying to figure out the source.

Was it a ghost?

Oh, no.

He thought those weren't real!

What should he do? Should he fetch his cane sword?

Dang it!

Why did he have to leave it back at his wagon now of all times?

He frantically surveys the area and looks around for something for him to use as a weapon, only to see nothing but the clean yellow surface of the beach. People and their respect for nature.

Why do they have to be so neat and clean when he's desperate for something to throw?

The weak groan interrupts Scar's distress, making the scarred man turn pale as it draws closer.

Seriously, where is that coming from?

All of a sudden, he can feel a liquid and sticky sensation grasping at his ankle, violently jumping away as the panic overtakes his fight or flight instincts. Looking down, he notices a man lying on the ground, soaked in red liquid and colors his fancy looking uniform into the same shade.

Uh, oh.

"Oh, my gosh!" Scar exclaims in a high-pitched tone and crouches to reach the injured person's level without hesitation. "What happened?"

"I…" The man weakly utters with a croaky voice before dropping his head onto the sand face first.

"Sir?" Scar calls . "Sir!" His stomach drops.

Chapter Text

The sound of Scar's footsteps fill the silent room as he paces around in the small area across from the bed, biting his nails while his quivering body refuses to calm down.

He already carried the rich looking person all the way back to the guest bedroom, sneezed once or twice after smelling the strong scent of gunpowder, cleaned the bloodstains of what looked like a sword wound, used a few potions of regeneration to aid the person's natural healing ability, and wrapped it with bandages to avoid infections from making their situation more dire than it already is. Unfortunately, he has zero knowledge about this kind of thing, so all he can do is provide first aid and nothing else.

Due to his experience of being inflicted with all sorts of injuries, he's already used to dealing with providing treatment for himself considering how expensive going to the doctor is.

But will this suffice?

He has no idea how long this man has been wounded, but he must be gradually losing blood and needs proper treatment instead of being stuck in a land boat.

From the corner of his eye, he spots their eyes fluttering open, causing him to pounce towards their side in a blink of an eye.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay?" Scar kneels down and stresses with a small voice and furrowed brows.

His heart rages, refusing to slow down as it drums against his trembling chest, causing his anxiety to spike further.

"Where… am I?" The man questions groggily.

"You- We're in m-my shop s-slash house. I- I saw you b-by the shore- by the beach and- and…" Scar explains while wavering miserably, but he clenches his fists and digs his nails to his clammy palms. "...y-you were injured, so I- I brought you here."

The individual slowly brings a hand to their bandaged stomach, staring at it quietly until they move their gaze towards Scar's direction.

"I'm… H-How long was I out?"

"It's- Uh, the moon was h-high in the sky when I found you, so… I- I think around half a day? I'm not sure." Scar glances to the window, seeing it fully bright out. "You- I- If you're w-w-w-worried about the- your fancy clothes, they're- I cleaned and and h-have them d-d-dry under the sun." He stutters as he frantically points in random directions and throws his hands around.

They stay silent for a moment, making Scar hear only his throbbing chest as he braces for a reaction, only to have them huff and chuckle.

"You don't have to worry about those old things. You're the one who saved my life, I should be the one to owe you something after all you did for me." They softly smile and hold Scar's hand weakly. "Thank you."

The increased feeling of his body burning from overwhelming energy dies down immediately, visibly deflating as the tension finally slips from his fingers.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name. I can't just have my savior remain anonymous now, can we?" They raise a brow as they address. "I'm Cub, by the way. And I use he him pronouns." They—Cub offers a hand to shake while curving his lips into a welcoming smile.

"Fair, fair." Scar chuckles. "You can call me Scar and… I use he him also. It's nice to meet you!" He greets with a smirk and shakes the offered hand firmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Scar."

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Scar beelines to Cub's temporary bedroom, stands still in front of it as his fist hovers on the surface, grimacing as he's unable to knock on it. It's been months since the fellow brunet has been staying in his place and assisting in his business, but the time has finally come for him to leave. Since his injury has completely healed, Cub has no reason to stay with Scar anymore.

When he reminisces about the time about how Cub accidentally used salt instead of sugar for his coffee (after Scar secretly switched them), about how Scar got buried under the haystack from Cub's trap, or the time when they ran around town at night to leave golden coins (they're actually buttons painted gold) in random spots and laughed till their stomachs hurt when they got the townsfolk to fight over them, his heart skips a beat.

Biting his quivering lower lip, he crumples his chocolate vest around his aching chest, heaving quietly about how he can't accept the inevitable.

Does Cub really need to leave?

He can stay with Scar however he likes. If it's money he's worried about, the Lanbo still attracts a lot of customers everyday, so it shouldn't be an issue.

Why does he have to go?

Without warning, the door opens, meeting face to face with his said companion.

"Oh! Hi, Scar." Cub's emerald eyes narrow as he cracks a smile. "Is it time to go already?"

"I…" Scar tries to talk, but the words are stuck in his throat, clogging the airways and prevents him from breathing easily. "It's- D-Do you have to- It's not… that." He lowers his gaze to the wooden floor with a grimace. "Don't- Y-You really should s-stay for a bit longer. The- Your complexion is- is still a b-bit too pale and I'm- I'm sure you still haven't got your full strength back a-after healing for so long." He looks back up and appeals desperately while wringing his sweating hands together from behind his back.

"Scar, my friend." Cub furrows his brows and plants a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. "We've been through this many times. As much as I like to stay here, I can't." He shakes his head.

"Y-Yes, you can! I- I- There's food, you'll- you'll never go h-hungry. There's Lanbo, y-y-you can earn money here!" Scar exclaims as the back of his eyes begin to hurt.

"It's not how it works, Scar. I can't tell you what it is, but my job is very important to me." Cub appeals soothingly while making eye contact, green eyes glinting under the sunrays from the window. "I've already been in contact with my cap- superior and luckily, I wasn't forcefully removed after being gone for so long. Ironically, my contribution during the last miss- errand that almost led me to my death was what got me promoted, so I was given a second chance." He rubs his nape with an awkward chuckle.

This isn't fair.

Why can't he stay?

All the things Scar wants in his whole life have always been out of reach no matter what he does, stopping him from obtaining and fulfilling them. He wanted to paint back when he was a child, but his parents wouldn't let him. He wanted to have a pet cat like their neighbors, but it died because of a disease. He wanted to achieve something great in his life, but he's stuck in this mundane job just to feed himself.

Now that he has someone he can finally call a friend, the world has to take that away from him as well!

What did he do to deserve this?

Sensing something warm and tender on his face, he barely registers from his blurry vision that Cub is caressing his cheek.

When did he—?

"I'm sorry, Scar." Cub purses his lips as he brushes a thumb on Scar's face, wiping the tear track. "I've worked so hard to get this far, I can't give up on my lifelong dream that easily."

Dream…

"If- If you say it that way, I- I don't have much of a choice now, do I?" Scar chuckles bitterly, vigorously rubbing his teary eyes with a fist while lowering his head as a poor attempt to hide his ugly expression of disappointment.

He knows it fully well how much effort someone puts into fulfilling one's desires. All the blood, sweat, and tears that have been shed along the way to get to that point. Even if it's not something he truly wants, he worked very hard to get his business to where it is now. When someone says to abandon it, they'll have to offer something greater, far more precious than gold.

Taking a deep breath, he steels his resolve and perks up to face his friend head-on.

"Thanks, man. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." Cub expresses his gratitude with a sad smile. "I'll surely repay this debt someday." He carefully takes Scar's hand towards him, opening it fully before using hand to dig something out from his white breeches pocket.

Cub takes out the same clenched hand and brings it above Scar's palm, placing an unknown object before manually closing Scar's hand.

"This is proof of our friendship and my promise." Cub solemnly adds.

With a raised brow, Scar opens it and gapes, eyes wide as he stares at the shimmering blue gem.

"Wh- How- I- What? Dude, this is expensive. I can't accept this!" Scar stutters as he looks back and forth between the diamond and said companion, paling at how heavy this small object feels.

"It's fine." Cub waves a dismissive hand. "Everything that you've done for me for the past few months outweighs the value of this mineral."

"But—"

"Scar."

"No! You can't make me!" Scar crosses his arms.

"Do it for me?" Cub blinks repeatedly and raises his brows as he pleads.

"Even if you give me those puppy dog eyes, I still won't do it!"

"Hmm. What if you'll only be borrowing it?" Cub suggests with a smirk.

Wait, what?

"It's—"

"You'll only be holding it for me until I fulfill my promise. How does that sound?" Cub adds.

"Fine." Scar shakes his head and sighs deeply in defeat. "It's only temporary, alright?" He narrows his eyes as he insists.

"That's okay with me. Deal?" Cub shrugs casually before offering a palm.

"Deal." Scar drawls and rolls his eyes, cracking a smile as he shakes his friend's hand.

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Grunting while carrying the loaded barrel, Scar slowly but surely heads to his storage room, breathing a deep sigh of release once he carefully drops it on the floor.

Okay!

One last batch, and he can finally get out of this place and move into the next town. He walks down the stairs that will lead him to the exit and emerges, going to the remaining wooden container and repeats the grueling process.

Since Cub has already left a few hours earlier, he has no reason to stay in this peaceful area anymore. Traveling isn't very good for someone who is injured, so he has to take a temporary stop here longer than expected. But his reason for staying here just went up in flames, so he thinks it's about time for him to move along. Sure, he and Cub made a lot of fond memories with the townsfolk here, but he can't stick to the same place for a certain amount of time.

Firstly, he'll receive the same customers over and over, risking losing sales if they already owned what he sold. Secondly, he can avoid potential danger if he doesn't have a permanent address. With bandits and other crimes increasing, his business is a very tasty target for them. With his terrible sword skills, he doubts he can protect himself against them.

Plus, hiring mercenaries as bodyguards are extremely expensive and unreliable to say the least. He heard too many stories about merchants being targeted by their hired protectors, who were actually bandits in disguise.

After dropping the last barrel, he straightens his aching back and produces a crack, releasing the tension in a second before sighing in relief. The cold night breeze brushes against his skin, shuddering while forming goosebumps on his arms.

Wait a minute, since when did he have a window in this room?

Turning back, he sees a short man(?) with strawberry blond hair dropping their heels from their tiptoes position, causing him to gape in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

How?

"Who are you and how did you get in here?" Scar grits his teeth as his hand immediately reaches for the cane strapped on his left.

He's not making the same mistake he did with Cub's situation again.

"Whoa. Hold on, buddy." They beckon their hands in mock surrender. "Let's just calm down. I'm not here to fight." They add placatingly in an even tone.

"Answer the question!" Scar demands, tightening his grip on his weapon.

"Uh, through the door. I think that part is a bit obvious already."

"That's not what I meant." Scar retorts in an undertone. "I literally just entered this room and with how small this place is, I can use my peripheral vision and don't need to turn my head to see my surroundings. And it's awfully suspicious how you're sneaking around for someone 'who doesn't mean any harm'." He air quotes his free hand while maintaining the other one to his cane.

"It was a force of habit. You know how dangerous everything around us is, right?" The child(?) defends.

"Fine. But what are you doing here? If you want to buy something, you'll have to wait in the morning." Scar straightens his posture and crosses his arms.

"Right! I almost forgot." The blond chuckles humorlessly. "Scar Goodtimes!" They beam, but the name causes Scar to jump violently, stomach filled with dread. "Would you like to join my pirate crew?" They place both hands to their hips as they announce lively.

Wait, what?

Chapter Text

"Why- How- What?" Scar can only gape, speechless from the varying emotions swirling inside of him.

What is this stranger talking about?

How did they know about his name? Why are they inviting him to join their pirate crew?

More questions flow into his mind faster and faster, increasing his confusion further in each passing second.

"First of all, how on earth did you know my name? And secondly, why would I want to join your pirate crew when I don't even know your name?"

"Right. I'm Grian. You can call me whatever you want and I have he him pronouns. Anyway!" The blonde—Grian hurriedly introduces himself in one breath before gasping tremendously as he claps his hands. "Uh, I think a few people know, too. They kept mentioning your name and how 'amazing' your products were." He huffs and chuckles.

Ah. He should really stop giving his real name to his customers all the time.

"You're pretty famous in the pirate community. Even though you're not one yourself, you're so well-known as 'the pirate on land' with your unique boat and everything. You even have your fake wanted poster and everything." He stretches his lips into a cheeky smile, digging through his pockets and pulling out a folded paper before opening it. "See?" He showcases what looks like a doodle of a wanted poster, but with Scar's poorly drawn face and name.

"What in the world?" Scar exclaims with a high-pitched voice as he frantically swipes the paper, crumpling it on his grip as he stares at it to make sure he's not seeing things. "Is this drawn by a two-year-old?"

"That's what you're worried about?" Grian retorts.

"Come on. If someone's making a portrait of a hot guy such as myself, at least make it a bit more decent than this." Scar points to himself confidently before scowling back at his picture. "I bet I can sell my own portraits with better features. Oh! I'll even have them plastered in calendars and signed."

Yeah! That should definitely sell a lot if he's apparently famous, right? He can't wait to start and market them!

"Ask the artist, not me." Grian rolls his eyes. "Can you steer away from your potential merchandise and focus on the topic at hand?"

"Okay, fine." Scar huffs. "What's this about a pirate community? Does it even exist in the first place?" He raises a brow in question.

"More or less." Grian shrugs. "So, what do you think? If you want to make quick cash instead of this tedious merchant business of yours, you can join me." He places a hand between them as he persuades.

"Hmm." Scar hums while placing a hand on his chin.

Becoming a pirate, huh?

It doesn't sound quite that bad, actually. He has already heard of many rumors about people earning a lot after becoming pirates. Plus, he can have a better wanted poster than this old thing. Heck, he'll even help the Navy make one.

"How about…" Scar stretches his lips into a cheeky smile as he pauses for dramatic effect. "No?"

"What?" Grian blurts.

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Wiping the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief, Scar slumps onto his chair the second his last customer has left, letting his tycoon face wane and allow himself to let down his guard. Since winter is approaching, people have been flocking in his store to buy themselves some goods that can help endure the freezing temperatures a bit better.

What?

Did you think he's bad at sewing?

No, no, no.

Big mistake, friends. He has been stitching clothes since he was young, so he's got basically a lifetime of experience in this department. Even the fancy clothes he's wearing right now are sutured all by himself. A tingling sensation tickles his nose, causing him to sneeze in reflex before shivering tremendously.

It's probably a good time for him to wear his winter attire as well.

Behind him, he can hear someone sniffing and turns around to see Grian scratching his currently red nose. It's been weeks since he rejected the blond's offer, and yet the latter keeps on following him around wherever he goes!

"It's really getting colder, huh?" Grian comments casually as he enters the room. "So, how is it in the profit department?"

"Business is booming as usual. Why? Are you here to steal it?" Scar indulges and narrows his eyes in suspicion.

"What? Never!" Grian denies tremendously. "I'd rather dive into water right now than do such things." He crosses his arms with a frown.

"But you're a pirate. It's literally your thing." Scar deadpans.

"Doesn't mean I'll pillage at any chance I get." Grian scoffs as he pulls a chair from the corner, dragging it to the center of the area. "It's like asking you to scam people during your day off."

"Wha- Now that's such a harsh word!" Scar gapes in disbelief while he exclaims. "I'm not scamming anybody, thank you very much."

"You're basically convincing people to buy your merchandise at such a higher value than they actually are." Grian raises a brow before flopping to his chair.

"It's called business strategy, my good friend. You wouldn't understand." Scar confides as he rolls his eyes.

"You wouldn't have to do all these sorts of things if you just accept my offer.” Grian singsongs. “It's that simple."

"That again?" Scar sighs in disappointment. "I already told you a million times, and my answer is still no!"

"Why do you want this job so much? You may be appealing it as successful, but I know that you're barely feeding yourself. If it really is booming, you'd be eating delicious food instead of stale bread!" Grian disagrees while narrowing his eyes and throwing his hands around in random gestures for emphasis.

As if on cue, Scar's stomach growls, proving Grian's point.

Not now!

"See?" Grian insists.

"It's none of your concern." Scar crosses his arms. "Why do you want to recruit me so badly? Surely, there are people far more capable than me." He prods.

"I…" Grian presses his lips into a flat line before sighing in defeat. "At first, anyone will do. I was curious who this 'amazing' land pirate was, why they're fussing over it, so I decided to see you for myself." He rubs the back of his neck as he averts his gaze. "When I found you, I was disappointed, to say the least, that you're the exact opposite of the exaggerated rumors that were making you sound cooler than you actually are."

"Hey! I'm pretty cool!" Scar squawks.

"No, you're not." Grian covers his face with a palm. "They talked about how you conquered a pirate crew to obtain this ship and from the looks of it, you probably just stole a shipwreck and patched it up to make it usable for your needs or something." He clarifies dryly.

"No." Scar drawls while averting his gaze. "The- The rumors are true. I totally got it from my defeated enemies and not from the coastal waters somewhere. Yeah." He mumbles and chuckles awkwardly.

How did Grian know?

Is it that obvious that the ship looks so old and rickety?

Wait, what’s this about choosing anyone for his crew? Does it mean that something changed Grian’s mind that he concluded to settle with Scar instead?

He’s not sure if he should be flattered or not for being chosen now.

“So, what made you change your mind to have me instead?” Scar inquires.

“It’s… you’re different.” Grian fidgets with his fringe as he murmurs.

He's not sure if Grian's cheeks are blushing from the cold or from something else.

“What?” Scar furrows his brows. “Elaborate.”

“You- I- But- Hm…” Grian sputters before sighing heavily. “It’s nothing. I just want you to join.” He shrugs casually.

“Is it because of my incredible beauty?” Scar raises his brows repeatedly as he rests his chin on his fist.

“Definitely not.” Grian huffs.

“Aww.” Scar deflates.

“So, is it a yes? I already helped a lot with your establishment like you promised.”

“Still nope!”

“Scar!”

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The surrounding area darkens once the clouds eventually cover the azure sky, falling snow fluttering in the cold air before melting on the ground as Scar rubs his trembling hands together, exhaling white mist towards it while shivering tremendously. He looks around the place for a certain pesky bird (Grian is as annoying as a parrot, so he shall be nicknamed as such), wondering where he is at this hour.

Whenever he leaves for whatever reason, he goes home at the usual time during the afternoon. But the black and cloudy sky is a very good indication for him to start worrying. He knows that his friend is an adult, but it won’t hurt to express concern towards another person now, would it?

As the harsh wind blows, the frozenness causes his limbs to go numb and the tingling sensation spreads across his entire body.

It’s probably a good time for him to go inside his warm boat and wait in there instead.

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How did it come to this?

He’s supposed to be sheltering inside his mobile house, but he’s tediously walking on the thick snow as he calls for Grian, leaving nothing but a sore throat.

Unfortunately, only the whistling of the blizzard is the one that’s answering his plea. If only he knows where the blond usually goes whenever he’s away, so he can narrow down all the places where he can possibly be. But Scar is a decent human being and respects one’s privacy, so he never invades his friend’s private life.

Wobbling left to right from the strong force of the wind, Scar slowly but surely moves forward, huffing and puffing cold breath while he senses his lashes getting harder to blink in every second he remains in the middle of the storm before going back to the Lanbo. Closing the door behind him, he beelines to the driver seat and grabs the reins while clicking his tongue, a signal for his llama to move.

“I’m sorry for making you work in this weather, Mister Llama. But I need to find Grian!” Scar apologizes as the boat moves forward, thus starting his search.

After what feels like forever, he’s beginning to feel too cold for his own good and too drowsy to continue, making him begin to give up as he’s only able to press his quivering lips into a flat line for his powerlessness. Turning around, he thinks he spots something blurry and red from the corner of his eye and immediately darts his focus there, staring until he releases a gasp as he notices a figure that awfully looks like a dead body, bleeding on the head and being surrounded by a pack of wolves.

Without hesitation, he leaves his seat and sprints out towards the pristine white snow, beelines slowly to Grian’s direction while his stomach gradually drops in every step. He sees the wolves turning their heads towards him, causing his heart to be in his mouth. Raising his arms over his head, he shouts as loud as he can in reflex, seeing the animals’ ears fall flat on their heads along with their bodies lowering in defense.

It still works!

Slowly but surely, he approaches the pack but a few of them start to growl.

“Stand back!” Scar yells as he immediately pulls out his cane with clammy hands, swiping it in the air while avoiding hitting them.

The wolves continue to growl as they back away, glaring and waiting for his movements as he fetches Grian and carries the short man with his back. Walking back slowly, he continues to face them while making loud sounds. When he’s a few meters away from the pack, his heart slowly calms but his temporary relief is interrupted when he hears a blaring sound that kind of sounds like a repeatedly tooting horn, causing him to whip his head to see Mister llama spitting to a lone wolf.

There’s more?

“Mister Llama, no!” Scar screams in panic.

He quickly turns and runs to his beloved, using his cane to swat at the predator and scares it away. Realizing too late of his mistake, the pack are swiftly approaching their direction, making it his cue to retreat inside and lock the door. He clicks his tongue and grabs the reins, moving fast once his llama gallops away from the wolves.

Behind him, he can still hear the wolves barking behind him. His heart races along with their increasing speed, jumping up and down from his seat due to the uneven path. Hearing a loud snap, he turns to his side to see a small part of the wooden wall has been ripped apart by sharp claws, causing him to yelp in dread.

The boat is gradually torn apart by the chasing predators, unable to do anything as he can only stare in panic, hoping that they will stop chasing and give up. A thud makes him scream, turning around to realize that he can hear the wolves on the other side of the door.

His breath quickens as he can feel tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

How did they get in?

What should he do?

It’s over it’s over it’s over it’s over—

All of a sudden, an idea pops in his head and quickly looks around, visibly deflating once he sees the lantern from the corner of the room and a barrel that’s filled with oil.

Aha!

His laziness has finally paid off!

Without a moment to waste, Scar runs to it and kicks it, spilling it all over the floor. Fetching the lantern, he smashes it towards the oil before running towards Grian, carrying him bridal style and exits through the little opening towards his llama, hastily pulling his pet away using the lead and runs away from the wooden boat, smirking in victory but instantly switches into a frown once he spots from the corner of his eye an orange hue.

Walking away from the scene, the fire spreads throughout the boat and continues to burn behind him, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes in his wake as he sheds tears silently, mourning for his loss.

Goodbye, Lanbo.

Chapter Text

Dripping sounds of water reverberating the cramp space of the cave.

Kneeling down, he broke the rusty padlock and opened the chest, gaping in awe at the shiny gold coins.

He could finally escape his life of poverty!

The surrounding area blurred all of a sudden, breath getting heavier as the air got thicker.

Huffing and puffing, he tried to intake more oxygen but for some reason, it felt like it's getting more difficult to breathe in every inhale, coughing vigorously as he could only lie on the floor helplessly and wrinkle the crimson tunic around his choking chest.

"If I was an animal, what would I be?" A young Grian asked.

"Definitely a scarlet macaw." Tango, his friend, confided as he nodded to himself. "Since you like red so much and you're annoying."

"I'm not!" Grian squawked.

Was he cursed?

He should've heed what the townsfolk had warned him.

He couldn't breathe.

It hurts.

"Tango, I'm sorry." Grian gasped.

It turned out he couldn't go back and fulfil his promise anymore.

☆°

Fluttering his eyes open, he could see the opened chest continuing to emit a gold shimmer.

What happened again?

As the previous events flashed before his eyes, Grian jolted violently and rose from his lying position, turning around to see the front and back at the same time.

Wait, what?

A squawk could be heard, causing him to flinch in surprise whilst looking around for the source.

Wait a minute. Something felt off.

Was he imagining it or did everything seem a lot bigger than he remembered it to be?

As if on cue, he could spot something red in his vision, stomach dropping in dread once he realized that his back was replaced with red tail feathers.

Looking down, he tilted his head…

What?

…and noticed he didn't have hands but there was an unfolded colourful feathered wing instead.

No words could describe his numerous swirling emotions, so he screamed.

A screech of a bird escaped his throat rather than his voice, increasing the dread in his stomach.

In one blink, he was a macaw screaming like it had been cooked for dinner and another, he was staring at the ceiling with a thud, groaning from the pain being inflicted on his head and back.

Ow…

Hm?

Grian blinked and his field of vision returned back to normal.

How?

Instantly, he looked down on the appendages hovering in front of him and sighed in relief to see they're human hands compared to before.

He's human again? But how on—

The second he took a breath, he relieved his excruciating experience from earlier, grunting at the pain of intaking oxygen as if he was breathing water.

It hurts!

As quickly as it came, the unpleasant sensation disappeared, making it his cue to crack open one eyelid to see everything looking so huge again. He hesitated to inhale and winced for the worst but luckily, he could breathe in ease.

Imagining his form shifting into a human, the area turned small as he could only perceive what's in front of him. Concentrating that he's a bird instead, his ability to see all around him returned, testing once more if he could perspire in this body.

He could.

In a blink of an eye, he's back into a human and couldn't help but laugh. Whether it's from happiness or something else, he wasn't sure.

Wait, the treasure!

He needed to go back to his best friend and break the news!

☆°

Grian's furrowed brows quivered, treasure dropped and long forgotten as he stared blankly at the burned wasteland of his former town for who knows how long, unable to inhale the grey ash and potentially choke on it since he needed to hold his breath whenever he was in his human form.

He heard a few things from passersby and apparently, a human-like creature with fire for hair and bloodshot eyes burned everything in its path a few weeks back before fleeing the scene, leaving nothing but scorched properties, belongings, and bodies of the people who were unable to escape. Since it happened so fast, there wasn't much time given for everyone to flee the place.

Dropping to his knees, the lump clogged his throat whilst his vision blurred, shedding non-stop tears as he could only retreat to himself and cried on the ground quietly, grieving for his loss.

☆°

Moving his feet forward, he staggered through the crowd, walking aimlessly in the next nearest town. With the treasure's help, he didn't need to employ himself for a whilst and locked himself in an inn for as long as he wanted, only to come out to buy food.

If his reason to become rich went up in flames, what was the point in all of this?

If Tango was gone in this world, what would happen to him?

Grian couldn't imagine a happy life in this cruel world without his best friend. Because of Tango, he was able to dream and hope for a better tomorrow.

If his reason to look forward to the future slipped from his fingertips, what was left for him to do?

Amongst the murmuring, he could register a few words, piecing them together and got the general idea of what they were talking about.

It's something about a 'land pirate' going from town to town selling incredible goods.

Why was that weird nickname familiar?

He released a grunt when something bumped into him, making him move his attention below to see a little child picking up a few drawings off the ground before running away to what appeared to be their friends.

Pirates, huh?

He heard a lot of bad rumours about those guys, but there was a time when they came into his former town and… they were just like any other person one could see and interact on the street. Sure, they were a bit rowdy and noisy, but they were free.

Free to do however they wanted.

Wait.

He remembered now.

Those same pirates were talking about that land pirate who apparently slayed his enemy and stole their ship for himself, riding it on land using wheels instead of sails.

Why would he need to utilise a boat? Why not use a normal wagon?

This person was getting weirder and weirder.

Staring at the ground, Grian crouched to retrieve a paper the child missed, snorting to stare at what seemed to be a wanted poster from a person called 'Scar Goodtimes'.

Oh.

It's the first time he managed to express something in a long time.

This guy seemed interesting. He looked like someone who would refer to themselves as attractive.

Why don't he check him out?

☆°

What was Grian expecting?

He wasn't sure.

What he knew though was that he wasn't expecting this Scar person to be a total idiot.

He scammed people over and over until they gave in, he always forgot to turn off the bonfire before going to bed (if his boat wasn't so flammable, it would've been fine), and whenever he planned to do something for the day, he never went through it and procrastinate then left it for Grian to accomplish all by himself instead!

For a merchant, he's too lazy and easily distracted!

Due to his… circumstance, Grian had to leave from time to time to shapeshift into a parrot, and he simply soared into the azure sky until he had enough oxygen in his lungs for his human counterpart to compromise. The more air he received as a parrot, the more time he could hold his breath as a cursed human.

Of course, he wasn't only doing it for the scenery. He was also investigating a few towns to see if there was a method to break this curse. So far, he had nothing.

He would always go back to Lanbo crestfallen but luckily, Scar never questioned and welcomed him with bright smiles without fail. Occasionally, he would even gift Grian a few goods like the delicious apple pie that one time or the matching cat-shaped earrings. He wore one on his left ear whilst Scar wore it to his right.

For some reason, his cheeks hurt so much after that.

In fact, it kept happening lately whenever they simply hung out after work and shared different tales, whether it's true, fictional, or mixed.

Since then, he couldn't help but want the tall man to be part of his pirate crew. Grian would do anything to make that happen. It's been so long since he last enjoyed something, he was not about to give it up now.

In one blink, he's by the beach and another, all he can see is pitch black void as he senses something soft underneath his head. Slowly fluttering his sticky eyelids open, he meets an unfamiliar wooden ceiling, glancing to the side and sees Scar sitting on a chair, sleeping soundly.

Covering his mouth, Grian stifles a laugh as he spots the drool flowing out of his friend's mouth, a few ideas popping in his head about ways to prank the sleeping brunette but ignores them. For now, he bathes at the peaceful moment for a little longer.

Not for long, Scar jolts himself awake and releases a yawn, making it his cue to do something.

"Well, hello there!" Grian greets.

"Ah!" Scar yelps and snaps his head to Grian's direction. "Oh, my gosh. You scared me." He caresses his chest as he groans.

"I can't help it." Grian giggles.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt somewhere?" Scar moves closer in an instant, hovering over the blonde whilst checking for any injuries.

"Scar, I'm fine." Grian reassures with a smile before feeling something on his head, touching it to realise it's a bandage. "For the most part." He adds.

"What happened? I just saw you unconscious, bleeding and being surrounded by a pack of wolves." Scar furrows his brows as he grimaces.

"I must've hit something on the way here and passed out. I'm okay now, I promise." Grian softly smiles.

Based on what he could remember, he must've hit his head somewhere as he flew in the middle of the blizzard in order to go home earlier, but karma hit him hard… quite literally.

"Are you sure?" Scar insists with a voice so small, it sounds like he's whimpering.

"Yeah. So you don't need to worry about it." Grian pats Scar's shoulder. "But I have to ask. Where are we? Why aren't we in your land boat?" He looks around with a brow raised curiously.

Scar scratches his head as he averts his gaze, contemplating on how he should break the news. His heart still hurts from the previous event, unable to recover despite it already happening days ago. Luckily, he has the budget to at least rent an inn for them to stay or they would've become a popsicle in the middle of the snowstorm right about now.

"Scar, what happened to Lanbo?" Grian inquires suspiciously, furrowing his brows as he makes firm eye contact.

"I…" Scar winces. "It- I- I burned it." He mumbles and looks down on the floor once the lump forms in his throat.

The frozen air thickens further at the excruciating silence, hearing nothing but the strong winds whistling and thudding of barricaded windows.

"You- How- Why?" Grian stammers, unable to properly say anything.

"It…" Scar shudders as the words are clogged in his throat, biting his trembling lower lip while the floodgates are threatening to open. "Th-There were wolves and- and we were cornered, s-so I- I had to…" The waterworks finally break through the dam, spilling tears onto the wooden surface like a waterfall.

All of a sudden, he can feel warmth wrapping around him, causing the tears to overflow as he's unable to hold his pent-up frustration any longer. He doesn't need to look up to know it's Grian who's currently embracing him at the moment, rubbing soothing circles on his back while slowly rocking them back and forth.

So, he cries.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

The surroundings fall silent for a while now, an indication that the blizzard is finally over so while Scar wipes the liquid off his face vigorously with his sleeves, he asks Grian to check outside while he moves to sit on the bed before hearing a girlish yelp, causing him to whip his head to see the blond being buried by a pile of snow by the opened window.

He snorts, covering his mouth in an instant while stifling a laugh that's threatening to burst.

"A-Are you okay?" Scar inquires with a high-pitched voice as his brows and mouth twitch repeatedly.

"Yeah. Peachy." Grian deadpans before escaping the pile and pats the white remnants away.

This makes it the last straw, blowing a raspberry before bursting into a fit of laughter and clutches his heaving stomach, ignoring how Grian squawks in protest from the background and makes him crack further in amusement.

After being freed from his joyful session, he deeply sighs in relief and wipes the tears away with a finger.

"That was hilarious." Scar comments.

"For you, maybe." Grian retorts while crossing his arms. "So, what now?" He sits beside Scar.

"What?"

"What's your plan? You don't have all your stuff anymore. If you still want to restart your 'tycoon' business, it will probably take you years before you get back on track, and I highly doubt winter would allow you to do that at the moment." Grian elaborates solemnly.

"Unfortunately, that's correct." Scar purses his lips into a flat line. "I'd probably suck all my savings dry if I try to start all over again, and we have to survive this cold season first and foremost."

"Wait, you have savings?" Grian blurts.

"Yeah? Why?" Scar raises a brow.

"All this time, you've been eating stale bread and never bought new clothes to save money?" Grian massages the bridge of his nose.

"What's wrong with that? I've got to have insurance, dude. Anything can happen in this cruel world." Scar convinces.

He can't really say that he's saving to buy himself an actual ship to travel around the world, hoping to discover and do something great in other places. That'd be embarrassing.

"I… Fair enough." Grian's shoulders slump. "You should've at least told me. You kept begging me to buy you something to eat."

"What can I say? Nothing's better than free food." Scar shrugs casually.

"Oh, my goodness." Grian sighs in disappointment. "Does this mean the game plan is to take shelter here for the time being until spring?"

"Yeah. After that, we'll have to buy ourselves a pirate ship early if we want to get a headstart. Otherwise, the carpenters will be overflowing with orders, and we might not get ours till the end of year." Scar places his hand under his chin in thought while explaining.

"Hold on a minute. Things are happening so fast, my mind is still processing it." Grian drawls and waves his hands in front of him, making Scar huff in amusement. "Does this mean you accept my offer? And you even want to invest in the ship for us?" He clarifies with furrowed brows, blue eyes glinting with hope.

"Of course! You did a lot for me these past few months, the least I can do to thank you is to buy us the vessel." Scar softly smiles.

"But- But you were so opposed to it. What made you change your mind?"

"I think it's about time for me to retire. I've already been in this economy for years, so customers have slowly stopped coming." He fidgets with his hands while grimacing.

It's true.

It wasn't obvious at first but since he always kept track of his inventory like any other establishment did, he eventually found out that less and less people were buying his goods. His strategy to earn cash is getting ineffective as time passes.

Maybe getting Lanbo burned is a wake-up call, in a way.

A sign for him to finally move on and start anew. The lump forms in his throat again, gritting his teeth from underneath his pressed lips to prevent himself from descending into another crying session.

"Thank you so much, buddy." Grian pats Scar's shoulder with a small but genuine smile. "I'll make sure you never regret this decision."

"So, after this, how can I be of service?" Scar bows his head in curtsey. "Do I get to drive the ship? Can I? Can I?" He requests with an ear to ear grin as he vibrates from excitement.

"Absolutely not." Grian huffs while cracking a smile, making Scar deflate. "We have zero experience when it comes to riding the waves, so I was thinking we should recruit at least a navigator before heading out to sea." He appeals earnestly. "Otherwise, we'll croak in five seconds."

Scar snorts and chuckles in his seat, descending into another laughing session and Grian follows suit before he hears the birds chirping from outside, feeling the slight warmth radiating from the open window.

Chapter Text

The salty sea breeze blows on their backs, everyone's clothing flowing gracefully with it as the Flying Jellie moves forward with the help of the wind, bouncing up and down with the waves. Scar fixes his coat, definitely brand new and not stolen from another crew a couple of months ago, and the placement of his crimson top hat, a different one since his previous accessory was lost with Lanbo.

While waiting for the booty to be equally divided, he fidgets with his feather earring on his left ear absentmindedly, entertaining himself as he stares at the vast blue sea by the crow's nest.

"How's the life of being captain going?" Grian suddenly wraps his hand around Scar's shoulder with a cheeky smile, causing the latter to yelp and jump violently. "You're such a scaredy cat!" He giggles.

"No! I was just a bit startled, that's all." Scar denies immensely. "It's going smoothly so far. Though, I'm not sure what I should be doing, to be honest." He rests his chin on his fist while sighing in defeat. "I continued to act my usual self like you asked, but is this really okay? Why did you and the crew appoint me as captain?"

"What do you mean? You've been doing a great job leading this chaotic group." Grian reassures. "The first one to cause trouble and everyone follows, that's for sure." He snickers.

"Hey!" Scar squawks.

A sound of meowing interrupts the conversation, making the two pirates snap their attention to the side and spot Jellie walking to their direction using the top sail.

How did she end up there?

He doesn't have a clue.

This cat does a lot of weird things, so it's best not to really question it. Amongst the peculiarities she has done, almost always bringing red feathers in his cabin may probably be the weirdest so far. He always wonders where she got them but she's a cat, and his question remains unanswered.

Jellie jumps towards the crow's nest and glances at Grian's direction before casually sitting next to Scar's arm.

Okay…

"Do you know why we chose you, Scar?" Grian looks to the horizon in question.

"Yeah." Scar nods. "No." He slouches.

"It's because we believe you're perfect for it. They would've opposed it a long time ago if you weren't." Grian comforts.

“Am I? Dude, I a-almost let the ship sink. Five times. And- And I accidentally dropped the gold coins into the ocean when we needed it the most!” Scar roams around the small area of the crow’s nest while frantically throwing his hands in the air. “We had to compromise on eating that hardtack until we got our budget back and because of that, Mumbo had an upset stomach for weeks. Weeks!”

“We all make mistakes, Scar. We just have to learn from it, so we won’t repeat it.” Grian comforts.

“What do you know about me, Grian? If you would’ve been the captain, we wouldn’t have so many ‘minor’ setbacks in the first place!” Scar glowers and slams a fist on the wooden rail, huffing and puffing desperately for air.

“I left my friend to die.” Grian murmurs, almost a whisper.

“What?” Scar blurts.

“At least you will never let anyone die, Scar. That’s the difference between you and me.” Grian strains a smile and makes eye contact with his glassy eyes from unshed tears. “No matter how good my leadership skills are, they’re useless if someone dies. That’s the one thing you can never get back, and all of us understand that. That’s why you’re chosen.” He plants a reassuring hand on Scar’s shoulder. “After all the things you did for us, we won’t hesitate to entrust our lives to you.”

“D-Do you r-really mean that?” Scar’s voice wavers as he bites his lower lip. “Th-That I’m not a screw up?”

"Of course." Grian softly smiles as the wind ruffles his golden locks.

"Hey, guys!" Pearl's voice calls from below, making the two look down to see her waving towards them.

Pearlescent Moon, the navigator and weatherman of the Boatem Crew and is very good with the sword (Scar and Grian got their butts kicked when they first met). She uses the stars as a way to predict the weather and guide them on this vast and dangerous waters. She was shunned for being a woman, always denying her incredible skills to favor the men, so she chose to join their ranks and change that.

She’s also in charge of dividing the loot evenly for all of them to prevent any disagreements. Even if Scar is the captain, it’s just for formality and only for someone to lead them in battle.

They’re all equal in this ship. He doesn’t care if it’s a bit different from other crews since this is his.

Thanks to Grian, he’s reminded again that it’s his responsibility to not let everyone die on his watch. He will do anything to protect them.

No matter the cost.

“We’re coming!” Scar cups his hands around his mouth in reply.

Slowly and carefully, the two leaders of the Boatem Crew go down with Jellie and not long after, they safely land on the deck.

“Look who it is, the men of the hour.” Impulse announces cheerfully from the wheel. “Fashionably late as always.We appreciate it.”

Impulse SV (he prefers to keep his surname a secret), the helmsman and shipwright of the Boatem Crew. He was a carpenter in one of the towns Scar and Grian visited but apparently the labor was so severe despite having a really low salary. It turned out, his boss hoarded all the coins for themself for years, so he decided to quit and join them. With his skills as a carpenter and knowledge at sailing, he’s in charge of maintaining the Flying Jellie and the man behind the wheel.

“Shut up, dude.”Grian snorts.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Scar furrows his brows in confusion, making the crew members to chuckle and stifle their laughter. “I’m confused.”

“It’s nothing, buddy.” Grian waves a dismissive hand. “So, Pearl. Would you like to do the honors as usual?” He clears his throat and faces the said woman.

Grian H. Dreamslayer, the quartermaster and boatswain of the Boatem Crew. Despite Scar's the captain, he's basically in name only, and the blond is actually the one who’s keeping the crew and ship in order.

“Alright! I divided the booty like I always do because I’m so smart.” Pearl jokes while puffing her chest in confidence.

“I strongly object!” Mumbo interrupts. “You’re only assigned to this task because you’re the only one who knows maths and nothing else.”

Mumbo K. Jumbo, the cook and medic of the Boatem Crew. They met him working in a restaurant but he was treated badly despite his amazing skills, so he decided to join them to escape the harsh life on land. With his delicious food and unexpected vast knowledge in medicine, everyone is always well-fed and healthy, able to avoid any infections and receive the nutrients they need not only to survive but to thrive on the sea.

“Yeah, what he says!” Impulse raises a fist in agreement.

“Hey! I know math. How come I don’t get to divide the booty?” Scar pouts and crosses his arms.

“You’re lazy.” Grian starts.

“You’re easily distracted.” Pearl follows.

“You’re Scar.” Impulse adds.

“That’s true.” Mumbo nods before the four of them murmur in agreement amongst themselves.

“I’m right here, you know?” Scar complains.

“We love you, Scar.” Grian expresses with a cheeky smile. “Say it back.”

“No!”

“Say it, say it.” Pearl chants and everyone gradually follows.

“But—“

“Say it.” Grian smirks.

“Fine.” Scar sighs in defeat. “I- I love you, too.” He blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

Scar Goodtimes, the captain and sailmaker of the Boatem Crew. His amazing skills to sew anything is used to create or repair their sails (sometimes he got scolded for adding cats whenever he had the chance). After discovering that he wasn’t fit to use a sword and is very good with a flintlock, he’s been wielding it ever since. He fulfills his task by leading everyone during battle and with his talent with shooting, he uses it to stop any danger from harming his crew members.

The four of them cheer in unison, screaming amongst themselves while Scar huffs and can’t help himself to smile at the wholesome moment they currently have. It’s rare for them to just fool around with all the problems they’re facing, so this is really good.

He doesn't mind this every once in a while.

Glancing at everyone's left arms, he takes in all the identical S-like blade scar, reminiscing of the time when Grian joked about drawing a logo on his wrist to copy Scar's mark that looked like an S to prove his loyalty. Unfortunately, the other members deemed it as a good idea and of course, Scar tried to stop them multiple times but they were stubborn as a mule.

He appreciates the gesture, though.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

Stopping at the nearest town, Scar and the crew have made a temporary stop and drop their anchor by the dock, stocking their ship of rations and supplies in order to survive the next few weeks without needing to land. They've been going from one shop to another as they gradually go through their list of needs, piling the storage room of numerous barrels.

The sun sets, indicating that they're done for the day. Pearl volunteers to book an inn for them as they finish delivering the goods. Unfortunately, Scar lost the rock paper scissors and had to pay.

Why did they travel so far from their base, anyway?

Standing to his full height, Scar bends his back and releases a loud crack, easing the tension with a sigh of relief. He walks around the area as he attempts to whistle, but he fails miserably when he only blows a raspberry. Grumbling in disappointment, he spots a hill from the distance, smirking from an idea that pops in his head before climbing it.

He gasps at how lush the place is, gaping in amazement at the beauty of nature. Without hesitation, he drops to the grass and lies down with his back, staring at the millions of gems sparkling in the pitch black background.

Hearing the grass crunch, his fight or flight instincts kick in and sits up instantly, whipping his head around to see Grian smirking behind him.

"Dude, you startled me." Scar groans and caresses his chest.

"Look who's slacking off." Grian crosses his arms.

"No! I'm just… taking a breather." Scar denies and places both hands into his pockets. "And besides, all that's left for us to do for the day is to rent an inn, and Pearl already has that covered." He waves a dismissive hand before going back to lying down.

Grian quietly lies down beside him, leaning too close for comfort.

"Uh, do you mind?" Scar raises a brow as he leans his head back.

"What? Getting closer?" Grian grins and scoots closer, making Scar groan and him giggling in pride of his antics. "You're so fun to mess around with. I don't think I'll ever get sick of it." He comments while keeping a considerable distance.

"Wow, that’s so reassuring." Scar deadpans.

"But seriously, we all love you, Scar. That's why we follow you despite sucking at being captain." Grian solemnly admits.

"Come on! Compliment or make fun of me—just choose one." Scar whines and pouts while the blond snickers. "Thanks, though." He scratches his cheek and huffs fondly.

"No problem, buddy." Grian smiles. "Look! Can you see the stars over there? It's so cool! It kind of resembles a bow, don't you think?" His eyes shimmer in excitement while pointing a finger towards the heavens.

"Yeah." Scar answers absentmindedly as he glances to the blond's direction, smiling softly.

"Are you even listening?" Grian whips his head to face Scar and complains.

"What was that?" Scar blinks in confusion.

"Oh, my goodness." Grian mutters to himself. "The constellation that looks like a bow, dude. Do you see it?" Grian turns back to the horizons.

"Whoa." Scar faces the sky, spotting the said stars and gapes in awe. "That is cool."

The two stare at the millions and billions of twinkling stars in the dark and clear sky, allowing the cool breeze to gently ruffle their hair and clothing as they relax in the cool evening.

"Do you miss Mister Llama?" Grian inquires solemnly without looking away.

"Very." Scar replies.

"Then, why did you give them away?" Grian follows up.

"It's- I… If I bring them along, someone might s-stab or shoot them and- and I c-can't bear to see that happen." He grimaces as the lump forms in his throat.

"How about Jellie? Aren't you afraid to lose her?"

"I am, but there's something in that cat that I can't quite put a finger on it. My gut tells me that she will be fine no matter what." Scar persuades before his stomach suddenly growls, breaking the tranquility and makes him flush red.

"Oh, look. Someone's hungry." Grian teases.

"I can see that!" Scar squawks. "We'll do it after."

The grass rustles with the gentle wind, accompanied by the chirping of crickets from the distance as they bask in the comfortable silence.

"Isn't it about time for you to change your trousers, dude? The patches make it look like you're sticking bubblegums onto them." Grian argues with a raised brow.

"Oh, man." Scar sits up, clutching his stomach and chuckles. "They're still repairable, though. I don't wanna throw away a good pair of pants." He refuses while staring at his stretched legs.

"You just don't want to buy a new one since you need to spend your money, do you?" Grian deadpans.

Scar descends into a fit of laughter at the statement, rolling over the sea of grass as his cheeks hurt.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

Scar's eyes blow wide like saucers, staring shockingly at the man in front of him as his finger falls from the trigger, dropping his aimed weapon to his side.

"Cub?"

Chapter Text

"Cub?"

"Scar?"

The clashing of swords and gunshots continue to play in the background, both sides of Boatem and the Navy are currently focused on fighting against each other.

Is he imagining things or is Cub actually right in front of him?

Without looking away, Scar reaches for his arm and pinches it with his free hand, wincing from the pain.

Yep, he's not dreaming.

Cub huffs and covers his mouth with a hand, shoulders quivering as if he's holding back his laughter.

"Still the same as ever after all these years, huh?" Cub quirks a relieved smile. "But what are you doing here?" He instantly switches to a frown while taking a glance from left to right.

"I could say the same thing to you, Cub." Scar crosses his arms and raises a brow.

"Shoot me." Cub instructs calmly.

"What?" Scar exclaims. "I can't do that!"

"We're just pretending to fight each other, so you need to play along with me. We use this chance to move away." Cub takes a stance and holds a tighter grip on his sword. "We can't have this conversation right in the open now, can we?"

"But what if I hit you?" Scar's voice wavers.

"You won't. I trust you." Cub confides, making a firm eye contact.

Scar presses his lips into a flat line as he looks around, seeing his crewmates fighting for their lives.

Sorry, guys.

He'll be back!

"Ready when you are." Scar exhales and aims his gun towards Cub's direction, steeling his resolve.

Cub nods in silent agreement, making it the signal for Scar to place his finger towards the trigger, shooting the fellow brunet's side and barely hitting the other's hair. On cue, he swiftly runs away from Scar and he follows suit, fully focusing his attention on watching his friend's back as they make their way through the crowd before Cub quietly enters a room.

Scar gets inside not long after and Cub closes the door behind him, locking it with a click.

"Is it okay for us to be here? It looks like the captain's cabin." Scar hesitates.

He roams around what seems to be the captain's cabin and observes the huge space decorated with a fancy table and chairs for the dining area, a bookshelf filled with books to the side, a few portraits of various ships and people along with a huge map mounted on the walls, a fancier chair and desk across from him, and a large bed at the end.

"It's alright. No one will likely come to this room, so we're safe to converse here for the time being." Cub pulls out a chair and sits down, resting his elbows on the dining table before Scar follows suit from across.

"But—"

"It's my room, anyway."

What?

"You're the captain?" Scar gapes and points a finger towards Cub. "H-How? Why?"

"I could say the same thing to you, man!" Cub exclaims. "I thought you're still a merchant."

Scar jolts at the mention of his past profession, reminding him of the incident with Lanbo and how he had to give away Mister Llama.

"I…" Scar bites his lower lip as he suppresses his frustration. "...was, Cub. A lot happened and I had to quit, so I decided to create a pirate group with Grian." He looks down to focus on his wringed hands as he solemnly explains.

"Out of all the jobs you could've taken and you chose this?" Cub's voice raises into an octave while clenching his jaws. "You would've died!"

What is Cub getting mad for?

Sure, what he said is true, but Scar is an adult, for Jellie's sake! He decides for himself what to do with his life. Even if they're friends before, doesn't mean he can run his mouth and tell him what to do.

"You're one to talk! I kept asking for your situation multiple times before, but you never told me anything. And now I see you leading a group of harassing sea soldiers?" Scar stands from his seat and slams his fists on the table, ignoring how the chair he's formerly sitting falls on its back.

"It's- It's classified to say it openly towards civilians." Cub reasons with a quiet voice and averts his gaze.

"You're the one who told me to never keep secrets from each other, and I knew that you were hiding something from me. But what did I do?" Scar glowers as he roams around the roam, randomly throwing his hands in the air. "Nothing! Because I respected your privacy. And now you're here, being insensitive and telling me what's right or wrong!" He points an accusatory finger towards a wincing Cub.

"I- I'm just looking out for you, okay?" Cub defends as he places a hand to his chest. "It's very unsafe in these waters. You can starve to death, catch a lethal disease, fight dangerous people… you name it." He counts his fingers for emphasis.

"Then stop treating me like a child! I may be clumsy, but I'm a grown man." Scar pleads as the lump forms in his throat, crumpling his coat around his chest with a clammy hand. "I don't need you to understand, I don't need you to take my side. I just want a friend to respect my decision." He sobs, covering his face with both hands as tears flow to his cheeks.

He can feel a familiar hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. They don't need words to express their apologies and exchange forgiveness. Despite being together for only a few months, it feels like they've known each other far longer than that. They seem to really click well.

It's why they felt so comfortable pranking each other. It's why they managed to live together with little to no issues for months despite Cub not needing to stay, simply using his injuries to hang out for a little longer.

They're like each other's brothers they never have.

Sure, they're arguing right now but it's okay.

It's their way to express their concerns and clear out misunderstandings, a method to maintain their relationship.

As the waterworks finally dry, Scar sniffles while he wipes the tear tracks with his sleeve, easing the constricted sensation from his chest.

"So, what now?" Scar questions with a raspy voice as he goes back to his seat.

"What do you mean?" Cub raises a brow while he follows suit.

"I mean, you're a Navy and I'm a pirate. We can't hang out anymore." Scar explains with downcast eyes.

"Hmm…" Cub hums, placing a hand under his chin in thought. "I'll see what I can do."

Scar fidgets with his fingers, waiting for his friend to come up with something.

"Uh, do you mind if I ask about the harassing sea soldiers statement earlier?" Cub breaks the momentary silence.

"Ah. That's kind of…" Scar furrows his brows and tilts his hand left to right, gesturing that it's fifty-fifty. "I haven't been a pirate very long to conclude it but so far, all the Navy ships we have encountered, which weren't a lot but there's still a few, were all power-hungry or obsessed with wealth and themselves." He solemnly explains as he can still recall the captured pirates being harassed, but grimaces when he remembers that he wasn't able to do anything for them.

A couple of thudding sounds are thundering from above, making them jolt in surprise and snap their attention to the wooden ceiling, faintly hearing a few screams.

"It sounds like the battle is over. I guess it's time for me to go." Scar states with a humorless chuckle.

"Wait."

"What's wrong?" Scar looks down to face Cub.

"Hit me." Cub orders.

"What? No! What's with you and wanting me to hit you?" Scar exclaims in panic.

"We can't let them suspect us of being gone for so long without some kind of injuries now, can we?" Cub appeals hastily as he stands up. "Come on! We don't have much time." He spreads his arms wide and shuts his eyes, bracing for impact.

Scar inhales and exhales a few times, curling his fingers into a fist before swinging it to Cub's direction, hitting him to his left cheek before the latter leans to the side from the knockback.

"Wow, you're stronger than I thought." Cub caresses his red face and chuckles before wincing in pain.

"Okay, do me." Scar closes his eyes.

"There's no need." Cub's voice refuses. "The scratches you received prior are enough."

Heavy thumps can be heard from above.

"What? But they might—" Scar opens his eyelids.

"Scar, listen to me." Cub reaches for Scar's belt and takes the gun.

"Hey, that's mine!" Scar whines and grabs to steal his weapon back.

"I want you to tell your friends that you ran out of bullets, punched me in the face, and ran away. Got it?" Cub instructs hastily as he takes the bullets before quickly handing the flintlock back.

Scar grunts once he receives the object with a shove as the footsteps are approaching faster and faster.

"Run. Go!" Cub demands, giving Scar a strong push from behind and makes him propel forward.

Scar shoots a glance to his friend, taking in his dilated emerald eyes before he steels his resolve and sprints out of the room. He encounters a couple of underlings, immediately dodging and weaving his way through the crowd as he barely avoids their persistent attacks. He sees his crewmates retreating towards their ship and follows suit.

Huffing and puffing as he bends his knees, he can hear the screaming enemy from behind while they gradually make a considerable amount of distance.

"Hurry! They might shoot us down." Scar yells.

"Don't worry. We already incapacitated all of their gunners and destroyed most of their cannons. Besides, the wind is on our side today." Pearl reassures with a smirk and a hand to her hip.

Scar glances in front of him and like she said, their ship is already too far for their remaining cannons to be in range to successfully hit them, so he sighs and allows his legs to give in, squatting on the floor in relief.

"You're injured!" Mumbo's eyes widen and gasps. "Let me get my tools real quick. I'll be back!" He leaves the scene hastily with a wave of his hand.

"Wait, Mumbo! It's not that… never mind. He's gone." Scar slumps his shoulders.

"So, how was the fight with the captain?" Grian drawls and lends a hand. "It took you quite a while to get out."

He's dead.

Okay, okay.

Calm down, Scar. If he just lies his way like he usually does, Grian and the others won't need to know he's friends with a person from the government, of all people.

Considering their terrible track record with those guys, he doubts they'll be very understanding.

"Oh, my gosh. You would not believe this." Scar starts as he grabs the blond's hand and hoists himself up. "He was quite formidable, I tell you. No matter how many times I aimed for the head, he always managed to barely dodge it as if he could predict the future." He makes grand gestures and walks around the ship to tell his tale, internally sighing once he sees everyone's faces relaxing.

"Here we go again." Grian rolls his eyes and crosses his arms while the others huffs in agreement.

With the skill he has polished over the years, Scar continues to weave the story of his non-existent battle, mixing the truth and fiction, which is a very good tactic to tell a good lie and convince your target.

It's a good thing he constantly makes grandiose nonsense.

Not noticing the azure gaze constantly following Scar throughout the day, he goes on with his day.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

"So…" Scar attempts to whistle but fails miserably, looking around the fancy decor in the captain's cabin instead. "We meet again."

"I can see that." Cub deadpans. "Okay." He exhales. "I was hoping for this to happen anyway, so this is a good opportunity, I suppose."

"Why do you want this to happen?" Scar tilts his head in question.

"We haven't got more time to talk since last time, you know…" Cub starts and Scar nods. "...I want to talk to you about something since this will potentially impact our future encounters." He solemnly explains as he rests his hands on the table.

Scar swallows the lump in his throat, waiting for his friend to speak with bated breath.

What does Cub want to talk about that he wants to meet so badly despite the huge risk?

It's just coincidence that they bumped into each other at sea again since their last unexpected reunion a couple of weeks back, but they need to be careful in doing secret meetings like this. He may not be good with these kinds of situations, but he's aware enough that the fellow brunet will be in a lot of trouble if his superiors found out.

"Remember how you saved my life a few years ago? And…" Cub reaches for something from his coat pocket and pulls out a diamond, causing Scar to gasp.

"You have another one? I still have yours in my… hold on…" Scar before hastily patting and digs through his pockets, finding the same gem and grabs once he finds it. "Yes!" He chuckles and raises the hand holding it in victory. "I have it on me ever since! I don't want to misplace it and risk losing it, so it's just in my pocket everyday." He gasps from the unexpected epiphany. "Are you going to fulfill it now?"

"Yeah. I owe this life to you, after all." Cub places a hand to his chest with a soft smile. "What do you want me to do regarding our current issue? Say the word and I'll do it in a heartbeat."

"Hold on." Scar beckons a hand in front of him. "You're telling me you're gonna do whatever I say? You do know that you're basically staking your life on this, right?" He frets as he furrows his brows.

"Yep. Pretty much." Cub replies casually.

"Why?"

"If it weren't for you, Scar, I wouldn't be in this world anymore. The least I can do is to secure your safety, if you allow me." Cub addresses calmly.

He knows where this is going.

If Scar refuses the offer now, he's aware that Cub will persistently latch onto this idea until he wins.

He's just that stubborn.

"I give up. I'll do it." Scar huffs and smiles, raising both of his hands in surrender.

"Thank you." Cub nods his head in gratitude.

He says that, but what should he do? He doesn't really want to order something that will ruin Cub's life.

Hmm…

"What if… you continue what you're doing?" Scar suggests.

"What? But—" Cub stands and gapes in surprise.

"And! And…" Scar places a palm in front of Cub to intercept. "...go along with what I do everytime we meet. I'll handle the rest, so you don't have to worry about a thing." He ends his suggestion with a smirk. "I do feel bad for letting you do this since you're only doing your job, and I feel terrible if I tarnish it." He solemnly explains, fidgeting with his coat sleeves on the table.

"But Scar, that's what I want to do for you. I can't repay the favor if you won't let me do this." Cub crumples his clothing around his chest with a grimace.

"I want as little trouble as possible for you. You're living your dream at this moment, I don't want my involvement to ruin that. And besides, I don't want to step on other people's kindness when I'm the only one who's having the time of my life."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it turns out being a pirate can help you do great things and if you haven't noticed, I have my own wanted poster." Scar raises his brows repeatedly as he smirks. "I'm traveling around the continent, I'm raiding enemy ships, steal a lot of loot, and got so many people's attention enough for me to be wanted by the whole country!" He spreads his arms wide while he expresses the biggest smile he has ever made.

"Okay, that makes sense." Cub chuckles and shakes his head fondly. "Then, why are you doing this? Won't this potentially destroy your dream, too?"

"It's simple. I don't want my customers to have a bad time." Scar simply answers with a soft smile.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

The sun shines under the Flying Jellie as they sail and bounce along the waves like they usually do. Sure, they can stay inside their base on land where it's nice and cool, away from the scorching weather and secretly eat snacks behind Grian's back. But apparently everyone wants to take a breather and lower the sails, so as captain, Scar can't exactly refuse them.

Well, he can.

But he won't.

Turning away from the railings, he takes a glance over his crewmates and notices them doing their respective jobs. Well, Impulse is while the others are just watching the scenery. From the rear part of the ship, he sees Pearl doing the same thing, but something feels off about her. He can't quite put a finger on it. Maybe if he gets a closer look, he might figure out what it is.

So, he casually walks the wooden deck, leaving thumping sounds of his boots as he makes his way to the back. With a wave of his hand, he silently greets their navigator with a casual smile. Pearl, on the other hand, only nods her head before going back to looking at the sea.

"Are you okay?" Scar reaches out a hand but hesitates.

"I'm fine." Pearl replies bluntly.

Is something wrong with her?

Glancing down, Scar spots the single leather arm guard on her left arm is gone and instead of her usual sleeveless blouse, the sleeves on her poet shirt are unfolded, which is a bit peculiar since she always rolls them up whenever she wears it.

"Aren't you hot with that?" Scar points at Pearl's hands curiously.

"Nope, I'm good." Pearl answers casually, popping the p without looking away.

"Are you sure?" Scar drawls as he insists.

"Yep." Pearl replies before walking away.

Huh, oh-kay…

Chapter Text

Walking through the hallways and turning into a corner, Scar heads to the restroom and stops in his tracks, only to see Impulse wrapping both of his buff arms with bandages. He quickly but silently hides behind the wall, leaning his back towards it as he glances to observe what their helmsman is doing.

Is he injured?

He knows that it's not the first time Impulse has done it, considering he needs some kind of method to take care of his hands to avoid getting injured, but at the same time still able to freely move his fingers.

But this time it's different.

The bandages are longer, so Scar can only assume that he's wrapping them thicker.

"Now I don't have to see it anymore." He hears Impulse mumbling to himself, spotting from his peripheral vision that the helmsman is crumpling his black sleeveless tunic.

What does that mean?

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

"Ooh! I'm so excited!" Scar bounces his heels up and down while wearing a cheeky smile, anticipating for Pearl to finish dividing the loot they currently earned from raiding a town ruled over by a corrupt mayor.

Luckily for them, they didn't need to show mercy since it turns out, the townspeople were known to pillage other places, kill innocent people, and capture women and children to sell or turn them into their slaves.

If it's weird that they're doing their plundering on land, it's not.

Pirates do it away from the seas as well. It only depends on the specific crew whether they want to attack both land and water or not.

"Scar."

"Oh!" Scar jumps violently and sees Pearl holding his drawstring pouch. "Dang it, you scared me." He breathes heavily as he caresses a hand to his throbbing chest.

Silently, Pearl hands Scar the object before walking away like nothing happened.

Seriously, did he do something to make her upset?

Of course, he already brought this concern to her, but all her replies were dismissive and never answered his questions. It's also the same issue with Impulse. He shakes the matter off and opens the given pouch, counting the coins before furrowing his brows in confusion.

Huh, it's smaller than expected.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Mumbo coming out from the kitchen as he brings over a plate filled with crispy fried fish. In an instant, his mouth is already drooling just from the scrumptious aroma and doesn't waste any time to approach the mustached man, following him towards the dining table.

"That looks delicious, Mumbo." Scar compliments while wiping his mouth using his dress shirt sleeve.

"Thanks, dude." Mumbo smiles.

Glancing down, he spots that Mumbo is wearing a pair of black gloves, long enough to reach beyond his raven suit jacket.

"Uh, what's with the gloves?" Scar furrows his brows in question.

"Oh! I, uh… It's- It's nothing." Mumbo jumps in surprise and stammers. "Th-This- I- I was j-just thinking 'wh-what if I protect my- my hands this time by w-wearing gloves'. B-Because you know, I- I'm a cook." He chuckles nervously as he rubs the back of his neck. "I, uh… gotta go. Bye!" He sprints away from the room before going back to the kitchen, closing the door behind him with a slam.

Why is it getting harder for him to communicate with his crew?

What is going on?

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

Running through the long and wide hallways, Scar frantically looks around the area for an exit, the bile gradually climbing its way to his throat as the anxiety causes his stomach to form a knot.

Why did they think it was a good idea to steal from a noble's mansion today?

He never should've accepted this suggestion!

Once he turns into a corner, he bumps into something and releases a grunt before being flinged away to the floor, falling with his butt and letting out an oof.

"Ow…" Scar groans and winces from the pain.

This is definitely going to bruise later.

"Scar?"

A familiar voice catches his attention, making him face the owner of the voice, only to see the one and only Cub Fan CXXXV himself. It turns out, his captain friend over here is actually a noble, which explains the name (he totally didn't pester Cub to spill the beans over and over during their last meeting).

"Seriously?" Scar huffs as he accepts Cub's lending hand and hoists himself up. "Dude, we really need to stop meeting like this. It's getting ridiculous."

"I couldn't agree more, man." Cub smirks.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

♪ So ist es immer ♪

The Flying Jellie sways more strongly today as Scar sees the waves raging compared to their calm counterparts, the one they're accustomed to, feeling the breeze blowing against his face and quickly reaches for his top hat in reflex. Once the winds have gradually calmed down, he drops his arms with a sigh of relief before turning his back as he heads down to the cabins.

Since they hit a jackpot from the previous attack, he's very excited about how much he can earn today. When they get back to their base, he wants to buy himself a new hat.

♪ Unser Licht ist nur das ♪

Yep, you heard him.

He's not going to sew one himself this time. He wants to try the new designs he saw from that hat shop he passed by before, curious about how they would look on him. Stretching his lips into a wide grin, he increases his speed as he runs to the dining area, which has the largest space where Pearl usually counts the loot.

♪ Trinken und Singen

Wir, begrüßen morgen ♪

Entering the room, Scar opens his mouth as he is about to start his usual bombastic greeting, stopping himself and swiftly hides behind the wall by the entrance once he sees his crew members surrounding the barrel, where the loot is safely hidden.

Whenever Pearl was doing her thing, she always wanted to be alone and forbade all of them from entering the room until she was finished.

So, what are they doing here?

♪ So ist es immer ♪

"I segregated some of them like you asked, Grian." Pearl's voice informs solemnly.

"Good. All we need now is to hide our treasure as usual in the hiding spot we made in our quarters." Grian's voice replies.

♪ Unter rußigem Himmel leben wir zusammen ♪

Treasure?

What are they talking about?

What's going on?

Did they find something valuable and hide it in their bedroom?

All of a sudden, Scar recalls how there's less coins than expected in his drawstring pouch, causing him to gasp internally at the revelation.

No.

It can't be, right?

♪ Der Nacht ist lang ♪

There's no way they've been hiding things behind his back because that would mean…

"So, what should we do about the Scar situation?" Impulse's voice questions with a whisper, as if he doesn't want anyone to hear it.

Scar can only bite the inside of his cheek and wrinkle the coat that's hanging over his shoulders in silence, holding back all sorts of emotions swirling around his knot for a stomach as he tunes back in on their conversation, barely keeping his balance once the swaying of the ship is getting stronger.

♪ Da die Sterne nicht leuchten ♪

Since they dropped the anchor and rolled up the sails, they should be fine without Impulse manning the wheel for a while.

"I don't know honestly. But we can only keep a careful eye on him and prepare for the worst." Grian releases a heavy sigh.

"Do we really need to go and kill Scar?" Mumbo's voice wavers.

What?

He almost lets out a gasp and instantly slams a hand over his mouth, biting his lower lip while he's at it.

♪ Da der Mond auf diese Stadt nicht scheint ♪

Why does his crew want to kill him?

Did Scar do something wrong?

If he did, shouldn't they—

"Of course, we should!" Pearl's voice exclaims. "If we won't, we'll be in a lot of trouble. You understand that, right?"

The beat of Scar's heart increases tenfold along with the rocking of the ship, holding a tight grip on his vest as he can feel the lump in his throat and the tears that are threatening to burst out.

♪ Schalten wir das Licht selbst an

Singen wir unter dem Steinhimmel ♪

How long have they been conspiring to end his life?

Aren't they supposed to be friends?

Or is he the only one who ever thought that way?

If he knew that you're just going to be betrayed by your own crewmates, he never should've accepted Grian's offer in the first place. If only he remained as an ignorant merchant, it would've been more difficult to earn something for his living expenses compared to how much he had made as a pirate, but at least there's no one who will slice your neck at any moment.

When it's other people, he can understand if they want his life due to his reputation but the Boatem crew themselves?

♪ Chairs so close a room so small ♪

He should've expected the worst when he decided to turn pillaging as an occupation. He knows that he will most likely expose himself to danger far greater than he could've ever imagined, but this is just awfully bitter.

Scar never should've saved Grian in exchange for everything he has ever worked for.

♪ You and I talk all the night long ♪

As if on cue, the rocking is at full force, hearing them exclaim and thud on the other side of the wall as he plants his feet further on the wooden floor, an attempt to keep himself upright but he loses his balance, falling onto the ground with a thud. Wincing at the loud sound, he listens to the piercing silence as he regains his bearings, pushing himself up by planting his trembling and clammy hands on his knees.

♪ Meager this space but serves us all well

We comrades have stories to tell ♪

Entering the room, he can see all eyes are on him while Mumbo wrings his hands together, Impulse clenching his bandaged fist, Pearl shooting daggers, and Grian staring at his direction with eyes filled with scorn.

"H-Hello there, g-guys." Scar waves a hand with a strained smile. "H-How's it going?"

The silence stays for far too long until Grian opens his mouth.

"How long have you been there?" Grian inquires with an undertone.

"Hm, let's see…" Scar indulges and pretends to be thinking while he places a hand under his chin, pausing to wait for the right moment. "Uh, since the part where you're planning to backstab me from the start?" He breaks the facade the second the ship swings back and forth vigorously before he snaps.

♪ And it’s always like that in the evening time ♪

Slamming his feet onto the floor, he beelines to Pearl's direction and grabs the cutlass strapped by her waist, unsheathing it before he thrusts it to the owner's left side, pulling out to see the blade is bathed red.

♪ We drink and we sing when our fighting is done ♪

Retrieving the hat off the navigator's head with his free hand, he blankly stares at it as he reminisces how he met her for the first time.

Scar is fully aware he should react after literally stabbing his friend but strangely, he feels calm. More accurately, he feels numb. He doesn't feel anything at all.

Should he be concerned? He doesn't know.

He stopped caring the second he discovered he could never trust anyone in this cruel world but himself.

♪ And it’s always so we live under the burnt clouds ♪

Scattering around the now cramped room, they run to different directions and he chases after the nearest one… Grian.

He raises the weapon above his head and prepares to deal a heavy blow, dropping it in front of him towards his target, only to see a blur of someone going into his line of sight and spots Impulse shielding the blond. The helmsman lets out a pained scream as the blade slices from his shoulder to his abdomen, falling onto the ground with his side while the wound forms a pool of blood underneath him.

"Impulse, no!" Grian cries and turns pale, pursing his lips while pulling out the red cloth from Impulse's head before frantically running away.

"Hey, get back here, Grian!" Scar grits his teeth and follows suit.

♪ Ease our burden ♪

Running around the cabin, he searches for the two remaining members while the lava pit from inside his body is starting to boil, gradually rising in every second while he can hear something loud crashing from above. Without hesitation, he heads for the stairs and arrives at the now drenched deck, noticing Mumbo pointing his musket to Scar's direction.

♪ Long is the night ♪

The second he hears the gunshot, his body jolts and leans to the side in reflex, barely dodging the lethal attack. While the mustached man tries to get back on his feet after falling from the recoil, he uses this chance to approach the cook to deal the final blow. Seeing a shadow looming from above, he snaps his head back to see Grian by the quarterdeck, rolling over a barrel with his foot and launching it down.

♪ Dust and smoke, stars can’t be seen ♪

Scar jumps away on time and dodges it, dropping the hat and takes the flintlock pistol from his waist with his left hand, aiming towards the blond and pulls the trigger in one swift motion. Luckily for his former partner, he loses his balance when the surface sways before hitting the rail and misses, using it as his chance to escape.

He swiftly turns around and sees Mumbo's back as he runs away. In a blink of an eye, Scar shoots but hits the man's shoulder instead, which makes him miss his shot two times in a row now.

"Dang it, you stupid storm! You ruined everything!" Scar snaps.

The long and intense game of tag has been formed while they run around the ship, the storm rising further and further and soaks the two of them entirely. After what feels like forever, it finally ends when Scar corners Grian by the plank.

♪ We all starve for a moonbeam on our town ♪

He glances and spots the two accessories on the wooden surface have rolled over towards him, crouching to pick them up without stopping in pointing the cutlass to his target. Removing the top hat off, he wears Mumbo's bicorne hat before putting his original headpiece above it. With an ear to ear grin, he spins Pearl's hat on his finger as he continues to aim the bloody weapon towards a shaking Grian. Spotting the wrinkled crimson cloth on the blond's hand, he realizes that it's Impulse's bandana.

It looks like he'll have to get that later after this.

"Give it up, Grian. There's nowhere for you to go!" Scar singsongs and takes a step forward on the plank.

The drenched blond stares daggers with his narrowed eyes, using the silent treatment. His adrenaline rises more and full-on stands on the platform, pointing the end of the cutlass towards Grian's neck.

♪ We must all gather as one ♪

"Any last words?" Scar inquires with an undertone.

He spots Grian glancing behind him, most probably watching as his feet are already at the end of the wood.

Turning his attention back to Scar, he stretches his lips into a grin as he reaches forward, grabbing the brunet's hand swiftly before pulling him backwards right towards death.

In an instant, a huge splash occurs and everything becomes water.

Due to the harsh waves, it makes it harder for Scar to ascend to the surface for air but easier for Grian to bring him down with him.

So, this was Grian's plan all along, huh?

He was wondering why their thin gangway was there when no one usually takes it out, unless they're going on land.

♪ Sing with hope and our fear will be gone ♪

For a while, the two remaining members of Boatem have struggled underwater to pull each other down whenever one of them is trying to resurface. With one fell swoop, Scar manages to push the blond down by the forehead and holds a tight grip on the latter's arm despite struggling to set himself free, gritting his teeth once his boiling anger overtakes his body, energizing him further despite the fatigue.

He can see Grian releasing drops of water from the end of his eyes, before they ultimately get swallowed by the larger bodies of liquid around them.

How dare he!

After all the things Scar did for him and everyone, he was using him all along, so he didn't need to dirty his hands. And once the blond was done with him, he conspired with the rest of the crew to kill him, so no one would finally get in his way.

♪ Die Stühle liegen sehr eng ♪

'Traitor!', Scar wishes to express, but he can only scream it inside his head.

The quartermaster kicks his feet over and over as a last-ditch effort to escape but since he's above, Scar uses his legs to push them back, blocking all possibilities of escape. After another roughhousing to keep the other at bay, he can feel the air gradually leaving his lungs, which is a clear warning for him the need to go return to the surface, but he won't.

If he has to take his former partner down with him to remove the welling feeling in his chest, then so be it.

Staring at the blond's face, he sees his brows quivering with his pressed lips as if he's the one who's in pain. The one who was betrayed.

♪ You and I talk all the night long ♪

As if something has been cut into two, Scar wraps his scarred hands around Grian's neck, tightening his grip as the latter's expression quickly switches into shock while he tries to pull the hands away, but the effort is in vain.

'Weren't you the ones…'

The image of everyone's looks as they were discovered earlier flashes before his eyes, causing his rage to constrict his chest tighter and does the same to the other's throat, the hold is so tight that his hands are quivering and digging his nails onto the skin.

'... who betrayed me?'

It feels like Scar is shedding tears once the pain from the back of his eyes have vanished, focusing on trying to kill his emotions before he notices that there's no more resistance from the quartermaster, only to see and realize that Grian's mouth is already open while releasing a lot of air bubbles as his azure eyes grow dull—lifeless, and stares through him.

♪ Dieser niedrige Raum ist nicht schlecht ♪

He's gone.

Wait, he can still make it!

Pushing himself to the limits, he paddles his feet with all his might as he propels themselves up towards the surface. Without hesitation, he vigorously gasps for the sweet oxygen, huffing and puffing as he spots that Grian remains still as a statue.

"Answer!" Scar screams and grabs the blond's collar, receiving no response from the latter. "...me." He sobs once the waterworks break the dam and non-stop tears flow from his eyes, feeling the void in his heart as he can only bury his face in his scarred arms.

This is so unfair.

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

♪ We comrades have stories to tell ♪

Arriving at the deck once more, Scar numbly stands still while his hand remains a tight hold on Grian's collar, crouching to place his scarred arm under the latter's legs and carries him bridal style.

Under the dark but starry sky, they gather by the crackling bonfire as they sit on the chopped trunks, casually chatting with each other while drinking a few cups of ale.

The strumming of a guitar halted all murmuring as Scar and the others focused on the sound, only to see Pearl standing while holding the said instrument.

"You can play an instrument?" Scar gasped. "That's so cool!" His eyes sparkled in awe.

"I bet the screams of the goats sounded way better." Grian smirked while Scar snorted and the others stifled their laughter.

"I can play! Watch." Pearl cleared her throat.

She begins to strum a familiar tune, making him sway his body left to right as Scar vibed with the song.

"So ist es immer." Pearl sang with her soothing voice. "That in the evening time." She gestured her hand for someone to continue, not stopping the strumming.

If the blond was awake, he would probably joke and say something along the lines of buying him dinner first.

But he's not.

Everyone pointed to Grian's direction, making the other whine before sighing in defeat.

"We drink and we sing when our fighting is done."

Scar cheered with a big smile and clapped his hands together, the others followed suit as Impulse and Mumbo waved their drinks in the air.

It's only the excruciating silence and the pitter-patter of raindrops making contact with the ship's wooden surface accompanying him.

"So ist es immer." Impulse added.

"We live under the burnt clouds." Mumbo continued before chugging his drink. "Ease our burden…"

He takes one foot forward and another, slowly crossing the deck as he makes his way to the hatch that leads to downstairs. Carefully going down the stairs, he enters the cabin and heads to their sleeping quarters.

The last one…

All of them grinned while they focused their attention on Scar, causing him to steel his resolve, drank all of his ale in one go and made his cheeks flushed red.

"Long is the night." Scar finished.

It was a very good time while it lasted.

♪ Da die Sterne nicht leuchten ♪

Scar places Grian gently to his swing, together with the rest of the crew. Apart from the freezing complexion and empty gaze, he can still lie to himself that they're just sleeping.

But he can't.

He killed them with his own hands, after all.

Does it subside the welling sensation in his chest?

Not at all.

In fact, it creates a bigger void that he can't cover or fix.

The damage is too large.

It's impossible to repair it.

Reaching for Grian's face, he carefully places his hand over the blond's eyelids and closes them before turning his back, making his way to the dining room. He looks around and spots Mumbo's matches that he always used for lighting the coal and the candles.

♪ We all starve for a moonbeam on our town ♪

After going back to the deck, he takes in the scenery of the vessel one last time, calling and waiting for his beloved to come out of hiding. From the corner of his eye, he spots Jellie emerging from the darkness and walking towards his direction. He crouches to gently hold the cat to his chest, he walks to the starboard, the opposite side of the port where the platform is still mounted, and spots the lifeboat.

Removing the sheets, he gently places Jellie down.

"Stay, Jellie. I'll be right back." Scar smiles weakly before going back to the deck.

Pulling out a match, he swiftly drags the head along the striker, repeating the process a few times until it's ignited.

Looking up at the sail he lowered earlier, he raises the match and sets the cloth on fire. Moving on to the next, he ignites another and aims it to another one and repeats this until every sail is lit. Looking down from above, he can see the waters beginning to calm compared to earlier.

♪ Schalten wir das Licht selbst an ♪

Lighting another one, he sets the Jolly Roger aflame, which is a black flag with a white silhouette of five boats being stacked on top of each other in the middle, a symbol that indicates that they're alive and they're here to cause a lot of trouble into the world.

Well, not anymore.

Going down through the shrouds, he lands on the floor with a thud, smelling the suffocating smoke emitting in various directions where the fire has spread its deadly claws. With the help of the overheated oil and lantern he spread everywhere, the inferno is eating the vessel pretty fast, only able to see a few spots where it's still safe for him to pass.

♪ Sing with hope ♪

Scar uses this chance to head towards the lifeboat along with everyone's headgears, slowly but surely lowering the rope pulley until they safely land on the water. He rows the boat with both oars, staring at his former home while tears flow against his will again.

Goodbye, Flying Jellie.

Sweet dreams forever, Boatem Crew.

♪ And our fear will be gone ♪