Inti’s Watcher
Marie yawned, heading into the group area for breakfast. Razan was cooking, but Peter and Sophie weren’t out yet. Which was odd; Peter was usually the first one awake.
She decided that mystery wasn’t as important as making tea. It took until she was done filling the kettle to notice Razan’s hair.
It was short. Not being weighed down or pulled back, it fluffed out ever so slightly, framing his face very nicely. The length was just enough to cover his ears, and the back was cut in a way that would look good at every length as it grew out.
Marie squinted at Razan, which he did his best to ignore, his movements becoming choppy.
Sophie came into the room and wandered over as she said a greeting. Marie and Razan replied as was proper, then he turned to the thief.
“I had a slightly late start this morning; breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” he told her.
“That’s fiiiii…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at his hair, her face going red.
Marie shook her head, grinning. “How do you like his haircut?”
Sophie spun on her heel and walked straight back to her bedroom. Marie managed to not laugh.
“I’m not sure how to feel about that,” Razan muttered, going back to his pan.
“Take it as a compliment,” Marie suggested. “What happened?”
He sighed. “Nali said she would forgive me for cutting her hair if I cut mine.”
“Do you want her forgiveness?” Marie asked, surprised.
He shrugged. “I suspect our groups will continue working together in the future. I have now made a show of repentance towards her; if she openly harms me, it can no longer be called retaliation.”
“You think she will?”
“I do not know. All I know is, I will not be held responsible for any animosity between us.”
Marie nodded slowly. She didn’t know why they’d disliked each other from their first meeting, but suspected it had to do with politics. Which, here, didn’t really matter. “That explains cutting your hair, but not this… style.”
“I asked for Peter’s help. Grace was there and insisted on helping. Keiko followed us to the haircut room and also insisted on helping. It took half an hour, but they finally agreed this style fit all their requirements,” he said in a resigned tone.
“And what were those requirements?” Marie asked, pouring water from the kettle into a teapot.
“Keiko focused on styles which wouldn’t look ‘utterly tragic’ while growing out, and Grace had many opinions on what would make me look ‘bloody stupid’. I then had to swear I would brush my hair as they ordered, and this was the cut they decreed would look best.”
“They chose well,” Marie told him. “I know there’s probably some status thing involved with how you had your hair, given all the Japanese men here style their hair exactly the same, and you won’t ever cut it this short ever again, but to my eyes it does look good.”
He grimaced, almost said something, then turned the stove off instead.
Marie looked around. “Nop, is Peter still asleep? Is he sick?”
A part of the wall opened, and a raven hopped out. “Peter is awake. He is with Grace.”
“I see.” Marie frowned, glanced at Razan, and shrugged. “Tell Sophie I’m taking her breakfast.”
Nop bobbed and went back into the wall as Razan put food into two bowls.
“Hopefully they’ll be here when Nop tells us what the contest will be this week,” he said.
“I’m sure they will be. Thank you for the food.”
He bowed, and they went to the table.
“After spending a day above water, this week we’re sending you underwater,” Nop said. “We’re taking you back to our Yonaguni monument for a shell hunt.” She put a picture of what looked like a sunken temple on the wall.
Peter looked the structure over, wondering if it would be the same kind of shells as last time.
Before Nop could continue, Razan sat up. “Yonaguni? In Ryukyu?” he asked.
“Yes,” the raven said.
“Is that in Japan?” Peter guessed.
Sophie smiled. “We’re going to Japan?”
“No,” Nop said.
“Yes,” Razan said at the same time, then hesitated. “Secretly. It’s… complicated politics.”
“Are you sure?” Nop asked.
Razan bowed slightly. “Absolutely. I worked for the man who was in control of the kingdom.”
“The king?” Nop suggested.
“No. The king is a vassal,” Razan said seriously.
Nop blinked a few times. “Aren’t those two things mutually exclusive?”
“That is what we would like China to believe.”
“How-”
“Never mind for now,” Marie interrupted, her voice amused.
“Right, sorry. Yonaguni. There are three colors of shells we have; you will be assigned one of those colors,” Nop continued, getting back on track. “Each shell of your color you collect will be worth one point. Points will be deducted for each shell you bring back of a color you were not assigned. For this contest, fighting is not allowed. To emphasize that, weapons are banned. You will have four hours in the area. Let me know by tonight if you’re joining.”
Peter thought that sounded fun. If fighting was banned and collecting shells of other colors was banned, that left hiding the shells so no one could find them. Which would make searching for the correct shells more difficult and exciting. He looked at the captain, about to say that, to find a very odd expression on her face.
Razan started to ask something but stopped, also noticing. He shared a concerned look with Peter. “Captain?”
Marie cleared her throat, looking at Nop. “No weapons?”
“No weapons,” Nop confirmed. “Not even a pocket knife.”
She got to her feet, smiling strangely. “I will not be joining.” With a nod, she left, going back to her room.
Peter again shared a concerned look with Razan.
“Umm,” Sophie said quickly, “last time I didn’t do too well in the water, so, I think I’ll also decline.” Giving a slight shrug, she ran after Marie.
There was silence for a while.
“Do we stand a chance on our own?” Peter finally asked Razan.
“I doubt it,” he answered. “But joining is the important thing, is it not?”
“I’m not too sure,” Peter said. “We are allowed to skip contests, after all.”
Razan frowned, thinking it over. “If we don’t join, we will have to provide an explanation to our friends. What will that explanation be?”
Peter hesitated, also frowning. Finally he looked at Nop. “Razan and I will join.”
The samurai nodded.
“Very well,” Nop said uncertainly. “Tonight I’ll let you know what color shell you’ll be asked to collect.”
“Thank you,” Razan said.
They looked at Marie’s door.
“How bad do you think it is?” Peter asked.
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“I’ve never seen her outside this area without at least three blades,” Razan said slowly. “She doesn’t even have real ammunition for her pistols, but is almost always carrying them.”
“I thought that was just for show,” Peter admitted.
Razan flicked the fringe of Peter’s poncho. “It can be both.”
Peter pulled his arms in, conceding the point with a grunt. “Well… Now we know. Don’t let Captain have her weapons taken away.”
“It will never happen,” Razan swore.
Sophie left their group area, having been dismissed by Marie. They’d talked for a while, but it had been obvious there were things Marie wasn't going to tell her.
Given how safe Sophie felt when Marie was around, she tended to forget Marie had lived a very dangerous life. She didn't know how Marie had gone from growing up in Haiti during the revolution to a slave ship to a pirate ship, but none of it could have been safe. Apparently events had left Marie with a fundamental need to never be unarmed.
Sophie was nearly to the climbing room when she saw Keiko heading into the sparring room. Razan would be in there, and he’d probably like to know how Marie was.
After a moment of hesitation, Sophie changed direction to follow Keiko.
The usual occupants of the room were going through their usual morning exercises when she walked in. Razan saw her and immediately stopped, putting his sword away before coming to meet her. She was fine until he absently brushed the hair out of his face, at which point her mind went completely blank. It had been doing that quite a lot lately.
He reached her and bowed, the hair falling back into his face with the movement. “How is Captain Marie?” he asked, true concern in his voice.
“She’s…” Sophie looked away, pulling herself together. “Better. The idea startled her, but since she’s not going, she recovered quickly, from what I could tell. As long as no one asks her to leave her weapons behind, she’s all right. Pirates need their weapons.”
“I agree, but I also worry,” he said. “That reaction was strong.”
“She’s been in many dangerous situations,” Sophie said softly, not sure how much she should say, then remembered what Louis had told her in London. “Marie wants to keep everyone safe, and she can't do that unarmed.”
“Even completely unarmed, I doubt Captain Marie wouldn't be able to defend herself,” Razan said.
“I think it’s less about that and more about it not being her choice,” Sophie said carefully. She realized she’d just contradicted him on a serious matter and flinched. “I don't know, I’m probably being silly, I’ve never understood why people do things. I know nothing about weapons or fighting; you should have gone to talk to her instead, and you’d understand perfectly.”
“You aren’t silly,” Razan said absently as he thought things over.
Sophie found herself stepping closer to him, her hand reaching out to take his, but stepped away, clasping her hands behind her back.
He glanced at the samurai at the other end of the room. “I have always been encouraged to not question leaders or speak about emotions. I’m glad you were able to ask. Peter was also worried, and would appreciate it if you told him how she is.”
“Right, aye,” Sophie said, focusing on the topic at hand. “I’ll see if I can find him. Will you be here all day?”
“No, I plan to spend the afternoon with Innoka.”
“Oh. I… should say my farewells to her.”
“I'm sure that would be appreciated.”
Sophie wasn't sure at all. A part of her was very glad Innoka was leaving, and she suspected Innoka knew that. “Yes. I’ll go look for her, too.” She turned towards the door, feeling her cheeks grow warm.
“Sophie.”
She froze. “Yes?”
Razan moved to look her in the eye. “Thank you for letting me know how our captain is feeling.”
Extremely pathetically, Sophie managed a few half-replies as she hurried out the door.
Razan walked back to his room, having been turned away at the Foxes’ door. He understood why; it was getting late in the evening, the group wanted to spend a few hours together, and Innoka still wasn't ready to leave in the morning.
But it meant that, without knowing, he’d already seen her for the last time. What he’d thought was going to be a temporary good-bye when they parted for dinner had become the final good-bye.
He got to his room and sat down at his desk, pulling over paper and brushes. Feeling more resigned than anything, he put a perfectly straight line onto the page, proving he had full control of at least one thing in his life.
And then he drew another perfectly straight line. And another. And another.
Halfway through his third page, he heard a light tap on his door and threw a dry paintbrush at it. The door, seeing movement, slid open.
Sophie cautiously stepped in. “I… wasn't expecting you to actually be here.”
“Where did you expect me to be?” he asked, drawing yet another perfectly straight, controlled line.
“With Innoka,” she said, sitting down next to him.
“She requested I give her space as she prepares to leave,” Razan said, keeping his voice neutral.
“Why are you painting stripes?”
He felt his teeth grind. “Because that is what I must paint.”
“Must?” Sophie echoed.
“I don't decide what I paint, I just hold the cursed brush and it takes over. Tonight, it demands straight lines.”
“Oh.”
“Lines that never intersect, so there’s no way they can grow attached and then be torn apart, left alone to wonder why the universe just insists they can't have any meaningful relationships that last more than two years. Even when they’re literally kidnapped by creatures from another world, and think ‘no one here is allowed to just leave, surely opening up to someone here is safe’, no, something happens as soon as I do, and we’ll be separated forever. I’ve certainly learned my lesson this time! I will never allow myself to even remotely care about anyone ever again, and the universe will be at peace!”
There was silence long enough that he looked up to find her watching him with a very concerned expression.
“Sorry,” he bit out, looking back at his paper.
“Why two years?” she asked softly.
“Training,” he answered, wondering why he was telling her this. “We moved every year or other year. Started when I was six; by the time I was ten I knew leaving friends was painful, so I did my best to not have any. After a few months I seemed to gain them anyway, and then when we left it was, indeed, painful. As an adult, being a samurai means doing whatever the person who pays you orders. This includes being ordered to work for someone else, halfway across the country. Far, far away from the people you’ve finally started to care about.”
Sophie picked up his thinnest brush and slid his paper towards her. “That sounds extremely unfair.”
She started drawing vines, threading them between and around the thick, straight lines. Occasionally she’d add a tiny leaf or flower. Razan just watched, his undirected anger having fizzled out, leaving him completely devoid of thoughts or emotions.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” she finally said, glancing up with a faint smile. “Wild horses couldn't drag me off this ship. Feel free to rely on me as a friend for life.”
“As soon as I say that, the countdown will begin for me to get myself kicked off this ship,” he said.
She looked at him defiantly. “If that happens, I’ll go with you to Japan, and follow you around like a ghost.”
“Didn't you just say you were never leaving?”
“I said they couldn't get rid of me if they tried. But the idea of annoying you for all eternity is slightly more appealing than staying here until I’m too old to climb.”
He almost laughed. “Somehow I believe you.”
“Good. I’m a thief, not a liar. And you’re a poet, so you have to have experienced terrible heartbreak at some point. Innoka leaving is probably the universe ticking a box for you.”
“You think I’ve never had a broken heart before?”
“I don't know; a month ago I would have said you didn't have a heart to be broken.”
Razan sighed, watching her draw more vines, and decided it was time to change subjects before he broke down. “What you're drawing is… cute.”
“It’s not realistic, which is the only type of art that matters in England. My youngest sister happens to be excellent at painting realistic things. My mind apparently doesn't see reality, so the only way I can draw is this.”
Desperate for a conversation that had nothing to do with emotions, Razan asked, “Did you have a teacher for art?”
“Yes, and I did everything he said, but it always ended up wrong. Honestly, I much prefer your art; strong lines, confident strokes, one or two colors, letting the mind fill in details. No tiny little dabs, using fifty thousand color combinations, and heaven forbid you get the shading wrong on an apple or ladies will scream and faint just looking at it.”
“That seems far more difficult than art ought to be,” Razan decided. “Art ought to flow from the soul, not connected to the mind.”
“Maybe that’s why I like your paintings,” she said, finishing and cleaning the brush. “They’re true. Not correct based on what some dead man said two hundred years ago.” She pushed the drawing back to him.
His harsh lines now looked like a fence in the country, overgrown with flowering vines. A few bees were scattered around near the top. Not thinking, Razan took a medium brush and added a plump bird to the top of one of the posts, on the right side of the page.
Sophie giggled. “Perfect.”
“I should give you more of my paintings to add to,” he said.
“Well, we still have to decide what to paint on the walls,” she shrugged. “Would you like to do that tonight, or play cards?”
Razan kept his eyes on the table. “Neither. I would prefer solitude.”
“Pity,” she said stubbornly. “If you didn't want me here, you shouldn't have let me in.”
That got him to smile in spite of everything. Still not thinking, he pulled her into a kiss. He almost backed away immediately, but she leaned in, her hands going to his shoulders. Since Sophie seemed to have no objection, he pulled her closer.
It was quite a while before she broke away. She smiled impishly, her hands sliding to his chest. “Any ideas on how to spend the evening?”
Razan watched her for a few seconds, then shook his head. “Sophie, this might be a bad idea. I’m not myself tonight.”
“No, you’re just not in control. You act calm and collected, but that’s not really you, is it? I… want to know who you really are.”
“You don't. It’s not worth it.”
“Yes, I do! You regret every connection you’ve ever made; well at least you made them! I never had the chance to, so I don't understand how people work. Every time I tried, people told me there was something wrong with me, and they didn't want me anywhere near them. I know I’m annoying and horrible, and I always mess things up, but for some unfathomable reason you keep ending up at my side; I want to know why! I want to know you, I want to know why you don't hate me. I want… you, Razan.”
A few seconds of silence passed. She stared at him with wide eyes half-filled with tears.
Finally he sighed, taking her hand. “I’m drawn to your side because I enjoy being in your company. I tried to scare you away, but for some unfathomable reason you trust me. How could I break that trust or demand you leave when I want you here?” He gave half a shrug. “And you aren't horrible. If I were truly bothered by you, I would have simply stopped responding to anything you said or did. I suspect I’m just as entertained by annoying you as you are by annoying me. It’s all an act, a game, and I would be very sad if we stopped playing.”
This time Sophie initiated the kiss. Razan pulled her onto his lap, hoping the conversation was over and would never be brought up again. He felt her press her body against his and broke away, smiling.
“Sophie, may I take your clothes off?”
“You may do anything you like.”

