Celebration
Laughter and cheers, the clinking of glass, the smell of booze and roasted fish, the rhythmic thud on wood as people dance, the music — he didn't even know people snuck instruments on board — ties the scene
with a big red ribbon. What a beautiful night.
Leaning on the taffrail, Kemuri looks on to the party held on the deck of the Melancholy. Hard to believe they actually did it. Everything they wished to accomplish — well, Clarence would argue that regicide is just the first step, there's still so much to do but, right now, a celebration is in order.
Speaking of Clarence, Kemuri chuckles lightly as his captain jumps around from one thing to another, a blur among the crew. He's been trying all night to get Mallard to dance with him with varying degrees of success. All it took was some beer and puppy eyes for Mal to cave. They were drunkenly swaying in each other's arms, up until the music piped up and Clarence thought that spinning him around and trying to dip him was a good idea. Pretty sure he almost bashed his head against a barrel. Some morons. Wouldn't have it any other way though.
The thought catches him by surprise.
Huh.
He looks back, across the expanse of the ocean, towards the direction they were sailing from. Towards the life he left behind. Living in the cramped soldier barracks with few coins to his name and nothing but back-breaking jobs after another. Fighting tooth and nail to restore his honour, earn his title as samurai, rise in ranks. Spilling blood for faceless leaders only to get nothing in return. He’s never been one for frivolities but even he can recognize the living conditions there were below subpar.
Not in a million years would he have expected to become part of a revolution but, looking back, it was obvious that he would’ve followed Clarence to the end of the world.
He doesn't know when they will be able to go back home, not when the tension is high and the Array army is out for them. He figured he'd miss it. He doesn't. He's found the people he belongs with, and soon, they will be able to set the roots of a brand new life. For them.
He glances back to the party, eyes unconsciously searching for his two idiots — did they sneak off somewhere, the weirdos? Or did Clarence actually bash Mal's head in and had to go patch him up? He really can't leave them alone for more than 5 seconds — a hand touches his chest, reaches for his front pocket and takes one of his cigarettes. He fears for a moment that his instinct is getting dulled, but really, there's only one sneaky bastard here that would be cocky enough to pull such a heist.
As expected, Mallard stands besides him, looking like a cat that ate the canary. He tried to tell Clarence that his ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere should be utilized more in and out of combat, to no avail. Every time without fail, Clarence would shoot down his ideas. Something about Mal’s upbringing, 'being quiet, taking little space, being unobtrusive and unnoticeable', but really, all his angry tirades about the Array and their shit government are just covering the truth. He’s trying to protect him. Despite his efforts to hide it, Kemuri saw the color drain from Clarence’s face when he saw Mal manning the cannons of the ship.
Mal now doesn’t seem concerned by taking little space as he reaches towards him and tangles his hands in his braided beard, pulling him forward and pressing the end of his cigarette against his. Embers dance snug together, the light uselessly trying to pierce the void of Mal’s eyes. He steps back and fixes Kemuri's beard like one would with a tie. "How long do you think it'll take Clarence to remember he promised me a beer?" He takes the single drag he allows himself, soon enough he'll discard it, probably chuck it into the sea. He always does this. Why does he love to waste his supply? This stuff ain't cheap.
"That's impossible to tell with him. Where did he even scurry off to?"
"Got distracted by one thing or another. I saw the opportunity and fled from that blasted dance floor," Mal leans against one of the many cannons hanging off the deck — that seems dangerous, he should probably tell him off. He doesn't. The faintest smirk remains on his co-captain's face as his eyes seem to follow an indistinguishable point darting between the crowd, "Have some faith in him, I say about seven minutes. Seven minutes and a half."
"That's generous. I give him ten."
"We have a deal then."
They sit in companionable silence, the rest of the crew making enough ruckus for the both of them. Kemuri can't help but glance over Mal twirling the cigarette between his fingers. He seems lighter. He doubts anything will ever lift the tension off his shoulders or the way his piercing gaze glazes over when he thinks no one is looking. But his posture is not as stiff, his movements mellowed out. Hell, he saw him smiling— he heard him laugh! Clarence’s jabs are gonna get him killed once Mal recovers from embarrassment. He doesn't look like the Array's constant obedient shadow. It's just Mal. It suits him.
They've all been in much higher spirits. There's a spark in each and every single member of the crew now.
The rebellion took its toll on them, but now? So close to the finish line, everyone is eager to start anew. Clarence’s boisterous personality has been a great help through it all, keeping the crew together, lifting their spirits. The planning, the hiding, the fighting had been rough, Clarence had been on the verge of calling the whole thing off more times than either of them would like to admit. Too many variables, too many risks. But in the end it was all worth it. A hope for a better future. It will take effort but the path has never been clearer.
A slew of curses is faintly heard over the commotion followed by Clarence rushing over, people parting like the sea, three beers in hand. Sigh. 10 minutes haven't passed yet have they? He can already see Mal's stupid smug face in the corner of his vision. What a prick.
"Sorry! Here's your beer— got one for you too big guy. The new twerp got a spark of genius and I had to see what he was up to. To make sure he didn't blow anything up of course. As any responsible captain would."
The thought doesn’t even have to cross Clarence’s mind before Mal is already placing the cigarette between his lips. With a delighted grin, their captain hands them their drinks.
Tsk. Mal thinks he's being clever hiding his smile behind the rim of his glass. "Wouldn't expect anything less from our darling captain." His adoration can be seen from across the ocean.
Despite the serene silence that has fallen over the trio, if you really strain your ears, you can hear the faint grinding of Clarence’s teeth and the wheels in his brain turning. He’s riling himself up for one of his famous rants.
“You know, good riddance and all. I’m glad it’s over. But fuck man. Cross came up with this crazy invention, like — It’s a weird gun but it has acid bullets? I wish we had it against the Array and pulverised one of them. Getting blown up to a thousand pieces was a merciful death, all things considered.”
Here it is.
Kemuri spares Mal a pleading look, hoping he can butt in before the peaceful mood gets soiled further, unfortunately he’s nodding sagely along as if he’s actually listening to a single word that’s being said.
“I mean you’ve seen our plans—” his genius is both a marvel and a horror to witness firsthand, “And I think unleashing a herd of geese was another fitting way to go. Eat the rich, as they say. Inefficient, sure, but it would’ve at least been funnier.” He accentuates his point by waving his cigarette in the air like a skillful conductor.
“Do you think that’s why we lost some members a while back? They mocked us for our insane ideas yet look where we are now, we won! Hah! In their face!” He victoriously flings the cigarette into the ocean.There it goes, another one from his precious stash gone to waste. These two will drive him mad.
Unperturbed, Clarence weasels his way between the two of them and places an arm around each. "We're almost out! Just one last stop in Deadwood to get the last supplies we need and we're golden! And, and— get this. Once we're somewhere safe I promise you we will celebrate for real. A feast like no other awaits you my friends, booze as far as the eyes can see. We've earned this."
Raising his glass towards the sky, he shouts, "To us!"
Laughter and beer and hope for a better future.
What a beautiful night that was.
