It was so dark, heavy, and it was so, so cold.

This is all that Yoongi had in mind as continued to be dragged down, deep, deep into the sea, his blurry vision slowly going dark as the light of the moon shined lit up the waters. But it couldn’t reach where Yoongi going, the moon couldn’t reach the very bottom of the sea.

His lungs and eyes felt like they were burning from the lack of air and the salt.

It was so odd at how he felt so at peace so deep into the waters of life, the very waters which threaten to take his life at this very moment, he realized belatedly.

Should I start trying to swim to the surface? He wondered.

The very thought seemed to spring the fading fire in his veins into a bonfire that reached the very skies and he begun to sluggishly move his arms in the motions he had been taught at a young age.

(“It would not due for a prince, for anyone in the royal family for that matter, to die from not being able to prevent drowning,” a monotone voice muttered in a manner he vaguely remembered to be his older brother. The Crown Prince.)

Legs kicked with more vigor as he got closer and closer to the surface, the moon shining upon him now as well, as though welcoming him back to the world that had given up on searching for survivors’, which can’t be right because he couldn’t have been down under for longer than five minutes.

He closed his eyes as the burning in both them and in his lungs threaten to just  b u r s t. . .

He opened his eyes, only to see he had begun to decent once more, and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel panicked for the first time which had made him feel just how heavy his limbs were becoming.

Yet he didn’t give up like any other man in his position would do, like so many sailors and pirates knew that this could very well happen to them in their future, oh no, no.

He only became more determined to live.

It was a good thing, in his opinion, that he had long since gotten used to the chill that went bone deep, had become numb to it all, and swam as quickly he could manage.

He swam and swam and swam until his right hand had broken away from the water and reached the surface.

The child gasped, “will Prince Yoongi be okay, mama?!”

“Of course, my child, this is a love story, is it not?” the mother laughed softly.

The child pouted, “but mama, are you sure? He was under for such a long time!”

“Yes, worry not, my son and let me continue,” said the mother with a gentle tone.

The child nodded, feeling relieved, “okay, mama~”
 

Splash!

Yoongi woke up with a gasp, turned over onto his side and coughed out the small amount of remaining sea water out of his lungs, his head pounding against the heat of the sun that burned him. Once he recovered, Yoongi begun surveying his surroundings, noticing how he was on top of a clutter of rocks that were high up enough so the water wouldn’t reach him without a strong enough tide. Which evidently woke him up.

Glancing around, he noticed how he was at an island that the ship he had been aboard passed a day ago.

He recognized the formations of the rocks that surrounded the island, though they look much more harmless in person than they did when he had been on the ship miles away. They were soft, with smooth edges.

Coughing a bit more water out, Yoongi struggled to sit up, though he felt nauseated from just the motion alone, as both his head was killing him and his eyes were still watery from the long exposure of salt water. He’s surprised he could even keep them open long enough to even reach the sandy shore of the tropical island which would offer him much more protection from the sun.

His pale skin probably looks more than a little red, much like a godforsaken watermelon even.

But…

He’s alive.

He can heal from this.

Now all he needs to do is find a way to survive on an island where no one lives and hope that someone could pick him up if they happen to see his campfire.

And survive he does.

For all of three months, he survived on that island on the fruits that the island grows and on the occasional fish that he happened to catch in his rather fishing net he had placed close by the clutter of rocks he had woken up on, and during that time he lost a good amount of weight but not enough to be unhealthy. His hair had also apparently forsaken the strawberry blonde in favor of just plain blonde from being in the sun so much and his skin had gotten used to the exposure eventually though that’s not to say that process wasn’t painful.

It’s also surprising he hadn’t lost his sanity, but perhaps he had.

Because ever since he had begun to make that island his home, he never once felt as though he was alone.

“What? But how could that be, mama?” the child had interrupted to ask, shocked at that reveal, “was there someone else there the entire time?”

The mother smiled, “this is a love story, is it not?”

“But that… oh!” the child giggled, covering his mouth in glee, seafoam green eyes sparkling in mirth.

He was lightly dozing, when he had heard a splash, and although he had gotten used to the sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks formed around the island he now inhabits, it struck a sense of unfamiliarity with him.

It didn’t sound all that familiar, at all.

He turned his head to the side, to look towards the beach, where the sound had originated from, and cobalt eyes widen in shock, for there was someone watching from the very spot he first woke up from and they had eyes that glittered in the dark like a piece of jewelry would in the sun.

Yoongi had never seen someone with such gorgeous pair of green eyes.

Those green eyes then widen in shock.

Yoongi blinked, eyes having gone dry.

Those beautiful, inhuman eyes were gone.

Yoongi felt disappointed and disgruntled when he woke up the next morning and with someone whom had boring, dark brown eyes standing over him.

Rescue had arrived, drawn by the smoke his campfire.

The mother paused.

The child tilted his child to the side, “what happens now? Prince Yoongi had met the one he will love, right?”

“Mm,” the mother hummed, “love takes time, my son.”
 

The child huffed, arms crossing, “but why does he have to be rescued now? Prince Yoongi won’t be able to see his love now!”
 

The mother laughed, bright and clear, “most people do not fall love in love right away, son; and Prince Yoongi’s heart is such a prickly thing. It is a good thing he had been rescued.”

Min Yoongi had died in a shipwreck along with a good majority of the crew of the ship he had been boarded on.

The Kingdom of Daegu had mourned for a month, the amount of time it took for someone who survived the shipwreck to think to notify the royal family of their loss, having lost the beautiful and witty Min Yoongi with no hope of ever hearing from him again.

The King and Queen, however, shared joyous news; the Queen is with child. She announced that she shall name the child, Yoongi the Second, in the honor of her late son.

This is what he had found out when he asked the men that had rescued him from the island. They say it's so shocking how he had survived, especially since the ship had been attacked mercilessly by the raging water tornado.

“Shame, too,” one of the men had spoken, “that lil princey was a nice lookin’, too.”

“You’ve seen him?” he asked, eyebrow raised, “I was under the impression no one ever saw him expect servants and his family.”

The man smirked, “I had happen to be at the port and saw a glimpse of ‘im when he boarded that doomed ship; I remember that strawberry blonde hair the most.”

“Ag’st! Ag’st D! Where ye be hidin’? Da docks ai’t g’nna c’ea’ the’se’ves!”

Agust D. sneered at the speech being directed at him. It’s amazing he could even understand what that face is even saying.

The man next to him clapped him on the shoulder, “Bear with it, lad, he’ll move on soon enough.”

Agust D. plans on doing just that, but that doesn’t mean he won’t figure out a way to get rid of that pathetic excuse of a captain.

He doesn’t understand how that piece of captain is one of the feared pirate ‘lords’ that roam the seas.

A memory came dancing across his mind from a time long since passed; a lesson that his father had bothered to give to his two sons, for special cases such as these.

Don’t let it be said that royalty are incapable just because they live pampered and sheltered lives.

After all, Agust D. thought to himself as he felt the return of a heavy gaze settle upon his back as he lays on the railing of the wooden ship, royalty are capable of acting a role given to them by the masses.

“Mama, what do you mean by that?”

“You’ll see, sweetheart, now hush, or do you wish for me to put the story on hold on until tomorrow night?”

“Awww~ I’m sorry, mama, I’m just so excited about this!”
 

A year had passed since the former prince had become a captain of the pirate crew that had rescued from that island.

A year had passed since Agust D. and the sea creature had begun to play charades with each other.

Seven months had passed since the formation of the Pact of Twelve, an alliance between the biggest and most fearsome pirates, in order to fight off the attempted annihilation of all pirates by the combined navy of six countries.

Five months had passed since the attempted assassination of Agust D. by a bounty hunter looking for quick cash.

Five months had passed since Agust D. had declared his status of top dog of the sea.

Three months ago Agust D. had raided a Japanese fishing village for a purpose no one could understand. The Japanese seemed to have known, what with how they cursed at him as he walked by them casually.

Something to do with an "oni."

In the entirety of the year and nine months he had been the captain, all the extra responsibility of a crew, pirate or not, did not weigh heavily on Agust D.’s shoulder like he thought it would, but it was still a pain to have to attend the annual meetings that being in an pirate alliance required in order to keep tabs on each other. They usually end up taking hours upon hours to complete, all because of petty squabbles between the twelve of them.

It’s a miracle that no one ever gets killed.

Yet it still doesn’t mean that sun-bleached hair captain doesn’t swear up a storm whenever the day of the next meeting gets closer and closer. He makes even the oldest of them blush with his creative and colourful mouth when he gets rather worked up.

But then he had been able to just relax and enjoy the company of his beautiful sea creature.

He could and it - he, his sea creature is a male - could just watch and examine each other in silence but Agust D. had gotten quite good at lip reading. The sea creature couldn't tell him his name without sounding like a dying rat above the waters.

Though when the former Prince once fell into the ocean when the ship was rocked by harsh waves during one of the sea creature's visits, he found out that he sounds like what an angel would probably sound like; a voice that hums and sings that echoes in a way that engulfs him much how a fearsome storm can make the water swallow a ship whole in one big tide.

It's exhilarating.

In fact . . . oh? What's this? You have fallen asleep? Looks like we will have to continue the story tomorrow night.