While Wakaï practiced aiming at paper targets alone, Taehyung taught Seokjin the basics of Kyudo.

"It's one of the Japanese martial arts but it's not the same thing as warrior archery."

"What's the point if it's not to wage war?" Seokjin asked, disappointed. He had the impression that all Japanese martial arts revolved around concentration and following strictly codified rules which made no sense to him.

"Let me finish explaining. As you are far from having acquired the patience necessary for any good warrior, kyudo will not be useless to you. It will allow you to develop the discipline of your body just as takigyo allows you to develop the discipline of your mind."

"Discipline again..." Seokjin grumbled.

"Yes, always. Do you see the sheets of paper on which the captain shoots his arrows? The wind can make them move at any moment and without perfect posture and balance, as well as synchronization of your mind with the elements around you, your arrow will not pierce the leaf, it will pass under it or it will simply fold it instead of piercing it."

Seokjin widened his eyes.

"How am I supposed to pierce a piece of paper that can fly away? This is impossible!"

"A correct shot always hits its target. Remember that the problem is never the target, it's always the archer. You will achieve the perfect movement if you concentrate well and it is your diligent practice of takigyo that will allow you to achieve this concentration."

"Sensei, my head hurts," Seokjin grumbled.

"Look at the captain," Taehyung ordered.

Displeased, Seokjin turned to Wakaï who was so focused that not one of his muscles was moving. His back was straight, his fingers tightly clenched around the bow and the fletching of the arrow, his left arm outstretched and his right drawn back, his left eye closed and his right eye open, one could have taken him for a statue. 

From time to time, his lustrous black hair was stirred by a light breeze, but the rest of his body was one with the earth. And the arrow he held was waiting for only one thing: to be able to become one with the air when the moment was perfectly chosen. 

If the crickets hadn't been so loud, Seokjin was sure he would have been able to hear his breathing, the meditative silence that had established itself was so powerful.

It took him several minutes to realize that he was in complete admiration in front of the wako captain and he forced himself to get rid of this hypnotic vision and to show himself mockingly:

"It's too long, I would have had plenty of time to pierce his heart."

Taehyung hit him in the back of the head with his bow.

"Ouch!" Seokjin yelled, massaging his scalp. 

His cry had not distracted Wakai.

"I told you it wasn't a weapon of war," Taehyung said. "It's art. The captain will not shoot until he has achieved perfect harmony."

"It seems to me, however, that he has achieved harmony," Seokjin said sincerely, focusing his eyes on Wakaï again and analyzing this man. The more he looked at him, the more he found a certain perfection in his physical appearance and his mastery of weapons.

"Do you think so too?" Taehyung said.

"Eh?"

Again, Seokjin broke eye contact with Wakaï and turned to the samurai. He saw that he was looking at Wakaï with admiration. This made him miss the moment when Wakaï suddenly pierced the sheet of paper with a muffled sound. The wako released the arrow in a graceful movement that made Taehyung say in a voice full of reverence:

"Wonderful..."

"Pfff, I can do it just as well or better than him," said Seokjin, who wanted to prove to Taehyung that Wakaï was nothing exceptional.

"Then position yourself," Taehyung told him, handing him a bow.

"I want an arrow."

"Start by showing me how you position yourself."

Seokjin positioned himself as he had seen Wakaï do earlier. Taehyung looked at him carefully, as if looking for a flaw.

"You have a noble posture, I have never seen anyone stand so straight," he said finally.

Seokjin, surprised to receive such a compliment, gave him a radiant smile.

"You have to believe that my mother's education equals that of the samurai. She said my beautiful face was of no use to me if my back was hunched like an old man's, so I always paid attention to my posture."

"Having a beautiful face is of no use to a samurai," Taehyung replied.

Seokjin lost his smile and  grimaced at him.

"Your back is straight but your arm is not straight enough," Taehyung said, "and your shoulder is not-"

"It's okay, relax, Sensei," Seokjin cut him off impertinently, "I'll show you that I can aim true even without the guidance of a samurai. I was the best pistol shooter in my year group of the Joseon Navy."

"The pistol has nothing to do with kyudo," Wakaï replied, approaching them. "What a remarkably straight back," he remarked, looking at Seokjin with such fascination that the admiral hoped his face hadn't blushed but only expressed pride.

"That's what I told him and now he thinks it's enough," Taehyung explained to him, displeased with his disciple. "He refuses to accept advice to progress."

Wakaï looked for Seokjin's gaze, who gave him a confident look in return.

"Taehyung, go find Yoongi and ask him to load some pistols," the captain finally said.

Seokjin jumped, on guard, while Taehyung bowed and obeyed.

"Pistols?" he asked with a frown wondering if, annoyed by his arrogance, Wakaï had finally changed his plan and planned to have him executed.

"You are a good pistol shooter according to your claims, admiral, and I will let you prove it but for now, you will have to prove that you can do it just as well or better than me."

Seokjin widened his eyes and blushed slightly.

"Did you hear that?!"

"Yes, I heard," Wakaï agreed before handing him an arrow. "Now show me. If you hit the target perfectly the first time, I'll let you walk off the property with me next time."

"For real?!" Seokjin asked with the excitement of a child.

That made Wakaï smile.

"Yes, for real."

Seokjin chuckled.

"You're going to regret that." 

He got into position and tried as best he could to adopt the perfect position. But it was difficult, feeling the pirate's gaze weighing on him.

"Don't look at me," he mumbled without looking at him.

Aiming the target as he would with a pistol, he shot. But the lead bullet he was accustomed to was different from the wooden arrow he had just thrown, much lighter and weaker against the whim of the wind. In reality, Seokjin had aimed well but the arrow simply pushed the leaf without cutting it and calmly continued its course in an arc before planting itself in the grassy ground.

Red with shame, he stretched out his hand and ordered:

"Give me another arrow, it didn't count, it was a test shot."

With a grin on his face, Wakaï did not object and handed him the arrow he was asking for. Seokin again failed to slice the paper and asked for a third and final try, which he failed again.

"Shit!" he yelled.

Disappointed, he was about to angrily throw his bow on the ground but Wakaï grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Stretch your arm out, like you're going to shoot," he ordered.

"Let go, I don't want to shoot anymore," Seokjin replied.

"Do it."

The tone of his voice was serious, without being too imperious so Seokjin sighed and repositioned himself as before. Wakaï's hand did not let go. He positioned himself behind Seokjin and placed his left hand on his left arm to make him tense more. With his right hand, he pulled back Seokjin's bent right arm, which was pulling on the bowstring. He held himself against his back, as if to make sure the admiral was straight, and only then did he say:

"Here, your position is perfect."

"Quickly, give me an arrow then!" Seokjin told him urgently, without moving a single muscle for fear of losing this perfect position.

Wakaï picked up an arrow which he positioned himself on the string by sliding it into the fletching. But instead of removing his hand afterward, he closed it around Seokjin's.

"What are you doing?" Seokjin asked, surprised.

"I'll show you how it's done." 

"I understood how to do it, thanks: just let go of the string and the arrow will fly," Seokjin replied, mockingly.

WakaÏ chuckled and his breath came to tickle Seokjin's neck pleasantly. His laugh was frank, not hidden behind a sniff.

"It tickles! Are you doing this on purpose to distract me?" Seokjin complained without managing to get angry this time. "And stop making fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you but but I told you that you made me laugh. I understand Taehyung's dismay, you're really not an easy disciple. You lack patience and you react with spontaneity."

"That's exactly what I'm saying, you're making fun of me."

"No, I'm not. I didn't say I didn't like it. You remind me of someone I would have liked to teach kyudo to and to laugh at him like I do with you. I know he would have failed over and over again, saying that he was only made to hold thread and a needle and not to be a warrior. But in the end, it wouldn't have mattered because all I wanted was to have fun with him, not to see him succeed in handling weapons."

Listening to him, Seokjin felt an uneasiness settling inside him, as if Wakaï had come to share a luminous part of him that he did not want to discover: he had been a young man who laughed and just wanted to have fun with his friend. It should have been difficult for Seokjin to imagine, but he managed easily. After all, he himself had also been a happy child before changing into a wako-killing admiral with no morals. This must have been the case for many monsters sailing on the waves of the world.

 This man's past wasn't as dark as he thought, but he didn't want to know that and then start unwillingly feeling compassion for him. However, Seokjin had the impression that this was not the intention of this powerful man who had no need to receive compassion from anyone. He frowned and asked.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I..." The wako began but interrupted very quickly, as if he regretted. "I don't know. Maybe because training in kyudo reminds me that the samurai meditations taught me to overcome torment."

"You were tormented?" Seokjin asked without thinking. 

He was understanding that this was surely what had made him become this implacable and morose man that he had become and who no longer knew how to laugh. Before reaching that impassive face and those dry, piercing eyes, how many tears had he had to shed? 

"It was a long time ago," the other replied evasively, in a desire to escape Seokjin's interest in his weaknesses. "But you too are consumed by guilt and sorrow, you too can find peace here, in the land of the samurai."

The memory of the conversation they had the night the storm broke arose in Seokjin and anger thundered within him.

"I am not tormented," he replied darkly, his voice vibrating with anger. He tried to loosen his grip around the bow and to free himself from the grip of the other man but Wakaï stopped him. "Let me go," Seokjin ordered sharply.

"I won't."

"I said let me go!" Seokjin yelled while struggling but the other's strength was excessive.

"And said I won't," the other calmly replied, who was strangely still next to Seokjin's agitated figure who was struggling, as if holding Seokjin didn't require any effort. "Now, take a deep breath, find this anger deep within your being."

"No," Seokjin replied, refusing to obey anything Wakaï said to him.

"Exhale deeply and expel it out of you," the pirate continued. "You think this anger is aimed at me, that's why you keep yelling at me. Until you understand that you are angry with yourself, you will not be able to get rid of it and enjoy this life that belongs to you and not a ghost from your past."

Seokjin widened his eyes and froze.

"No, you're wrong!" Seokjin repeated. "It's you I hate, so get off me!"

Behind him, Wakaï didn't move but fell silent and the silence enveloped them both. All that remained was the sound of their breathing, the slow one of the Japanese and the frantic one of the distraught admiral. 

But as the silence continued and his breathing calmed, Seokjin, who was looking in front of him at the paper target twirling in the breeze, questioned. Was the wako behind him totally wrong? Since that unfortunate evening when he had let his wounded heart express itself on the Princess's desck, had he not thought about what he said? About what he felt? About his guilt that devoured him?

I'm the one who abandoned him! It is because of my weakness, my cowardice that he died! And even if I rid all the seas of this globe of the pirates who inhabit them, it would not be enough because he would still be dead!

He remembered shouting that to Wakaï but at the same time, to have realized that he was the most legitimate target of his own anger. Indeed, it was practically impossible, given his young age, that this man had been one of the pirates who had attacked them fifteen years earlier. He wasn't responsible for Jungkook's death. Quite the opposite of himself who, by forcing Jungkook to protect the weak boy he was, had made him vulnerable and led to death.

Expel your anger out of you, Wakaï had told him. Was he asking him to forget the revenge he owed his friend? Was that what he meant by enjoy this life that belongs to you and not a ghost from your past?

Seokjin wondered for a moment what it would change for him, to forget Jungkook, to forget his hatred. Could he make friends again and agree to have fun like he used to? No, childhood and carefreeness were far away, he had lost them forever, it was impossible...

And yet, here with Wakaï teaching him kyudo and managing to make him laugh at his expense, he felt like this was the life he should have led growing up with Jungkook. Jungkook. He fought back the tears that threatened to fall. He wouldn't cry in front of the pirate anymore. Forgetting Jungkook would mean finally stopping suffering like this and perhaps taste an inner peace than his adult mind had known. Was he capable of it? he asked himself as he took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat. 

Behind him, Wakaï's body was completely still, the man was calm and this serenity had something strangely reassuring. He felt like if he calmed down completely, he could become one with him and everything around them.

He jumped when the pirate whispered in his ear:

"Do you feel that the wind is starting to die down?"

Yes, Seokjin suddenly felt it. It was like at sea, where he had to perceive the slightest changes in the wind to make your ship sail. Is that why he loved sailing so much, even though he was afraid of the sea? Because navigation brought him the calm he needed to avoid being consumed by his anger?

But this anger was his only way to keep Jungkook with him. If he let it go, he was the one he let go at the same time. Yet thinking about it made him feel lighter, more alive. He took another deep breath. 

"Let your muscles relax..."  Wakaï continued to guide him in his calm and soothing whispered voice.

Seokjin began to feel a complete calm come over him and with it, deep well-being. He felt empty of all worries. Wakaï's hand slowly loosened from his as if to let him act on his own.

"Now let go of what needs to go..." he said.

Without thinking, Seokjin let go of the string and the arrow sliced ​​through the air at prodigious speed to pierce the sheet of paper several meters away. The tearing sound then broke the suspended moment and Seokjin, speechless, turned back to Wakaï.

The pirate was smiling at him.

"You made it, admiral. You have achieved the perfect harmony."