When Seokjin opened his eyes again, he was no longer facing Kaïto and there was no trace of Yusuke either. 

He was lying across a hard, damp ground and his body was in pain, as if he had been unceremoniously thrown onto it, in a small space surrounded by sharp metal bars so close to him that he could barely move. Besides, his arms were painfully twisted behind his back and he realized that he was chained to a heavy metal ring fixed in the ground. He couldn't get up, just sit down. 

Unlike the hold he had spent time in on Jungkook's ship, there was a small window blocked off by bars, which let in some light but also an evening air which made him shiver. Looking down, he saw that no one had bothered to pull his kimono up over his shoulders and that his torso was bare.

Even without being able to turn around to look through, Seokjin knew instantly that they had cast off and returned to sea. He smelled the familiar smells of the sea and rotting seaweed. Around him, the ship rocked, although more lightly than on the other ships thanks to its immense wingspan. Desperate, he understood that they were on their way to implement the dark plan that Kaïto had in mind, a plan of which Seokjin had unwillingly become the centerpiece.

He winced in pain as he tried to move a little. His ankle, injured by the ronin's arrowhead at the sanctuary of Ryujin and which he had continued to ignore in his mad rush to escape Japan, had not been treated and was causing him excruciating pain. It was the same for the wound on his head which throbbed terribly where he had been hit and which Yusuke had spent time abusing. The blood had dried on his hair which had become sticky.

He remembered clearly how he had gotten into this situation and wanted to scream in frustration  but his voice came out muffled, while making him feel like he was ripping chunks out of his windpipe and he realized that he was still gagged. 

The pain made his eyes water and he wouldn't have had trouble letting his tears fall if he hadn't heard the sound of metal scraping the floor. Someone was approaching him slowly, very slowly, announcing their presence by the metal scraping the ground: a weapon? He stood on his guard, waiting for the person to finally appear before his eyes, knowing that, hampered as he was, he could do nothing to defend himself.

After a while, a man finally stopped in front of his cell and looked at him. Seokjin tensed, wary, but saw that the man was armed only with a wooden bucket and a broom, as if he was only there to clean. But if anyone was going to be washed, Seokjin thought, it was this man. Indeed, the body odor he gave off was absolutely nauseating, Seokjin could smell it even without being very close to him.

"Ah, you're finally awake," the man remarked in the Joseon language.

Seokjin widened his eyes. He was not Japanese, he realized. He was thin and shabbily dressed, and his emaciated face, framed by long, dull, dirty hair and beard, had the familiar features of Joseon men. He was so pale that he looked like he didn't see the sun very often. Surprising for a pirate who spent his life at sea. Seokjin frowned. Kaïto despised Jungkook's crew because there were Joseon and Mings among his men while he, himself, had them among his crew? 

Looking down, he saw that the man was dragging a heavy metal ball and chain to one of his ankles which was covered in recent old gashes that were unable to heal due to their burden to pull. This was what he pulled on the ground and which signaled his presence long before his arrival. Seokjin wondered if Kaïto was kidnapping men from Joseon to serve him and spare his samurai from dirty jobs like cleaning, because that was the impression this poor man with a broom gave him.

"I have permission to give you some water but if you try anything, they will dismember me and they will do the same to you, except that they will make sure to leave you alive a little longer," the man said to Seokjin as a warning.

He didn't seem to want to be the victim of a stranger's attitude so Seokjin, who was thirsty and needed to put out the fire in his throat, nodded weakly, not being able to respond with words.

The other searched his face suspiciously, to see if he was lying, but he finally nodded too and left, taking his ball and chain with him. When he returned, he no longer had a broom but a set of keys and a bucket filled with water and a wooden ladle. Seokjin suspected it was the same bucket the Joseon man had cleaned with and prayed he had changed the water.

When he had opened the grate, taking care not to cut himself with its sharp edges, the man painfully entered the cramped space and placed the bucket in front of Seokjin who could see with relief that the water was clear. The other then knelt down and, indicating the gag which obstructed Seokjin's mouth, he warned him:

"I'm going to take it off so you can drink, but then I'll put it back on."

Again Seokjin nodded and was relieved when, loosened, the gag finally left his mouth to fall limply on his throat. At that moment, he no longer thought at all about cutting his tongue, he would have been incapable of it because the urgency to live was too powerful. He opened his mouth impatiently, waiting for the other to approach a ladle of water which he drank greedily, with so much eagerness that he spat a good portion of it onto the man in front of him when he coughed.

"Easy," the man advised him.

He didn't blame Seokjin for spitting on him and dipped the ladle back into the bucket before returning it to Seokjin's lips who, this time, drank with less eagerness. He drank several ladles of water and when he felt thirsty, he sighed gratefully:

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I'm only prolonging your torture," the other replied. "I heard you were going to die soon."

Seokjin was bothered by the water running down his chin but unable to wipe it off with his hands so he tried to wipe it on his chest. When it was done, he looked up at the man who was staring at him and gave him a half smile to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I'm in a bad situation, aren't I?" Seokjin said without managing to wring a smile from this emaciated man. "Can you put some water on my wounds? It won't save me from death but I would be grateful to you."

He pointed out his ankle wound first, then the wound on the back of his head as well as the bruises on his face where Kazuki had hit him. Wherever the cool water flowed, he felt his pain ease a little and groaned in relief. He even got the man to pull his kimono up over his shoulders, and he felt a little less exposed.

When the other raised his hands and pretended to want to put his gag back on, Seokjin moved his head back as far as possible and quickly said:

"No, please, wait!"

The man lowered his hands, a little annoyed. 

 "What is it? Hurry up, I can't stay here too long or they'll think I'm helping you escape."

Which he obviously didn't intend to do. Despite the man's impatience, Seokjin asked hopefully:

"Since I'm going to die, can I ask you for a favor?"

"No. I can't help you, I barely survive submitting to the wakos," the other retorted in a low voice, looking around to make sure no one was coming.

"But if you managed to escape-" Seokjin began, wanting to ask him to give one last message to his family.

"That's not going to happen," the Joseon cut him off sharply. "I have been a prisoner of this ship for fifteen years."

"Fifteen years?!" Seokjin stunned repeated. Despite his beard and his hollow features, the man was not old, he must have been very young when he was captured. "You didn't manage to escape all this time?"

"I didn't try. But I've seen others try it. My friends," the other replied in a harsh tone. "They were all barbarously killed before my eyes and I swore never to follow them. I belong to this ship now and I won't try to run away, so don't ask me anything."

He seemed alarmed and Seokjin, afraid that he would refuse to approach him in the future, hastened to say to him:

"I'm sorry, I won't ask you to help me anymore. And I'm sorry about your friends, they didn't deserve this." 

The Joseon seemed to calm down but didn't answer anything, so Seokjin spoke again:

"Can I ask what your name is and where you're from? If I manage to escape, I will go see your family and tell them you are alive."

"You are very optimistic, I don't think you will manage to escape." 

"Optimistic is my middle name," Seokjin joked. "Either way, you have nothing to lose by telling me, right?"

"I no longer have anyone to go home to, the only family I had was my friends but they all died, either in Joseon fifteen years ago or after, on this ship. It's just me now. You probably won't find anyone who remembers me or wants to. I was just a good-for-nothing, even back then, one of his guys that people don't care to think is dead."

"It's not true, there must be someone who-"

"No. No one." 

Although he said it harshly, his eyes were infinitely sad. Again, Seokjin thought he saw a certain familiarity there, as if he knew those eyes. He looked at him with doubt, wondering if there was more to this feeling of familiarity he was feeling than just being a Joseon like himself. Could the resemblance of their past only be a coincidence? He asked slowly:

"Where were you and your friends captured?"

"In Eobu, the first town that was attacked during the new era of the wakos and which became the symbol of their return. You definitely know it if you come from Joseon."

Seokjin widened his eyes. 

"You are from Eobu?!"

"Yes." 

There was no longer room for doubt, they were from the same city. So Seokjin asked carefully, in order to dispel any doubt:

"By any chance, are you... Ihnkyang, Sanghoon's best friend?"

The other looked at him in amazement, like he hadn't heard anyone say those names in years.

"I am! Who the hell are you?!"

Stunned by this encounter that he never imagined he would have - especially here - and thinking of the joy his vice-admiral would have felt if he had been able to be there with him, Seokjin smiled.

"I'm from Eobu too. I'm Kim Seokjin, but that's not what you and your friends called me. You were calling me-"

"Little admiral..." Ihnkyang cut him off under his breath.