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CHAPTER TWELVE: FORMOSA
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Mizu stared begrudgingly at her wide-brimmed hat. Although it was a light article of clothing, today it felt so heavy. She held it between her hands, knowing every subtle curve, indent, minor tear, and feel of its material by memory. Even though it had been months of seafaring since she'd worn it, she knew it well.
Her tinted, circular glasses sat on the wooden desk of her captain's lodging. When she wore them, the world always had a yellow tint to her, like sepia. Looking towards the world, but not really.
Back to this, then.
It was nice being without disguises and barriers on this ship. Her hat and glasses were like a shadow, but inside of following her, it covered her. Mizu was her own shadow.
She had a knot of sadness deep in her throat that she struggled to keep down. Life on the ship... even though she still had months to go for England... even though she'd only be in Formosa for a few hours...
Hell, even though pirates tried to kill her and Fowler would too if he had the slightest chance.
Life at sea was one where she didn't have to be her own shadow, but to feel the sun on her skin and hair and even behold it with her bare eyes.
She put them on ceremoniously.
When they were nearly docking, Sogo found Mizu by the bowsprit, staring into the beautiful pink and blue sky which to her was colored over in sepia.
Formosa. Under Dutch Control. The flag of the Netherlands blew proudly in the distance.
Mizu tilted her head, hearing the woman's footsteps. She became accustomed to looking forward to her presence. Her steps. Her voice. Though realizing it much too late.
The tender forehead kiss she gave her last night still lingered on her lips.
"M-Mizu!" Sogo took in the sight with flushed cheeks. She'd only seen Mizu in a casual, comfortable kimono with light trousers for sea work. But now, she was in her full cloak, wide, full-length samurai pants that fit her lean body, and dark boots. The way her cloak draped over her shoulders made them look broader than they already were.
Sogo remembered when Mizu found her in the water, and she covered her in that same cloak. It shared their bodies now, and that thought made her heart thump.
Also... her eyes. In those mysterious, circular, gorgeous tinted glasses. The hat gave her an air of intrigue, of power, of a masculine demeanor born men could never match. Her hair, long as it was, was tied back without a strand out of place. Altogether, Mizu was...
"... so handsome," Sogo muttered, enchanted and wholly taken by her appearance. "Mizu, you are... so beautiful."
The samurai lowered her gaze, and in doing so her wide-brimmed hat covered her eyes.
Instinctively, Sogo reached out, bringing her chin back up to see those beautiful spheres again. "Don't hide your gaze."
Mizu's steel blue eyes fell on Sogo's hand on her face. They trailed up her wrist. Those bite marks were still there. They layered over each other, old and new, like red kisses.
Deflecting, she found a bit of sardonic humor. "Funny. The last person who told me those words... tried to poison me."
Sogo's brows pulled together at her words. She shook her head, trailing her hand up further Mizu's cheek until it reached her ears. The samurai's eyes widened at her face being caressed so lovingly, like she was not a strong swordsman at all, but a delicate child.
"Mizu... I would never hurt you."
Those words outweighed her touch. Mizu's brows knitted together as if wanting to believe her. A tender part of her that wanted to trust again. Her desire to fall into her feminine side suffocated under the burden of being a man.
Some things, Mizu thought, are too risky to attempt again.
"Don't you believe me?" Sogo whispered, concerned by Mizu's silence. She always wondered what was going on in her mind. The samurai was incredibly hard to read. She admired the stoicness but was also so so frustrated and anxious because of it.
"...I believe that you believe it," Mizu answered, turning her cheek away as Sogo's hand fell from it.
"No!" Sogo grabbed her face, turning her back to hers with a firm grip. "What kind of an answer is that?! I—If this is our last day together, th—then I can't let us part without you fully understanding my heart. I would never hurt—"
Mizu slapped her hands away. In an instant, both her wrists were held together in her right clenching hand, peering out from her samurai cloak.
She glared down at Sogo. Her icy blue eyes were silver like bullets in those yellow lenses.
"Don't forget yourself," Mizu hissed, speaking clearly. "I am not yours. You are not mine. We split the bounty and go our separate ways."
Her grip turned Sogo's wrists, and she leered over her closer. She was in full control of her with just one hand. Sogo had forgotten just how strong Mizu was when she wanted to be.
"Is that clear?" Although framed as a question, it was much more of an order, calling for her submission.
Sogo furrowed her brows, saying nothing. After a moment of stubborn silence, Mizu released her wrists and walked away.
S-so mean, she thought, holding back her tears. It was a mixture of anger and sadness. Injured pride and an unwavering heart.
Mizu... you really are so mean.
*
Formosa was a beautiful island, and the scorching August sun put all the Dutch settlers, Asian traders, and native citizens in short, colorful, wind-catching clothing. They looked like butterflies prancing around the dynamic beach bustling with trade. The island was a melting pot of East Asian and European cultures combined.
When Mizu tied her ship to the dock, she noticed just how many other sailors were there, too. She felt calm knowing she gagged Fowler earlier that morning, well before the sun rose.
It's for your own good. You're a wanted man by the shogunate, you know. If you start screaming, who knows if the Dutch will hand you in to profit off the bounty?
When Fowler's harrowing eyes became more incensed with her, she simply smiled.
Be happy. You're getting opium. A white man's favorite.
He, with Mizu's katana on his throat, abided. His hands and feet were tied, too. He couldn't be trusted to not have another episode of madness. Not even by himself.
"Excuse me, sir," Mizu said, addressing a man who appeared Asian like her. "I'm looking for the central office of the authorities here. Which direction?"
"Wat zei jij?" The fisherman replied in straight Dutch.
Mizu's brows shot up, caught off-guard by how his language didn't match her preconceived notions. She never met an Asian person who exclusively spoke one of the European languages. It was like she entered the twilight zone.
...Huh.
Bizarre.
Beside her, Sogo stubbornly stood with her arms crossed. The beach was beautiful, and the summer sun melted her lovely eyes into a creamy caramel. But contradicting such a gorgeous environment was her sour mood over Mizu snapping at her that morning.
Stupid Mizu.... so mean.
The samurai had to think fast. She figured maybe the sailor was familiar with English (besides, didn't all Europeans know English..?), and she did her very best at trying. She had been learning on her own through books in the ship's library.
Here goes nothing.
"... boat-man... bad... kill... money now... dead... um... for dutch."
The man stared at her in complete confusion, awestruck, and not understanding a damn word of what she was getting at (or if she even knew herself.)
Mortified, Mizu turned her head as she cringed in embarrassment. Her brimmed hat concealed her face, and she moved on, walking quickly.
Amazed, Sogo excitedly caught up beside her and stayed with her every step of the way. "WOW!!! You speak ENGLISH?!! That was AMAZING!"
Mizu's face went bright red. Her glasses fogged up at how embarrassing the whole thing was, and her skin was burning.
"Wh—why are you walking so fast?! Is this the direction he told you to go?"
Groan. "Yep... this way."
"WOW!"
The deeper they walked into town, the more and more people there were, like a traffic jam of individuals squeezing into a tiny area. Their garments and silk dresses were stunningly colorful, just like those of the few people they saw on the dock. They wore flattering yellows, pinks, greens, lilacs, and soft blues. It was an explosion of color.
Live outdoor music came from a man playing a traditional yueqin, and beside him was his wife singing of love, fertility, and virtue. She wore a captivating bright red Hanfu dress. Its robe flowed elegantly down to the floor, and her lips were painted just as strikingly rouge. A goddess of love.
Because of the island's geographical placement, it was a melting pot of cultures. The blending of East Asian cultures and languages came together, and many times the people would observe holidays from both Japan and China (as well as those of the Dutch.)
Above her was a banner in Mandarin written with an ink brush. Sogo tilted her head, unable to understand the words right away, but still trying its characters. "...qi...xi.... fest—i—val..."
Mizu lifted her brow as Sogo's reading took her out of scanning the area. "You understand the Chinese tongue?"
"Ah..!" she was embarrassed and put a hand to her cheek. "N-no, I'm only a bit familiar."
"How?"
Pause. Feet shuffling. "My fiancé followed nautical guides of several languages. Briefly, I studied Mandarin with him."
Mizu stared at her quietly. They were in a crowd of people circling the woman's beautiful performance. With all their colors, the two women stuck out so plainly.
...Him again.
"Then," Mizu spoke, ending the silence as Sogo could not look her in the eye. "What does the banner say?"
"Umm... well... I-I don't need to fully understand the banner to be familiar with its festivities."
The topic of this particular festivity made her flustered. It became more and more apparent when they walked further into the community, and when she heard the woman's passionate song, she could pick up on the storyline of the famous folklore. The Chinese mythology of a love so powerful it transcended the heavens and to this day lives forever in the stars.
"I am not familiar. What's happening here, Sogo?" Mizu asked. Anything could help.
The woman had butterflies in her stomach. "It's the seventh day of the seventh lunar month... the Qixi festival... a celebration of love."
人魚 。