Why Pirates Hate Water

The trip had been mostly smooth sailing for the first week, but when the second week hit, it was utter chaos. Most of the crew had found themselves ill with a sickness that must have been picked up in Musutafu. Izuku, however, was hard at work. He couldn't get sick, so he had to tough it out and do all of the work. By most of the crew being sick, that means all but Izuku.

He had labored tirelessly day after day. He had to take most of the night shifts to keep the rudder on track, check the maps, main the sails, and keep the ship in tip-top shape. He rarely ever slept, and it was clearly taking a toll on him. The crew noticed, but couldn't do much to help other than try not to look as Izuku paced around, his eyes sunken in, and his brain stressed. There was only about a week or two left in the trip, but no one knew when the sickness would end. It could have been a plague that was sure to kill them all or the common flu.

Either way, Izuku also had to add 'taking care of sick pirates' to his to-do list. He constantly checked their temperatures and laid cool towels on their heads. He brought them every meal that he had to cook himself, even though he was an awful cook he could make some decent soup.

Izuku huffed at the familiar sound of a bell coming from the lower layer of the ship. He set down the map, laying a paperweight on top of it. He quickly sped down the stairs to the captains quarters, scared that any moment they could all start dropping like flies.

He was met with crimson eyes, contrasting on the pale skin slick with sweat. Katsuki's normal furrow of his brows was absent and instead a pained expression in his eyes, and a soft gaze replaced it.

"What's wrong?" Izuku asked, placing himself by the side of Katsuki's bed. He was cautiously quiet so he wouldn't wake Shoto, who was sound asleep on a cot on the other side of the room.

Katsuki didn't say anything with his raw and tired throat, just motioned a cupped hand up to his mouth. Izuku chuckled, grabbing a cold glass of water from the small cooler by his desk. He helped raise the glass to Katsuki's lips, only now noticing how truly sickly looking he had become. Was this how he was going to find the treasure, alone because all of his friends died on the way? No. He was going to do everything he could.

It was then that he decided that they would need to make another pit stop. It was the only thing he could think of at the moment, but it was surely not a good idea.

He didn't bother to tell Katsuki or the crew. He simply turned the large wheel ever so slightly, following his new path on the map. He knew the legend by heart.

"The myth tells of a young lad who will grant the wish of anyone who can defeat him and remove him from his throne. He is not a God, nor a human, so far there in no man who can defeat him."

Izuku replayed the legend in his head. The legend says 'no man', but it's referring to humans. Izuku's not human, and it only says to defeat and not how. It could have additional rules once he arrives, but he would worry about it later. The legend was obviously true, seeing as sirens were real, Gods should be too. Or weird not Gods.

The swamp where the legend is said to be held just happens to only be a days sail from the island of Toshinori's treasure. Izuku wasn't sure about his plan, but he had to do it. To save the crew. To save Katsuki and Shoto. To save himself from unending despair.

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☆We just hit 1k reads! Thank you guys so much, and I'm sorry for the short break. I'm back to writing, and I assure you, this story is going to get really good real soon! Come back next week for the next chapter♡☆