Chapter Text
When Makoto was five, he used to look forward to waking up in the morning, playing by the seashore with the other kids. It used to be empty back then. The coastal fishing harbor was still a modest little dock by the edge of the sea, constructed merely with delicate wood that was trashed by the woodcutters as rejects. The docks and piers were made by two brothers who thought it was a good idea to create an area where fisherfolk would gather and trade.
After a few short years, the dock transformed into a large fishing port. The marketplace was built and suddenly the coast became a bustling village. Large-scale fishing vessels became common. He could even remember the first time his father bought a gillnet for catching crabs.
He didn’t know when he started fearing the ocean. As a kid, he first thought the horizon where the sky and sea would meet was the edge of the world. That it ended there. He thought the ocean was shallow, that there was nothing but crabs and tuna underneath all the blue. Then he grew up, and soon realized the horizon wasn’t the end, and that it further accentuated the eternal aspect of the ocean.
Makoto was ten when he first rode a fishing boat. It was the small kind, where only three men and one setnet could fit. They didn’t sail very far, and Makoto could still see Iwatobi from afar. But all he remembered was the he cried, because he was scared, and that he needed to go back to land. Being surrounded by so much water caused Makoto to have a mild panic attack. His father had to rush back to the docks. That was when he started thinking that the waters weren’t safe. And nothing could convince him otherwise.
“Makoto!”
In between the predatory silence, he heard his name being called, a frantic voice bellowed with the ghastly winds of the arresting storm. Makoto heard it, his senses all focused on one thing—hearing. They say the ocean floor was blue, but he had no intentions of finding out if it was true, keeping his eyes shut even when he was conscious. Swinging his arms in panic, Makoto felt it was useless, his body being pulled down by the sea. Carnivorous riptides ate his body immediately after the fishing vessel tipped to its side.
He was drowning.
He couldn’t breathe, the vast waters constricting him. He needed to breathe and go to the surface. But when he opened his reddened eyes, he saw nothing—an empty space of nothing. A realm of abyssal plain and silence. Even though the waves thrashed violently from the surface, beneath it was the opposite. He could barely hear the storm, barely hear anything.
And he was scared to death.
Makoto screamed out loud, but there was no sound, stealing what little oxygen was left inside him and swung his arms and legs in attempt to reel away from the depths of the ocean. He felt a stinging pain in his stomach. Somehow, he still felt as if he didn’t move. The surface seemed so far away, and he wasn’t getting any closer.
He needed to breathe.
And he realized soon after that his flailing had stopped.
That he was sinking.
That his lungs no longer had oxygen to spare.
Instead of air, Makoto had no choice but to inhale water. In the midst of unconsciousness, he felt it incinerate his throat. Despite the icy cold water, he could only feel a burning sensation inside of him.
Then he just let himself sink.
He let himself get slowly devoured by the water. And in some way, it made him feel at ease. He felt entirely at peace. He could see the surface as his heavy body descended.
Makoto didn’t know if he was hallucinating, but before he could shut down completely, he felt a sensation in his skin, like a hand, caressing his cheek. His eyes were closing when he saw another pair of eyes in front of him, strings and ribbons of silk flowing in the background.
Finally, every inch of his consciousness faded away.
The waves were singing at their usual peaceful pace when Makoto woke up.
His first thought was, “Am I dead?”
The uncomfortable bed he laid on convinced him that he wasn’t, that he was still alive somehow. His lips were dried and had hurt when he tried to close it, seeing as his mouth was left ajar all this time he had been laying there.
“Laying where?”
Pebbles, shells, and broken corals pierced his back as he tried to lift his arms. He wanted to cover his face from the blinding sunlight. Even with eyes closed, the light was still blinding.
Makoto opened his green eyes.
He groaned as he hoisted his upper body up with his elbows, which felt numb as he pushed it against the coral sands, leaving sunken marks on his skin.
“Where am I…?” Makoto asked himself, noticing the absence of Iwatobi’s fine white sands. The shore back home was soft and supple to the touch. But the sand here was different.
Surprised that he was still alive, Makoto let his senses kick in. He looked down. There was a red patch on his kimono. It made him panic all of a sudden, thinking he was hurt and gushing out blood, but when he checked, there was nothing. It felt strange somehow. Because he knew he hit something on that boat before he drowned.
Right, he drowned.
It took several more seconds for Makoto to take it all in. He remembered drowning. All of it. He even remembered the vivid blue eyes that he saw underwater. They were glowing somehow, the eyes. Thinking about it, he himself couldn’t believe it. He swore he saw a tail—a big one, along with beautiful ribbons of translucence appended to it.
It wasn’t human, nor a sea creature, nor anything he had ever seen in his life. Makoto was on the brink of dying during that time, but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t think the ningyo he had seen was beautiful.
“It saved me…” Makoto breathed out in disbelief. He was sprouting nonsense. Maybe he hit his head on a rock or something. There was no other explanation. He was sinking. He should be dead by now. But there he was lying on the sand on some unknown cove with no injuries whatsoever, like he had just woken up from a nap.
He stood up and realized he felt perfectly fine. Nothing was hurting, or aching, or anything. It seemed like he hadn’t drowned at all.
Makoto finally gave the surroundings some attention. In front of him was a wide shore constricted by ragged landforms. The shore formed a crescent moon shape, creating a cove of teal and green.
Placing a hand over to his stomach where an injury was supposed to be, Makoto ran towards the shore. He stopped when his feet touched the water, panting as he shouted towards the sea.
“Thank you!” He yelled from the top of his lungs, hands on the sides of his mouth to amplify his words. Softer this time, Makoto repeated, “Thank you for saving me.”
He waited for a minute, but there wasn’t any movement in the waters. Letting out a sigh, he turned away dejectedly. Who was he kidding? Ningyos weren’t real. And just because his wound magically healed didn’t mean ningyos were the culprit.
Just then, along with the calm melodies of the sea, he heard a loud splash behind him. Makoto twirled in a hurry and jogged further into the beach. He heard it. He definitely heard it. Something jumped out of the water.
His knees reached the ocean. And he waited—longer than before. But again nothing came up. Makoto breathed in before sighing audibly. He scanned the ocean again with desperate eyes. “Did I miss it?”
Just when he thought he did, he saw a flicker of light from afar, the sun reflecting on something pearlescent. Even though he almost drowned last night, Makoto’s fear of the ocean seemed non-existent, as he splashed through the turquoise waters.
Makoto was waist-deep into the ocean when he saw a figure swim right past him.
“Wait!” Makoto pleaded. It was so fast it came almost as a blur. He decided to stop moving so the water would calm. When it was clear enough for him to see beneath him, Makoto’s eyes widened in awe.
Someone was circling him from below. And Makoto was frozen to the spot. Somehow he wasn’t scared. There was some sort of security in that cove.
Makoto watched as a head of dark locks emerged from the water. He looked at the creature like magic. He was surprised. The stories were all wrong. They didn’t have head like monkeys, or sharp teeth, or scaly faces. Now he knew for sure, that ningyos were breathtakingly beautiful.
Blue eyes stared at him curiously, as if he was the strange one.
Makoto was at loss for words. He just felt so mesmerized that he considered himself already under the spell of the ningyo’s so-called magic. And maybe he didn’t care that he was under a spell.
Even though the ningyo was male, he couldn’t help his heart beating faster. It might be out of nervousness or wonder. But he couldn’t deny he was somehow drawn to this fabled creature.
“Um…” Makoto started. He couldn’t find the words to say. The ningyo just blinked at him. And he appreciated that the creature was nice enough to wait for him to continue. “T-Thank you… I—”
Then, the tailed young man jumped at him and grabbed his shoulders, causing him to lose his balance and fall underwater. Makoto frantically went back up the surface and looked around.
The ningyo was gone.