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A child of the sea cannot touch the skies.
A child of the sea can breach the surface of the water, drink in the air, see the waves lap on the shore and peer upon the creatures that walk on soil, but a child of the sea can never hope to walk upon it. They cannot stand on the shores and try to touch the clouds high above the water.
Dazai Osamu did not desire to touch the skies, he swam in listless fugue of a life that had no meaning and looked for entertainment where he could. If there was nothing in the ocean that would finally end his life or give him meaning at last, he would look to the surface and find his fleeting moments of enjoyment where he could. Dazai always found the humans so curious, if infantile but amusing, creatures. He watched them from beneath the waves, hidden behind rocks and boulders while the sirens sang sweetly for sailors, fingers around their necks, and kissed them on the mouth before dragging them to the depths.
Dazai saw humans as little more than stumbling pink shrimp on shores that were too hot, but even he could not shake his curiosity when Atsushi took interest in a young human man of his own.
He hadn’t seen anything noteworthy about the man beyond being a prince on land (a title that would bring him nothing beneath the sea), but after finding Atsushi hiding behind rocks near the beach below a frigid castle, cheeks flushed and expression wide-eyed and intrigued, he wondered.
What could possibly be so interesting about humans?
It was partly out of his own curiosity, bemusement and a well-hidden care for his fellow merman that drew Dazai to mimic his friend’s voice one night, finding the mortal man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a face that never seemed to smile. Much like the siren songs, his voice drew the mortal to him, searching for that mysterious creature with a tail the colors of the sunset that listened to him read aloud, who was always just out of eyesight whenever he tried to get the merman to talk to him, to see that he wouldn’t hurt him-- the human prince waded closer and closer into the water, beckoning with a hoarse, raspy voice that the merman show himself.
Dazai smiled when a wave crashed over the mortal prince and pulled him under.
His smile was gone when Atsushi came back from rescuing his human prince, lingering on the beach and touching each other’s faces before sunrise, his eyes bright and afire with an anger he’d never seen before on his friend’s lovely face.
“ Don’t you ever do something so dangerous to Ryuu again! ”
He was left agape when Atsushi swam away in a fury, back towards the surface and the prince that lived there. Dazai hadn’t understood; fraternizing with mortals never ended well for their kind. At best, they would become curiosities in a traveling show. At worst, their scales ripped off of their tails and their flesh shorn off to be sold underneath tables in the black market.
Why didn’t Atsushi understand that he was trying to protect him from getting hurt?
But his dear friend was stubborn and would do as he wished, and there was little else Dazai could do to stop him. When his ill-fated dalliance with the human prince came to an end, he would return to where he belonged; deep below the sea where no human could ever hope to go.
There was no escape from the darkness of the depths of the ocean, Dazai learned of that long ago.
It was the flash of a deep red out of the corner of his eye that drew Dazai to push himself up further along the surface of the water.
Red hair stuck to his forehead and neck as the man hoisted himself out of the water and onto the modest boat. He had a skewer in his hand, a still flapping sweetfish speared through the blade. The waves jostled underneath the moving boat as the man slid the fish off and dropped it into a basket. He wiped off his wet forehead and pushed his damp hair back.
Dazai watched in mute wonder as the water trickled off of lean muscles as the man stood up on the boat, spear in hand. He looked over the water, searching for another catch to finish the day’s work. The water rippled and lapped around him gently as Dazai swam closer for a better look, lips just beneath the surface of the water.
His hair was an even darker color than Chuuya’s. The siren’s hair was the color of sun coral.
Dazai had never seen such a dark red shade before in his life. It was captivating.
Facing the man’s back, Dazai stayed low in the water as he watched the human man lower down to sit, admiring the lithe plane of his back. He wondered how much larger the man was if they were next to one another. His legs seemed so long ..
Atsushi had been too shy to approach his prince those first two months they swam about each other, always diving just out of sight before the human prince that he’d called Ryuu could reach for him, to implore him to speak to him. If not for Dazai’s intervention, he was doubtful that they would’ve spoken to each other at all anytime soon.
Dazai was not so shy.
Hoisting himself up onto the side of the boat to rest his elbows on the edge, Dazai perched his chin on top of his forearm and stared at the man’s back as he began to write in a little notebook. Mid-sentence, the man stilled and slowly looked over his shoulder.
What a lovely shade of blue.
Dazai smiled brightly at the human man when blue gray eyes met his own.
In silence, the waves lapped gently against the sides of the boat as the young man stared at the creature from the sea, the beautiful man who came out of nowhere, with brown hair that curled against his face and hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. The man blinked slowly, looking Dazai up and down, then glancing around him and the boat. The only sight to him was the endless sea and the shore a five minute sail away.
Dazai tilted his head and pressed his cheek on his elbow, eyes narrowing with playfulness when the man cleared his throat.
“...I’ve either drunk far too much saltwater and hallucinating, or you’re some kind of siren.”
His low baritone tingled in Dazai’s ears, an odd, unusual shudder rushing down his spine; a pleasurable sensation.
He laughed. “A siren? I? Oh no, I’m most certainly not a siren, though I can sing much like they can, it seems to tempt sailors either way.”
“Ah,” he intoned. “I see. You’re rather sure of yourself, aren’t you.”
Dazai’s smile broadened and he lifted himself up higher, hands clinging to the side of the boat as he pushed himself out of the water, enough for his dark green scales to shimmer in the daylight. He watched the man’s eyes lower to his bottom half, the sliver that he could see, and Dazai delighted in the subtle widening of his eyes. Seaweed entwined with pearls clung to his arms and abdomen, creating a choker around his neck.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been desired by many, after all.”
The man made a noise in the back of his throat, something like a laugh that huffed out of his nose, and Dazai’s grin stretched across his lips.
“I’m Dazai Osamu, and who might your be? Are you also a man of royal blood? You’re certainly handsome enough, for a human , to be one.”
The man raised a single dark red brow, snorting quietly. “I’m hardly royal in any way-- I’m but a simple fisherman.”
With his broad shoulders and tall stature, Dazai certainly thought himself fitting to be a prince himself. Keeping himself held up on the side of the boat, he leaned forward. His pulse raced, such a foreign feeling of excitement and thrill rushing through him, when the man began to lean closer.
“No? Hm.. well, no matter I suppose. Though…” He murmured, eyes lazy and half-lidded, “You’ve still not told me your name, when I’ve told you my own.”
His heart thrummed when the man came closer, eyes lowering to the bright green scales. The spear had been abandoned by the other side of the boat, fallen out of his hand.
“..Oda Sakunosuke,” he breathed.
After a hesitant beat, Dazai lifted a hand off of the side of the boat and pressed his palm to the side of the man’s--- Sakunosuke’s --- face.
His skin was not smooth, hairs lightly scratching at his skin against his jaw and chin. A faint stubble, but strong and angular. His skin was so warm.
His skin hummed with life and warmth.
Dazai wanted to melt into it.
He was filled with a want he’d never felt before.
“How wonderful to meet you, Sakunosuke.”
To the surface, Dazai came more and more, breaking the water to see a head of red hair and gray blue eyes, like the sea in a tempest, boring into him. By Sakunosuke’s boat, on a rock or boulder they both sat upon, or the wet sand licked by the waves, they would sit together and Sakunosuke would read to him the stories he wrote. He told Dazai of the children he cared for and Dazai told Sakunosuke of the depths of the sea, of Atsushi and his prince (he’d burst into laughter when Sakunosuke choked on his drink upon learning that the prince Atsushi was besotted with was the same prince whose kingdom Sakunosuke lived in), of the fish deep within the sea and the beautiful things to be found at the bottom.
But the stories Dazai craved most were those of Sakunosuke himself; his life, the places he’d been, the things that he didn’t say that Dazai desired to know about most-- he wanted to know everything about Oda Sakunosuke and his life.
He wanted to be with Sakunosuke as much as possible.
If Atsushi knew, surely he would laugh at him and rejoice in Dazai’s hypocrisy. If he knew, he said not a word.
Dazai would begin to swim away from the underwater village they lived in, away from the oppressive eyes of the king who claimed Dazai as his adoptive son and away from Atsushi’s stare after him, silent but understanding. Then, Atsushi would swim to the surface, Dazai would do the same, and they would go their separate ways. When they returned by sundown, the waters dark blue and thick with shadow, they would exchange no words.
Both knew where the other had gone.
Returning to the sea was growing more difficult by the day.
Under the sunset, Odasaku’s face cradled in his hands damp with salt water, Dazai pressed his lips to Odasaku’s, fitting perfectly over one another, and Dazai tasted whiskey and nicotine on his tongue. He loved it.
As Odasaku scrambled to hold onto him, his tail nearly sliding out of the human’s lap, their kiss deepened and Dazai wanted to know no other taste but this. Through the seaweed that clung to his body, he felt Odasaku’s firm body and a heat twisted in his gut.
I don’t want to go back-- I want to stay here.
I want to stay .
With him.
Dazai had only known the emptiness and darkness of the sea, and it’d seeped into his very body. No matter where he looked, no matter the cherished bond he had with the orphaned Atsushi, there was no meaning in those depths. There was nothing for him there. He was nothing.
Down there, Dazai Osamu was nothing .
But, up here--
Odasaku’s fingers tangled in Dazai’s curled strands, their noses brushing against each other as they caught their breath. The tip of Dazai’s tail brushed against the surface of the water, placed between Odasaku’s legs, and he frowned at it.
“..It’s dark out,” Odasaku murmured. “You’re usually gone by now.”
Dazai hummed. “I am, aren’t I?”
He made no move to leave. Instead of leaping back into the water, Dazai pressed his forehead against Odasaku’s collarbone. He breathed in his scent, closing his eyes. He smelled like burning wood and a hint of cinnamon.
Odasaku’s fingertips grazed against the nape of his neck. “When are you coming back?”
Dazai smiled into his collarbone. “Tomorrow.”
“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Dazai murmured, “You will.”
His parting kiss lingering and sweet, tasting like faint whiskey, Dazai dove back beneath the waves, his decision made.
He didn’t return home that night.
That place wasn’t his home anymore. It’d never been a home.
What are you willing to give up? The creature from the depths asked, eyes glowing purple as ink curled and twisted around him.
Anything.
Then, give me your voice.
Without hesitation, Dazai parted his lips.
The blood faded into the dark water in a cloud.
Sakura woke Odasaku that morning, shaking him awake and shouting, “Odasaku! Odasaku! There’s a man on the shore! I think he’s dead!”
The children waited and watched on the front porch of their modest little cottage, looking on with wide eyes as Odasaku rushed down to the beach just outside their door, feet bare. In the purple light of dawn, coated with seaweed, an unconscious man with dark brown hair and long, lean and naked legs laid on the wet sand, the tide licking at his toes. Covering the man with coat, Odasaku turned him over onto his back and pressed both palms against his chest, over and over again. He gathered the man in his arms when he turned over and coughed out water, rubbing at his throat and mouth. Tucking an arm beneath his knees and one around his back, Odasaku lifted him up.
Slowly, the man stirred awake and opened his eyes.
Blue eyes widened, breath hitching.
“ Dazai? ”
Raising a tired, shaky hand to Odasaku’s cheek, Dazai smiled.
No one knew where the mysterious man with a foxlike smile who never said a word came from. His skin pale, hair dark and curled around his face beautifully, he was like an ethereal ghost that appeared out of thin air. Wherever he walked, he seemed to carry the sea breeze with him on his heels. Though he said not a word, could not say a word, they were not necessary when Osamu’s fingers intertwined so perfectly with Sakunosuke’s.
He used his fingers to speak for him, parting his lips to mouth words he could never again say, never again sing, and it mattered none to him.
On warm summer days, the children played and splashed about in the waves on the beach, and Osamu let their kisses speak everything they needed to say between them.
The children asleep and word of a young man with the most unusual silver hair now being the beau of the young prince having spread to even their modest home, Osamu contented himself with Sakunosuke’s warmth, their bare bodies pressed against each other and their legs entangled. Sakunosuke’s fingers dragged along the curve of his spine and Osamu nuzzled into his firm chest.
“Do you regret it?” Sakunosuke whispered into his hair.
There was a pause, and then Osamu lifted his hand.
Into his chest, Osamu wrote a single word;
Never.