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The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever. - Jacques Cousteau

The first time Kishibe Rohan laid eyes on the ocean, he felt as if something was calling to him. He had never been the type to wax that particular shade of poetic- not unless true inspiration hit- but as a young Rohan gazed out into the endless expanse of ink-dark water tucked away in the bay of his hometown, he knew it was a sight that would call him back someday. 

Many, many summers of his early childhood had been spent at that bay, perched on the rocky outcrops that rose either side of the beach. Close enough to taste the salt in the spray of the waves crashing against the jagged peak of an outcrop, it was there that he had recorded many of his first research notes- a practice that would eventually form the basis for his lifelong case study of reality.

One might think such an insatiable appetite for information rather bizarre, a means of catharsis humoured by only the deranged, but to Kishibe Rohan, indulging in his innate curiosity was essential to both his craft and his soul. For as long as he could remember, Rohan had always hungered for what was real and raw. And what better way to sate this particular craving of his than to understand- and then actively manipulate- reality. 

Thus had begun the earliest of Rohan’s explorations into life, which took form in field sketches- reverently pencilled into note paper dampened by sea spray- or hastily-scrawled notes jotted down in leather-bound notebooks that he had never fully been able to rid of the last granules of sand.

Over many summers, Kishibe Rohan had learned well and true that though the ocean was lovely, it was equal parts dangerous; an entity equally as likely to devastate as it was to shelter. Equal parts fear and fascination gripped him at the thought of it. 

Though he had left the little Japanese seaside town many, many years ago, Rohan was gripped no less intensely by the same curiosity that had captivated him as a child upon returning to Morioh. He had not returned just for the sake of nostalgia, however, and hated to think his memories of a town past had swayed him over in any way. Besides, Rohan had thought to himself rather haughtily, he had already explored the vast majority of the bay’s secrets.

It was only after fishermen’s tales of strange sightings in and around the bay began to find their way into Rohan’s small social circle that he realised he was dead wrong.

Rohan had forced himself to wait before investigating what could easily turn out to be nothing but a stretch of the imagination. After finishing his latest chapter and having it faxed off along with the rest of his work, he was ahead sufficiently enough to last the next several months. He could afford to indulge himself a little. 

He didn’t fully admit it to himself, but there was more to his interest than objective curiosity. The darkest- and yet faintest- of his nostalgia aligned almost eerily closely with the whispers of the local fishermen. 

The sightings he had overheard stirred long-buried memories of his own- of nets torn apart and washed up on the shore with their catches wholly devoured, of long, jagged scratches dug into the sides of boats, of the sinking feeling that the tiny pinpricks of light intermittently visible over the rocks of the outcrop were staring back at him. 

He had an idea of what he had seen all those years ago, and now was his chance to confirm it.

So eerily similar were the rumours, that he made sure to exercise a great deal of caution as he made his way down to the seaside one overcast winter afternoon. Thankfully, Morioh’s seasonal influx of tourists wasn’t due for many months to come, so Rohan could count on his investigation going mostly undisturbed.

Unfortunately, one of the few downsides to his career as a famous mangaka was the general public’s bothersome tendency to recognise him the few times he did go out. There couldn’t have been many others in his field of choice who walked around in crop tops or earrings or 7000 yen Gucci suede. As such, Rohan had taken care to dress down for the occasion- in a light shawl that covered his shoulders and the lower section of his face, wide-rimmed sunglasses to obscure his rather unique eye colour, a dress shirt that was- almost distastefully- long and loose enough to cover his torso, a cream Panama hat that he thought went rather well with the scarf and his least expensive pair of boater shoes.

Rohan could dress down, but he’d be damned if he didn’t dress down and look good.

From where his motorcycle was parked at the mouth of the bay, the walk to the jagged rocks that rose either side of the beach was short. Rohan had been expecting a much lengthier hike, and his alarming unfamiliarity with the area reminded him that he was far from the child that had once been right at home atop this very peak. Now, he realised with a heavy feeling settling in his chest, he was almost as much of a stranger to this town as the tourists who flocked to it in the summer.

The artist pressed on, and it was only when he reached the peak of the outcrop unharmed that he let his guard down even the slightest bit. Taking the time to properly observe his surroundings had Rohan itching with the urge to draw and note what he saw. Old habits, it seemed, were determined to die hard. And in the matter of seconds it took him to procure a sketchbook, Rohan found himself carefully pencilling in the rocks before him across a hatched backdrop of sea and sky.

So absorbed was Rohan in his work, that he did not notice the overcast sky steadily creeping towards hues of orange and magenta. He had finished a great deal of full-page sketches in the substantial amount of time that had passed, but in doing so had completely neglected his original purpose for coming to the bay- investigation.

Tucking his sketchbook away where it would be safe, Rohan stood, pausing to stretch before stepping out further towards the water. If there was any immediate danger in the area, he would have encountered it by now.

Looking out over the edge, he was faced with churning swell, close enough that when a wave broke and crashed over the rock, the spray fanned outwards and narrowly missed his shoes.

Slightly scandalised, Rohan stepped back from the edge and glared at the water. They may have been his least expensive pair of closed-in shoes, but he wasn’t about to lose them to the water of a bay that had- so far- disappointingly little to offer in the way of his investigation.

Rohan turned, half debating leaving and coming back tomorrow for another sketching session, but then whipped back around in shock.

A flash of something moving in the water startled him out of his displeasure. The something glinted brightly in the fading afternoon sun, but as soon as Rohan properly looked in its direction, it was back underwater.

Rohan now knew two things.

Whatever it was, be it animal or something else entirely, had scales. And whatever it was, the shape he had seen among the waves was incredibly large for a fish.

Emboldened by the fact that he’d managed to come across something, Rohan skidded his way down from the rocks and hit the sand running.

Rohan stopped only a few metres short of the lapping tide, brushing his hair back from where it had fallen into his eyes. He still didn’t know if what he was dealing with was in fact the subject of the rumours or something else entirely, so it was best to keep his distance.

He was almost sure that the creature had moved on and he had been too slow to catch it, but then a shape in the water caught Rohan’s attention. A shape that was not only incredibly close to shore, but moving awfully fast towards him.

He followed it with his eyes as it drew nearer, but stumbled backwards in shock as the body rose out of the water and sent water raining down on him.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, Rohan was pinned to the spot by a dark, looming figure that rose tall among the waves, glowing blue eyes that looked about as cold as the sea itself, and then-

“Oops, sorry about that,” the creature said, a light, apologetic note to its tone as it chuckled sheepishly.

Rohan was both stunned and furious. Fear momentarily forgotten, he marched up to the water’s edge and pointed accusingly in the creature’s direction.

“You better have a very good explanation as to why you just went and ruined a perfectly good pair of deck shoes,” Rohan spat. 

Now that the creature was no longer submerged, the artist could make out deep purple scales, powerful-looking fins, water rolling off layers of rippling muscle…

And wait, was that a pompadour? 

Even if it resembled a young man, what he was looking at definitely wasn’t fully human- that was, if the gills and fins and rows of sharp-looking teeth were anything to go by. 

And it pouted at him, full lips pressing together at it blinked at him as if guilty.

“I don’t usually say hi that way, honest. I saw you sketching up top the rock there, and I guess I got a little excited,” the creature- merman, Rohan had decided- chuckled.

“You aren’t human,” Rohan deadpanned.

Momentary guilt forgotten, it grinned. “Surprise?”

Still dripping from the splash, Rohan sat down, suddenly feeling the compelling urge to clutch his head in utter bewilderment.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you aren’t going to attack me. You had a far better opportunity before.”

Its grin widened. “Ding ding! And I’m gonna go out on a limb of my own and say that you ain’t out to get me, either. You would’ve tried something by now.”

“It figures. I, Kishibe Rohan, encounter a mythical creature, and it manages to get on my nerves within a minute of me knowing of its existence.”

“Rohan, huh? Neat name. You can call me Josuke if you want- all my friends do!" 

What was more baffling than the fact that a mercreature had just appeared before him, or the fact that it spoke his language, or the fact that it hadn’t tried to hurt him-

Was that this thing- Josuke, he supposed- had just attempted to strike up a conversation with him.

Rohan let out a short bark of a laugh. And then another. And then before he knew it he was doubled over on the sand and clutching his sides.

Josuke, the brat, began to nervously chuckle, which soon progressed into him- Rohan was guessing, based on the name- laughing almost as hard as Rohan himself.

“You,” Rohan managed to wheeze, “do not get to laugh with me. And it’s Rohan-sensei to you.”

Josuke’s laughter came to a gradual end, and he shook his head, seemingly amused. He was closer now, the shallow water gently lapping at his sides. His tail waved back and forth almost playfully, and he shifted so that his head was leaning on a hand. Rohan noted that between each of his fingers was webbing not unlike that of many aquatic animals.

“You’re not much of a people person, are you? Wait… sensei? You ain’t a teacher, are you?”

Rohan almost didn’t dignify him with an answer.

“No. To both of your questions. I don’t like to waste my time on anyone uninteresting, which, unfortunately, includes the majority of people.” Rohan stood and brushed the sand off his pants, looking down his nose at the creature before him. “For your information, I happen to be a mangaka… I’m kind of a big deal. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of Pink Dark Boy?”

Josuke frowned, and for once, his expression didn’t hold a trace of the mischievous glint Rohan had so quickly become accustomed to. Eyes trained on the water below, such a doleful expression was incongruous on the creature.

“…Can’t say I have. Never really got a chance to read manga, watch cartoons, any of that stuff. Must be nice.” Josuke’s voice was uncharacteristically small.

There was only one thing that Rohan was worse at dealing with than other people, and that was other people’s emotions. He cast an awkward glance in the merman’s direction, and was about to attempt an extremely uncertain reply before he was interrupted.

“Never mind that though,” Josuke filled the silence with a soft laugh. “Dark Pink Boy, huh? What’s it about?”

This creature truly was utterly unpredictable, and Rohan was equal parts frustrated and fascinated. He let a tiny smile slip past his lips and shook his head.

“Pink Dark Boy. It’s a psychological horror,” he added.

Rather than darting away from him or laughing, as Rohan had half-expected, Josuke’s eyes widened in interest, and he leant in closer.

“Can you- I mean, would I sound weird if I said I wanna hear about it?” he flinched, as if expecting Rohan to snap at him.

“On one condition,” Rohan replied, an idea already formulating in his mind.

Josuke blinked at him. “And what’s that?”

“Tell me about your kind. I’m going to assume you weren’t behind all the rumours I’ve been hearing. There are more of you, aren’t there?”

With a broad grin, Josuke nodded. “Yeah, there are. You’ve got yourself a deal, Rohan-sensei.”

Thus had begun their odd relationship. In exchange for a couple of references- not always for his manga, but it wasn’t like he was about to tell Josuke that- Rohan would tell the merman about his work, as well as various minutiae about the human world. Almost every day, Rohan would find his way down to the same little inlet where they had met with a sketchbook and a pen, and almost every day, Josuke would meet him there with a cheery wave and a smile.

Over the course of the next month, Rohan found himself battling the unexpected and mind-boggling urge to return Josuke’s greetings. Sometimes, he was alarmingly close to feeling excited to see the sleek shape of Josuke moving through the water towards him. And sometimes, when he was feeling a little left of centre from his usual, he would feel a strange tightness in his chest at the sight of the merman’s face as they locked eyes, gentle and radiant and so genuinely enthralled to see that Rohan had returned to fulfil another day of their odd agreement.

Rohan had also managed to learn many other things about Josuke himself.

He was gentle and kind, but could also be greedy and conniving. He was friendly and easy-going at first glance, but unwavering in his conviction to protect those he cared about most. He liked to tease Rohan and rile him up until he was rolling up his pant legs to splash into the shallows after him until he laughed and darted away, but there were also times where he looked at him in a way that was so disarmingly tender than Rohan himself felt hot under the collar.

He had also learnt that while all others of his kind were capable of it, it had been many years since any mercreature had deemed it safe to venture onto land- Josuke included. From his rather outdated hairstyle to his music taste to other peculiar quirks that Rohan had discovered over the course of knowing Josuke, he almost wondered whether the merman was from an era gone by. So he was surprised to learn that Josuke was only four years younger than Rohan himself, who was 22.

“You’re still just a brat,” Rohan had huffed upon the realisation.

“Aw, that ain’t fair, sensei! I’m a brat and you keep comin’ back to me.”

Rohan didn’t know what did it- perhaps the frustratingly soft flutter of Josuke’s dark lashes against his cheeks as he blinked up at Rohan with a contented smile- but something in him softened.

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” He felt about as surprised by his own admission as Josuke looked.

Up until many months into their relationship, there had been many unspoken rules between Josuke and Rohan.

Josuke would come as close into the shallow water as he pleased, but never up onto the land.

Rohan would sketch Josuke and talk for as long as he wanted, but he would always leave before someone else showed up in or around the inlet.

And the most sacred of the unspoken rules that they both upheld- neither had ever touched the other.

Josuke had come dangerously close at times, instinctively reaching for Rohan’s hands, shoulders or arms in gestures that were just as often comforting as teasing- but withdrew just short every time.

It was as if the merman was afraid of blurring some invisible line between them, or tarnishing the agreement in such a way as to incite Rohan’s anger or wrath.

Rohan himself would never admit to any stray feeling or urge that would compel him to want to come into physical contact with Josuke- but he would admit that his instinctive desire for a thorough and intricate understanding of the world around him was getting the best of him.

In short, while sketching Josuke from a short distance away was tolerable, he found himself itching to discover what one could not learn about a mercreature by eye alone.

His plan was simple- he would explain his predicament and clearly inform Josuke that it was necessary for his research and his trade.

Except that wasn’t how it ended up going.

“You want to what?” Josuke had asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Practically speaking, I want to touch you. All I need is a feeling for your form,” Rohan hastily added.

But Josuke’s eyes slid downwards, and Rohan followed his gaze to his torso, and then the faint, silvery scars criss-crossing it that he had never taken the care to notice before.

“I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but I’m not dumb enough to believe that every human I come across is gonna be my friend.” His eyes, usually a clear, deep blue, seemed stormy- matching his countenance. 

“How do I know you’re not gonna hurt me? Humans have tried, you know. Might wanna take me away, lock me up.”

Rohan had always prided himself on his uncanny ability to read people. While Josuke seemed to be the one exception to the rule, he could read a kind of raw hurt in his tone that made Rohan think he’d been through a lot more than he had ever let on.

“How do you know I’m not gonna hurt you?” He added, tone manifesting itself into something lower and much darker.

Rohan had always known that Josuke was capable of immeasurable hurt- his long, powerful tail, his sharp, hooked nails, his rippling muscles and his razor-like teeth all added up to an element of danger more than enough to satisfy his faint recollections of his past encounters with Josuke’s kind.

But there was an undeniable goodness to Josuke, an openness that had lead him to let his guard down significantly over the time they had known each other.

“I don’t,” Rohan began, studying Josuke’s expression carefully.

“You could hurt me. But you could have hurt me any time leading up to today, and yet you chose not to. You chose to let me close, and you chose to tell me about your life.” He took a breath that was more shuddery than he would have liked.

“Look, I would be reluctant about saying this otherwise, but you’re not the worst person I’ve ever met. Nor one I would ever want to hurt.” He stepped back from the water. 

“Far from it, actually.” 

For an agonising moment, something in Josuke’s expression was still and wholly unreadable. But soon, the merman broke into a small smile.

“Okay, Rohan. But don’t think I don’t know that you’re just dying to feel me up!” Josuke laughed, and Rohan sputtered.

“Don’t make this weird. And don’t flatter yourself, you oaf.”

Josuke playfully flicked his tail, visible in the shallow water. There was a beat of silence. “So, what are you waiting for?”

Rohan’s hands fumbled more than he had anticipated as he rolled up the legs of his trousers, dropping his satchel and sketchbook on the dry sand where they would be safe before beginning to wade into the shallows.
“Don’t make me walk further than I have to. These pants weren’t cheap,” he bit back, but it was more to fill the silence than anything else.

“Is anything you own ever not ridiculously expensive?” Josuke laughed, and something about the way his eyes met Rohan’s own and lit up with something earnestly patient and welcoming had Rohan’s chest tightening just a little painfully.

Rohan approached closer, and closer, until he was standing face to face with Josuke. It was only now that he realised he was a great deal shorter than Josuke- especially with the added length of his tail. Josuke didn’t seem to realise at first, as his gaze was fixed on Rohan’s face. His eyes briefly travelled to somewhere below his eyes, but snapped back up to meet Rohan’s blank stare.

“Hi,” he murmured. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m always down in the water, but you’re kinda shorter than I thought you’d be.”

The first touch was a gentle brush of Rohan’s calloused fingers against Josuke’s forehead. The merman’s face took on a ruddy hue, and Rohan was sure his own was dark to match. 

“You… had a stray hair,” he offered as means of explanation. Josuke glanced off to the side.

“Thanks.”

Rohan had taken note of it before, but even without his more aquatic features, Josuke’s form was completely different to Rohan’s. Where Rohan was thin and lean and covered in a light layer of muscle from lugging art supplies about the place, Josuke was broad-chested and wide-shouldered with hard abdominals and large, solid biceps. Rohan’s touch started light at his collarbone, but got heavier as he felt along his pectorals, brought the back of his palm down to brush against his abdominals, and trailed his fingertips back up across his scarred ribs.

He did note that not all of Josuke was rock-hard muscle, at about the same time he slowly brought his hand down to trail along the curve of his hip, lower until-

“R-Rohan-“

“Ah. Sorry.” He didn’t even think to admonish Josuke for forgetting the honorific. He didn’t meet Josuke’s eyes.

Focusing his explorations a touch higher, he gently brushed a thumb across Josuke’s face until he reached the purplish gills that fanned out from his ears. Rohan’s searching touch continued, softly tracing the inner webbing, but then he abruptly stilled when Josuke shuddered.

“S-sorry. I, uh... It’s a sensitive spot,” Josuke quickly explained, looking a little like he wanted to duck under the water and disappear from sight.

“You can tell me to stop any time you want, you know,” Rohan replied, keeping the hand against Josuke’s gills still for the time being.

“I know. You can keep going if you want,” Josuke added.

Rohan took that as all the invitation he needed to continue, taking note of the reactions that escaped Josuke as he trailed his hands along different areas of his body. If he strayed a little too frequently towards his muscled chest or shoulders, neither of them mentioned it.

And when Rohan was finished with his exploration, neither of them mentioned the way his fingertips slowly trailed away from Josuke’s face as if reluctant.

And certainly, neither of them mentioned the way Josuke’s cheek followed Rohan’s gentle hand as it withdrew, or the split second afterwards in which they locked eyes.

The unspoken rule had been broken, and what had been left in its wake? Rohan honestly didn’t know.

One of the rare and only times Rohan had ever seen Josuke genuinely upset, he was the one at fault.

Following the summons of a rather large publisher of manga, his editor had arranged for a last-minute trip to Tokyo. Rohan had only been given enough time to pack his bags and book his ticket before he left town.

Unfortunately, over the two weeks in which he was gone, he realised that he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell the merman where he was going. 

It wasn’t as if he missed Josuke’s presence and voice and mellifluous laughter while he was gone. It wasn’t as if he found himself doodling tiny mercreatures in the corner of his sketchbook. And it certainly wasn’t as if he found himself going to bed and dreaming of the sea.

So the day after Rohan’s return to Morioh, he was careful to school his expression into a neutral mask of disdain as he scaled the rocks of the outcrop and arrived at the little inlet where he usually met Josuke. 

Except he remained standing by the shore for well over half an hour without any sign of Josuke.

Rohan was just starting to accept the awful sinking feeling in his gut that told him he should go home and consider the possibility that Josuke wasn’t coming back when a silhouette rose out of the water, a further distance from the shore than he was used to.

“…Oh. It is you.” That was definitely Josuke’s voice, but something about the way it broke in the middle was enough to convince Rohan that something was amiss.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to come,” Rohan replied, trying to get a closer look at Josuke from where he was standing. To his surprise, the merman sunk further into the water, gills flaring. 

Josuke’s laughter sounded bitter and ugly, roughened by his hoarse voice.

“You’re telling me. You thought I wasn’t gonna show.” Josuke deadpanned.

“Yes, well- about that. I had a meeting in Tokyo, and it was all very rushed-“
“Fucking can it, Rohan. Quit screwin’ around with me.”

Josuke’s voice wavered on the last word in a way that made Rohan’s eyes widen in shock, taking a moment to really examine him. The merman lifted a hand to scratch at his chin, and-

Those were fresh cuts on his knuckles. Fresh scars covering the top of his hands, even. Studying what was visible of his body more closely revealed that the rest of him was in a similar state. 

“What happened to you?” He stepped forward in alarm, but retreated just as quick when he looked up and saw the downright deadly glint in Josuke’s eyes. He looked like he was about to try to snap him in half.

But just as soon as Josuke opened his mouth, a loud, ugly sob left it. And then, right in front of Rohan, he was crying.

“Josuke! Talk to me, what’s going on?” Rohan half-yelled in alarm, jogging towards him.

“Don’t fucking get close to me. Don’t. Not if you’re gonna do the same thing, runnin’ away after you made me think- you actually-“ Josuke took in a shuddering breath.

“I care, Rohan. Ain’t that just sad? And somehow, I let that fool me into thinking you cared too.”
Josuke scrubbed the back of a hand across his eyes. He seemed to be on a roll now. “Ain’t the first time. Ain’t the first time someone made me care about them and then packed up and ran away and left.” 

Curse other people for being subject to negative emotions. Curse Rohan’s very real ineptitude when it came to the emotions of other people. Curse the fact that seeing Josuke so raw and vulnerable and hurt made him feel sick and violently worried.

“Look, I’m. I am many things, but I won’t fool myself into thinking I am a good person. I’m selfish, and I shut people out,” Rohan forced strength into his voice, gaze trained on the ground below.

“But I am not a liar. So believe me when I say I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

Damn it all to hell, that definitely wasn’t enough. “I am not a good person, and I shut people out because I’m afraid to care. But I do care about you.” Rohan risked glancing up to glimpse Josuke’s expression, and immediately glanced back down.

“I care whether I’ll show up here tomorrow and find one of the only good things in my life waiting for me. I care so much it makes me sick. I care so much it frightens me. I care so much I was getting worked up over a stupid business trip, and- And even admitting I care terrifies me. I will never understand you, but I want to try.                                  
“And I don’t know what’s been hurting you, or who hurt you, but you deserve... better. So I understand. I understand if you don’t want me to get close to you again,” Rohan chose to ignore the way his own voice was thick with a certain emotion.

He looked up again with the intention of saying something more, but stumbled backwards and fell to the ground with an undignified squawk as something huge, wet and slippery collided with him.

Only then did he realise that Josuke was hugging him, cradling his head to his chest and knocking his headband askew in the process. This time, that same sting in his chest was accompanied by a lighter flutter, and Rohan quietly slipped his arms around the parts of Josuke he could reach in return.

The hug was soft, silent, and lasted full minutes longer than any other Rohan had ever had. He could feel Josuke trembling against him, and the water dripping from his flattened pompadour was soaking into the shoulder of Rohan’s shirt, but he couldn’t have let go if he tried.

Eventually, the trembling subsided and Josuke’s breathing evened out. It couldn’t have been too comfortable for him on land anyway, Rohan guessed.

“You know what? You’re not like my dad at all. ‘Cause you came back for me, and you ain’t running from anything you did,” Josuke half-whispered, breath tickling Rohan’s face.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you. Guess I was just really cut up about everything,” Josuke’s hand reflexively brushed against his knuckles.

Rohan’s knobbier, more slender hand came to rest on Josuke’s larger ones, gingerly tracing a cut.

“Let me- I can clean this up for you. Why don’t you tell me what happened, and I’ll tell you about the last two weeks?” Rohan lifted his head from Josuke’s chest and sat up to look him in the eye.

“If you want, that is,” he added quickly.

Josuke sat back in the water, face softening into a smile. “I’d like that.”

It had been almost a whole year since that overcast winter afternoon in which he had met Josuke on the beach when it happened.

He was sitting in a small café in town with none other than his dear friend Koichi, who had convinced him to allow his girlfriend Yukako and their friends Okuyasu and Mikitaka to join them for a bite.

Rohan had been in the middle of telling them about one of his more recent- and less infuriating- run-ins with paparazzi when Koichi turned to him and smiled.

“You know, Rohan-sensei… You seem happier lately.” He had paused to take a sip of his drink. “More talkative. It’s nice.”

Okuyasu, who was seated next to Koichi, grinned as he piped up.

“Yeah. Almost like you’ve got a girl you’re not tellin’ us about!”

Rohan froze, and Koichi shot him an awkward glance in apology. It wasn’t like the fact that he wasn’t straight had ever come up when talking to anyone but Koichi, and it seemed that no-one had been able to guess on their own.

Waving Koichi off, he shot Okuyasu a questioning frown. “What are you talking about?" 

Okuyasu rubbed the back of his neck. “Y’know, you’ve done an awful lot of staring off into nowhere lately, and not like how I do when I’m spacin’ out. Talkin’ a lot more, too. You sure you don’t got anyone special you’ve been seein’ and not tellin’ us about?”

Everyone’s eyes turned to him, and for once, Rohan actually thought about it. There was no-one new in his life except-

His care for Josuke should have just been an objective fascination. It was research, study. It inspired him. Heading to the beach after a long day of dealing with pesky calls for interviews and his editor’s exhaustive criticism set his nerves at ease. It didn’t help that the compassionate young merman’s spirit was rejuvenating, even if it was also maddeningly unpredictable. And it was natural that his physical form should intrigue him, being as unique as it was. He spent more time talking to Josuke than any other person presently part of his life. And if characters that resembled Josuke a little too closely were beginning to creep onto the pages of his sketchbook at home and into his drawings for his manga, who was to judge? Had an unspoken clause been added to their agreement? One that dictated his chest feel tight at the thought of Josuke? One that made him want to protect the good in him, safeguard him from the hurt that had plagued him the day he came back to him? One that just maybe, more than anything, wanted-

“I don’t know. I don’t know what we are to each other at this point.”

“Aw, Rohan-sensei!” came Okuyasu’s excited and teary reply.

Yukako’s hard features softened, eyes shifting to Koichi beside her. “If they are important to you, tell them. You never know what could happen,” she advised. She and Koichi shared a small smile.

“Oh, and make sure you are engaging in safe practices together!” Mikitaka added much too cheerfully. Rohan spat out his coffee.

The first time Josuke ever laid eyes on Kishibe Rohan, he never would have guessed that the ornery artist would become one of his favourite sights in the world.

The second time, wherein Rohan had ditched his efforts to “dress down” and showed up in a crop top and earrings and pants that curved tightly to the sharp curve of his hips, he definitely wouldn’t have had trouble believing it. From a visual perspective, that was.

For a long while, their relationship had been a sort of back-and-forth, in which they would grow steadily closer, all the while learning more and more about each other’s lives- and then bicker and tease each other in an effort to- it felt like to Josuke- save face. 

Their rhythm was easy, practiced- in, out, closer, farther. Hugging in the twilight, bickering about Rohan’s wet shirt. Letting Rohan patch up his wounds, teasing him for bad bedside manner.

The only problem with the game they were playing was that Josuke had, in a cruel twist of fate, started to enjoy it more than a little too much.

Sometimes, Rohan would sketch him, and something about the way his green eyes grew luminous with wonder as he lost himself in his passion would seize at Josuke’s chest; something about the sight of Rohan so contented and serene would cause Josuke to bite his lip and look away.

It would only be after Rohan looked back up from his sketchbook that Josuke would remember to breathe.

Other times, when the sky was growing dark and Rohan was growing tired, he would pack up in preparation to leave Josuke, and something about the thought of Rohan spending the night alone in his house had Josuke’s mind filling with images of Rohan. Rohan warm and safe as he dreamt against his chest, breathing a tiny little sigh as he shifted and curled up to be closer, Rohan with his brow lightly furrowed in his sleep as Josuke pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead-

Josuke ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

He was utterly, totally fucked.

He had gone and screwed up one of the best things that had ever happened to him. Rohan had made it clear at the beginning of their relationship that his interest in him was purely for his manga and his own curiosity, but it was becoming increasingly clear that they had since grown far closer than that.

A hopeful part of Josuke was sure their friendship meant more than that. A tiny, more hopeful part of Josuke ached with the want to ruin that friendship in favour of something- anything- that would allow him the sweet rapture of telling Rohan those fatal three words and knowing he felt the same way.

He didn’t know when it happened- when the thought of Rohan had first sent his head reeling and his heart into overdrive- but Josuke’s increasingly not-platonic thoughts had been getting harder and harder to ignore.

Until now, just short of a year since their first meeting, Josuke was restless in his efforts to control his nerves at the thought of having to face Rohan with those kinds of thoughts running through his head.

When Josuke popped back out of the water to check the colour of the sky, he was shocked by the sight of Rohan not far away, sitting cross-legged on the sand with his green-painted lips curved upwards in a smirk.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come up from there,” he laughed, and the sound rang light and beautiful in Josuke’s ears.

“R-Rohan!” Josuke’s voice cracked on the last syllable, but he offered Rohan his best- if not somewhat strained- smile.

God, he was so fucked.

Thankfully, the rest of their time together went without too many instances of Josuke making an ass of himself- that was, until early into the night, when Rohan stood and made his way over and beckoned Josuke closer with a hand. 

The irony that Rohan could draw him infinitely closer even without a gesture of any kind was not lost on Josuke.

“So, Josuke, do you remember what we discussed last week?”

It was hard to remember much of anything with Rohan so close, Josuke thought to himself.

“Uh. Let’s just say I forgot,” Josuke replied, a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he ducked his head apologetically.

Rohan rolled his eyes with a huff and placed his hands on his hips. Conveniently, he failed to notice how the movement drew Josuke’s eyes like a magnet.

“Regarding your unfortunate lapse in memory, I told you that I’d like to try a little... experiment I’ve had in mind for a while now. You didn’t change your mind about me entering the water with you, did you?”

Josuke swallowed thickly. Kishibe Rohan and his insatiable curiosity was going to be the death of him.

“N-no. No, I didn’t change my mind,” Josuke managed, looking anywhere but at Rohan.

“Good,” said Rohan.

Josuke turned towards him in confusion at the simplicity of the answer, only to be met with the sight of Rohan’s bare torso bathed in soft moonlight.

The way Rohan moved as he did away with his shirt was nothing short of hypnotic. Josuke’s mouth went dry, and he dumbly stared until Rohan gave him a pointed look.

“What? I’m wearing swim shorts.”

Josuke shook his head in an effort to rid his head of thoughts that were increasingly beyond the realm of friendship.
“Yeah. Yeah, I got that.”

Josuke was quiet as Rohan made his way down to the shore, but his head couldn’t have been any louder. God help him if he messed this up now. God help him if he did something stupid. 

His train of thought was lost completely as the pale shape of Rohan slipped into the water beside him.

Rohan put an arm around himself. “The water’s cold. I don’t know how you do this,” he murmured, a hint of sulkiness to his tone.

Why, oh why, did Rohan have to tempt him like that? Why did such a simple statement have to plague Josuke’s mind with thoughts of wrapping his own, stronger arms around Rohan to keep him warm? Rohan was going to kill him talking like that.

“D-don’t stand so far away, then.” Josuke’s own words managed to surprise him, and in that moment, he felt about as taken aback as Rohan looked.

Neither of them looked away.

Without a word, Rohan moved towards him. Standing this close to Rohan, Josuke felt strange and unprotected- this was the nearest he’d ever stood to a human.

Up close, Rohan’s smooth skin and brilliant green eyes were even harder to ignore. As was the voice in Josuke’s head chanting a certain fatal three words like a mantra.

If Josuke pretended that his thoughts were occupied by anything other than the thought of Rohan’s arms around his neck, Rohan’s breath against his lips, Rohan’s face in his hands, Rohan’s slender fingers entwined with his, Rohan occupying his head and his heart and his life- he’d be lying.

But Josuke Higashikata was not a liar.

And before he knew it, he was leaning in and ever so gently cupping Rohan’s face in his hands. Neither dared to breathe as their eyes met.

“Rohan,” Josuke whispered against his lips. “I want to kiss you.”

Rohan was wordless as his eyes slipped shut, closing the last bit of distance to press their lips together in a soft kiss. 

Josuke’s mind was reeling, fireworks and constellations and galaxies bursting forth behind his eyes as he held Rohan closer and kissed him back.

Their first kiss was chaste and soft as the moonlight it was drenched in, but after Rohan pulled away to breathe, Josuke chased after the second with a passion unparalleled. Tilting his head against Rohan’s to deepen the kiss, he couldn’t help but revel in the feeling of Rohan allowing him to adore him like this, and of Rohan adoring him in return.

They broke away with matching wide-eyed expressions, until Rohan softly smiled and Josuke broke off into an incredulous laugh, the water lapping at their shoulders.
“You- I- Rohan, I love you so much. You have no idea how bad I wanted to say that.”

Rohan’s grin widened. “I think I might, considering how badly I’ve wanted you to say the same thing.” 

Josuke seized Rohan and wrapped him up in a strong hug, lifting him out of the water and twirling around in his excitement.

Rohan just huffed. “You can drop me now, you big lout.”

“So…” Josuke was the picture of someone trying to look inconspicuous and doing a very poor job. “Do you want to go out? I mean, I’d really like to date you, Rohan, and I just-“

Rohan sighed and cut him off. “If the press finds out you’re my boyfriend, they will go insane.”

Josuke’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. His pompadour softly bonked Rohan as he nuzzled into him.

“God, thank you Rohan, I can’t believe it.” Josuke lowered the mangaka in question back down onto his feet with a giddy grin.

“We’re talking about this, you know. We’re talking about all of it,” Josuke added, giving Rohan a look that was only somewhere in the ballpark of serious.

Rohan’s smile was soft. “We have plenty of time. I do still want to swim together, you know.”

“You’re on!"

In the faint light of the moon, all that could be seen were two figures, each wrapped around the other as if utterly enraptured by the feeling of closeness. Without the presence of any onlooker, any fear of crossing invisible boundaries that had long since been crossed, they were free to be what both had desired to be for a long time- each themselves, and each the other’s.