Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Joshua had the chance to live underwater, he wouldn’t look back to land for a second.

“One more lap!”

Theoretically, of course. Absolutely, he loves his life on land: he has a boyfriend that loves him, family and friends that support him and a future that’s more than promising and extremely close ahead of him. He loves the place he lives in and adores the job he’s working. In fact, Joshua loves his life so much, that during his biweekly deep chats with his boyfriend, he couldn't think of a response when asked what he would change about his life if he had the chance.

It’s just... It's just that there’s something about being underwater. Something that makes him feel completely weightless and totally free.

A shrill whistle cuts through the sound of water rushing past his ears as his hand collides with the tile barrier stopping him just swimming away into the endless sea.

“Time!” a voice above calls, loud and echoing around the confined pavilion walls. Joshua wills his head above the surface just for a minute to look at the boy standing at the pool’s edge. “Three minutes and fifty-nine-point-two seconds,” he says.

With his chest burning and his heart pumping, Joshua rests his arms on the lane lines and pulls off his swim cap and goggles. “That’s not too bad,” he pants.

Jihoon, looking down on him - a rarity, considering his 164cm reach - furrows his brow in confusion, glancing at his clipboard for a minute.

“‘Not bad?’” he echoes. “That’s a one-point-one-seven improvement on your average.”

Joshua smiles at him as he backs up and lies facing the clear glass ceiling. The pool rejects his presence by swashing water over his face, but Joshua feels nothing but calm, like the lapping against his skin was a massage from a million tiny fish. “Jeonghan’s been improving by one-point-eight-nine on his.”

Jihoon scoffs. “Who cares what Jeonghan’s doing?”

“Coach does.” Joshua starts towards the edge of the pool and pushes himself up as Jihoon steps back to take a seat on the bleachers. “And so do Olympic scouts.” He shakes the water from his face before he sits next to his companion, who tuts like a disapproving parent.

“You’re doing amazing, Josh,” Jihoon says. He hands the mentioned his drinks bottle and continues. “You’ll make the team for Regionals, trust me. You might even break your record.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Joshua snorts. He takes a gulp from the bottle and looks at Jihoon. “You made me a smoothie?”

“Hm-hm,” Jihoon replies, eyes not meeting Josh’s. “Milk - because I know you don’t like apple juice - strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, banana, oats… I found the recipe online. It's the, uh, Swimmers Smoothie, I think. Creatively named.”

Jihoon starts to collect his stuff, shoving the stopwatch into his pocket and the spare papers into his backpack, keeping Joshua's record sheet folded in a tight grip. Joshua watches him fondly, a smile playing on his lips.

“Either way, even if Jeonghan’s beating you at averaging or not, that doesn’t mean you won’t get on the relay set. You know you’re one of, if not, the best swimmer in your club.”

“I don’t,” Joshua replies. He swings around and crosses his legs on the bleacher seat. “I’m starting to get stitches around the fourth or fifth length.”

“That’s because you’re eating too many everything hot dogs from Jun's and ‘forgetting’ to work it off the next morning.”

Joshua gapes at Jihoon, who grins mischievously. “Well, you’re the one who keeps asking me to use my discount!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to eat the junk food too…” Jihoon sing-songs back.

“Shut up. You’re starting to sound like my mother.”

“Oh, I love your mom, thank you.”

Joshua sticks his tongue out to Jihoon, who retorts equally as childishly, and covers the former’s face with his towel. Joshua looks at the offering with a bemused smile.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“What, bully you? No, I think you’ll find it's my obligation to.”

“No, I mean—” Joshua motions around. “Wake up at five-thirty to come to practice and make me smoothies and record my times for me.”

Jihoon lands his gaze on Joshua for a moment before dropping his gaze to the threads of his hoodie. “Well, I like it. It’s refreshing. And I get school work done too.”

Joshua keeps his eyes on him as the latter stands and roots through his seemingly endless backpack for a water bottle. “Hm,” he replies. “Well, it’s not so refreshing after doing it for thirteen years.”

When Joshua says he’d like to live under the water, he guesses he means he wants to live in the constant comfort the feeling of being submerged gives him. When he’s lying on his back in the ocean, watching the way the blue of the skies pass him by until there’s a hue of pink or orange above him; or when he’s feeling the waves wash over his skin, hearing the crash of them against the beach, or how they roll above the surface and he’s below, in the tranquil deep. What he doesn’t want, however, is to have his body woken up before it’s ready, and to spend the next several hours pushing and pacing through resistant waves, only to be rewarded after with a strict diet and a stricter gym routine and to get up and do it all again the next day. The idea of working from the waves is a dream (ooh, maybe in the future, there could be office jobs underwater) but the practicality of spending his every waking minute training and pushing himself shaped out to be a nightmare entirely.

“I don’t buy it.”

Jihoon tuts again, standing so he could look down to Joshua once more. “Well, maybe I just wanted to spend more time with you.” He leans in easily and gently presses a kiss to the other’s lips.

“Oh, yeah.” Joshua nods. “The bags under your eyes really scream that this is for the romance.”

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to wake up early to help my boyfriend in his swim practice?”

“No, I’m saying you despise mornings with a burning passion and that I think it’s got something to do with you not being able to sleep lately.”

Jihoon shrugs. “I know in my heart I’m doing this for our relationship.”

Joshua smiles. “Ji, I’ve known you for ten years. I know what’s wrong with you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re not sleeping because of your fieldwork next week—”

Jihoon drops his head back and groans. “Shua…”

“And I know you’re trying to hide your fear but, Jihoon, I know you, okay! I know you’re worried about it.”

“You’re making me think you’re more scared about me going on a boat than I am.”

“Because I am scared about it.” Joshua takes Jihoon’s hands in his. “You’re an aquaphobe who’s doing a marine sciences degree and you’re going to have to spend twenty-four hours on a research ship out in the Pacific ocean. Of course, I’m going to be worrying about you.” He rubs his thumbs over Jihoon’s knuckles. “And I can tell you’re worrying because you’re not sleeping right, you’re not eating right and, most unusually, you’re waking up at five-thirty to come and help me at swim practice. Call me stupid but I think that’s not my usual Jihoon's behaviour.”

Jihoon exhales deeply as his boyfriend’s big brown eyes gaze up at him. “I’m fine. I promise. You have bigger fish to think about frying, like, oh you know, Regionals. ”

Joshua hums. “You come first.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?

“Being you.”

“I—” Joshua stammers. “I’m just looking at you.”

“Yeah, well…” Jihoon trails off, pecking Joshua sweetly.

“Well, what?”

Jihoon opens his mouth to reply, only to bite his lip as Joshua leans in again, hand holding his cheek and offering him a longer, slower kiss.

Jihoon’s hand finds Joshua’s in his lap, holding it and smiling against the former’s lips as he turns his head, leaving more kisses to reach the corners of his mouth, becoming longer, and harder until Jihoon’s free hand is curling up in the dark strands of Joshua’s still damp hair.

The door to the leisure centre suddenly slams open with a bang, the weight crashing into the thankfully durable window beside it.

“Alright,” a new voice echoes around the pool. “Your mom is not shelling out a few thousand dollars a year for you to train to spend your time not training, Jisoo.”

Jihoon quickly scurries away from his boyfriend, standing and dipping his head to the newcomer. “Sorry, Ms Park,” he replies robotically, folding his hands in front of his lap formally. Joshua grins and tempts to coo at his boyfriend, but seeing the flush dust over his cheeks, he decides against it.

“I’ll have none of that—” Joshua’s coach, a vibrantly beautiful woman nearing her forties and who was known to her team as Coach Kahi, motions to the two, “—near my pool.”

Joshua shoots Jihoon a shy smile, who seems to shrink further into his shirt.

“Jihoon was just helping time me for the four hundred, coach.”

“And?”

Jihoon almost bounces on his toes. “He’s made a one-point-one-seven second improvement on his running average.” He opens the piece of paper still clutched in his grip. “If he keeps it up—”

“Jeonghan’s shaven off one-point-eight-nine,” Kahi interrupts. “Jisoo is falling behind.”

Jihoon opens his mouth to stammer a reply, eyeing Joshua as the latter mouths a ‘told you’. “Well—”

“He’s going to have to be increasing more if he wants to cut the relay team.” Kahi takes a sip of her polystyrene cup. “And this close to Regionals, distractions could go as a miss.”

Joshua’s eyes find the floor just as Jihoon’s try to find his.

“Yes, coach.” He replies solemnly. He tries to hide the dejection from Jihoon in his eyes and turns to pick up his cap and goggles.

It’s become a nightmare entirely.

“Olympic registers are coming by tomorrow morning, Jisoo," Kahi says. "And they've requested to see you, Mr Yoon and Ms Zhou specifically."

Joshua picks his head up instantly. "Really?" He spares a glance at Jihoon.

Kahi raises her eyebrows plausibly, again going to drink her coffee. "Something about wanting to take qualifiers to Colorado Springs after Regionals." Before Joshua can reply, she finishes. "So better shape up."

Kahi disappears into an office at the far end of the pool and Jihoon drops the clipboard on the bench with a clunk. “It’s like she doesn’t know she has the best junior swimmer in the whole state on her squad,” he mutters.

Joshua smiles and starts to fiddle with the straps on his goggles.

Olympic training. Isn't that everything he's been working towards forever?

"Well, she’s right. I’m not a junior anymore, this is professional swimming.”

“You’re one of the best swimmers in the city, Josh,” Jihoon says. Joshua can tell in his voice he’s getting agitated. “And she’s kicking you down like you’re just another kid who won a Fishy’s First Swim medal.”

“Hey.” Jihoon has a flush to his cheeks that Joshua can feel as he holds the former’s cheek in one hand. “Chill, I just need to practice more.” He adds, with a scrunch to his nose, “and diet, probably.”

"The Olympics though," Jihoon blows out a breath, a smile playing on his lips. "That's a very, very big catch."

Joshua hums. The biggest catch he'll ever get.

He remembers the first time he swam. It was at the beach, and he was six years old. His dad had taken him out on the boat for the first time that day, and Joshua could still remember bending over the rails, his father barking instructions at him on how to handle the masts, but he couldn't bring his eyes away from the deep ocean blue. In the shallows of a secluded lagoon near Laguna Beach, his dad firmly held onto his waist, letting his little legs kick with all their might, wading around the shore like a puppy eager to go on a run. The following year, Joshua won his first county swimming competition and, later, the state championships.

Back then, swimming came as natural as walking, just a little more fun and rewarding. Joshua could lie in a pool, the ocean, a lake—a pond, if it was big enough— until his whole body pruned. He'd go as far as to call the water his second home; there's not been a day since then he's not been swimming. So why is he not excited about this as he should be?

Jihoon claps his hands in front of Joshua's face, who blinks and hums.

"Sorry, what?"

"Are you alright?” Jihoon laughs. "You zoned out on me for a second."

"Yeah, sorry." He smiles, reaching out and fixing Jihoon's fringe as he pulls his bag over his shoulder. “You should get going, I don’t wanna make you late.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and accepts Joshua's lips as he leans down to kiss him. “A whole two-hour lecture about shallow water habitats, I’d be a fool to miss that.”

Joshua kisses him again, and then once more before finally pushing away his boyfriend’s shoulders towards the door. “Go, my little scientist. Go save the dolphins.”

Jihoon hums, waving over his shoulder. “Have fun swimming, my big fish.”

*

Jihoon moved to the west coast when he was five.

At that time, it was all sun, sand and big opportunities.

Now, his eyes avoid the ocean as he makes his way towards a quieter street just to the west of Venice Blvd.

“Hey, Jun,” he greets with a sigh, stepping into the shade of the cafe and pulling himself into a high chair by the window. Even from here, he can hear the waves wash over the shore and the seagulls as they scavenge for food amongst the never-ending gaggle of tourists. He holds his forehead one hand and swallows down the feeling of bile left in his throat.

“You do not look good, Jihoon,” Jun, a tall, tanned boy who ran the Beach Hut with his ailing mother, comments as he pours Jihoon a complimentary glass of ice water from the counter. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Jihoon replies, smiling in thanks as he chugs the cold beverage. “Just peachy.”

“If you need to lie down, there’s a couch in the back—Hi, what can I get you?”

Jihoon watches as Jun bumbles about his cafe, single-handedly taking orders and fetching drinks as the other shop hand clears away plates and takes them to the kitchen for cleaning.

Wen Junhui’s been a friend of Jihoon’s from since grade school—he’d actually shoved Jihoon into the sandpit once after someone had accused Jihoon of stealing his milk. They made amends quickly when the real culprit had been found and somehow they have been joined at the hip since.

“I’ll be alright,” Jihoon says as Jun works about fixing the customer their requested ice blend. “Just… nausea.”

“Josh was telling me about your fieldwork trip,” Jun says. “You really shouldn’t do it if you can’t handle it.”

The words sound almost like a challenge, even though Jihoon knows they’re not.

When Jihoon was ten, his family took a trip to the beach. His mother, elder sister and younger brother had saved to be able to pay an independent sailor to take them on a private boat ride around the coast. His mother, a youthful, hardworking lady, had often told her children her wishes to take them sailing around the world and it would be his brother, Seokmin’s, first time on the waves since he was born a few years earlier. It was supposed to be a wonderful day, the sun, sea and sand serenity Jihoon had always envisioned day trips in the seaside city to be like.

Jihoon’s done his best to not step foot near the ocean since

“I can handle it,” Jihoon lies, taking another sip of his drink. “I just gotta… you know, get over it.”

Jun looked unconvinced at his friend’s excuse, handing the customer his drink and taking their money with a smile.

“Isn’t there a way you could just, like, do the research from shore?”

Jihoon shakes his head, swirling the ice around his glass. “It’s compulsory to collect the organisms on my own.” Jihoon groans at the thought, his stomach twisting at the image of waves rocking the boat, his spine-chilling at the scent of the salty sea.

“It is imperative you attend this trip,” his professor had said.

Jihoon sat at the back of the lecture theatre, head in his hands, willing nausea to settle before he made a scene.

“Most of what you will learn will be on your final at the end of the semester and, of course, extra credit to those who go above and beyond on the research aspect. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon ran straight for the bathroom and hurled up most of his subpar tasting cafeteria lunch. Jaehyun Jung, Jihoon’s closest friend at college, rubbed his back and handed him water as he asked the question just about everyone else already had:

“Why did you even take Marine Sciences if you’re deathly afraid of the ocean?”

Jihoon looks at Jun and sighs. “It was my mom’s passion,” he says. “And mine. I like the stuff in the ocean, you know, sharks and whales and those weird looking fish with the lightbulbs on them. But its what they live in that terrifies me.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, can they?”

Jihoon nods towards him and takes the last gulp of his drink.

“Hey, Jihoon,” a bubbly voice says as it enters the cafe. “Hi, Junie.”

Jun almost drops the tea he was serving, droplets scolding his hand. “J-Jieqiong!” he stammers. (Jihoon rolls his eyes.) “Hi. Hey, how are you?”

“Not too bad,” Jieqiong replies cheerily, moving her sleek black hair over one shoulder, her other, bare shoulder reflecting a burst of sunlight. “Just came by to pick up some drinks for the girls. Jihoon, you don’t look so good, honey—” (A name she referred to almost everyone.) “—are you okay?”

Jihoon nods. “Just a bug.”

“Are you ready for a big order, Junhui?”

Jun almost scrambles behind the counter. “Of course! Always ready.”

Jihoon can’t remember a time when Jun wasn’t head over heels for the bright-faced, certified swimming queen, Zhou Jieqiong. She joined Joshua’s swim team when she was sixteen, just a year younger than Jun, and from the first time he saw her crushing the female’s medley like it was walk in the park, he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since.

Too bad she has a girlfriend.

“I’m going to need three of your iced caramel macchiatos, one with an extra shot, two ice latte macchiatos, two ice vanilla lattes, two mint chocolate blends and just one lemonade.” From memory, Jieqiong recites her team's order and Jun scrabbles to type it all into the register. “Did you get that all?” she asks.

“Yep, yep, no worries.” Jun hesitates. “Just to be sure, run it by me again.”

Jieqiong lets out an airy laugh and Jihoon can see Jun’s knees weaken from his seat. She sets off again with her order for ten, and Jihoon returns his attention back to the lumps of ice at the bottom of his glass. He lets out a sigh and drains the water produced as they melt in the sun, eyes scanning the pale green and cream themed cafe. He knows Jun’s mom built the place from the ground up, buying a cheap plot of land burnt out after an unfortunate fire in the early nineties and had sat untouched since. He brought Joshua here on their first official date - if you can call needing an ice pack after Joshua was hit in the head by a stray skateboard over on the boardwalk a ‘date’. Still, it was where they shared some of Mrs Wen’s special honeycomb ice cream, albeit with a swollen eye, and the small cafe titled the Beach Hut just west of Venice Blvd became like their second home.

Jihoon woke up in hospital two days after the family boat trip, Yejin crying to his left and an unknown man with a boy to his right. He barely remembered a thing.

“He’ll most likely have lasting psychological trauma from the event,” the doctor said to Yejin, only seventeen at the time. “Since he was there when his mother passed.” (Busy woman. She wasn’t pulling any punches. Of course, Jihoon was only ten and barely understood any of it.) “It’s advised he sees a counsellor to help with the fact.” She handed his sister a card. “You might want to inquire into seeing one yourself. It’s likely your youngest sibling will be too young to be affected greatly.” And left.

Yejin wiped the tear stains from her cheeks and held Jihoon’s hand. “Ji, this is Mr Hong and his son, Joshua. They’re the ones who called in to help us out, o-on the boat.” Her voice was hoarse and broken and her red eyes indicated this is the first time she’d stopped crying in a while. "We owe them our thanks.”

Jihoon turned his head to the man and the boy beside him. The man, Mr Hong, wasn’t too tall but had fading-to-grey hair and dressed in casual clothing—a boating man’s clothing, whereas his son wore the uniform of a school Jihoon didn’t know of. He bowed his head and thanked them in both languages he knew.

Jihoon doesn’t think his younger mind realized what really had happened until later, when back at home, Jihoon smashed a plate and Seokmin instinctively replied, “Mama’s gonna be mad at you!” That night, he heard his sister cry until her pillow was soaked through.

Joshua wasn’t without him from then on, every day, some way or another, they were together. Without either knowing how the two had become ingrained into one another; a traumatic event to bring two unlikely people into each other’s orbit.

“I don’t I’ve ever seen someone that whipped—”

Jihoon jumps out of his skin at the honey voice sounding from just behind him.

Joshua smiles at Jihoon, who holds a hand over his heart and tuts. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

His boyfriend wears a cap over his probably damp hair, still smelling slightly of chlorine and chemicals, but also of the orange-scented shower wash that he’s favoured to wear. “Just a little,” Jihoon scoffs, shifting to face Joshua as he takes a seat beside him. “How was practice?”

“Wet.” (Jihoon snorts.) “Class?”

“Sciencey.” Jihoon tries to ignore the surge of sickness returning to him suddenly. “Talked about the field trip in MMB.” He can feel Joshua’s eyes on him, concern drilling in.

“And?”

Jihoon swallows. “I’m feeling better about it.” Lies. Anything to get Joshua to stop worrying.

“Really?” He can hear this lack of sure in Joshua’s voice.

Jihoon nods and looks at Joshua finally, giving him his most believable smile. “Yeah, just… gonna have to get over it, I guess.”

“Thanks, Junie, you’re a star.” Jieqiong collects the drinks she'd ordered, stacked in three cardboard holders and gives Jun a dazzling smile. She turns to leave. “Hi, Josh,” she greets.

“Hey, Pinky,” Joshua replies - a nickname shared between the members of the swim team. “Coach is looking for you, by the way.”

Jieqiong’s face falls. “Why?”

Joshua raises his hands. “No idea, she looked mad though.”

Jieqiong lets out a quiet whine and shifts from one foot to another. “I told Kyla to cover for me! Thanks, Josh, I’ll see you later.”

“Good luck!” he calls after her as she hurries across the street. Joshua turns his attention back to Jihoon, smile fading to concern. “Baby, you don’t look so good.”

“Literally everyone has said that—”

Joshua stands, taking his chin in his between his fingers and examining his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Shua, it’s just a bug.”

“You were fine this morning. Have you eaten something bad? Jun, do you have any sickness med—”

“Josh,” Jihoon laughs, taking Joshua’s wrist in his hand. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

Joshua slumps back into his seat, unconvinced furrow of his brow. “Alright… Do you want something to drink? Eat?”

“Just some water, please.”

Joshua pulls his wallet from his back pocket and makes his way to where Jun was sorting the out the register. Jihoon watches his back and rests his head on his fist, a sudden cloud of fatigue drifting over him. He hadn’t thought so much of the shipwreck since the months after it happened, but with the ever impending fieldwork just around the corner, the nightmares of the wide-open sea had been haunting him every night. He’d been losing sleep, busying himself with all sorts to distractions from the inevitable. In the really bad dreams, it’s not just him: it’s Joshua, Yejin, Seokmin, Jun, even his mom—all people he’d give his life to save without a second thought. He’s in a cube, water rising around him, no way to escape with their bodies floating just out of reach. His movement is restricted, he tries so hard to break the walls, but there’s no use; he’s helpless. He wakes in a cold sweat and lies deadly still to hear the patterned breathing of his brother on the bunk above, or for the rustle of his sister getting ready to go work. With tears in his eyes, he’ll text Joshua if he’s awake, who’ll reply asking if Jihoon’s needs him. The answer is yes. Jihoon almost always needs him.

Joshua sits back down with a vanilla ice blend and another cold glass of water before Jihoon can register it. He takes the latter’s hands in his and begins. “We’re gonna do some relaxation exercises, okay?”

Jihoon snorts a laugh. “Babe, I—”

“Sh, it’s okay, just breathe. In.” He takes a deep breath in and lets it out with a sigh. Jihoon follows to amuse him.

“Wow, all my fear and anxiety has just disappeared.”

Joshua leans in and kisses Jihoon quickly, humming as he does so. “You’ll be okay, okay? These people have run this trip hundreds of times, they know how to keep you safe.”

Jihoon exhales and takes a sip of his drink. “I know, I know.” He considers going further but just slumps his shoulders and smiles up at Joshua, rubbing his eye. “I know.”

“Oh, hey Josh!” Another of Jun’s employees, Amber, a short, well-built girl with a sweep of blond hair, enters from the back room, hanging her apron up and signing out in the green book sitting on the counter. “You still up for a round on the dinghies today?”

“Uh,” Josh checks his watch, and then the sun that makes its way towards the sea. “Yeah, sure., I’ll meet you at the marina?”

“Sure! See you, Jihoon. Hey, you don't look too great..."

"Do I not?"

Joshua stands, taking a long sip through his plastic straw. “Do you want a ride home, babe?”

Jihoon shakes his head, letting Joshua stroke his fingers tamely through his hair.

“You sure? I’m not keen on the idea of you walking all the way back.”

“I’ll take the bus.” He smiles as Joshua’s eyes furrow further. “Seriously, I’ll be fine.” He takes Joshua’s hand in his and brings his knuckles to his lips. “Please, be careful.

“I always am.”

“Promise?”

Joshua leans down, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s forehead. “Promise.”

Chapter Text

Jihoon knew the storm was coming when the air began to thicken around him. The clouds drifting in over from the west brought warm rain, heavy rain, deafening claps of thunder and blinding streaks of light. The wind blew branches into the window as Jihoon sat at his desk, knees to his chest, school papers scattered out in front of him. His hands kept twitching to check his phone, mind scrambling to everything other than his test on saltwater manifestations.

“As expected, this evening’s freak storm has taken the residents of Los Angeles completely by surprise.”

“Yes, people are being advised to avoid staying outdoors for too long as torrential rain and strong winds are expected to increase throughout the course of the night. Forecasters are saying the worst of it should be gone by dawn but are advising not to take any small vessels out to sea until at least midday tomorrow.”

Jihoon’s head comes into contact with his desk, pulling the blanket further around him. Come on, Jisoo, text me back. He presses the home button on his mobile, the smiling background of himself and Joshua lighting up in front of him, but no little green icon telling him his boyfriend has responded to his texts.

Joshua should’ve been done sailing hours ago - Jihoon doesn’t even want to think about what could happen if he was still out in the bay when the storm started getting rough. The bad images plague his mind like a virus: his boyfriend’s mangled body being tossed around the ocean, his poor bones being crushed between the bow of his boat and a rock front, the light leaving his eyes as he desperately tries to claws his way to the surface.

Jihoon pushes out from his desk with a jolt and grabs his phone in a hurry. He presses the second number on speed dial and paces the length of his shared, box-like room until the tone turns to voicemail. He groans quietly, not too loud to wake his sleeping brother, but enough to quell his frustration and panic until another boom of thunderclaps. Joshua’s always been the one to pull Jihoon close when he’s shivering, afraid of a storm.

“It’s just a little bit of wet rain and a little bit of wimpy electricity—” (Jihoon swears he can hear that honey voice right next to him.) “—you’re safe right here with me, Jihoon.”

And Jihoon knows he is. He’s safe on land, safe with his family. But Joshua might not be, and it only takes one more rumble and the lights in his house to flicker before Jihoon’s pulling on his coat and sprinting out into the storm.

*

This is bad.

Joshua’s hands burn from tugging on the coarse ropes, his gloves lost to some monstrous wave coming to crash down on him.

This is so very, very bad.

The sailing dinghy plunges side to side, roughly rocking over the ocean with masts broken and what was left of the sails to guide him. The dark skies above him crackle and clap in anger, heavy rain striking his skin like the sea had a vengeance against the people.

“I think we should call it a day,” Amber had said just after beating Joshua in another race around the pier. “You can try and win some other day.”

Joshua looked out to the sun almost sinking behind the horizon. The wind was inviting, the sound of the waves sloshing was alluring. It was such a beautiful evening, he couldn’t stand to leave it be just yet.

“You go on ahead,” he called to his companion. “I’m going to go on one more run.”

“You sure?” Amber challenged. “Those clouds don’t look too friendly.”

Joshua glanced up at the foul looking congregation of dark clouds overhead. “I’ll be fine, I’ll dock before they cause any real trouble.” And with that, he swung his weight to the left, and the wind blew his sails further out to sea.

Joshua realises that was a stupid decision. He realised that a while ago. He wishes he was at home, probably drinking a cup of tea and distracting Jihoon from doing school work. He wishes he wasn’t soaked through and being bombarded with heavy waves and freezing winds. He wishes he wasn’t losing control of his dinghy, being flung around like a rag doll, or had absolutely no idea where he actually was.

This is probably the most bad Joshua could ever be.

“Please,” Jihoon’s voice calls to him. “Be careful.”

Joshua gives the ropes one last tug with his entire body. Blood drips from his palms, his sides screaming in protest.

“I will.”

The cables snap, the ropes ripping into Joshua’s skin, and his body is sent flying into the freezing depths of the unknown sea.

*

Jihoon takes a second to stare up at the tall, white house on the corner of the street. Joshua’s family has always been well off, and it shows with the three-story vastness of the almost mansion that they call their home. The lights inside are mostly off, save for the downstairs foyer and one light upstairs which Jihoon begs is Joshua or at least his mom. He huddles up under the porch over the door and rings the doorbell twice.

Please be home. Please be home. Please be home.

The light flickers on as the heavy black door opens. Mrs Hong stands there, peeking through the crack, seeming to let out a breath when she notices it’s just her son’s boyfriend. Her son’s very, very damp boyfriend.

“Jihoon?” she questions, still with a hint of an accent. “You must be freezing! What are you doing out in the storm?”

Jihoon accepts her offer of entering their home and tilts his head. Before he can utter a panicked word, Mrs Hong adds, “Is Jisoo not with you?”

The sinking feeling in his gut is enough to physically pain him. “I - He isn’t home?”

Mrs Hong looks between Jihoon and the rain flooding the street outside. “No, he told me was going sailing, I assumed he’d gone back with you.”

Jihoon wants to break down and cry. “He - he might still be out there,” he chokes. “He hasn’t texted or called me at all.”

Mrs Hong runs pale.

This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. Please, God, if you’re there…

Jihoon’s never been one for worship but prays that all those years Joshua spent at Sunday service amounts to something now.

“I’ll call Jun,” he says, frozen fingers fumbling with his phone. “He has the number of the girl he went racing with, he could just be with her and they could be safe. His phone could've just run out of battery or been lost. He's always losing it..."

Could.

As Mrs Hong ushers him into the warmth of the living room, announcing that she’ll call the coast guard, the words Jihoon repeats to himself seem to be less and less believable.

*

Air.

Joshua can’t breathe. He can’t move. He can’t think.

Swim.

Forces drag him further from the light, like the hands of the sea are clasped around his ankles, pulling him ever deeper. He’s so cold, his limbs are tired, he can barely keep his eyes open to see the waves wash over the racing surface.

Jihoon.

Joshua never really believed in the whole life flashing before your eyes thing, but as he feels the ache of his chest trying to hold in his last breath, all he can think about are the people he loves. He sees his mom, the happiness she wears when her son makes her proud, every warm cup of tea drunk together on the rooftop talking about whatever they could. He sees his dad, every time he’s taken him out to sea, and shared just a little bit of his passion with him. He sees Jihoon and everything he loves about him from his hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. He remembers every time he’s ever felt happy in his life, every medal, every hard practice paying off; every smile, every laugh, every fight and difference settled with Jihoon, every time he’s had him wrapped up in his arms, every kiss he’s ever placed on his lips.

He can’t leave them, not like this, not now.

He cranes to find the fight inside of him, the sheer will to keep his legs kicking. He promised his mom he’d be home for tea, and that he’d go fishing with his dad this weekend. He promised Jihoon he’d be safe. He can’t die now. He won’t die now.

Suddenly, his body screams at him in pain, crushed against the force of the tide and a rough, jagged edge that pierces deep into his side. Rocks. He’s not far from the surface, which means he can’t be far from shore. I will not die now.

With all the might he can muster, the water blurring red around him, Joshua pushes his body, gripping one saw-edged rock to another. As he moves, his body catches more obstacles, incising deep into the arms and legs. He wants to scream but can see the dark cloud and flashes of lighting merge and wobble the more he wills his body to find a footing in the sand that lifts higher and higher beneath him.

I have to get home, I have to see Jihoon. I will not die now.

Joshua is in so much pain. Every time he takes a stroke towards the surface it’s like a thousand bones are breaking under his skin. He thinks of all the times he’s heard his friends shout for him, his mom and dad cheer for him, Jihoon joking he’ll make it worth it if he wins. Nothing will ever amount to the need Joshua has just to hold him even if it’s for one last time, not even the relief of the air soaring into his lungs as he breaks the waves and takes the only breath that’s ever mattered in his life.

“Help!” He knows its useless screaming, but it’s the only thing he can think to use his voice for before he’s dragged back under momentarily, then thrown back up to breathe.

Just a few meters away, through the thick, heavy rain, Joshua can see the dark outline of what he hopes is land, or at least a large ship not too big enough to sail right over him. In a new strike of lightning, he gets a flash of the cliff, waves crashing continuously against it’s white, crumbling face. With what strength is left kindling inside him, Joshua sets off in that way, battling the ripper waves and sinking below every few seconds. It feels like years have passed him until he can finally feel the waves thin around him, sand hard beneath his feet, and the exhaustion wash over his whole body as he wades his way through a resisting current, and crashes down in a heap on the sinking shore. He can’t bring himself to care about the tongue of the sea still lapping over him—he’s on land, he’s alive, he can breathe and make it back home another day. In some twisted relief, he chokes out a laugh.

The disgusting taste of saltwater id on his tongue but the feeling of take that, mother nature you raging bitch warms his frozen, seizing bones.

*

“He said he was going to do one more round, then he’d come in.”

Jihoon doesn’t think he could sink further into despair. “So, he’s not with you?” He chews relentlessly at his nails to the point they sting and paces his way around the Hong’s family home.

“No, I’m sorry Jihoon,” Amber takes a breath in. “You don’t think… he’s still out there? Do you?”

Jihoon wants nothing more than to just cry, go to sleep and wake up in Joshua’s arms like none of this day had ever happened. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I really, really hope he isn’t.”

“Get back to me as soon as you know anything, okay?”

Jihoon swallows the thick lump plugging his throat. “Okay.” What if we never find anything. He holds his head in his hands, hearing Joshua’s mom talk frantically with the coastguard on the other end of the phone before her shuffling feet join him in the open kitchen.

“They’re searching a ten-mile radius from Santa Monica and have sent word to the base in Long Beach to keep an eye out. Is there any place else he could’ve gone on land?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “I’ve called all his friends, all the members of the team, even his coach. No one’s seen him since Amber left him in the bay.” He sighs and gives Mrs Hong a reassuring smile as she stays on hold in anticipation. “He’ll be okay,” he says, but doesn’t know who he’s reassuring.

“I know…” Mrs Hong begins. “I know this must be hard on you, Jihoon.”

She’s right. Jihoon feels like his soul is constantly being crushed each second he knows Joshua isn’t safe. He swallows again, the dire need to wail out in sobs scratching more and more at this throat. “I’m okay,” he lies, holding tight on the last few scraps of his composure. “I know he’ll be okay.”

Please, please, please. Jihoon doesn’t know if he’s praying but hopes some God, some benevolent spirit is listening to him. Please, I can’t lose him like this too.

*

Joshua isn’t sure how long he was lying still for, but the storm stays raging above him when he feels a pair of warm hands grip him. For a fleeting second, he thinks it could be Jihoon until a loud clap of thunder shakes him as well as one of those hands landing hard against his face.

“Hey!” an unfamiliar voice calls. Joshua’s eyes sting as he tries to open them, the cuts on his body howling as he tries to move. “You okay?” The stranger, a male, tries to lug his body up from the sand, to no avail. “Come on,” he groans, and Joshua feels an odd relaxation from the tone of his voice. “I can help you, you have to get up!”

Joshua doesn’t recognize anything about him - not his face, not his voice, not the rough texture of his hands. But he wills himself to his hands and his knees, the strangers arm hoisting him to his feet and pulling him along the soft sands towards the cliff face. Joshua’s head is too heavy to pick up for long, but he carries his feet with the pace of the stranger, hurrying until they’re under the shelter of an arch, and the harsh stones underfoot scratch and slice his bare feet more.

“Thank you,” he utters as he’s guided into an even darker crevice underneath the arch, his voice hoarse, his lips blue and numb. The stranger doesn’t respond, only lugs Joshua up higher, sliding over the damp rocks until dank wood becomes apparent under the soles of his feet.

The sounds of the angry ocean fade further away and Joshua wonders how the stranger doesn’t even stumble in the darkness. Soon, light begins to bounce around the passageway, illuminating the glisten of the wet rocks around them. The storm rages on above, and Joshua can just about hear it echo as the stranger pulls him into an opening forming a small cave space in the heart of the cliff. He doesn’t want to pose too many questions, fearing the helpful albeit quiet stranger will take offence, but his eyebrows unintentionally shoot up as he notices the various lamps, and more strangely, the makeshift mattress, the wooden desk and the pinboards standing up cluttered with papers and red markings. It looked like the set of old-school explorer movie. At the far end, Joshua notices a rock pool, sitting undisturbed, unlike its outside counterpart, with the water being a crisp, almost enchanting colour of blue.

He’s eased down on the mattress on the uneven planked floor and told to rest. Without wary, Joshua does and closes his eyes, finally being able to take a breath. It was calm again, just how he feels when he’s floating on the water. Weightless, like an untouchable being. Everything feels fine.

He thinks about Jihoon, envisions him in front of him, holding out his hand as to lead him somewhere. “Hey,” Jihoon’s voice says, soft and gentle and so, so inviting. “Wake up.”

“What?” Joshua’s voice doesn’t sound like his own, but some distant echo of some kind.

“Wake up.” He can see Jihoon’s smile. “You can’t go. You promised me you’d cook me that pasta I really liked next week.”

Weakly, the corners of Joshua’s mouth lift up. “Yeah… I did.”

“So, don’t fall asleep on me, dumbass.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Joshua lets out a long, aching sigh. “You’ll wait up for me?”

There’s no response. Just the sound of the sea slowly creeping back into his head.

“Jihoon?”

Suddenly, Joshua opens his eyes and jerks with a gasp. A surge of water passes from his throat and he rolls to his side, spluttering and spitting it out.

“Where am I?” Joshua settles back onto the mattress and pants, wiping his eyes and coming to terms with the environment around him. Only when he can control his breathing can he hear the stranger respond.

“You’re on one of the Channel Islands,” the stranger says and Joshua feels a wave of relief wash over him. Thank God he hadn’t drifted some way to Hawaii. The stranger turns his back on Joshua and starts to fumble around his desk, clanging test tubes and vials like some crazy scientist. “We can get you home shortly.”

“Thank you,” Joshua says again. He wets his lips, the dryness of his throat feeling thick and painful, but feeling too awkward to ask for a drink unless he’s offered. “D… Do you live here?”

There’s a pause. “I research here.” The stranger still had yet to look at him, but Joshua could tell he was well built, not tall but with strong shoulders and defined features, a tuft of brown hair on his head. He didn’t look old either, but just barely older than himself.

“Research?” Joshua asks without thinking. The stranger hums and quickly follows:

“How long were you in the water?”

Joshua hesitates. He tries to shift, but the sting of his wounds is horrible, and he lets out a hiss between his teeth. The stranger finally glances over his shoulder at him intently. “I don’t know… a few minutes?” He was not getting the right vibes from this man. It’s like he was rescued from a tiger only to be stalked by a lion—prey either way. “Do… do you have something to drink, please?” he tries in a meek voice. “Or something to put on my cuts… they hurt a lot.” He’s acutely aware of the bleeding now. It’s not heavy, but enough that it made him woozy. The biggest of them all was a deep, long gash that spanned the length of his calf, stinging and gushing badly.

The stranger seemed to pay him no mind. He turns his back on him again, muttering to himself. “A few minutes should do…”

Joshua wants to ask more questions, the red flags were thoroughly raised and waving. God, I just want to go home. Before he can ponder, the stranger pulls himself closer to the desk, his shoulders hiding whatever tinkering he was doing, and Joshua feels like he would take the ocean as opposed to this guy.

“Who are you?” Joshua finally speaks, swallowing past the lump wedged in his throat.

"I'm just a scientist," the stranger says.

Joshua tries to relax. A mad scientist, oh great. That's exactly what he needed. He looks around the cave, grimacing about how someone could spend time here. "What... are you researching?" He asks, clearing his throat and trying to be civil about the stranger's seeming lack of integrity. It's not like Joshua's bleeding out here or anything.

"M... marine life."

"Oh," Joshua replies. "My boyfriend's going into that field." Can I go home now? There's a long pause, silence full of the stranger playing by his desk. Joshua could see the pinboards full of notes from his seat, but not clear enough to read them. Newspaper clippings titled SIGHTING scribbled out pictures of fishtails and flowcharts showing the chain of the ocean. He discards it as just typical science-y stuff and finds his eyes end up on the pool. The crisp, bright blue waves look inviting, like if he weren't incredibly creeped out and just coming from a near-death experience, Joshua probably would've taken a dip. "So, uh... do you know how long until the storm passes?"

The stranger doesn't answer. Joshua nods to himself, pursing his lips. "Cool," he whispers, gradually being able to feel his limbs again. It was surprisingly warm in the cave. "Do you have, like, a boat? That can take us back to the main—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

Joshua shuts his mouth, muttering, "Sorry."

The stranger looks over his shoulder again, smiling a smile that put Joshua on edge even more. "It's okay. They like that."

Joshua swallows thickly. “I’m sorry, what?"

The question seems to fly over the stranger’s head, and he turns around to kneel next to Joshua on the mattress. “Drink this.” He offers Jisoo a flask, it’s contents hidden by its metal exterior.

Every alarm bell sounded in Joshua’s head, every stranger danger talk in school playing on a loop.

“Go on, it’s just water.” Joshua could see the stranger’s features now: young looking, with flushed cheeks, eager eyes, and dark eyelashes that fanned over his cheeks. He looks like anything but a crazed scientist that could be luring Joshua into his lair, but just like a boy you’d accept a flyer from on the street. “I promise you’ll feel better.”

Dubiously, Joshua reaches out and takes the flask, his thirst trumping all need for sense and caution. He puts the cold metal to his lips and in a daring move, tips the contents into his mouth.

It tasted just like water, but thicker, like it was mixed in with something— oh, no. Joshua glances at the desk, and then back at the stranger, swallowing thickly. “What—” he feels a sob coming from his throat. “What was that?”

The stranger doesn’t answer, instead grabs Joshua's leg, just by his wound, and tips a test tube onto it.

Joshua lets out a wail, the sting lasting for nothing more than a few seconds. "Hey, what the—!" He can't break free.

“How do you feel?”

Like the hypochondriac side of his brain had been sleeping, Joshua knew that whatever was in the tonic indeed did make him feel better. Warmth took over him suddenly, heating his bones to moderate from the inside out. It scared him, for the sting of his wounds started to slowly fizzle away too until they were no more than an itch easily satisfied by a breath. Joshua starts to hyperventilate, scurrying up from the mattress across the hard lain wood of the cave. As he feet press against it, he can barely feel the impact, his whole body overcome by being numb.

“What was that?” He repeats, more frantically, kicking at the stranger and edging away.

“It’s okay,” he muses, but his calm voice wasn’t soothing Joshua now. “Listen, you need to hear me out—”

“No!” Joshua lets out a cry, panicked, frightened. Slowly, his limbs start to ache again, his legs gradually seizing up. What’s he done to me? What have I done to deserve this?

“You might wanna—”

“Who are you?!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you, but it’s rare that this just happens. I can't let you go.”

“What happens?” Joshua feels hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Oh, no he's going to keep me here. Why didn't I just drown?   Please, I don’t want to die.

“You just have to remember now that you’re not going to die, but it will hurt. I’ve given you—”

Joshua doesn’t get to hear the rest of the sentence. His feet find an edge, and his whole body is again submerged in water.

Whatever calm the pool at the edge of the cave looked, it wasn’t reflected underneath the surface. Joshua is twisted around in a maniacal cyclone, the bright blue water pulling him deeper and deeper into the depths. He thinks it might be the time to recount his life once more, but all he can think about is the pain.

His whole body feels like it’s approaching the sun, burning from the tips of his toes to his waist to his chest, to his head. It’s like there was a fire burning him inside out.

Don’t fall asleep on me.

He wants to scream like it’ll help quell the pain.

I won’t.

He can’t hold the anguish in any longer.

Promise?

It feels like his whole body was being distorted, bent out of shape, mangled to something inhuman.

Promise.

He feels like his skin is flaking away, and it only takes one last searing pain, like a knife into his neck.

I’m sorry. Jihoon. I’m so sorry.

He opens his mouth, and against the water rushing in, he screams.

Chapter Text

All he could hear was white noise. 

The shrill whistle of a passing train, the dull thud of a migraine... But he didn’t feel any of it. He only felt still, calm, like he was waiting for something he wasn’t sure would come.

A sledgehammer was coming down on his chest, his throat clenching, then loosening, then clenching in a painful circuit. Is this what death feels like? Feeling empty and bodiless, no control over anything at all? Joshua always imagined he’d be dragged by death kicking and screaming, but he just felt still: not ready to go, but not fighting to say.

You’re not going to die.

Maybe he doesn’t have to.

“That’s enough compressions.”

“Get the defibrillator on him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Joshua.”

Joshua feels a jolt, maybe from the cool sensation suddenly spreading across his chest, maybe from the familiar croak of the voices around him. He tries desperately to open his eyes.

“Stand back, please.”

He can’t move, not even to crane his head when he hears the whisper. Please.

There’s another jolt, this one sharper and quicker, and suddenly his body feels alive. More alive than he’s ever felt. I'm not dead. He doesn't have time to consider happiness. Bit by bit, the aches and pains wash over his joints, exhausting him when he's only just woken up. Where's mom? Where's Jihoon. He lets out a groan.

“I have a pulse!”

“We’re getting a response. Joshua? Joshua, can you hear me?”

All he can manage is a groan. Determined, he stutters his eyes, wincing from the bright lights overhead.

“Keep feeding him air, and keep him still. We don’t know how much water’s still in—”

Joshua feels something swell inside of him, an unstoppable wave that gushes through his body, rushing towards his mouth.

“Turn.”

His body is elevated to its side by a series of hands and a surge of water and sand streams past his lips in a horrible feeling of disgorging. He lets out a pained moan, little by little, the feeling returning to his fingers and toes. His chest is strained, aching with each troubled breath like there was a war raging in his lungs. Finally, he blinks back the harsh white of the room around him and takes in the series of figures clustered around him.

“Are there any more injuries?”

“A fairly severe laceration on his left calf, about ten inches in length.”

“Try to get him to cough up more water, we can’t put him under anaesthesia until his lungs are mostly clear.”

Pathetically, Joshua tries to speak. All he gets is another efflux of water coming from his lungs.

“You’re okay, Joshua,” a voice close to him says. The mask around his face is removed, then replaced. “You’re in hospital. You suffered a near-fatal drowning, but you’re alright. We’ll get you stabilized and start to stitch up your leg wound.”

And so comes another upchuck of saltwater.

“He’s breathing deeper, we should be able to give him a dose of anaesthesia.”

“Sir, please can you step away.”

Joshua rest on his back again, the lights above him becoming blurry and unfocused.

“Is he okay? Is he—”

Joshua wants to turn his head, but his movements are sluggish, lazy. He reaches out his hand, having it weakly fall beside him. “Jihoon,” he murmurs. 

He sees a struggle of someone being pushed out the door before his whole vision fades to black.

*

When he finally wakes up, Joshua doesn’t know what day it is. From the first conscious breath he takes, his whole body argues with him to stay very, very still.

He can tell it’s sunny, and his window is thrown wide open, the honking of traffic mixed in with the occasional chirp of birds softly reminding him that he’s really alive. Gently, Joshua breathes out a loud and slowly opens his eyes.

You’re not going to die.

It takes time to adjust, and his eyes sting in protest, but he blinks back tears and wills his stiff neck to take in the room around him. It’s a box, with a table in the far corner piled with flowers and cards, and medical equipment dotted in an assortment. To his right is the door, and an empty chair by the bedside, and to his left is the window, the L.A. skyline just in the distance, and another chair with a body curled up in it.

Joshua’s breath gets caught in his throat, overwhelming tears welling up behind his eyes that he furiously tries to chew on his chapped lips back. “Jihoon?” He tries, but his voice is nothing but a weak croak. Jihoon’s sleeping body barely stirs.

“Jihoon,” he tries again, this time with his throat cleared and his vocal cords warming. From here he can see the stress sunken deep into Jihoon’s face. His under eyes are dark and his skin looks pale and sickly. How long had Joshua been asleep? God, he’s so, so thirsty.

“Babe.” This time, Joshua’s voice broke mid-word and sounded deep and rough. In his seat, Jihoon flinches and lets out a long breath through his nose. How did this dork wake up at five-thirty for me? Joshua smiles fondly, resting his head comfortably against the pillow to wait for Jihoon to wake on his own. 

It doesn’t take long. Eventually, the unwise sleeping position has Jihoon stretching and wriggling in the chair, sitting up and rubbing his eyes from his midday nap. He looks around the room - a habit both of them seem to have picked up while waking up in strange places - until his eyes end up on Josh. His face changes from exhausted to shocked in a second and Joshua can’t help but grin.

“Shua!” Jihoon clambers out of the chair, almost tripping over his still asleep feet and stumbling next Joshua’s bed. “Holy shit, you’re awake.” He takes up his boyfriend’s hand in his, holding it to his forehead before kissing it repeatedly. “Fuck, I thought—” He chokes on a sob, his eyes welling up as Joshua’s do, and dives in to hide his head in the latter’s neck. “I thought you weren’t gonna wake up.”

Joshua smiles to himself, tears starting to slip down his cheeks as he sniffles and shushes Jihoon’s sobbing. In his arms, the smaller boy quivers and shakes with worry coughs and choking wringing his whole weak body with emotion.

“Of course, I was going to,” Joshua whispers, his hands finding refuge tangled in Jihoon’s hair. He’s never letting this feeling be forgotten, the simple luxury of having Jihoon tight in his arms again. “I have to make you that pasta you like next week.”

Jihoon chokes out a laugh, pulling back to wipe his tear-stained cheeks and his red, irritated eyes. “Fucking hell, you scared me, Jisoo,” he mutters, finally bringing their lips together. It’s soft, but desperate, and fills Joshua’s heart with so much warmth it leaks and spreads to every inch of his sore body. “I love you. I love you so much, fuck, I—”

Jihoon’s face finds Joshua’s shirt again, hiding and crying into it. Joshua kisses the top of his head. 

“I’m okay, baby,” he whispers. “I’m okay.” Finally, it felt okay to be.

“How could you do that?” Jihoon suddenly spits, whipping his head up and almost kneeling on the hospital bed. “How could you be so stupid? ”

Joshua’s mouth falls ajar and frowns. “I’m—”

“Yeah, you better be lost for words!” Jihoon slaps his arm. “What kind of idiot sees a storm coming and thinks, 'Hm, you know what’ll be funny? If I give my mom and my boyfriend premature heart stress by staying out here for a couple of hours!'” 

Joshua dares to crack a smile and regrets it when Jihoon slaps his arm repeatedly.

“It’s not funny, you prick! God, I almost went into cardiac fucking arrest! You’re so fucking reckless and stupid sometimes, I wonder how you haven’t gone and got yourself killed! Oh, wait. YOU JUST WENT AND DID!”

“Babe—”

“Honestly, what kind of dumbass are you?! You’re a maniac, I’m—”

“Babe?”

“—considering getting you locked up, and that way, you wouldn’t be able to hurt yourself! Do you know how much your mom and I—”

“Jihoon!”

“WHAT?!”

The doctor at the door clears her throat. “Mr Hong’s vitals spiked,” she explains. “We came to check on him. Glad to see you awake, Joshua.”

With a flushed face, Jihoon stands straight, hands fiddling with his jumper threads. “Sorry, Dr Kim,” he mutters, folding his hands like a child being scolded. “I’ll, uh… I’ll go call your mom, Joshua.”

Joshua grins at him and reaches for his hand to press his lips against them gently. “Thank you.”

With his tail between his legs, Jihoon scurries from the room.

*

“I still think you should be in hospital.” Jihoon spits the last of the toothpaste from his mouth and cleans the sink with a burst of water. “Three days recovery isn’t enough, and you know that.”

In the bedroom attached to the en suite, Joshua lounges on the bed, fingers scratching behind the ears of his Russian Blue kitten. He rolls his eyes at her as Jihoon continues: “I mean… maybe you missed the part where, you know, you were in a comatose state for two days?”

“So?”

“And clinically dead for thirty-seven minutes.”

“Unimpressive. I read a book once where a woman was revived after eight hours.”

Switching off the lights and closing the door behind him, Jihoon sighs. “Josh, please take this seriously. And stop making faces to Pisces about me.”

The striking grey cat meows as Jihoon picks her up, settling her to rest in her hammock before sweeping her hair on his side of the bed for the night.

“Honestly, Jihoon. I’m fine, okay? Dr Kim cleared me to be discharged.”

Adorning one of his boyfriend's baseball jerseys, the hem of which reaches just above his thighs, and a too-big pair of sweats, Jihoon climbs into bed next to Joshua and sits facing him. “No,” He begins. “Dr Kim said she couldn’t stop you from discharging yourself since you're twenty-one. She said she wanted to run more tests on you.”

Dropping one pillow to the side of his bed, Joshua sighs and reaches out to hold Jihoon’s cheek in one hand. 

“Baby, I feel fine. I feel great.” And he meant it, too. He was energised and full of life. He felt like he could run a marathon, or swim a relay by himself and do it all again two times after. He felt like a baby lamb at the start of spring, able to bound around the fields and bleat at strangers without ever tiring from it. Joshua truly hadn’t felt this good since… well, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this good. Waking up a day ago in all that agony—it feels like weeks ago, months ago. It feels like the whole accident was a product of many moons passed; sometimes, it barely felt real at all. “I didn’t need any more testing.”

Jihoon looks unconvinced but rests his head against Joshua’s wrist anyway. “Josh, it’s not just about what you feel, it's about your physical health too.”

“My physical health is perfectly fine too. Did you not see me run up the stairs earlier.”

“Yes, I did. I called you a stupid for it.”

Joshua smiles. “Yeah, you did.”

“All I’m saying is you need to slow down.” Jihoon pulls the duvet up to chin and settles down next to Joshua. “I don't know if your brush with death has made you eager to jump back into training, but you need to take a day off.”

Joshua has no intention of doing that. He’s missed four days of training already, and with Regionals getting closer, he can’t afford to waste any more time. “Okay, I hear you.” 

Jihoon narrows his eyes at him. 

“What?” 

“You’re agreeing too easily.”

Joshua opens his mouth and scoffs. “Oh, what, now I can’t even agree with you?”

“Not when you’ve spent the last five minutes arguing with me.”

“I wasn’t arguing, I was gently disagreeing.”

“Now you’re arguing.”

Jihoon dives under the covers before Joshua can retaliate with his hands. “Turn the light off, I have class tomorrow.”

Joshua blows his fringe from his forehead and twists his body to switch off his lamp. “You do act like my mother sometimes.” 

Curling up against him, Jihoon’s warmth spreads like a fire and he pulls the latter closer so his head is pressed into his neck. There’s quiet, comfortable silence only filled by the constant tick of Joshua’s wall clock and the pair’s calm, facile breaths.

“Shua?” His voice is almost a whisper, a small, soft breach of the hush.

“Hm?” Joshua’s fingers card through Jihoon’s hair.

Jihoon shifts his place, being able to wrap his arms around the former’s torso. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

For a moment, a lump forms in Joshua’s throat. He holds Jihoon close and feels the weight of the world press down on his chest—like his lungs were collapsing under miles and miles of emotional rubble. He was so close to losing this; to never having Jihoon in his arms again. He was so close to losing everything: his family, his friends, his team, his life. Thinking about Jihoon, curled up all scared and alone, or about his mother and father heartbroken over the loss of their only son, it makes him want to drop to his knees and give God a plea.

Joshua’s never really stopped and listened before to how constant the ticking of the clock is, let alone thought about how it’s always been there. But it is. Even when he’s not paying attention, the clock is still ticking. And it always will be until the batteries on the clock run out. Still, time will tick on, and it’ll keep going because time never really stops. Every second that goes by is a second he’s not going to get back; it’s a second closer to not being here anymore.

You’re not going to die.

And he didn’t.

He swallows silently and brings his head to look down at Jihoon. “I won’t,” he whispers back. He doesn’t wait for Jihoon to ask. “I promise you.”

*

“You’re dead.”

“Is that really an appropriate joke?”

“Jisoo, you promised you’d take it easy for a while!”

“I am taking it easy,” he argues. Switching the shoulder to rest his phone on, Joshua uses his free hand to twist his locker key and shove his clothes inside. “I’m just going to do a few lengths.”

“You’re insane. And so stupid—God, just come back, will you? I am not comfortable with you being there on your own.”

Joshua looks around the pool. “I’m not alone. The janitor is here. And besides… what’s the worst that could happen, baby. I’m not going to drown.”

“You already did. And died. For thirty-seven minutes.”

“Oh, thank you. I had forgotten after the other thirteen times you’d told me.”

On the other end of the line, Jihoon sighs. “Josh, please, listen to me. You’re not in the shape physically to go exercising like an athlete just yet. You may think you are because you’ve not done this little in so long, but trust me, you were in a coma for—”

“Two days, I know, baby. I know.” Joshua exhales deeply and leans back against the wall of lockers. “Jihoon, I’m fine, okay? I know you want to look after me, but I can do that myself.” He wets his lips and watches as the janitor leaves, mop and bucket in hand. “I promise that if I start getting tired or strained or cramping or anything, I’ll get out. Okay?”

He hears the faint sound of Jihoon rustling in the bedsheets in the background. “Okay. If you start feeling anything, you call—”

“Yes, call you, I know, I know, I know—have a good day at school, I love you, bye!” Joshua closes his phone and shuts it in his locker before Jihoon even has a chance to dial again.

The water shines up at him like a very wet, very cold invitation. It’s like she was calling to him in the most inanimately sexy way imaginable. Sitting at the edge of the pool, his toes barely breaching the surface, Joshua takes a deep, deep breath in. The bitter fragrance of chemicals inhaled in is barely the same as the salty scent as the wide-open sea, but it’ll just have to do.

So he launches himself in.

Sounds distort around his ears as his body sinks further and further into the deep end. It’s like he’s been welcomed by a warm fire after walking hours in the cold, wrapping him up in heat and making him feel so, so safe. Without goggles on, he can barely open his eyes, but through the blurry sting, Joshua can see the warped wriggle of the fluorescent lights lining the pavilion roof, merging with the bright, post-storm skies seeping in through the windows. 

Finally, it feels like he’s home.

Bubbles rise to the surface as he lets his breath out, Joshua finally pushes himself up to take in air. His hair sticks to his head, which he messes around with a quick scuff as he lets his lungs fill to the brim with all the oxygen he can manage.

He could live like this forever.

He’s floating, just letting his body drift atop the water for what feels like a century, delved in bliss and security. It’s like heaven’s come down to give him a personal kiss on the lips and left him with a bed full of clouds and feathers. It’s perfect—it’s more than perfect, it’s exquisite… Until a sharp pain in Joshua’s leg bursts like a lightbulb and sends hot stabs of affliction to prick at his soft skin.

“Owh…” he grumbles, an entanglement of confusion and chagrin settling into his stomach as he takes a look at the bothered leg underwater. It starts small, a keen discomfort burning where the long, stitched up gash sits on his left leg. It stings in the same way of a papercut, just persistent and like the paper was gradually getting deeper and deeper into the skin.

Must be the chemicals, he thinks, taking it easy and front crawl his way to the pool edge. He’s about to lift himself onto the tile, when the small pain turns into a growling anguish, his leg seizing almost numb and making it feel like it was being stretched from the joint.

“Owh!” he says again, this time loud enough to echo through around the leisure centre walls. His confusion, however, quickly steams into panic when the same ugly, throbbing pain spreads its way to his right leg also. 

“Fuck, owh, owh. ” It was excruciating  like a fierce beast had closed his jaws around his limbs and was intent on tearing them from his body.

What the fuck is happening?

In fear, Joshua reaches down to grab a hold on his legs in the water and feels his heart stop dead when instead of feeling the smooth skin of his thigh, his fingertips brush against something cold and foreign and… scaley?

He peers down and thinks his heart has just dropped to his stomach. There, where two long, slender legs should be, is instead one long, shimmering, indeed scaley tail. Joshua lets fear grip and shoot him still for a second before he scrambles in a panic and launches himself out the pool

Scrambling to get out of the pool, Joshua lies against the hard tile and covers his eyes from the lights. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

This isn't happening. This isn't real. Joshua's actually still in a comatose state, safe and warm in a hospital bed, Jihoon's sleeping one side of him, his mom on the other... Joshua opens his eyes and tries to stop his chest from heaving so dramatically and stop the pounding of his heart in his ears. You're imagining this. None of it is real. Seconds slipped by in years and eventually, Joshua finds the upper body strength to sit up and look around the pool. It's empty, despite the busy thoughts in Joshua's head and, much to his relief, he looks down and sees two, almost dry, human legs attached to his hips.

"Oh, thank fuck," Joshua breathes to himself, collapsing back down with a sigh. He rubs his eyes until the lights pulse behind his lids and feels the euphoric relief sink into the hectic mess of the pit of his stomach. "Jesus Christ what did Jun put in that coffee."

Joshua lies there for a moment until he can no longer feel the tremor of his heart and rubs his tired face. He sits up and considers the water with scepticism. Chalking that whole vision up to, "Well that was strange" made him feel uneasy. His legs felt sensitive like the cold tile was enough to make them quiver. A tail. On the one hand, Jihoon would say that was fitting for him. Have fun swimming, my big fish. But that was such a vivid image - where did it even come from?

For the first time since losing consciousness, Joshua thinks about the island, and the scientist and the drink. There was something in the drink. Joshua was drugged. Maybe the effects are only coming through now. He should contact Dr Kim. Maybe get a quick psych evaluation while he's at it. And he won't tell Jihoon. He can only take so much of Jihoon being right.

Joshua stands and stretches his arms above his head, feeling the pull on his side. He bends over and feels the pull on his quadriceps and inspects the wound up his calf. The stitching was neat and sturdy and saw no signs of damage. Satisfied, he steps over the edge and drops back into the pool with a splash.

This time, it was quicker. The prickle turned into the feeling of knives against his skin, urging deeper and deeper and Joshua feels the panic rise in him again. His legs pulled, then went numb. Oh, no, no, no, no. The fiery sensation sent his breath erratic again. God, please, no. Then it was still.

Joshua's neck was frozen in place, unable to feel his legs any longer. He couldn't even bear to look down.

You're dreaming. You're high, you've been drugged, you're not stable.

The janitor came back in for a few moments, smiling at Joshua whose head just broke the surface. He collected his forgotten bucket and then left.

Eventually his, neck grew tired and Joshua lowered his head just slightly and frantically searched the water with his eyes for two human legs. Instead, he saw the end of a fish.

Joshua picked his head up and screamed.

Chapter Text

Of two things, Joshua was certain:

1) Los Angeles is the worst place to drive when you're in a hurry. Just his luck that the one time he wants to rush home from swim practice, he got stuck in forty minutes of traffic, and now he was going to rash because he was still dripping wet in his seat.

2) He has a fucking fishtail. His entire lower body had been replaced by the lower half of a fish. And of that, he was certain because he was sitting in the bath staring at it.

Pisces jumps on the rim of the tub and meows, demanding attention and oblivious to the turmoil her owner was going through. Absently, he scratched behind her ears, throat barely being able to choke out his words.

"What am I going to do, Pi?" he asked and the grey cat purred nonchalantly in response. For a second, Joshua thought she would pounce on his newly appointed appendage.

His tail extended past the normal length of his legs, feet replaced by asymmetrical pointed caudal fin. It began at his hips, scales almost welded into his now red and sensitive skin after he spent almost an hour trying to pry the foreign bottom from his body. It was a shimmering sky blue colour that, by the time it curved out into the fin, was a striking shade of yellow. Down the centre of the it, was a long stripe of dark scales that shone when the bathwater washed over them. Objectively, the tail was beautiful. Joshua would have just preferred if it wasn't a replacement for human legs. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He did that several more times until it no longer felt like he was going to cry. There were a lot of thoughts going around his head as he stared at the aquatic appendage, first and foremost: How the fuck did this happen? Secondly: Why is this happening to me?

Aside from this situation being the most widely unbelievable thing Joshua has encountered - and believe, he'd been in some sticky messes in his life - it also posed a pretty big inconvenience to just about everything. This, to put it lightly, was not normal; having a half-fish body is pretty weird, even for somewhere like Los Angeles. He was practically a Mutant, but the last he heard, there's no school for gifted fish run by a bald Posiden in a wheelchair, so this couldn't have been his superhero origin story for certain. (He can add that onto the list, too.) If anyone found out about this, Joshua would have the FBI or Ocean Conservancy called on him, he'd be taken in and experimented on and stuffed and put in a marine life taxidermy museum and moms and their kids will take pictures next to him for eternity—

Joshua's hand drops into the water with a splash and Pisces jumps onto the bathroom floor with a mewl. Slowly Joshua sank lower into the water and blew bubbles to the surface, the tail flopping uselessly over the edge. The third time it happened it hurt a lot less than the two times in the pool, but on the second, it took longer before the tail turned back into legs. It looked like Joshua couldn't touch water without becoming a literal fish out of it and even more annoying was that it was getting easier. He had more feeling in the tail this time, being able to identify his fingers as he dragged them over the scales. The tail was part of him - it wasn't just stuck to his body, it was his body.

He jerked suddenly and sat up in the bath.

"Pi," he began, staring at the cat cleaning herself on the bath mat, "if I can't go into water without this happening... how am I going to swim at regionals?" Pisces blinked at him as he slumped against the white ceramic. "How am I going to swim competitively at all?"

Pisces meowed and sat to attention as Joshua ran his wrinkled fingers through his hair. "If I can't fix this, I won't have a career anymore." Joshua felt the weight of the world fall from his shoulders and sink to the bottom of his stomach. "I won't be able to swim again." The more he said it, the more it felt like another boulder was clipped to his body and dropped into the ocean.

With a start, Joshua attempted to climb out of the bath and then stopped. The way he bends his legs, the tail reacts. He didn't have knees, but if he went to kneel, a ripple was along the appendage, and the fin smacked the edge of the bath with a wet slap. 

"Shit," he said. He looked at Pisces and Pisces looked at him before she picked herself up and trotted out of the bathroom.

"Thanks," he muttered and attempted to leave the bath-prison before his entire body shriveled up. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stand - he hasn't anything to stand on. He flexed as he would to curls his toes and the point of the fin curled instead. Joshua lets out a bitter laugh and elevated the fin into the air, playing with the strange new mechanisms of his own body. 

"Oh, Christ, I need to fix this."

*

"Hello?"

"This is my hourly check-in for Dr Lee Jihoon, he's not my doctor but he feels the need for me to call him and make sure I haven't got myself killed yet."

Jihoon gave a curt laugh and switched the shoulder that held up his phone. "How was your swim?"

Joshua paused before he answered. "Good. Alright. Fine. The usual." 

Jihoon's eyes hurt from how hard he rolled them. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," Joshua replied quickly. "Frankly, I'm quite offended that you think I can't go for a light swim without getting hurt."

"Your voice betrays you." 

"What are you having for lunch?"

Jihoon looked down at the box of fries in his hand. "A salad. Don't change the subject."

"I didn't like the subject."

"Are you at home?"

Joshua sighed through the phone. "Yes."

"Good," Jihoon answered. "Rest for the day."

"What if I don't?"

"What you gonna do, go boating?"

Jaehyun snorted into his coffee.

Jihoon smiles as Joshua hollered on the other end of the phone.

"So did you call for a reason or did you just want to be a bit annoying?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner later, but now I just might take Jun instead, you know, dine with someone who cares about me after my near-death experience."

"Apparently, not even you care about your near-death experience. And I can't tonight. Yejin's got a night off and she's making me and Seokmin dinner."

"Wow, blow me off for your family? Shady."

Jihoon snorted and shook his head. "Sorry yeah, this is just one more step to break up with you, so."

"Relationship ended with Jihoon, Jun is now my boyfriend."

"Jun's straight."

"Jun hasn't seen me in speedos."

"Jihoon, do you want a ride? I'm heading your way anyway," Jaehyun offered as he unlocked his car from across the university parking lot.

Jihoon moved his phone away from his ear. "Thank you, that's really kind of you." He spoke back into it. "I hate you, I'm hanging up."

"Wait, I got something to say."

"Be quick."

"I love you."

Jihoon grinned. "I love you too. I'll text you." He closed his phone off and climbed into the passenger seat of Jaehyun's car.

WithL.A speeding - well, more like moving at a moderate pace past them, Jaehyun started, "Oh, I almost forgot. John's having a party at the weekend, you down for coming? Well, I say 'party' it's like 20 of us getting together to play card games, its really chill. Wonwoo and Taeyong are going to be there, and you should bring Joshua."

Jihoon smiled at Jaehyun as he opened the newest text from Joshua: do you know anything about mermaids??

"That sounds great, thanks for the invite," he answered.

"I'm sure John asked to invite you because he wants to talk about sports with Joshua all night again, but you know what, the more the merrier."

Mermaids? The mythical creature?

"I'll have to double-check Josh is free and if he can bear to not train at five in the morning again, but we should be good."

right. mythical as in not real, right?

"How is he getting on?"

"He's, uh..." Jihoon started. He quickly typed a reply: Last time I checked, yeah, not real. Why? "He's okay. Being stupid and not resting like he should."

"Athletes. John's the same - when he tore a ligament in his knee last semester, I could barely get him to take two weeks over before he was trying to join baseball practice again."

do you think they could be?

"Glad it's not just my boyfriend who's ridiculous." 

No, I'm not twelve, Shua. What's brought this on? We can watch the Little Mermaid tomorrow if you really want to.

Jihoon's phone indicated Joshua had seen his message, but no response bubble popped up. Jihoon slid his phone between his thighs and continued picking out the fries that weren't overcooked. 

"Did John suffer any psychosis?" Jihoon asked. "He didn't start believing in werewolves or anything?"

*

Joshua dropped his phone onto his desk and hid his head in his hood with a hum. He closed the existing tab headed 'half-human half-fish' (which came up with some rather disturbing drawings) and the two next to it headed 'do i need to go to the doctor for transspecies specific problem' and 'was poseidon gay' and hones in on the Wikipedia page in a new window.

This article is about fish-bodied female merfolk. For the males, see merman.

He clicked on the link.

Mermen, the counterparts of the mythical female mermaids, are legendary creatures which are male human from the waist up and fish-like from the waist down, but may assume normal human shape

So far so correct.

Triton of Greek mythology was depicted as a half-man, half-fish merman in ancient Greek art. Triton was the son of the sea-god Poseidon and sea-goddess Amphitrite.

Joshua opened a new tab and patters his fingers over the keyboard: how is a mermaid made?

How to become a mermaid in three easy steps | Fin Fun Mermaid

Mermaids & Mermen: Facts & Legends | Live Science

Origins of the Mermaid and the Magic Comb | Mermaid Myths

Joshua sat back in his desk chair and scratches behind Pisces ears. None of the mermaids in the myths and legends were created, they were all born, or they had just always been there. As if this situation couldn't get any worse, Joshua's new abnormality was abnormal. Even, if in some alternate universe he wanted to make the whole thing work, Joshua's tail was given to him - forced on him, like he was a sick science experiment gone wrong, from the brain of a mad scientist, like he came from a—

From a test tube.

The island. The stranger. The test tube. Joshua banged his hands onto his desk and startled Pisces enough to make her move from his lap.

"Pi!" he exclaimed. "I was an experiment." She meowed. "If I was made into this, I can be turned back, right? If I can just track down that fucking—"

"Jisoo, who are you talking to?"

Joshua slammed his laptop shut and jerked his head to the open bedroom door.

"Mom," he greeted, hearing the name jump to his throat. "Hi. Glad to see you've picked up the habit of knocking."

"I created you I don't need to knock to get your attention. Who were you talking to?"

Joshua swallowed and tried to look casual leaning against his desk chair. "Pisces."

"... Pisces."

"Yeah. She has feelings too, mom, you gotta talk to her sometimes."

"Usually, I just meow at her," Mrs Hong replied.

"Well, that's why she doesn't like you. You're making a mockery of her language."

"Okay, well, as soon as you've finished playing favourites with an animal without opposable thumbs, we're having dinner together tonight."

As much as he loves spending time with his dear mom and dad, Joshua's heart started to sink slightly. He's practically bubbling with the adrenaline at the thought of fixing his little predicament that the idea of sitting at a dinner table for an hour made him feel like a tightly wound net was keeping him still. 

"Do you have the time?" he asked.

Mrs Hong nods, her stylish hair bobbing at her chin. "I took the afternoon off, they didn't need me at the firm. Your father and I are cooking." 

Joshua hummed in response. "Cool, I'll pencil you in." His fingers patterned mindlessly over the case of his computer.

Mrs Hong looked at her son. "Are you feeling okay?" She wondered in and pressed her hand to Joshua's forehead. "You're quite warm."

"I'm fine," he responded quickly. He was getting a little bored of saying that every five minutes. "Just came out of the bath." 

"You came home in quite the rush earlier. Did something happen at the pool?"

Joshua pulled the best quizzical face he could muster (he deserved an Oscar) and shook his head. "No, it was normal."

Wrong answer. He can't go back, why didn't he just say yes and weasel his way into quitting without question. Joshua seemed to have a knack for his hard situations being harder.

"Well, if you're up to eating with us, it'll be ready in five."

Joshua nodded again and smiled at her as she kissed his head. Pieces jumped from his desk and he heard his mother respond to her meow as she exited down the hallway. How is he going to tell his mom about this? She was fine with a gay son, but a gay mermaid son? That's a lot to ask of any parent. He'd rather have to birds and the bees talk than start the 'I-got-turned-into-a-mythical-creature' conversation. His mom and dad loved him, he knew that, but every time he thought of telling him, or even, telling Jihoon, the fear of a sick-stricken look of disgust across their faces quelled any thought of coming clean.

Jihoon.

Knowing his boyfriend, Jihoon would think he was joking unless Joshua jumped into the pool right in front of him. Even then, he'd get out a scalpel and a pair of scissors and try and find his legs underneath the scales. Jihoon was a sceptic - he didn't believe in ghosts, demons, he didn't think a zombie apocalypse was possible and he, as proven, didn't believe in mermaids. Despite how much evidence Joshua showed him, he didn't believe in deep-sea mysteries either but Joshua thought Jihoon might just be biased. Joshua needed to stop the facade that everything was fine before it got too out of hand before it got too late to tell them and he ruined everything he's spent the last twenty-one years of his life building. 

I'll do it soon. Joshua told himself over again. I just have to figure out why this happened first.

He hesitated to leave his desk chair and swiftly reopened his laptop. He opened another tab next on the right and tapped shift as he considered: how do fish have sex?

He quickly closed the tab and cleared his history, just as his mother called him for dinner.

*

"And then the bitch had the audacity to ask to speak to my manager like she was going to get a different answer." Yejin shook her head and piled the last of her pasta sauce to fork it up. The badge still pinned to her blouse front, reading her English name Amy, had a dripping of bolognese over it. "It took all my strength to not throw the damn toaster at her myself."

Jihoon shook his head as he cleaned up the remnants of the spaghetti with a torn piece of flatbread. "That fact that you've lasted this long and haven't committed murder, let alone quit, is astounding to me." Family dinners usually followed this pattern: cramped in the adequately sized ten feet by twelve feet kitchen in their single floored home, the three siblings would gather over the fruitful dinner made by whoever's turn it was, and wait for their go and talk about their day. Today, Seokmin found an excellent Spongebob voice reader in his IT class and Yejin had dealt with three difficult customers at both of her jobs. 

"You know I always pride myself on my patience," Yejin responded and Seokmin snorted into his coke.

"That is the last thing you pride yourself on," Seokmin said, "considering you have none of it." 

Jihoon couldn't help but laugh as Yejin gapes at him.

"I do too!" she insisted.

"Remember when you kicked the DVD player because the previews were taking too long on Pochahontas?"

"I was nine! You were a baby, you don't even remember that!"

Jihoon finished his flatbread. "Remember when you left me at seven years old in the tree when we were playing hide and seek because you got bored of looking?"

"Listen, I didn't come home from dealing with people all day to be attacked by my own family."

"Hey, Jihoon, remember when—"

"No, he doesn't! Jihoon how was your day!"

After the bouts of laughter subsided Jihoon placed his cutlery on his plate and considered his day in his head.

"Let's see," he began. "Jaehyun made me dissect his fish because he got squeamish today. Joshua decided to go to swimming practice."

"So soon?" Yejin asked. "Is he okay?"

Jihoon shrugged. He'd spent the better part of the entire day wondering if he was okay that it tired him out just to think about it. His eyes flashed to his upturned phone next to him and he squeezed his hands in his lap to stop himself from picking it up. Joshua wasn't a child, but Jihoon just felt like he needed to check on him. A horrible feeling has settled over him since the minute Joshua was found last week. It was some twisted feeling of relief, obviously, that his boyfriend hadn't died, but also a sense of helplessness, one that he was too exhausted to fight, so much so that it consumed him in a feeling of completeness. Almost someone else he had lost to water. Almost someone else ripped cruelly from his life by this unstoppable force that surrounded him from all angles. Jihoon had spent so much time crying about what the ocean had taken from him that there was almost no fight left in him.

"Seemed it," he answered and most annoyingly, it did. Joshua seemed fine and Jihoon was almost angry that he didn't see the severity of what happened the same way he did. Jihoon had never understood Joshua's affinity with the ocean, or with water for that matter. He knew his dad, who owned several slips in the marina with a handful of vessels to occupy them, had taken him out on the water at a young age and he knew Joshua kept a pile of children's books on ocean species and deep-sea mysteries tucked under his bed. (He also knew the only superhero Joshua had any sort of interest in was Aquaman, which, first of all, why? And second of all, was not at all surprising.) But to love the vast, unexplored, horrifying space that was the ocean was a mystery to Jihoon. Maybe it was the explorer in his boyfriend that wanted to see what the other seven billion on the planet couldn't, or maybe Joshua was just weird.

"That is strange," Seokmin said and it was left at that.

"Anything else happen today?" Yejin asked. She complies Seokmin and her dirty plates and passes them to Jihoon, who settles them on top of his own. If Yejin cooked that meant Jihoon cleaned and Seokmin could spend his evening doing whatever it was seventeen year old's do at seven p.m.

"I talked to my tutor," Jihoon began and instantly regretted even thinking of bringing it up. "We talk about placement for my third year."

An unspoken tension settled over the kitchen. Jihoon swore he saw Yejin falter and then take a breath. He knew where this was going to go, he didn't even know why he brought it up - it wasn't going to happen. 

"Oh yeah?" she pressed. To her credit, she extended the courtesy of at least listening because as much as their situation sucked, Jihoon knew it wasn't her fault. It wasn't any of their faults: they'd been left as young kids in the world, Yejin barely old enough to support her brothers, but did it anyway with minimal savings from their parents to back them up. Everything Jihoon and Seokmin had she had worked to get them, not wanting his baby brother's to bear the brunt of a torn-up family in the slightest. Jihoon knew Yejin would always be his hero for that. "What did they say?"

"There's a couple of openings at the conservation site down in Long Beach," he answered. His face felt hot from the shame of even having to talk about it, from how he knew his sister would go to bed feeling guilty because it was yet again another thing she couldn't pay for. "Some on scholarship, which I could go for." In reality, he knew he wouldn't. He didn't even have a chance of qualifying. "But, you know, it's still almost a whole year away so..." he trails off and scratches at the plate engraving. The set was their mother's favourites. "No need to decide now."

That evening, Seokmin lay above Jihoon in the top bunk, the hand just dangling over the edge. Usually, Jihoon would find endless hilarity in using a pencil to trace over his younger brother's palm and make him wake with a start, or even draw something over his knuckles in permanent marker but tonight he just couldn't bring himself to.

Yejin knocked on their door and beckoned him into the living room.

"I'm sorry about dinner," Jihoon started the moment their bedroom door was shut. "I don't know why—"

"No, Jihoon," Yejin interrupted. She pat the old sofa next to her and Jihoon settled easily into her comfort. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for Aims," he said. By now she'd discarded her lifeless uniform and wrapped herself in her fluffy dressing gown and her comically cliche rabbit slippers. Just a face mask and a cup of cocoa and she'd look like she stepped out from a Bratz sleepover special. Jihoon's cheek tickled as he rest her head on her shoulder and caught the scent of her shower gel: coconut butter, just like mom used it. "I shouldn't have even brought it up."

"I'm going to the bank tomorrow. If you can talk something out with one of the administrators, I'm sure we could put something in—"

"I don't want to."

Yejin's fingers stopped over Jihoon's head. "You don't?"

It was a lie. Jihoon's heart started hammering at the idea of a chance but he pushed it down until he was sure the thrum of it could be felt in his stomach. "I don't. Not if it's going to be a burden."

Yejin shook her head and smiled, the fake one she did when he wanted to soften the blow of bad news. Jihoon knew it well. "It won't be a burden."

"I'm not Seok," Jihoon said and Yejin's smile dropped as her eyes did. "I know."

He knew. He knew Yejin tried to hide the rising bills from him and bought the barely in date reduced food from the market. He knew they couldn't afford to buy Seokmin those headphones but he'd aced his SATs and he honestly really needed something to block out Jihoon's snoring with. She bore the brunt of a torn-up family and Jihoon would lay down and die before he makes it worse for her. 

"Jun's place has a spot opening. I'm gonna ask him for it."

"Ji, you're already so overwhelmed," Yejin said.

"I'll live." Two jobs and a college workload - living was an overstatement. "We'll manage."

"Are you sure? Passing the placement up, I mean—"

"It's not mandatory," Jihoon said with a weak smile. "And hey, if I graduate a year early, that means freedom quicker, right?"

Yejin reached over and squeezed Jihoon's hand and he squeezed back. "I'm sure we will manage.

Chapter Text

If Joshua didn't know any better, he'd call himself crazy.

Well, frankly, he does know himself, and he was, in fact, crazy. He zipped up his wetsuit and pushed down the accelerator on the small, rubber dinghy, driving his tiny boat out to sea. Naturally, after the incident, Joshua's sailing boat that his father bought him was totalled, and he didn't trust himself enough to man the family one on his own yet, thus the procuration of the small, life-boat like vessel from his dad's collection. If Jihoon knew where he was or, dare he say it, know what he was up to, he'd blow his top, and probably break up and sue Joshua for the impending stress-induced coma he would fall into. But Joshua needed to do this, he had to find that man, that strange, horrible man who turned him into this. And the island he washed up on was the only place he could think to start with.

The coast was a lot busier than on the night of the storm - L.A had a nearly year-round tourist population, the beaches of Santa Monica, Malibu and beyond heavy with a constant throng of visitors, but Joshua noticed how the sea-faring crowd thinned the further north-west he sailed. Soon, he could spot barely anyone other than a few lone fisheries and surfers bobbing out along the waves. 

To call the island that emerged into view an island was stretching it. It was more like a dwarfed archipelago of rocks, curving into a spiral with a tall, funnel-shaped rock as the centrepiece. Joshua spotted the side which he crawled onto during the storm and saw it was much too small now to dock and climb ashore. Without getting wet, that is. Though Joshua supposes so far out to sea, if he dipped in and quickly jumped out, no one would notice his new affliction, and if they did, chalk it up to some good ol' Hollywood magic. (Joshua can't count the number of times he'd seen something weird down in Hollywood and found out later there's a new HBO show being filmed.) He'd rather not though, and so swung the boat around, circling the rest of the rocks to see if there was a more easily accessible route.

At the opposite end of the scattering, a thin, low inclined rock sat semi emerged from the water just wide enough for his dinghy to sit comfortably, and Joshua evaluated a route from there, up along a narrow ledge, connecting to the entrance he was dragged into the other night. He took desperate care, pushing the boat forward slowly, jarring it onto the rock and exhales as it sat contentedly away from the water sloshing just below. He jumped out, careful not to slip and after a short pep-talk getting himself worked up to it, jumped from one slanted rock to the next until he was clamouring along with the increasingly steeping mounts. The pads of his fingers started to bleed from the pressure of holding on, and his arms quivered with the power of holding himself flush against the cold wet stone. Nonetheless, he reached his destination with exhausting triumph, falling back against the jagged rocks and he inhaled and exhaled with passion. He knew it was a bad idea to miss out on Scouts as a kid, maybe he would've learned a thing or two about rock climbing then. 

Bringing himself to his feet Joshua sighed and watched the Californian coast for a moment. It was late afternoon, approaching evening, past the peak hours of popularity on the beach but Joshua could still spot hundreds, upon thousands of tiny dots representing people along the shore. His mom was never one to enact curfews on her one and only son, being twenty-one years of age and still living at home (for convenience, he could move out if he wanted to... maybe), but he'd noticed a greater concern for his whereabouts as of late and insisted he calls at least every couple of hours no matter where or what he was doing; and if he is to be spending the night at their family home, he be back by eleven. He was not surprised by this. Everyone in his life has been keeping an eye on him now, Jihoon possibly the worst offender of this. He lied to him again about where he'd be this evening, saying he wanted to try and swim at the pool, a habit which was becoming frighteningly easy for Joshua and one he'd been repeating over the last couple of days. Joshua's boyfriend had an exterior, anyone would notice, one of shallow shyness, cold, unengaging unfriendliness, but it didn't take too long for Joshua to crack that shell and leave Jihoon wide open and exposed for his indulgence. In fact, in an odd way, Joshua was proud that he did it, and didn't take Jihoon initial uninterest in a romance between them at face value. An unlikely event had caused their collision and an even unlikelier feat (Joshua managing to get Jihoon to agree to a date) pushed them closer. They were young, barely fifteen and sixteen, but Joshua was sure he'd never see a boy in the same way he'd see Jihoon again. 

With a long, dreaded sigh Joshua turned towards the harrowing cave entrance. If he can't fix this now, how is he ever going to tell Jihoon? He has to fix this. This can't be the way his life goes. He takes a deep breath and heads in.

*

"Not to, you know, sound too judgemental Jihoon, but how are you going to work here?"

Jihoon stood in front of Jun, still with the slight stench of fish on him and shook his head. Still, he smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean," Jun dried a glass and slipped it back on the shelf with its companions, then using the rag to wipe down the surface top. "You're not exactly the biggest fan of being near the ocean - how you gonna fare working right next to it." 

Jihoon faltered slightly. Come on, aquaphobia isn't that big of a deal, it hardly impedes on his ability to stack coffee cups. "I promise you it won't be an issue."

Jun sighed. "I'd love to help you out Jihoon, but I'm worried about you." He glances to his left, and Jihoon spots Jieqiong sipping on a herbal tea, doing her worst impression of someone not eavesdropping. "Just being you doing college full time, and that trip coming up we know you're worried about-" 

"I'm not worried about it."

"-And the whole stress with Joshua... I just don't want to add to that stress."

"It won't be stress at all, I'm a very adaptable person. I'm great for customer service, I'm incredibly approachable."

Jun smiled and looked at Jihoon with fondness. "I'll talk to my mom. There's gonna be something part-time opening up soon."

"Anything full time?"

"Full-" Jun looks at him in disbelief. "You want full-time? Yeah, uh also? Hermione called, she wants her magical necklace back."

"It's called a time-turner. Look, Jun," Jihoon leaned in against the counter. "I really need something, something fast. Yejin's behind on payments for the house, everyday Seokmin needs something new for the school, and I need to seriously start looking at getting a placement for my third year, which is just gonna set us back more. I'll do all the odd jobs you don't want to do, clean the toilets, scrape the old food from inside the dishwasher, anything." He gives the best eyes he can manage. "Please."

"Why don't you ask Joshua for some help. I'm sure-"

"I'm not asking Joshua." Jihoons cheeks flooded with heat at the idea. "He's done way too much for me already," he stammers. "I can't ask him for money."

Jun sighed, an unspoken understanding behind his nod. "Okay, I'll ask, but I'm not promising anything."

Jihoon closes his eyes and holdings his hands over his chest. "Thank you. You have no idea how important this is."

"Oh, I do. You just spent ten minutes begging me for it."

"You will not regret it."

"I know that. Now, can I get you a drink or are you just gonna waste more of my time?" Jun smiled despite the biting remark.

"Cappuccino, please." Instantly, Jihoon brings his phone out and texts Joshua:

Just talked to Jun, he says he's gonna talk to Mrs Wen about a job for me!

He slung his school bag down and took a seat next to Jieqiong, who finally acknowledged him formally rather than peering over her phone in his direction. 

"How's Joshua?" was the first thing she asks, and he's glad she'd chosen anything other than himself to talk about.

"He's good, adjusting badly to being bored of course."

"Not surprised. He always was such a loser for training. You know when I first met him, I was surprised he was as down to earth as he was, I expected him to be much more snobby about swimming, like Paris in season 1 of Gilmore Girls." Jieqiong took a long drink, finishing her cup. 

"No, no Paris. More of a Rory, main character syndrome."

She giggled. "Well, we miss him at training nonetheless."

Jihoon stopped short, just about to bring his own cup to his lips. "What?"

"Well, we're all glad he's not setting new records every other day, but he brings this certain aroma to the pool, like we all should be ashamed for not practising as hard, but not in a negative way. You know what I mean?"

Jihoon blinked. Joshua was meant to be there right now, where he was meant to be for the past couple of days too. He checked his phone quickly, seeing his message has been sent but not delivered. Joshua's phone was off. He always left it on silent at practice, but not off.

"Are you okay?" Jieqiong asked, resting a hand on Jihoon's shoulder. 

"Yeah, no. I'm fine." He forced a smile, but even he can tell that Jieqiong wasn't buying it. "I forgot I promised Seokmin with his homework. I gotta run." He jumped down from his stool, collecting his back and putting down a five-dollar bill. "Have my Cappucino for me." Without looking back he headed down the street towards the canals, finding a quiet spot along the way to speed dial Joshua's number. Straight to voice mail. He tried not to panic. Why would Joshua have his phone off? He calls again and tries not to panic, this time leaving a short, curt voicemail.

"It's me." He takes a couple of deep breathes before he says, "Just calling to check-in. Checking you didn't forget we're gonna have dinner later. Okay. Love you. Bye." He hangs up quickly and clutches his phone with such ferocity he considers it might snap in half. What if his phone is broken, what if he got into an accident and no one knows where he is. Again. Not again. This can't happen again. 

Panic starts to bubble past the blockage in Jihoon's throat. His eyes dampen, and his heart beats so fast it's like it wants to be heard in New Mexico. Joshua will be fine, he says to himself. He's had enough bad luck in the past two weeks to have another catastrophic incident like this. Like what? Boat crash, car crash, a freak accident where a palm tree collapses right onto his bedroom - Jihoon's always said that tree right outside his house swayed a little too much when it was windy. Why didn't the Hong family invest and take it down, like, three years ago? With all that money you'd think-

Jihoon's phone started to buzz in his hand. He almost dropped it before he slides it open and presses it to his ear.

*

"Hi, honey." Joshua's eyes were squeezed closed, waiting for the incoming tirade, the scolding, the unleashing of the eleventh, forgotten plague of Egypt where Jihoon gives him an earful for having his phone off.

"Josh." Jihoon tried to disguise it, but Joshua can hear the way he exhales. "Hi."

"Sorry I missed your call babe." He bit his lip, wishing he could wrap Jihoon up in his arms. He could see now, the way Jihoon's hands would shake, slick with sweat the more and more he panicked. "My phone lost charge." Joshua hated how easy it was to lie to Jihoon now. 

"Oh, right." Jihoon cleared his throat. "You worried me."

"I'm sorry, love."

"Did you hear the voice mail I left you?"

Yes. "No, didn't get a chance to. We still on for dinner tonight?"

"Hmhm. I know we said we'd go out, but why don't I cook for you? I just learned this great creamy mushroom chicken recipe from Jaehyun - really easy."

Joshua smiled and kicked a rock around a shallow pool. "Jihoon, I don't mind paying tonight, you know?"

"I know, I just... don't feel like getting dressed up and going out. Plus, Seokmin's staying over with a friend and Yejin's working late, so it'll be quiet."

Joshua didn't miss the hint that crept into Jihoon's voice. He hums. "Is that so?"

"Maybe that's so."

Joshua chuckled. "So, Jun's place?"

"Yeah!" There was more of a brightness to Jihoon's voice now, and Joshua felt a little less guilty. "He's gonna talk to his mom and see if they can put me up full time."

"Wow, that's great, I'm glad!" 

"Yeah, no I'm excited." 

There was a lull, a sharp, stinging silence, where Joshua knew both of them had something to say. 

"Listen, I need to head off, but what time should I head for yours?"

Jihoon was quiet for a moment. "Around seven? Eight?"

"I can do eight."

"Cool. Okay, then."

"Okay, then."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"No, you don't. Shut up, bye." 

The line cut off and Joshua slumped against the harsh rock wall. He felt bile bubble into his throat, enough to make him dizzy and queasy. He hated it, hated lying to Jihoon with every fibre of his being. And what's worse, is that he had a feeling Jihoon knew. He's never been able to keep secrets, especially from his boyfriend. He knew him inside and out and it felt like he was sacrificing his soul to the devil each time another lie spilt from his lips. He wanted all of this to go away, he wanted to go back to swimming and Jihoon to go back to science and they'd live their young, wild, and free lives together without lies and deceit and one of them having a fucking tail for legs.

Joshua pushed himself up and looked around the cave, his cheeks flooding with warmth as the sob scratched into his throat. Everything was gone. The desk, the pinboards, the scatterings of papers and lamps and the mattress in the far corner was all gone. Only the shimmering, sapphire-blue pool remained from his memory, glistening and taunting him with its eerie stillness. With a broken exhale, Joshua fell into a crouched position and hugged his knees. He sobbed loudly, carelessly, hot tears pouring down his face, his stomach twisting into knots and his chest tightening like a noose. His only lead was gone. How was he supposed to find the scientist now? How was he meant to fix this? How could he ever swim again? The answer was that he wouldn't. He couldn't. He won't.

He sobbed until his throat was sore, and he cried until he had no tears left. By then, the sun had begun to sink down behind the horizon and the rose quartz sky was merging into purple, into black over the east. He took a long, shaky inhale and wiped the tear stains from his cheeks before turning around and leaving out the way he came. There, outside, on the jagged rocks, he sat once again, jeans soaked through with dampness, but Joshua contemplated past it. If this was his life now, he had to adjust to it. That meant quitting the swim team, forgetting about regionals, forgetting nationals, forgetting the Olympics. He'd have to get a job - maybe Jun could help him - and he'd have to move out of his parent's house, from shame if not from anything else. What was he going to tell people? His parents? They'd know something was seriously wrong if he gave up swimming. And his coach! Coach Park would rather skin him alive than see her best swimmer walk away. At least then Jeonghan would get a shot at being the star swimmer. Jihoon, at the very least, would stop asking if Joshua didn't answer his questions but that felt almost worse than lying to him now. He'd have to run away, there was no other option. Pack a bag, take Pisces, and run away to New York, work in a cafe and get severely into debt until he eventually died of sanitation-related health issues, since the city itself is one great sewer (his Californian lungs blood wasn't meant for it).

Realistically, Joshua knew he would never leave, but that left him with very little else he could do. He couldn't leave Jihoon, certainly not emotionally, and certainly not physically, because he's sure Jihoon would follow him anyway. Jihoon would-

Joshua gasped to no one as he shot up. He checked his watch: seven-fifteen! Fuck. He began to shimmy himself along the rough rocks again, towards his dinghy, until he leapt off and realised- 

The dinghy was gone. Through the depleting light, Joshua squinted and searched and saw nothing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That's it. His relationship was over. Jihoon was gonna break up with him and then kill him for the fun of it. And that creamy chicken sounded incredible. Fuck!

Joshua planted his hands on his hips and sighed, evaluating the distance from here to the shore. It was four, maybe four and a half miles. Joshua hummed. What he was considering would be a very big job-he'd not even swam that distance in a pool with his human legs, let alone his fish bottoms. He sighed and kicked off his shoes nonetheless. But... where would he-Oh, never mind. He slipped his shoes back on. Whatever. He just needed to get home, and then get to Jihoon. He shook his limbs out, warming them up. Did fins need to be exercised? If so, that opens up the possibility of some fish being more physically fit than others. Are there fish athletes? Is there a fish-lympics? He's stalling. Stop being a baby and-

Joshua leapt into the ocean. The waters were icy, chilling him to the bone but instantly, the transformation warmed him to his core. He brought his head to the surface for a moment to find his bearings and glanced below the murky sea. The shimmering blue and yellow winked at him in the dying sun and Joshua allowed himself a second to admire it, before he was overcome with a wash of hatred for what it symbolises. With a scowl, he dove back under the waves and waited for the tail to do... something? Did it have a life of its own? Joshua remembered his bath and his brain sent the message to his non-existent legs to curl his toes. In response, once again, the fin curled in its place. Joshua folded over and thought about kicking his legs, the exact same way he did when he swam, but instead, the tail creased at the centre, just by where his knees would be, and rippled out, flapping in a distinctly fish-like motion and propelling him forward.

"Huh," Joshua muttered before a panic hand slapped over his mouth. Only then did he realise he wasn't holding his breath, at all, being able to take several deep breaths in and not... well, and not die. It's like the water passed his lips, into his mouths and then evaporated. He touched his throat and suddenly jerked his hand away, before returning his fingers there with a tentative stroke. Three slits cut deep into his neck on either side. He took a breath in and felt a gust of water rush out. Gills. He has fucking gills. What next, a pitchfork and a crown?

Trying to move again Joshua turned so that his stomach faced the ocean floor, so dark and deep that Joshua couldn't even see it. However, he noted, he could see a lot more than he should, what would be dark blue and murky appearing more light and sky shaded, like the tail affected his eyesight in some way. Perfect. It's not like he liked his body the way it was. Hesitantly, Joshua thought about kicking his legs again, letting his brain send the motion to his tail and he swam an inch forward like he was really swimming. It came surprisingly natural, just like it always had and Joshua had a strange feeling dawn on him that this is what he was always meant for. 

He moved a lot faster with a tail than he did with legs, which was saying something as the prized swimmer of his club. He didn't have to focus on his breathing, nor his arms - he barely had to think about his legs, the flipping of his tail taking much less effort than usual. He found he had quite a knack for it, and as he came towards the Malibu coast he considered the best route to get to Jihoon's. He could pull himself onto a quiet bit of a beach and wait to turn back, but that meant getting all the way from Malibu to the Marina to East L.A, which would take more than two hours at this time of day. He could always go from the Marina Del Rey, but that would still take an hour, and even harder to find a place to get dry. Then again, if he could find his dad's sailing boat, he could climb inside and hide out, but either way, unless he swam to Jihoon's door, he would be late. He curses himself and puts more power into his swim. Stupid tail, why doesn't it go faster!

As he approached the entrance to the Marina, boats still floating in and out, he tested how deep he could get himself, way out of eyesight from the surface, and swam his way to the furthest, quietest tip he could manage. There, right by small albeit might family boat, he pulled himself onto the jeti, flopping about uselessly about until he felt the stiffness of his legs come back to him, like they were waking up from a long sleep. Joshua couldn't help the feeling of adrenaline wash off him too, like when you step out of a car after a long journey, and instantly wish to be moving at a faster speed again. He stood, albeit shakily and decided he was best sitting for a while until the inevitable sickness of transforming back to a human settled. When he felt like he could function without vertigo for more than a minute, and feeling around his suddenly dry coat for his phone and other belongings, he ran for it.

Maybe he could still make it in time.

*

Joshua was late. Almost so late that Jihoon was shocked.

"My, my. This is a sight for sore eyes."

Joshua procured a bunch of flowers from behind his back. His hair was still damp and he was sweating as if he ran here, but he still smiled like it would make all of Jihoon's troubles go away. "You won't believe the effort I went through for these flowers."

"What, did you run to Colorado to get them?" Jihoon took them and sniffed them anyway. "Hm, come in then."

"I'm sorry I'm late, baby." Joshua caught Jihoon's waist before he turned into the house and planted a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. "I promise I'll make it up to you." 

Jihoon willed the slight blush on his cheeks to leave. "Oh, you will."

They sat down and ate and by defacto, Joshua was made to wash, dry and put away the dishes, and rub Jihon's shoulders for all his hard work cooking (which wasn't asked for, Joshua just realised he yearned for to touch Jihoon's skin and would have any excuse to pull him into his lap for a cuddle). They sat on the sofa and watched re-runs of Law and Order and Jihoon was so wrapped up in how normal and real this felt that he almost couldn't bring himself to call Joshua out. 

"So, what did you get up to today?" Jihoon began softly. "You never really said." He didn't miss the way Joshua's shoulders tensed and then relaxed obviously like he was trying to make a point.

"I went swimming. Nothing really to say about it really. How was school?" They were seated like there wasn't enough space on the three-man sofa for them, Jihoon as close as he possibly could get to Joshua, sitting parallel to him with his legs swung over Joshua's lap. He reached up and thread his fingers through Joshua's hair, not as soft as usual, but dry and frazzled like he hadn't washed it in a while.

"Did you swim at the club?" 

Joshua cleared his throat. "No, why?"

"Where did you swim?"

"Why are you so bothered, you're not usually this nosy?" Joshua tried to laugh it off, but his face fell when he saw Jihoon's seriousness.

"Just that I saw Jieqiong at Jun's today. She said you hadn't been to practise since the accident."

Joshua then looked away and Jihoon knew that he had him. 

"You've been telling me that where you've been."

Joshua looked nothing short of embarrassed and Jihoon hated being the cause. But he didn't want to be lied to, it made him feel worse than he ever wish to make Joshua feel.

"I'm sorry, I-" Joshua tried to start his sentence over, then sighed. "I have no excuse, I lied."

Jihoon sat to attention. "Why?"

"I..." Joshua was fighting a battle behind his eyes, and Jihoon's heart hurt watching it.

"I'm not mad," he reassured because he really wasn't. "I just... want to know."

Joshua looked at him again, his eyes damp and throat bobbing as he swallowed. "You're way too good to me."

"Josh," Jihoon picked up Joshua's face in his hands. "Trust me, I know." He smiled as Joshua spluttered a laugh. "What's wrong."

"I was embarrassed to go back to the club. I've been... going to public swimming pool somedays, other days I go to the beach and try swimming in the ocean."

Jihoon chewed his lip. "Try?"

"I..." Joshua took a long breath in. "I'm struggling... swimming. Going into the water."

All of a sudden it crashed on Jihoon. "Oh," he said. "Oh. Josh." He took his hands in his. "That's okay."

"It's not, I-"

"Trust me, it is. I promise that's okay." A dark, ashamed part of Jihoon was glad that Joshua understood now, in a way he never could. He feared water too. The water took something from him too. "It's okay."

"I can't swim again." Joshua's voice was barely above a whisper and it crushed Jihoon's heart into a million pieces. "If I don't have swimming, I-"

"Hey. You have me." Jihoon picked up Joshua's face in his hands and made him look at him. "I know that seems like it's the smallest thing in the world right now to need, but you have me, okay? And this fear, we'll work through it together. You're way too handsome to not be a world-famous athlete. We can always try baseball."

Joshua laughed again and wiped his hand across his cheek. "Thank you, Jihoon."

"You've got nothing to thank me for." Jihoon kissed him then, tender and sweet like it was the first time he'd ever gotten to kiss him. In fact, their first time was much more frantic, teeth knocking together, one too many bitten tongues. This was gentle, this was all the care and the love that Jihoon had for Joshua wrapped up into a single, long, calm kiss. Joshua pulled away after a moment, and slid his hand up to Jihoon's cheek, mirroring his action. His large hand cupped Jihoon's narrow face easily, and he stroked his thumb over his cheekbone before that same hand slid down to the nape of Jihoon's neck and he pulled him again.

This kiss was deeper, more yearning, more desperation as Joshua pushed against Jihoon hard, and Jihoon pushed back with much more force. They broke for a second, and Joshua adjusted the way he was sat to be able to kneel against the sofa, lifting himself an inch higher than Jihoon and threading both hands into his hair. Jihoon's hands found Joshua's waist, and their kisses moved from a moulding of their lips to the slip of their tongues, Joshua pressing his weight against Jihoon so that he fell back against the sofa, sitting comfortably between this legs. He kissed him hard, and harder, breath catching the more Jihoon pulled him in deeper, and deeper. Jihoon wrapped his arms around Joshua's neck, one leg sliding up his thigh and bringing the latter's body down on his with a thud. He hummed into their embrace, feeling the way Joshua slowly moved their bodies together, friction and electricity making Jihoon arch his back and moan quietly.

Joshua stopped then, suddenly, and hovered over Jihoon, looking at him with his large, sparkling eyes.

"Are you okay?" Jihoon breathed] and Joshua nodded firmly.

"I love you," he whispered, and the concern on Jihoon's face melted into happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness.

"Yeah?"

Joshua laughed. "What kind of response is 'yeah?'"

"I love you, too." Jihoon smiled, this time coyly. "Now come and remind me why."

Joshua needed no second invitation. He already received one, RSVP'd and showed up for the party. He attached his lips back onto Jihoon's passionately and his hands found a better use in gripping Jihoon's thighs, hoisting him up so they say snugly around his hips.

"You sure you can handle that?"

"Oh, shut your mouth and put it to good use."

Joshua smiled. "How lucky I am to have you."

*

Joshua didn't know the time, he just knew that hours had passed since Jihoon's breathing had settled into a dreamy, rhythmic lull, his chest rising and falling in tandem. They were curled into Jihoon's single bottom bunk, which creaked every time Joshua even moved his head. Of course, he much preferred to be spooning Jihoon in his big king-sized at home, but he won't lie and say the closeness was one of Joshua's favourite ways to sleep. Usually, it was, but tonight, Joshua wanted to push Jihoon away and curl up in his own, disgusting little ball, cry and curse himself and never be seen again. He'd lied-no, he'd done worse. He'd deceived Jihoon in the foulest way imaginable. The words were right on his tongue.

"I can't swim... because I have a tail." But he stopped. He was a coward, he lied and claimed for himself one of Jihoon's deepest, darkest fears. He exploited it, used it to hide his own secrets. And he hated himself for it. 

Jihoon looked so perfect bathed in the moonlight. The breeze blew slightly outside, sirens and cars speeding off into the distance, and if Joshua closed his eyes, he could imagine how the ocean would sound. A curse, a terrible, forsaken ocean that's taken his life and washed it upon the rocks, tearing it into a million, jagged little pieces. He can never tell Jihoon now, he knows it, he's spun his web too far, to come back now would be too painful, for both of them. He couldn't break Jihoon's heart like that. He wished he could run, wished he could bear to leave him behind, but Joshua loved Jihoon way too much. 

Joshua brought a hand up and rested it on Jihoon's shoulder. He lay his head down and willed his brain to shut off, to sleep. He managed a handful of minutes of peace until he heard the strangest sound.

It sounded like his name. 

With a slight start, he sat up and looked towards the window. The moon poured in, the curtains open but the window only open at the top. Joshua heard the sounds of the city replaced by the wash of the shore, waves crashing onto the sand and rolling back to the deep. He stared, swearing the moon rippled like it was a reflection on the sea, and he heard it again. His name, spoken like a chime, like wind passing through leaves.  Someone was calling him, or, at least, something. His sent chills down his spine, make the skin on his arms stand up straight. It came again, growing louder, more impatient and Joshua felt his heart hammer in his chest. It grew louder, more frequent, like an orchestra of nature rising to the crescendo: waves, wind, chimes, waves, wind, chimes, until slam!

The door to the house slammed closed, and there was silence. Gently, Joshua lowered himself back down by Jihoon, pressing his body close, feeling the comfort seep back into his tense limbs. Through the crack in the bedroom door, Joshua heard keys being dropped into the counter dish, the swish of coats being hung on the rack and the figure of Yejin, Amy, Jihoon's older sister passing as he headed to her own bedroom down the hall. Her door fell shut and Joshua was back in the quiet, the sirens and the engines seeping back in.

He willed his heart to slow and found, then, it was almost too easy to fall asleep

Chapter Text

Joshua hesitated outside the automatic doors, which slid open and hissed closed with anticipation every time he twitched. He could smell the chlorine from the lobby, and as his fist tightened around the strap of his tote bag, he found the confidence to wander in. He smiled at the old lady who manned the front desk every Friday, and stumbled as he stopped by the vending machine before he remembered he didn’t need to buy a protein bar every morning anymore because, well, he wasn’t exactly an athlete now, was he? He pushed his way through the swinging double doors to the familiar, sleek, sky blue tiles that covered the walls of the locker room, and power walked past his team to avoid meeting their eyes. They talked, as they usually did, every morning about their diets and their P.Bs and just how excited they were for Regionals. Joshua’s heart panged with every squeaking step.

“Coach?” Joshua knocked hesitantly, pushing his head an inch into the ajar office door.

Coach Kahi sat at her desk, legs kicked up in a Sue Sylvester-type tracksuit as he barked some orders down the phone at some poor, unsuspecting pool hand.

“I don’t care if he’s in San Diego, I need him to deliver the fucking pool floats! I have champions to train, you hear me.” The most formidable swim coach in the county slammed the phone down hard enough to crack the receiver and motioned for Joshua to take a seat in front of her desk. “I was wondering when you’d show up again. Did you think a near-death experience would exempt you from practice?”

Joshua smiled sadly. “Well, coach, about that. I came here—”

“I suppose I should ask you how you are, really? How’s that leg holding up? Can you still front stroke fast enough yet?”

Faster, actually. Joshua cleared his throat. “I think so, but—”

She interrupted again. “Honestly? A week off was too much. I can see from here your cheeks are getting chubby again.” Joshua subconsciously sucked on his tongue, hallowing out his face. “Why are you sitting here? Why aren’t you swimming?”

“Well—”

“And why are you here so late? You know practice is at six-thirty and it is almost—”

“I quit!”

Joshua felt the silence between them thicken with tension.

“You what?” Kahi stared at him, her sharp eyes pointed into a frown.

“Coach… I can’t swim anymore.” His heart hammered into his ribcage, so hard he thought - nay, knew with her superhuman bat talents - that Kahi could hear it.

“Why? What’s wrong with you?”

Joshua scoffed defeatedly and shrugged. “I-I don’t know.”

“Well, figure it out.”

“It’s… not quite as simple—”

“I’ll chalk this up to you having knocked your head on some rocks. Have the weekend, come back Monday.” Kahi turned her eyes to her paperwork, a sign that the conversation was over, but Joshua knew that this was it.

“Coach,” he began, and her eyes snapped back to him with a poisonous glare. As opened his mouth to speak, his throat grew thick, his jaw locked and he felt the stabbing of tears from behind his eyes. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat of any possible crack of his voice, and said. “I can’t swim. Not ‘I don’t want to,’ or ‘I won’t,’… I can’t.”

Kahi, for a second, seemed to soak the information in. Then she leaned forward on her desk, hands posed in a triangle, fingers touching her mouth. “Joshua, do you know what my job is?”

Joshua frowned. “To… coach me?”

“To push you. You would not be nearly as talented if I hadn’t pushed you into your calling as a swimmer.”

Joshua swallowed. “I—I know that, but…”

“Do you know how much your mother has spent on training you over the last fifteen years?”

Joshua visibly shuddered, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “That’s not fair—”

“Does she know you want to quit?” Kahi now sounded accusing, near offended. “Does she know you want to give up your dream because of, what, some mental block against what is essentially jumping in a pool and flipping?”

Joshua was struck with a loss for words, so Kahi continued.

“As good as those swimmers out there are, they are incomparable to you and quitting now? It’s selfish. Think of your mom, your dad, and all those who have sacrificed so much for you to be this. You were born to swim, born to be an Olympic swimmer, Joshua.”

Joshua felt his insides crumble, his stomach tieing in tight, aching notes the more his mind spiralled with the rhetoric he’d been fed for half his life. Be better, do better, try harder, you are not enough.

"This isn't fair," he choked. He felt himself spiral, into the headspace he'd suffered so many years through. You are not enough. You are not enough. You are not enough. He wanted to cry, and curl up in a ball. God, he wanted Jihoon.

“And I know you can get distracted, and it’s been a tough year for you, I know that. But you can be better. That boyfriend of yours is probably feeding ideas—”

Like the crack of a whip, Joshua sprung from his chair, hot tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He jabbed an accusing finger at Kahi. “This has absolutely nothing to do with Jihoon, don’t you dare say a word against him. He is what has kept me afloat through years of your training which, frankly, can be quite fucking cruel at times. Do you have any idea how many times I starved myself because you said I was too fat to swim fast? Do you know how many times I slept in a sauna before a competition just so I can look the way you wanted me to? I gave up my fucking life to swim for you. You, a washed-up, has-been who takes out her issues on teenagers because she fucked up back in 199-who-gives-a-fuck! I could’ve gone to college, I could’ve eaten junk food, I could’ve gone to so many parties, gotten fucked up and made shitty choices, but no, I didn’t because I cared way too much about this! Yes, I love swimming, and yes, I want to be a world champion, but I am done with this shit, this fucking clusterfuck of a fuck-show where you micromanage and control my life. I’m fucking free, now. Do you hear me? Free.”

The air was hot, fire burning between them.

Joshua looked at his shaking finger for a moment, before he slapped a hand over his mouth, tears rolling over his fingers. "I'm..." he started to say it, an apology that was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. Joshua had never felt a rage like in his life, felt such an aching, a burning to shout and scream and cry. He’d never even told Jihoon the things he’d done to appease his coach in his life, the experiences that brought him closer to perfection than any man should have ever seen. Kahi stared at him, her rage almost visible in the sharp breaths she took, in and out. Joshua for a second felt guilty.

“As I said,” she said, calm. “Take the weekend. Think on it, and come back Monday.”

Joshua lowered a shaking hand and swallowed around the scratching in his throat. “I am not coming back here, coach.” He said, clenching his fists. “I quit.” He turned, picked up the chair he knocked over, and left, letting the door shut with a click behind him.

Down the stairs to the pool, Joshua’s teammates ambled, as if they’d just been told to act casual. He looked at them as he descended the staircase, smiling sadly.

“So, uh,” he began. “Jeonghan, I guess your P.B is officially the team best.”

From the wall, arms folded, Jeonghan looked at his feet.

“Are you really going?” Jieqiong asked, her voice a shy, meek whisper.

Joshua hummed, still feeling his heart in its escape attempt. “Sorry, Pinky. But, it’s probably for the better.”

“What are you going to do?”

Joshua shrugged and pulled his tote bag up his shoulder higher. “Start living, I guess.”

* * *

“Okay, so run it by me?”

“Green for espresso, red for clean; macchiatos are espressos for pussies and I will learn to hate Frappuccino's.”

“There, I think you’re ready to start.” Jun clapped his hands and dropped Jihoon’s apron over his head. “Congratulations, welcome to the Blue Bottle Coffee Shop!”

“Jun that’s great and all, but I think you might have to actually teach him how to make coffees,” Wonwoo, from his seat at the counter, said without even looking up from the notes he was copying. A mutual friend of Jihoon and Joshua, Wonwoo studied marine bio, just as Jihoon did, and in the midst of Jihoon picking up hours at Jun’s cafe, he had offered to transcribe his notes into a detailed study folder for Jihoon so he didn’t fall behind this semester. Jihoon was, at first, elated to hear someone was happy to help him out when he inevitably missed class, but upon learning that Wonwoo didn’t even own a laptop, let alone keep his notes digitally, he insisted he could find someone else.

“Don’t worry,” Wonwoo insisted. “It’s basically early revision for me.” He sat there today as Jihoon did his first shift, scribbling out line after line, working through a sophisticated system of colour coding that Jihoon could only feign to understand.

“I can work an espresso machine,” Jihoon said defensively. “The rest, I’m sure just comes naturally.”

Midway through the early-afternoon rush, Jihoon began crying into the milk steamer, and Jun finally decided he could give him a crash course.

At the end of his shift, his feet hurt and his wrists were burnt, and as he collapsed into the aged, leather sofa under the television, he regretted this decision entirely.

“Maybe I’m not cut out for barista-ing,” he groaned.

Wonwoo hopped down from his chair, which he happily sat in for six straight hours, and handed Jihoon a binder. “Cheer up,” he said. “You’ll get used to it! Now, I stuck on a timetable of all our exams and deadlines for the rest of the semester, so nothing sneaks up on you. I recommend going over what I’ve already copied out tonight, then on Monday I can take the binder back, and give it back to you next Friday for the weekend study of that week’s notes. So on and so forth until we both graduate with honours!”

“Or until Jihoon stops being poor!” Jun called.

“Or until you stop being poor.”

Jihoon groaned and took the binder, hugging it to his chest like an anxiety teddy. “Thank you, Wonwoo. I’d suffer without you.”

“Oh, I know. I’ll see you tomorrow, for John’s party?”

Jihoon hadn’t thought about attending but smiled anyway. “Sure.”

“Jun, are you coming?”

“I’ll bring Hot Cheetos!”

Wonwoo left, and Jihoon tried to muster the mental willpower to peruse the binder now, but let it fall flat on his face, the words Phytoplankton zoomed in a blurred as his eyes began to droop. The sounds of Jun pottering about the cafe, clearing dishes and grinding coffee beans filled his ears, the scent of milk bubbling in a jug, of berries crushed against one another as the blender whirled around and around. He heard the gaggle of footfall past the shop window, heard the wind as it whipped up the sand on the shop floor, and somewhere out in the distance, he heard the sea. Jihoon knew the ocean was a terrible, tragic thing. He also knew he couldn’t deny its ferocious beauty.

Jihoon’s fascination with the ocean began in the months after the boat crash. The vivid memories of the dark blue abyss made him sweat with night terrors, but he remembers seeing so much, much more than he ever should as if some god had known he was about to die and revealed to him the secrets of the ocean in some cruel trick. He remembers sharks and fish and bugs and tentacles and something much larger, much more sinister looming in the spaces the sun didn’t touch, and Jihoon knew, somewhere in his psyche, that none of this was real, it was the imagination of a young, scared boy but somewhere else, he begged to know more. He begged to understand the magnificent monster that ripped his family into two: one side alive, one side dead.

Jihoon opened up the binder to last week's seminar on an elective class called Merging Worlds: Tectonic Activity on Marine Life and scanned the section on freak storms. He zoned in and out to the neatly copied words as the light voices of Jun and his mother carried in from the back kitchen. Jihoon didn’t speak much Mandarin, but he could tell by the way the pair hushed their tones that weren’t intended to be understood.

Minutes later, Jun passed through the cheesy beads that separated the kitchen from the counter and slumped himself next to Jihoon, who lifted his legs to settle them on top of Jun’s lap. Jun let out a long, deep sigh and rubbed his eyes and Jihoon peeked over his binder.

“Everything okay?” he asked, and Jun blinked as if he’d just woken up from a daze.

“Yeah, no, nothing. Everything’s fine.” Though Jun and Jihoon hadn’t been friends for the longest time, Jun had pulled Jihoon through some very long, caffeinated nights of cramming when the library got too much for Jihoon to handle - he’d helped him memorise flashcards and hid his phone from him until he finished his assignments, and Jihoon had begun to be able to read his face like he’d studied it just as much.

“Okay, when you decide to not be a liar, I’ll listen.” He went back to his binder, and, as expected, Jun caved a moment later.

“Mama is worried about the shop. Rent’s rising, there’s a cost of living crisis and we’re not pulling enough numbers to keep it steady. She’s thinking of reducing the hours we’re open.”

Jihoon sat up slowly. “Your mom thinks you can’t make it?”

Jun sighed. “She’d never be so negative about it, but… she knows we’re struggling to make ends meet.”

Jihoon chewed the inside of his lip. “Thank you for being honest about it.” He’s been here before, more times than he’d care to admit. He knows the crushing feeling of knowing that you’ll have to forgo some of your meals next week so your little brother can buy enough notebooks for school; or that he knows he won’t see his sister for three days just so he can pay for his lab whites. He knows the guilt when he buys a coffee he doesn’t technically need, or when he spends too long in the shower when he knows he should be saving the water to drink. He knows how awful it is to watch it all happen without being able to control anything. He knows the feeling of not being able to sleep because he can hear Yejin arguing on the phone with bank managers and the horrible, sinking feeling that he won’t get to really do what he wants with his life because he just can’t afford it.

“I’m sure…” Jun took another long breath in. “I’m sure it will work out. We just have to see how we’re doing by the end of the month, then we can either panic or worry.”

He knew that feeling too. Jihoon had never been great at comforting people, but he reached out his hand to grasp Jun’s shoulder anyway. “Wanna come over and drink the cheap beer that Amy keeps finding in hotel rooms?”

“Is that even a question?”

* * *

Joshua regrettably was getting kind of good at this. As he swam, he could roll forward, seamlessly spin to his side, and if he tried hard enough, he could flip out of the water.

Swimming around the shallow waters of Malibu was a risk, especially near sundown, when throngs of surfers flooded out to catch the last of the waves before dark, but he did it anyway. Joshua found the risk of swimming near people made the anger in him feel better, more justified and somehow prepared him for if he needed to, he could outswim any hippie on a plank of wood ten times over.

He watched the sun sink behind the horizon, and soon enough, the beaches were cleared of people. Joshua found a rock, one protruding out and which curved just so that to sit on it would obscure him from view entirely to anyone passing along the Pacific High Way. He dragged his long, silky body up the rock and lay there, under the warm moon, and took a moment to admire the way his scales shone in the pale light. He hated to admit it, but objectively, his tail was by far the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. If only it wasn’t ruining his fucking life at the minute.

Joshua, truly, had no idea what he was going to do - he had no idea how to, "just start living." He’d quit the team, the one and only career path he had ever known. Honestly, he was never great at school - sure, he passed with a decent GPA, and knew what he liked to learn about, but he never found validation and passion in academics, not the way Jihoon did. Joshua had spent every day since he was five years old swimming for a purpose, to win golds and be a world champion, and now he was left with nothing. Nothing but his lower body bound by a fish appendage. And he still hadn’t figured out where his cock had gone.

He supposed he could get a job, but with what skills? He'd always liked the idea of running a business, but the first mention of profit or returns or actually thinking of anything to set up a business for made him want to fall asleep. He guessed porn could be an option - he had a nice, athletic body, and he knew he could give a pretty good head. But he loved Jihoon and didn't want to ruin sex with him by doing it for money. Essentially, Joshua was quite honestly fucked.

With a huff, Joshua sat back onto the rock and thought about the way he’d left the pool. The deep, cavernous anger that had fuelled him to shout at, and berate his coach had left a dark, burning hole in him that made him feel empty and entirely too full both at the same time. He had never felt anything like that in his entire twenty-two years of existence. The tail must be fucking with his hormones or something like that. The more he contemplated, the more he realised he’d been different lately: he was anxious more, short-tempered, snappy; he’d been deceitful to Jihoon, which made him want to gut himself and be severed on an over-priced platter. He had to tell him, Joshua knew it, but it was the hardest thing he could ever imagine doing.

As he ran the possibilities of his relationship ending over in his mind, Joshua suddenly sat upright. He felt it, then, like a sudden draft of cold had wafted over the rocky mountain tops - a chill that withered down his spine, sending unusual pulses through his fins. He looked down at his tail which seemed to flop and twitch like a mind of its own. Then, he heard it. As soft as cotton over his skin, he heard his name fold into the wash of the waves on the shore. He frowned, closed his eyes and listened again.

Silence.

It was like the ocean had tried to reach him, call to him, but decided it didn’t need him anymore, until—

Again. There. Somehow in the distance but close enough to make Joshua shiver, he heard his name again, gentle and alluring. It was. The ocean was calling him. It felt like he was being called home.

Joshua opened his eyes as a gust of wind ruffled his drying hair. He could feel the familiar tingle of his legs growing restless and realised his body was drying off. He was about to let it, when he saw, from the corner of his eye, rounding the edge of the cliff face, the dark silhouette driving its way out towards the rocky waters of Point Dune. Even though the night, with Joshua’s vision somehow less impaired than it used to be, Joshua made out the unmistakable features: a tall spire, legs on either side dangling in the water, the slow tug of something hidden beneath the surface. He’d been around enough of them to know that was a fishing vessel.

But, this was a protected area - fishing wasn’t allowed in the waters. Joshua began to look around, craning his neck around the rock ledges to see if there was a coast guard nearby. He could swim to them, tell them he’d seen a fishing ship, get them arrested, the fish seized—

But then Joshua would have to explain how he saw it in the first place, how he managed to swim to a coast guard boat in the middle of the night and, most challengingly, how the fuck he was half person half fish.

He watched the boat some more, clocking the way it moved, almost erratically around the shore, and slowly, felt the sensation crawl over him again, the prickle of familiarity as the waves bounced against the boat, rocking it, swaying it, like it was fighting back. He heard his name, this time not a whisper, but a shout, a call, a cry. Joshua could do something. Joshua could be the one to fight back. He decided, rather quickly then, to slip beneath the surface, dive as low as he can manage, and do something about it.

The boat had little to no lights aboard, just the ominous glow of the navigations in the standing shelter, the torches on the body of a handful of fishermen. As he approached, bobbing at the surface. he kept his distance, keeping with the boat's speed, until it eventually slowed, stopped nearly ten, fifteen kilometres from the shore. The anchor catapulted to the bottom of the ocean, and Joshua, finally able to swim close enough safely, saw that attached to the boat, on either side were two large nets full of taking. Fish wriggled around, still alive, desperate to escape. Joshua's heart began to bleed for them, an odd, desperate sensation of pity and guilt.

He made his choice. Swimming as fast as he possibly could, Joshua returned to shallower waters, dove deep and found the first sharp rock he could. His eyes adjusted well to the dark water, almost like he had an odd night vision setting that cranked up the further he swam down. With haste, he swam back to the boat and staying as flush against the darkness as he could, began to slice open the net.

It was harder work than he imagined, the thick rungs of plastic refusing to give no matter how hard he yanked it. Eventually, his hand gave way, and the rock sunk deeper until it was out of sight, no dent in the netting to be seen. Joshua swam back, assessed the nets some more and thought hard about how to do this. He could untie the nets from the boat, but that would require him most likely to be on the deck, which certainly wasn’t an option. He began to think his luck had run out when, in the dim lights of the men on board that shone down to the nets, Joshua spotted something shimmering, just at the edge of the netting. He swam back over, and attempted to shimmy it out, discovering in his hand a glistening, albeit dull penknife.

Jackpot. Ocean trash wins just this once.

Joshua made quicker work of the nets this time, splicing them open and getting battered with fish as they swam to escape. He had to move fast, knowing the fishermen will certainly tell the nets were cut soon enough. It was just as he was about to swim to the next net, that a bright light, like the heavens had opened, shone on him. He froze, for one tragic second, before something came plummeting towards him from the edge of the deck. A big, package, wound up in netting was thrown overboard, and clocked Joshua just on the head, unable to move in time and getting the wind knocked out of him as the package rapidly descended to the bottom of the ocean. Joshua had only a second to glimpse what was inside, wrapped up in think fishing nets and what glittered up at him, winking in the mysterious sun.

It was a tail. About half the length of a person, shining bright red. Joshua’s heart stopped in his chest.

It was then that the clamour on the boat became loud, and Joshua, as he dived out of the light, realised it was trained on him. He had been spotted. He cursed and decided it was his time to go, but before he swam off, he sped to the other side of the boat and began shredding the net with the knife still caught in his grip. He tore open a hole, as darts of disturbance echoed in the water around him, and he realised with a start, that he was being shot at. He knew the tear he created wasn’t wide enough, as the boat began to draw anchor and the engine whirred back to life, but it was all he could do. It was time to save himself, and he blindly raced in the opposite direction of the vessel.

As he rocketed himself to what he hoped was the shore, Joshua’s mind was plagued by the image of the package dropped into the water, how the light reflected against the red of the tail, almost too dark and too shimmering to be anything other than warm blood. He was struck with two thoughts as he swam into the cold water of the marina: one, that by some defiant stroke of luck, Joshua wasn’t the only mermaid out there, and two, that someone was hunting them.