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Shinkai was like the deep sea.
And he supposed it was fitting — considering Sirena was an arts and water capital and all. But there was always something more; something more…beautiful, more majestic , about the Sirena attendant’s calm demeanor. Deep and mysterious as much as it was soothing and clear.
If Shinkai was the ocean, then maybe Erin was his mermaid. A creature drawn to the sea which he called home, where he could be free yet swam in the waves’ cradle. Where his scars and masks paled in the grandness of the azure and where he could let shine the scales he never realized were there before.
And some nights, the mermaid would perch himself on top of the sea’s warm embrace—if only to stare into the depths hidden behind its eyes. And the sea would entwine its fingers into his long, red hair, and ask, with eyes as calm as the shores and voice fleeting as the wind: “What is it?”
And the little mermaid would smile, giving his deep sea a kiss on the head. “Nothing.”