Chapter Text
When I was a little boy, perhaps 5 or 6, my Mother would always bathe me in the giant metal tub in our cellar. I would slosh and splash while the bathtub would rattle under my weight. I would play pretend, imagining that I was a swashbuckling pirate, combating the rough seas. The mood would be light and wholesome as my Mother would laugh at my acts.
The ending would always be the same: the pirate conquers the storm.
And yet, 20 years later, with an employment as a sailor, I do not conquer the storm.
Rather, I’m being abused by the horrid tide. It sways my little boat in almost every direction. Waves spray water towards me, yet it rarely compares to the thundering rain that feels like thin bullets to the skin. If this was pretend, it would be a nightmare.
I’m an unorganized mix of panic and focus, attempting to steer my ship away from harsh waves while combating the anxiety rising within me. The ocean only seems to be worsening. Sweat trickles down my neck.
My grip on the wooden wheel tightens, but it’s no use. The waves grow twice as big as my entire ship, and I begin to lose hope in survival at all.
Just as a short prayer crosses my mind, the tide comes crashing down on me.
Inky blackness greets me as life comes to a halt.
——————
A muffled pain in my forehead awakens me, and I move my arm to rub it.
Where am I?
I slowly but surely sit up, and immediately feel the wooden floors of my boat. Relief fills me as I peek over the edge.
The rain has stopped, with the exception of a few clouds in the sky, and the water has completely quelled. There appears to be no cargo boxes floating about, so I assume that everything on the ship is still here with me.
When the dull aching fades away, I scramble to my feet and reach for my compass and map. With a quick calculation, I conclude that I’m not too far off my path, and it’ll only be a slight delay to get back on track. I take the wheel once again and steer towards my destination. The salty breeze assists in making my travel faster.
It’s been another hour of sailing, with nothing out of the ordinary. I whistled a soft tune that my lady friend, Kaede, had played for me on the piano earlier this week. She’s known all around town for composing beautiful pieces and performing at the almost historic theatre. Kaede always gives me a preview of her songs, which I gladly listen to.
More white foam hits the ship and glides across the sides, and I start to zone out into my own thoughts.
Suddenly, my eye catches an object a few feet in front of me. As I drift closer, I recognize it to be a frayed net.
Is there a fish caught in it?
I glide around the catch so it brushes against the right side of the boat. Despite only having myself to assist, I manage to carry the very heavy object out of the tide.
No, it’s not a fish. It’s… a boy?
No, that can’t be. It has a fin as a tail. Would that make them a…
“Mermaid?” I back away in utter shock. Mermaids weren’t real. They were fictional characters written in my old favorite children’s books. Yet here he was, sitting up, petrified.
“W-who are you? Are you going to eat me?” I’m confused on how he even knows English to begin with, but I suppose there’s even more questions to be worried about. I inch a little closer and kneel so we’re at each other’s eye level.
“No, no, I won’t be eating you. I’m Shuichi Saihara, and I’m a sailor,” I instinctively offer my hand, and he looks at it puzzled before shaking it. His hand is wet and slightly slimy. Gross.
After wiping my hand on my pants, I look up and take in all his features. Unusually silver hair, blue eyes, and extremely pale skin. I try to excuse the essentially white skin as a lack of sunlight from living underwater, yet the very human-looking nose on his face contradicts any scientific explanation I could muster.
“My name is Kiibo, and could you please free me from your trap…?” He points to the ropes tightened around his blueish-gray tail. All of his anatomy is a mystery to me.
“Ah, apologies, though I did not set that trap that caught you…” I mutter the last note before pulling out a pocket knife and cutting through the tethered rope. Kiibo watches in awe at the process, eyes sparkling.
“Do you need any more assistance? I can help you back into the water,” I offer. The mermaid averts his eyes, and his expression changes to a much more solemn one.
“I’m afraid I do not have any family to gather with…” Kiibo’s lip trembles, yet I avoid touching his shoulder.
My fingers reach my chin as I ponder. Only one idea comes to mind…
No, that’s selfish of me. Sea creatures deserve to thrive underwater. But, he doesn’t look to enjoy his life as it is...
“I could possibly… take you back to my home? I’m very close to where I usually dock, and there’s most likely an empty crate I could fill with seawater…” I rub the back of my neck, not knowing what else to add.
“Nevermind, that’s probably a foolish idea…”
Kiibo, on the other hand, grins wide and gives a light clap.
“Perfect! I would love to observe day-to-day human life! Thank you very much, Shuichi Saihara.”
My eyes widen from the sudden change of emotion, though I respond pretty quickly.
“Alright then! Stay put and I’ll find a large box that you’ll be comfortable in.”
I pick myself up, and turn on my heels before making my way to the storage section of my boat. I weigh some cargo with my arms before finding a perfect fit for the guy. I take a deep breath.
“Well, no turning back now. Let’s take a mermaid home…”
The crate isn’t very heavy, though it gains a lot of weight after I fill it with ocean. It leaks slightly, drops falling through the cracks of the old wood planks.
“Here, get into the crate. I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to your kind, so please tell me if you need something,” I try to keep a professional act, ignoring how weird this situation is.
“I’m sure this will suffice. Thank you again, it means a lot that someone is caring for me,” Kiibo climbs into the crate, and some of the liquid overflows. I grow flustered from his words.
“Ah, it’s no worry at all. We should arrive in town soon.”
I walk back to the wheel, thankful that the boat didn’t drift off track. The wind continues to push us forward, and it ruffles my hair. I glance at Kiibo, who’s playing with his hands whilst still smiling softly. Though his scaly tail is hanging off the rim of the box, he looks content.
“Oh, I actually have an ol’ bathtub at home. I’m sure you’ll love it…”