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Rumor passed down from fish to turtle to tadpole at the lake that a merman had washed in from the sea.
When Shouta spotted the new face, he confirmed the rumor to be fact.
Once in a while, the prevailing rain of the May monsoon flooded the sea, lakes and rivers. As a result, the currents often shuffled hapless aquatic life from their familiar habitats to distant foreign waters. Usually, once the storms halted, before the dry summer heat reduces water levels back to normal and order is once more restored, the sojourners would make their way back to their respective residence.
Even though the other, a full-fledged merman older than most of the inhabitants here (Shouta could tell by the visible age-related yellowing of his original ivory white tail), was quick to extend goodwill and friendship immediately to all those he crossed paths with, Shouta chose to keep his distance.
He obstinately steered clear of his presence, of his charming grins and cheerful demeanor that had won the favor of all the lake's inhabitants, including his friends, Hizashi and Nemuri. He knew that even if they were to establish in camaraderie, it would be short-lived. And once the other returned to his home, the chance of them ever meeting again was slim.
But it was a small world, after all. And smaller yet was the already overpopulated lake now accommodating the influx of unexpected guests.
One day, Shouta found him at a certain secluded area (his usual resting spot) lying belly-down on a rock and bathing in the sun that finally graced all existence with its brilliance after the incessant rain relented momentarily. The large lotus leaves and blossoms rising from beneath the lake surface hid him from view so well that Shouta hadn't spotted him until he parted the overlapping dense leaves. At the same time, he shook up the morning dew that had collected upon the waxy surfaces. The crystalline drops scurried down until they leapt into the water and became one with it.
As he drew close, he caught sight of the round beads of water that clung to his fins, strands of his wild mane and glided down his smooth back. Their surroundings, the dense greenery, the vivid pink and fuscia shades of the prime aquatic blossoms became microcosmics specks reflected upon the tiny domes.
He appeared to be lost in thought, his hazy, out-of-focus cerulean eyes told him.
Maybe the blond missed his home. That he idled here at this specific location for its possible resemblance to his own abode.
The blond's creamy white tail swayed back and forth languidly behind him. Shouta realized, while studying the other in close proximity, the misconception previously produced by distance. Though the visitor's seniority spurred no debate, he saw now that time had neither spoiled his appearance nor altered the color of his tail. If anything, the radiant sun only accentuated the dazzling beauty of his intricate scales and bathed his figure in an ethereal glow.
It required every bit of his reason and logic to restrain him from reaching out to touch a stranger.
As if Shouta's internal grappling had somehow translated to external clamor, Toshinori perked up.
"...Hello?"
Aquamarine met onyx.
Shouta nodded at him, then averted his gaze.
"You must be the 'Shou-chan' Hizashi refers to." The older merman teased, shoulders slacking as he lowered his chin back down to rest upon his folded hands. "Pleased to finally meet you. I'm Toshinori."
"I know." He spurted. Too quickly. Because his loudmouth friend only repeated his name half a dozen times during their mostly one-sided conversations. And because he was somewhat startled hearing the other address him so... intimately (though indirectly).
Toshinori then attempted to establish further familiarity with small talk, which was neither his forte nor interest. He made no real effort to reply elaborately.
But, he didn't turn his back and disengage entirely either.
While they exchanged pleasantries, his shiny black tail propelled the water stealthily, slowly slithering toward the other's tail like it had a mind of its own. For, in invading the other's personal space, it would bypass his carefully constructed front. He retracted it multiple times before his caudal fin could brush along the other's iridescent scales. Albeit his tail diverged against him in will, it matched him in persistence.
"You know, Shouta."
"...Hn." He spared a perfunctory grunt.
"You must enjoy resting on this rock." Toshinori closed his eyes to imitate the brunet whom he envisioned napped there regularly. "You're here quite frequently. I'm saying this because I can sense your lingering presence, your scent, your memories on this particular rock... That even though we've neither met nor conversed before, I already feel close to you because of this familiarity... It's comforting."
The other's confession send shivers down his bare back to the tip of his tail. He had always grasped that halflings like himself and his companions (and now this newcomer before him) came equipped with a sophisticated nervous system at birth (thanks to their eight-limbed distant cousin). As time advanced, as their nerves further unfurled and developed, they were now able to establish bonds with other life forms sometimes through a single touch.
Differentiating friend from foe had never been so simple.
Yet, concurrently, he also felt rather exposed.
How easily the other, with a simple honest confession, shattered all the efforts he spent avoiding contact and preventing their fateful rendezvous. It forced him to face the fact, that, try as he may to deny it, he was utterly drawn, irretrievably attracted to this stranger from a distant world, this intruder to his ordinary otherwise banal life, this crafty thief who dared to steal his heart and would probably make off with it once time ripens for him to return to his home, faraway.
In his last futile effort at resistance, he glared at the other. If he could shoot icicles with one gaze, he would have already extracted his revenge.
Only, Toshinori sat up, and opened his arms in invitation, offering him a full view of his soft, exposed abdomen, the intriguing scar on his left side.
"Touch me, Shouta." He implored. "And I'll share my memories with you."
As if given consent to release his inhibition, to be led by instincts, his primitive drive, he waded closer. His hand gravitated toward the blossom-like scar that his eyes had immediately been drawn to. His fingertips traced the curves and contours, the dips and ridges---the course of Toshinori's turbulent travels, his lifetime travails mapped out upon his own skin.
Toshinori sighed, and shifted his weight. But he didn't stop him, didn't shrink back from his exploring touch. His glossy tail swiped the cool surface of the rock as if he's trying to brush off the embarrassment.
Fleeting images of events leading up to the blond acquiring the large horrific crater-like wound to the formation of the scar flooded his mind instantly. Along with them, he felt an accumulation of what would quickly escalate to impossible anger at the predator who had the audacity to touch him, hurt him and leave a permanent blemish on him as sick way of assuaging his voracious ego.
Trembling from his display of intense emotion, Toshinori still managed to reach out and wrap his arms around Shouta's neck.
As their bodies pressed together, an unfamiliar yet overwhelming urge swelled within him like underwater convulsions brewing up a tsunami. Shouta had no solid definition of what it may be, so he only resorted to coddling his companion closely. His dark tail sought the other's light one. He intertwined his with the other's and Toshinori reciprocated with gentle coyness. Their union, a gratification of their senses. They felt, smelled, tasted each other so thoroughly that no further verbal exchange was necessary. For, no amount of words, no particular language would be adequate in expressing or replacing their shared experience.
As Shouta spectated Toshinori's memories, he gets a glimpse of his origin, his home, in the endlessly deep blue sea. He recounted the other's encounters and adventures, the creatures he'd met, befriended and parted paths with.
"I wanted to ask you..." Toshinori pulled away slightly so he could examine his face. Though, their breaths still mingled and their tails entwined. "After the storms stop completely, would you like to come with me back to the sea, back home?"
Allowing his action to answer, Shouta leaned in to bridge the last bit of distance between them.
