Chapter Text
Tadashi is eight years old when he walks along the beaches of Waikiki with his parents for the last time on their family trip, watching the moonlight ripple in the languid waves. He’s close enough to the shoreline that the water just barely laps at his ankles. It’s early evening, the moon large and sitting just above the horizon, pulling the water away from the earth.
His parents walk much too slowly for his taste. He leaps forward into the sand, then pauses and runs back before getting too far ahead. His parents don’t get the memo. He frowns.
“I’m going to look over here,” he says, pointing to the shallow tide pool in the rocks a few meters away. His mom scrutinizes it, eventually deeming it alright and calling for him to be very careful as he runs off.
The tide has gone out enough that the rocks aren’t very slippery, and a small puddle of water stays trapped in the rocks. It’s too dark to see much, but there’s not much to be seen anyways — Waikiki is too developed for any large creatures to make a permanent home there. Tadashi squats down near the pool, moves the water with his hands, and is content to simply listen to the sound of the ocean.
Suddenly, there’s the distinct sound of watery distress, out of place in the calm nighttime. His head whips around just fast enough to catch the smallest of splashes from the other side of the rocks. Tadashi drops to his hands and knees, crawling ever-so-slowly towards where he saw the disturbed water.
At first, there’s nothing, only the edge of the rocks sloping down into the ocean, the water, and the moon. Then he sees the shimmer below the surface and slowly his eyes start to make out the image in front of him: a boy, just about his age, lying under the water. Not just a boy, but one with brown-gold eyes that are staring through the water at him. A boy with a fish’s tail. Tadashi’s eyes follow the shape of it, down to where it narrows to a thin, silky fin — most of which is caught between the rocks right under Tadashi’s hands.
He stops breathing for a moment.
Tadashi, shaking, reaches out a single hand toward the fin, snapping it back to his chest when the boy’s head pops above the water and he hisses at him.
“C-can I help?” Tadashi stutters out. He sits back on his legs and holds out his hands gently. “Help?”
The other boy’s snarl slowly turns down into a mere stubborn frown. His eyes don’t leave Tadashi’s hands, but he doesn’t prevent him from coming forward again.
Tadashi leans down and ever so gently wiggles the fin free, pushing broken rocks away and splashing water to keep the fin wet. It takes him a minute, but suddenly the boy in the ocean whips his tail towards him and Tadashi shields his face from water droplets with his hands. He expects the boy to be long gone by the time he opens his eyes, but to his great surprise, he’s still floating by the rocks, head tilted curiously at Tadashi.
Unsure what else to do, Tadashi waves.
The boy copies him.
Tadashi giggles at the sight, a creature who’s never tried to wave before letting his hand flop limply on his wrist. “Hello,” he laughs, waving again.
The boy stares, interested.
“I’m Tadashi,” he says. He’s unsure if his words are understood. It feels nice to talk to him anyway. “Are you… a mermaid?”
No answer.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s nice to meet you! What’s your name?”
Two blinks.
“Do you have one? Probably. I could give you a nickname though! That’s what friends do.” Tadashi points to himself, then to the boy. “Friends. If you want to be!”
The barest of smiles turns up on the boy’s lips. Then, a nod.
Tadashi can’t hold back his excitement. “Yes! We’re friends!”
The boy’s tail swishes aimlessly in the water, the moonlight reflecting off its pale scales.
“Tsuki?” Tadashi tries out. “Like the moon. Like…” he points to the sky, “Like that.”
Tsuki turns his head to look at the moon, then glances back to Tadashi. He takes a finger and points it at his own chest.
“Yeah! Tsuki! Or maybe like… Tsu-ki. Tsukki. It’s nice to meet you! Tsukki!”
His mother’s voice calls out his name, summoning him back.
“I gotta go. But we’ll meet again, I’m sure. Oh, here! Promise!”
He sticks out his pinky finger, and Tsukki turns up his brows in confusion.
“Like this,” Tadashi explains, demonstrating with his own two pinkies. “It’s a pinky promise. It means you’ll never forget. Pinky promise I’ll meet you again, okay?”
Tsukki sticks out his pinky, and they shake on it.
He glances down and notices the spot of blood on his pinky. Likely Tadashi had scraped his hands while freeing Tsukki’s tail, and some of his blood had gotten on him when they shook. He presses his finger to his mouth and watches Tadashi run across the shore.