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Icarus fell in love with the sun, flew too close to it just to melt from its intensity and, as a result, met the sea under his lover’s sunlight, never quite able to touch the rays of sunshine that kissed and unraveled his skin. Icarus never got to hold the one he loved.
Such a destructive – forbidden – love, such a disconcerting force he couldn’t help but want to get closer, tremble in ecstasy to, ultimately, wilt and break from and under it.
Shun really liked that myth.
Shun, in a sense, could relate to Icarus, could understand why he pursued something that would inevitably kill him. The allure in something that everyone said you shouldn’t go after was something Shun knew well and, although he didn’t run (or fly), it was tempting to.
Though Shun, unlike Icarus, found his pull not in the sun, but in the sea instead.
The ocean, all things vast and enticing and unknown.
Thinking about that always made Shun feel lightheaded, so he sighed heavily and closed the book on Greek mythology on his hands, tossing it aside and over the mess on his table.
He laid his body down on the wooden floor and threw an arm over tired, heavy eyelids. The air felt humid and salty. With his eyes closed, Shun – despite how motionless his body was – felt waves rocking his insides, one after the other. He clicked his tongue and tried to ignore it, knowing that it was unlikely to work. It wasn't the time to think about that, it never was. Even when the sound of the crashing waves (their swaying movement in his body) was, ontologically, everlasting, Shun refused it.
For he was only sure about one thing.
Gay people didn’t get to think about soulmates.
Still, all the cold rooms back in Hokkaido smelled like the summer sea. Missing something – someone – you never had didn't make sense, but the feeling remained all the same. It came in waves, unrelenting and inevitable, and every other day Shun drowned in it.
It always felt like it could fill his lungs with water and kill him in an instant and yet, it was then that Shun felt alive the most.
Even then, in Okinawa, on the other end of the country, Shun couldn’t erase the burning snowflakes yet. Hey, don’t you think Hashimoto is a homo?... We have to disown him… Ew, my seat is right next to his… There’s no such thing as ‘meant to be’ for fags...
The salty drop pooling under his eyelids – just another sea wave – was easy to disregard as the hardwood floor under his palms got humid and then wet, the room gradually filling with water. As per usual, Shun let the water dampen the edges of his body, soaking each corner until he was floating, until – inevitably – he was drowning.
He remained calm in the midst of what could be considered a small apocalypse. Lips on his lips that he never tasted. He embraced the familiarity of the situation in the same way the water enveloped him. Warm arms, hands on his skin that he never felt. Shun let it consume him unrestricted until he became part of that cosmos – his room under salty water, all of his things floating soaked, all of his body immersed in it, his edges shaped by the curving of the waves, his ears filled with their ringing melody.
Waves were all there was.
Gentle and sweet, yes. Overwhelming and imposing, as well. Kiss the sand under the sea... Shun always heard – both muffled and completely clear – when in that strangely familiar place. Kiss the sand under the sea to have the one you love. Every time, it felt both like a tender invitation and a barely concealed threat, the company the voice provided Shun's lonesome state a source of comfort, but of tension, uncertainty and insecurity as well. Still, he was all by himself there, underwater, and the way he felt a pull, the need to sink down towards the dark corners of his room was a telltale sign of the possibility to burn himself. Better yet, to drown himself.
Shun let it take place – that dragging force. With each breath, he sank deeper and deeper, oxygen scarce and irrelevant when, in comparison, his love was so tempting. Encompassing. Resplendent.
Almost swallowed by darkness, almost brushing its unclear edges with his fingertips – much different from the blinding clarity of snow –, Shun sucked in a breath and felt the waves come in, crash inside and, effortlessly, unravel the cold knots of apartness.
He blinked his eyes open, eyelashes wet and eyelids heavy, meeting the sight of his dry and creaking wooden ceiling. At last, Shun felt the remnants of tears escaping the perimeters of his eyes, slipping down the sides of his face and leaving faint tracks behind as the only testaments of their existence.
Shun sighed and gingerly pushed himself up, running his hands through his face and hair while leaning against the mess on his table, the book on Greek mythology lying in its center. Annoyed by its sight, Shun clicked his tongue and turned it upside down – aware that the childish and petty action was unable to erase the knowledge that, regardless, the book remained there.
The images of his dream remained behind his eyelids.
Finally, Shun stood up, having to steady himself against a wall as a wave of dizziness hit him. It usually went like that anyways, which didn't stop Shun from releasing a string of curses as he closed his eyes and roughly massaged his forehead. Shun didn't know if this happened with other people too, never one to talk about soulmate stuff with anyone else, not when what he longed for happened to share the same gender as him. Either way, he always felt under the weather after that recurrent dream (as if he actually drowned each time and, even after waking up, needed a while to gather his surroundings, recover his senses).
When he felt minimally stable again, Shun grabbed his phone nearby and checked the time, throwing the device to the side as soon as he was done. No unread messages, no missed calls. Only his editor occasionally reached out, the discussions about work sterile and pragmatic. Shun never wavered on his decision to get away from his family, sure that it was better for the waves and snowflakes to stay apart. Nevertheless, Shun still felt alone. He didn't have anyone.
The house was quiet and dark when Shun stepped out of his room, which meant granny had gone to bed already. He went to the kitchen, finding a serving of dinner for himself placed over the table, a caring note beside it. For now, Shun decided to forgo eating, grabbing a beer bottle from the fridge instead.
He put on his outside sandals and stepped outside, following the continual sounds of the waves, the tide pulling him in until his feet found the softness of sand. The beach and the streets that border it were so scantily illuminated that, for a moment, Shun felt like the only person in the world, such was his solitude. There was no sound other than the serene crashing of waves, and Shun barely tasted his beer as he tilted the bottle automatically, eyes fixated on their coming and going.
Shun came closer, steps both sluggish and sure as all of his body willingly fell into the sea’s hold.
Finally, he sat down before the waves, in a spot where the water could not yet reach him. Only ever hinting at a possible contact, Shun would be able to feel the coldness of the water if he stretched his legs forward but, ultimately, he remained static.
Shun wondered what it was about that dream. What did that voice mean when telling him to kiss the sand under the sea? Why couldn’t he grasp the darkest corners of the water that enveloped him again and again? Who pulled him out of it, halting the Icarus-like quality of his desires?
He wondered too, if he really had a soulmate, someone dreaming the same dreams. Or if that was inconceivable from the moment he accepted his queerness. If he really was out there, Shun sometimes let himself imagine what he was like, his eyes and his hands and his voice and his smile, only to question if the waves in him were simply intricate games his mind played on him. Could he really have this? It seemed improbable that, in this blizzard of a world, a gay guy could have someone for him to cherish with affection. Touch over and over as the waves do to the sand every day.
Shun sighed heavily and chugged the rest of his beer, slightly burying the bottle on the sand by his side to take it back later. It was such a dark night, no stars and the moon obstructed by heavy clouds, Shun couldn’t even discern the horizon – what was sea and what was sky. The streetlights flickered continually and the breeze was salty and chilling; again, Shun was overcome with such emptiness, he figured if he was to disappear that night, no one would notice his sudden absence.
That conclusion bathed Shun in a terrifying amount of quietude, and he found himself both on the brink of laughter and tears.
He stood up and approached the sea, at last allowing the water to soak his feet. It only teased his skin at first, the intermittent splashes bearing the feeling of an effortless, instinctive touch. There was scarcity when the waves retreated though, barely scratching the edge of his thirst, so Shun followed that pull, walking deeper into the ocean waves.
His ankles, shins, knees, half of his thighs, all of it was underwater in no time. Shun stopped there for a bit, content in only feeling the waves crashing and brushing past his legs, making him unsteady on his feet. The tide matched how tremulous Shun always felt; it washed away everything else inside of him and left only that perpetual sound, the one that it sought to sync with.
Contradictorily, it soothed him, despite also being the source of all things intimidating and staggering.
Shun was so immersed in a sea of unknown feelings – lingering doubts and unrelenting desire – that he didn’t register the abrupt splashing of water behind him, unnatural and frantic, until thin fingers circled his wrist and tugged forcibly.
"What are you doing?" The voice resounded, full of preoccupation, in the otherwise dead silent night. "It's dangerous!"
It disrupted the stifling peacefulness Shun had found himself in, and he was glad for that, being rattled by something else for once. The concern he heard in it was somewhat foreign to Shun and, like usual, he let himself drown in the way it rang in his ears, persistent and loud like the waves, paradoxically both serene and turbulent like the sea itself.
So maybe it wasn't something that new, that distinct, if it reminded him so much of the vast ocean.
Shun felt another tug, gentler and yet unyielding, and finally allowed his eyes to regard its source, exchanging the monochromatic landscape for the unexpected warmth over his skin. His eyes were wide – dark gray like the spaces Shun so frequently wanted to drown in – but, instead of opaque, flickers of bright innocence danced continuously in his iris. The fervor and appetite Shun saw in the stranger's eyes were things that, for so long, he couldn't find on his own anymore, beyond foreign it was hard to even comprehend how he managed to hold on to them. His hands were both large and delicate, palms warm and fingers long; the calluses in his fingers indicated a lot of manual labor, much more prominent than Shun's own, pen-induced and small.
"Come on." The young man said, taking a step back and forcing Shun to take one as well, for his fingers never left Shun's wrists.
His voice rang nasally, a tad scratchy and high. It sounded like the kind of voice fit for calling someone from afar – full of love in every echo –, for whispering good mornings and I'm home, for sighing this and that over kiss-swollen lips. There wasn't a smile on his lips, for worry coated his face all over, but if Shun was to guess, he would bet that, whenever he smiled, it was often and with his whole body, eyes crinkling at the corners, a beaming and awkwardly adorable quality to it.
Standing there with Shun, not once letting go of his wrist and fingers, the darkness of his hair blending with the darkness of the night, the stranger seemed ideal for pulling Shun out of the obscure corners of his mind for a while. Shun knew he shouldn’t assign such a task to anyone, even if nonverbally, but the man, equipped with his eyes and touch alone, made Shun think of a midday tide, shining and moving with sunrays on its waves – a refreshing relief in the midst of the lightless oceans he visited every night.
Still, for all the things Shun noticed that set them apart, there was also something oddly familiar about him, as if he wasn’t actually a stranger all along. Maybe it was in his eyes. Underneath the shine, the way he looked at Shun – or maybe at the vast space behind him – was filled with both apprehension and awe, though hidden under the hoax of apathy. That look was blatant for Shun, easy to recognize for the same equation could be found in his own eyes.
Shun couldn’t help but wonder though, why such a young man, pretty and kind enough to drag him out of the water, looked seconds away from drowning in dark waters of his own.
With feet and legs wet, they sat side by side on the sand, silence permeating all the air around them. If it wasn’t for the perpetual crashing of waves, the world would look like a place entirely devoid of sounds.
Even in the summer, the night breeze made goosebumps travel over Shun’s skin. The shivers that danced over his body came from the mild cold, but also from some kind of thrill, the continuity of the stranger’s presence next to him by the beach was a source of foreign anticipation for Shun. He found himself wondering what his name would be, whether or not it fit the image Shun conjured in his mind, what was his favorite food, what made him smile the most and what kind of sounds he was capable of making. How his hand would feel in Shun’s hand.
“You got another one of that?” His companion asked, pointing lazily at the empty beer bottle buried near Shun’s feet. His voice, its high and raspy intonations, helped to push aside the strange thoughts that suddenly made themselves present in his mind.
“Uh, no. Not here.”
At Shun's response, he simply nodded, eyes settling back on dark waters while Shun's lingered on him instead. Shun watched, mesmerized, as a salty breeze ruffled the other's hair, waves of black strands crashing in the night air. With his face resting on his palms and his elbows on his bent knees, the stranger sighed, turning his head to catch Shun's gaze with his own.
In a way, it seemed almost like he was challenging Shun to look away, to avoid the gripping quality of his dark eyes. But Shun didn't, he wouldn't dare miss that sight, not when it was all his, centered solely on him.
If the stranger was searching for something in his eyes, Shun wouldn't be able to know if he managed to find it, for his greyish eyes were undecipherable. Like the voice that so often accompanied Shun in his periodic dreams, the man's gaze was both tender and slightly threatening. He held himself just like that, a soft gentleness in his face counterbalanced by the intimidating weight of his scrutiny.
After what felt like an eternity – or maybe just the interval between two waves – the man smiled, faint and with an edge of fatigue in it. Nevertheless, it was breathtaking and eye-catching, pretty in its simplicity, which only made Shun even more curious about him, about the smiles he had yet to show, full of unfiltered laughter or overflowing joy. His eyes remained on Shun's throughout, everlasting like the waves in him.
"What were you doing in the sea?"
Shun knew the question would come up sooner or later, whether or not he had a proper answer. Shun didn't know either; just like Icarus, his actions were solely based in an irrational pull… and how could one begin to explain that the sea felt like the only thing capable of loving him wholly, scars and fears and everything in between?
He definitely shouldn't overthink it, so Shun ended up blurting the most practical of reasons, despite its complete lack of sense – the invitation, the advice, the order, the chant.
"I was trying to kiss the sand under it."
Shun could never predict it, but the eyes of the man before him widened, a gasp falling from his lips. His eyes sparkled with something akin to recognition, radiant as if they just found a treasured possession after searching, searching and deeming it lost for good.
"Oh.” The syllable fell reverently. “I see."
Then, he looked away, eyes settling on the fluffy sand near his feet. He wiggled his toes and buried them under the soil, together with half of his flip-flops. And then, a tiny smile slowly formed on his lips, the corners of his mouth pulling up until he lifted his head and met Shun's eyes again, the cute rectangular shape of his smile now wide and bright.
He was so pretty Shun felt the necessity to hold his breath, as if underwater.
"I'm Mio."
Provided with that knowledge, Shun couldn't imagine him being called something else, the name both soft and strong, like Mio appeared to be as well.
"Shun." He replied, voice embarrassingly breathless.
Mio nodded in acknowledgement and, at the sight of his smile still in place, Shun felt his own lips settle on a smile. What a weird first encounter that was, unpredictable and cryptic. Still, Shun didn't want to be anywhere else; in the space between their bodies he couldn't feel a single snowflake, just waves and waves and waves…
Legs still slightly wet, Shun could feel the ocean's touch in his fingertips as well, and he didn't think the feeling would be able to escape his grasp anytime soon. Contradictorily, it was like he was falling already, deeper and deeper, drowning in refreshing sweetness for good.
"So." Mio said. "Want to take me somewhere you can offer me a beer?"
Shun couldn’t help but chuckle at Mio's proposition, entertained by the scattered way in which he talked. Still, his words came like waves – both abrupt and certain as he pulled Shun out of the ocean, as he introduced himself, as he asked for a beer – and Shun loved that continuity. There was nothing stifling about it.
"Yeah, ok." He agreed easily. "Let's go."
With that, Shun grabbed his empty beer bottle and both of them stood up, trying to get rid of most of the sand sticking to their skin.
Shun had been hearing waves – the sea’s melody – for his whole life but, when he turned away from the ocean to leave the beach with Mio, the sound seemed to cling to him in a completely different way. This new hold, still encompassing and constitutive of him at its core, reverberated on his body with a distinct harmony Shun never experienced before.
The waves still embraced every curve and corner of him, its sounds filled his ears like usual but, with Mio walking beside him, the torrent appeared to take on a gentler note, flowing through both of them, paradoxically both divided and multiplied in between their bodies. Shun never knew it could feel this good, to feel it in tandem with someone else. He couldn't wait to share all the rest as well, every vulnerable and joyful aspect that comes with navigating a wave.
Shun had been falling – drowning by himself – for a long time, but it was only then that he felt he could let go completely and bask in his descent.
🌙
The room was sparsely illuminated when Shun blinked his eyes open. The heaviness of his eyelids and the bothersome nature of sunlight beams first thing in the morning made him close them again almost immediately, settling further into the mattress. He would have to get up soon anyways but he definitely intended to steal a handful of minutes before that, thank you very much.
"Shun!" Mio whined by his ear, lengthening the vowel like Shun loved.
He groaned in defeat, knowing that his plan wasn’t likely to work anymore. Shun rolled to the side and circled an arm around Mio’s waist to bring his body closer, nuzzling his neck to indulge on the anchoring touch. Years together and Mio still was an ocean, everything Shun ever wanted.
The warmth of his skin – its summer-like and citric scent – was so inviting that Shun squirmed even closer, until his lips were pressed against the smooth planes of Mio’s neck in barely-there kisses of reverence.
“Shun!” He called again, ever persistent. “Wake up!”
“Mhm, yeah yeah.” He grumbled back. “Just a minute.”
Mio’s hand found the mess of Shun’s hair, his fingers tangling with the strands as he leisurely massaged his partner's scalp. They remained in each other’s arms for a while, relishing the familiar comfort their love provided before the inevitable quotidian tasks got a hold of them.
“Hey.” Mio said after a while. He tugged slightly on some of Shun’s hair and slid his hand down, cupping his jaw at last. Shun lifted his head and gazed at Mio with heavy, half-lidded eyes. What a sight he was, dark hair falling in disarray over the white sheets and fair skin on display, Mio just lying there, pretty and reachable, while waiting for Shun to kiss him.
Shun could kiss him for the rest of his days and never grow tired.
(He would too.)
Tired of waiting, Mio pulled Shun down, their lips brushing in an intimate back and forth. They kissed for long minutes, capturing lips and touching tongues and peppering fleeting kisses on cheeks, until their bodies deemed it enough. When they parted, their lips remained so close every rhythmic breath was shared, every little shiver reverberated across their bodies.
“What did you dream about?” Mio asked in a whisper, lips so close to his Shun heard everything, even the faltering syllables.
Naturally, a fond smile formed on his lips. Mio knew the answer but, as usual, he wanted to hear Shun say it. They did this again and again, day after day, and loved every repetition, every wave.
“I was kissing the sand under the sea, and you?”
Shun knew it too, because Mio dreamt the same thing. His answer, though, varied a bit, “I was kissing you.”
☀