Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They say that only fifteen-percent of the ocean has been explored. 

Charted. 

Understood. 

Humans know more of space than they do about the watery depths of the Earth.

Allegedly they do, at least – the universe is constantly expanding. Once, that was only an attribute of far, distant galaxies.

Now, the ocean is doing the same. Every year they lose more land to the growing vastness.

Its hunger is unmatched, and humanity is living on borrowed time.

The first thing they do is make her sign a nondisclosure agreement. 

Par for the course – it’s a pivotal moment in her post-grad life. The laboratory facility is an important one, located on a fixture of land that overlooks the ocean. It boldly faces the very enemy it serves to defeat. That’s exactly why she applied as an intern there. 

Nayeon is twenty-six, now, and her studies have only been in a dogged attempt to aid the cause. She’s no scientist out of personal pleasure – it is a necessity. Because doing something will always be preferable to giving up without a fight.

It seemed quite selfish to dream of an ineffectual career when everything is at stake. 

With rising water levels, rumors too grow in its wake – of siren songs and the glimpse of shining tail fins. They’re crazy, Nayeon concludes – but people have always sought out reasons in madness. They want an interesting explanation for everything, even when science says otherwise. 

No photographic evidence has manifested yet, and she’s a skeptic at best nowadays. 

Nayeon knows better. The sea doesn’t need soldiers in order to be deadly.

When Nayeon signed up as an intern with hopes of gaining an official position, she didn’t expect to be effectively put on night shift janitorial duties.

When she’s lucky, she gets to organize files. Once in a blue moon, maybe even participate in some dialogue. Mostly, they send Nayeon off to mop and feed the fish. At the very least, she has a fancy keycard now with access to the lower level that’s normally off-limits.

Six years of studying for this, Nayeon grouses bitterly every time. The lab is irritatingly dark and eerie at night – especially in the basement area, which always carries unease, knowing the ocean surrounds her, only held at bay by carefully constructed walls.

She trips all the goddamn time. She can’t even use her phone flashlight – has to keep it locked upstairs because of stupid regulations. No recording devices past this point, she reads with a grumble every time. It’s fish for god’s sake. 

Confidential fish, purportedly. 

The only thing that illuminates her path is blinking lights and the myriad of fish tanks – the grandest being in a sprawling, huge dome room in the basement, only accessible with a keycard. 

Somewhere between fifteen to twenty feet high, if she’s eyeballing it. And much, much wider than that. It’s the biggest tank she’s ever seen, but the only thing in there is commonplace ocean fish.

She likes to think she handles the wrench in her circadian rhythm like a champ, but she starts to wonder if the late nights are getting to her when she hears mournful, lonely singing in the halls of the lab. 

Whenever she tries to follow the sound, it leads to a dead end. 

Ghosts, she tells herself with a humored smile. 

The paranormal are the least of her problems. She’s haunted enough as it is.

Nayeon, who had slept well for once, is up early. And by early, she’s up before 5PM. She heads to work at 9. It gives her time to pack a decent meal instead of relying on sandwiches and energy bars and Jihyo's goodwill.

Their kitchen is workable, but far from luxurious – the cupboards squeak and the appliances sputter uselessly at times. The toaster loves burning her bread.

Their landlord barely bothers to fix anything, but Nayeon can’t blame him. If her investment was likely to be underwater in a couple of years, she wouldn’t cough up the money either. Cash is hard to come by.

The apartment itself isn’t very large. It’s a three-bedroom, one bathroom place, but they make it work.

For all intents and purposes, it is a two-bedroom. Nayeon does not venture into the third room. Not anymore. 

Most people already fled the city as the ocean rose. Only the destitute and the desperate – like scientists trying to save the planet or fishermen trying to make a living – bother to stay as the seawater licks at their heels.

One day, there would be nowhere left to run. 

Part of humanity wants to escape out of the atmosphere entirely. Bail on the only home they’ve known in space colonies. The other half wants to save the Earth – believes there is still something to save.

Nayeon falls into the latter category.

“Dahyun and Chaeyoung want to meet you,” Jihyo says today - a rare one, when they actually have time to speak, where Nayeon isn’t sleeping the day away and Jihyo isn’t in bed early like a normal person. “Look, I’ve even vetted my coworkers for you – they’re the most bearable, I promise. You’ll like them.”

“I’m not sure I can have lunch anytime soon with my schedule,” Nayeon replies, scraping some rice into a container. Her lunch hour is at approximately two in the morning, and has been for a couple months now. Socializing hasn’t been a priority of hers for years.

(If not for Jihyo and – and –)

University was a stroke of luck, where she’d run into two kindred spirits, set in the same goals of saving the planet.

“They don’t treat you right at the lab,” Jihyo hedges. This is a conversation they’ve had before, and it will always end the same way. “It’s not healthy to isolate yourself so much – you really ought to try transferring to field work. You could join my crew –”

Her voice is already edged with something Nayeon despises. Jihyo acts more akin to a mom than a friend nowadays, and she's tired of hearing the lecture behind all of their interactions. It’s always there, ever since…

“I’m not interested in being on any ship,” Nayeon replies sharply, white-knuckled as she digs her nails into the cupboard. The ring on her finger inadvertently catches her attention and it makes her turn her head stubbornly elsewhere.

Jihyo looks sympathetic. That’s exactly the expression she expected from her tone. 

Nayeon knows what she’s thinking. Everyone believes she’s afraid of water, and she doesn’t bother to correct them.

Nayeon isn’t afraid of water. She’s afraid of the ocean.

Water in a controlled environment is harmless. No surprises. The ocean, on the other hand, is hostile. Prone to turning its back on you like any temperamental wild animal. 

One may fall in love with the ocean, but she’s a mistress who will never love them back.

It plays no favorites and will choke out the fisherman precisely the same way it’d suffocate the farmer. In all the centuries humans have lived alongside it, the body count is innumerable. There are some things that just shouldn’t mix.

They don’t even know what exists down in those depths. The one certainty that does: 

Death. 

The sea is a harbinger, and no one will convince Nayeon otherwise.  

People who venture out into it are crawling into the maw of a beast that will snuff out a life on a dime. It’s a gamble that Nayeon’s not interested in partaking in. She’s lost too many people already. 

The bodies are never found. Nayeon doesn’t even bat an eye at empty caskets anymore.

So no –

Nayeon isn’t afraid of water. She’s afraid of the unpredictable.

If Im Nayeon held a seashell to her ear, this is what she would hear:

Memento mori.

Sometimes, inside her brain, Nayeon feels like a caged animal at the zoo, pacing and pressing at the bars, understimulated by an insufficient environment. 

After years of study, she hardly even has to use it now – cleaning is as mindless as tasks come. When she’s lucky, she finds ways to linger in the laboratory where the scientists are hard at work. 

(Sure, it might mean they force her on coffee duty, but at least it’s better company than the fish.) 

She can’t help feeling a shred of sympathy for her usual companions, though. Today they have a smattering of fish on the tables – dead or dying – cut open or gasping for life, and they’re studying them intently. 

Something something the changes in the ocean reflects in all the species within it –

Nayeon is interested in biology, but their explanation seems dismissive at best, and then it proves true when they herd her out of the room and send her off for her usual midnight cleaning. 

She only just manages to bite back her complaints. Just a few months, she reminds herself. Surely they’ll let me work soon.

Down in the basement dome is so much darker than the stark lights of the clinical fluorescent lights of the working labs. The towering tank remains there, a blue glow of a light source, but at some point the fish were removed. All the decor of the tank remains – live plants, mossy rocks, the sense of habitat. 

Nayeon eyes it critically. What a waste of space. Perhaps they’re saving it for a more significant specimen. 

She’s mopping the floor, grumbling and cursing about where the water even came from when there’s a movement in the corner in her eye. 

When she follows it, Nayeon falls backwards on her ass in shock, yelping. 

There is a woman in the tank, black hair unfurling in the water.  

A woman – who, now that she has some seconds to gather proper brain function, seems to be laughing at her. The hand over her mouth is doing an awful job at hiding it, if Nayeon is being frank, and –

It’s not a woman at all. 

When her wide eyes fully inspect the being in front of her, there is, quite notably, mint-colored scales that her skin fades into around the waist, and fins, and a tail. 

“Fuck,” Nayeon gasps out incredulously. “Holy shit.”

Now Nayeon knows she must be sleep-deprived. She rubs at her eyes harshly, squeezes them shut. Opens them again. 

The mermaid watches her curiously, and then points up, towards the platform surrounding the top edge of the tank.

Against all of her better judgment – and maybe because this is the most interesting thing that’s happened in months – she obeys. Goes to that ladder she’s never bothered to touch before in the darkest part of the room and climbs.

Her palms sweat, but the platform above is wide enough for Nayeon to sprawl out, and goes around the entire edge on this side of the tank. 

Not that she’s sprawling out. She’s gripping the railing cautiously. From the view, the tank is just as huge from this perspective – there’s part of it that leads to a tunnel in the wall, but the gate is closed. Leading to the open tank outside, she presumes, a domesticated neighbor to the ocean. That tank, too, remains empty. 

Nayeon isn’t usually the type to doubt her senses, but for a brief moment, she almost passes this off as a hallucination. A funny story to tell Jihyo. Or not. She can already imagine the concerned frown – (hey, I imagined a mermaid in the lab today. Mentally I’m A-OK, though! Nothing to see here.) 

But then said mermaid breaches the water. A little too much, now that Nayeon’s more awake. 

“Fuck,” Nayeon gasps and squints, half-covering her eyes. She wants to look to make sure it’s real, but there’s also… also… “Your tits are out!”

The mermaid does not seem to see the issue with this. Its head tilts slightly, eyes questioning. “Is something the matter?” 

Yes! Nayeon’s brain yells, most rationally. Why is there a mermaid here and why is it talking to me in a language I understand and oh my god. Why is it naked?

“Why do you look so startled?” The mermaid tries again, blinking its eyes in the dim, lit underneath by the aquamarine water lights. 

“I’ve never seen a fish with tits before,” Nayeon defends herself.

“I am not a fish,” it – she? replies, affronted. It’s such a human expression of indignance that Nayeon almost bursts into laughter. “I am a siren. And what are tits?” 

“Those,” Nayeon points at the mermaid’s chest the best she can while also half-shielding her eyes. “Can’t you wear a shell over them or something?” 

The mermaid stares at her at length. 

“How would they stay on?” 

Nayeon pauses, pursing her lips. She hadn’t thought that far!

“Why are landwalkers so strange about it?” The mermaid asks, sinking deeper into the water cautiously, and thankfully, her breasts are out of sight. 

“We wear clothes.”

“We wear things, too,” The mermaid says slowly. “But it’s not a necessity.”

“Give me a sec. It’s not every day I talk to a fish.”

Nayeon rubs at her forehead. What a strange night. She’s still not one-hundred percent sure this is real yet. What was in the coffee she drank?

“Stop calling me that!” The mermaid scowls. Unfortunately for her, her voice is the least intimidating thing about her. “My name is Mina.”

Nayeon looks at her skeptically. Mina. What a normal sounding name for a creature. 

“And yours is Nayeon,” Mina concludes. 

“How would you know?!” Nayeon rears back. Do mermaids have psychic powers? She has no idea. She braces her fingers on the rail a little tighter, eyeing the water distrustfully. 

“You wear a nametag.” Mina blinks owlishly.

“Oh,” Nayeon’s shoulders lower slightly, sheepish. “Right.” She licks her lips, feeling awkward. “Can you – you can breathe?”

She studies the gills on the mermaid’s neck. 

Mina doesn’t answer immediately, peering at her with similar caution, perhaps. “Yes. I can breathe underwater and above.” 

Lucky you, Nayeon scoffs inwardly.

Now that she’s had a few minutes to get over the shock, the rational part of herself is telling her to get away. So it turns out mermaids aren’t entirely a fictional concept – but either way, they are spawn of the ocean. The very thing Nayeon despises.

Not to mention the folklore of them heralding destruction – and seduction.

One of the most uncomfortable parts of this meeting is that Nayeon recognizes that Mina is beautiful – the human part, anyway. She wonders if that’s a trap – that she’s staring into the jaws of a carnivore. 

But the other reckless part of her brain is undeniably curious. 

You know what they say about curiosity, a voice reminds her. 

Even so, she finds herself settling down into a cross-legged position. 

“How long have you been here?” Asks Nayeon.

“I don’t know,” Mina skims a finger over the water. “I can’t see the sky here. There are no ocean currents that tell me how the seasons are changing.”

Nayeon hums. It almost comes out sympathetic.

Silence falls between them, but Nayeon’s mind is working overtime. So many questions are popping up. Including, “Wait – you’ve been here for a while, then? How come I never saw you?” 

Mina is inscrutable. “I hide.” A pause, “Usually.” 

Nayeon squints at her. “Why not tonight?” 

She doesn’t return the eye contact, fidgeting a little. “I… was curious.” 

“About me?” 

“I see you the most,” Mina replies. “Alone every night. In the day, there's…” She bites her lip, trailing off. 

That’s when Nayeon notices her teeth – not quite human, sharper than usual, although not to a freakish extent. That’s what she keeps noticing the longer she speaks to Mina. Her humanity is a pale imitation of the real thing, and doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. 

Her teeth are too sharp, her eyes seem to glow in an ethereal manner, her words have a strange accent to Nayeon’s ears, and her skin tone isn’t quite right. 

“You’ve been watching me?” Nayeon eyes her warily. 

“I don’t have much else to watch.” 

Nayeon snorts. “I doubt watching me clean is all that interesting.” 

“I think you’re interesting,” Mina says with a stare that feels too piercing. A smile that feels too honest. 

Nayeon swallows uncomfortably. “You’re not using a spell on me, are you?” 

The mermaid shrinks away slightly. “What spell?”

“I don’t know,” Nayeon folds her arms over her chest protectively. “A mermaid spell. You would know. The – the kind that leads to shipwrecks.” 

“I’m not,” Mina protests, lips parted. 

Leave, Nayeon, leave, her mind badgers her. Her hand unthinkingly finds the rail again.

“So you’re admitting it exists, then,” Nayeon concludes. Just another reason to keep her guard up. 

Mina lowers herself until half her face is underwater, blowing out and disturbing the surface. It would almost be funny – a petulant display, really – if the idea didn’t make the hair on Nayeon’s neck rise. 

“I’ve never used it,” Mina says once she resurfaces, frowning. “It – that only works if you were a man, anyway. Unless…” 

Nayeon’s eyes are critical. “Unless…?” 

“Well,” Mina mumbles. “It depends on what you’re attracted to. It’s not as if we impact that.” Then she lifts her chin, indignant. “And they don’t cause shipwrecks.” 

In other words, Nayeon isn’t really safe. But she’ll keep that to herself – it’d be foolish to show her hand. 

“I don’t know if I’d like to keep the company of something that could influence my mind. Seems risky, don’t you think?” 

“I would never!” Mina protests, eyes shimmering with dismay. She really wants Nayeon to believe her.

Why does she even care? Nayeon thinks, wanting nothing more than to run her hands through her hair in exasperation. 

(Fuck. She can’t even tell Jihyo. Fuck NDAs.) 

“How’d you end up trapped here, then?” Nayeon asks. 

Now Mina’s guard seems raised again. This back and forth seems constant between them. A dance of curiosity versus caution.

Curiosity is winning. Neither of them have fled. 

“I…” Mina starts hesitatingly. “I was with my friends.”

Friends, Nayeon laughs inwardly. A mermaid has a better social life than me. Amazing. 

Mina seems to sense her humor and doesn’t appreciate it. She shifts in the water slightly. 

“Near the surface?” Nayeon prompts.

There’s a careful expression on Mina’s face. Her gaze flickers to the side. “Yes.”

This subject, it seems, is not going to make for much of a conversation. Either it’s a sensitive topic or Mina just doesn’t want to divulge. Probably both. 

“Well,” Nayeon starts, moving to get up. “I better get back to work.” 

“Will you –” Mina breaks off. There’s something so quietly desperate about her. She shakes her head. “I’m happy to have finally talked to you,” she says instead, eyes firmly meeting Nayeon’s. 

Nayeon stills at the unexpected sincerity. Nods. 

Goes down the ladder, and pretends she doesn’t feel the eyes on her as she finishes up.

Pretends she’s not stuck thinking of mermaids as she lays in bed, the sun rising outside.

It’s loneliness, she decides later. 

The desperation in Mina is loneliness – and what a sad, vulnerable chokehold it has. It eats and eats and eats until even the slightest kindness seems akin to a warm hug.

Nayeon is well-acquainted, even if most of it is self-imposed.

She shouldn’t trust Mina. She knows this implicitly – what good would it do to linger alongside a siren, a creature of the deep whose very presence is a portent of disaster? She could believe her words at face value, but that would be foolish. Deception is a common tool, and for all she knows, this stranger could wield it like a knife.

Call it pity, call it curiosity, call it whatever. 

Nayeon manages to work the next few days without paying heed to the mermaid in that giant tank. She works on Saturdays, too, in hopes that showing how hard of a worker she is will impress the higher-ups. 

For now it’s still cleaning duty at an ungodly hour, and her feet finally drag her back up that ladder. Fuck it – it’s a weekend. There’s suspiciously less water on the floor. So she’ll just do a tiny visit, she thinks. 

Mina plays at standoffish – takes a solid three minutes before she emerges from the water. Doesn’t greet her overly enthusiastically in words – but her eyes light up. 

It’s nothing. It’s not much. They’re just two lonely creatures who are trapped by different circumstances. 

That’s all. 

Nayeon would be lying if she said she didn’t start looking forward to it – opting to take her lunch breaks on the platform next to the tank and chatting idly. Mina is happy enough even in silence. It’s getting less weird, talking to a mermaid, and Nayeon can even look past the nudity.

Mina even starts following Nayeon unsubtly as she moves around the room. As far as the tank allows, anyway. She’ll smile when their eyes meet through the thick glass, and Nayeon will stifle a laugh. 

Mina is quick in the water – graceful. Nayeon would love to simply watch and scrutinize it – scientific reasons, of course – but there isn’t really a time where Nayeon enters the room and Mina doesn’t notice. 

They can’t speak unless Nayeon climbs up the ladder, but it’s nice. The room feels brighter somehow. Nayeon hates the custodian shift slightly less. 

In terms of company, well – beggars can’t be choosers.

The closest Nayeon ever gets to the sea is to toss forget-me-nots into it. 

There’s no graves to pay her respects at, after all.

“What do they feed you, anyway?” Nayeon asks, chewing on one of her chopsticks as she idly stirs her veggie fried rice. A rare delicacy. Jihyo ends up leaving her leftovers constantly, but it’s something Nayeon deeply appreciates. She rarely feels like cooking.

The lab often left her to feed a great amount of fish, but never Mina. They don't ever mention the fact there's a mermaid around, notably. But she only sees Mina at night – there’s a whole daytime that Nayeon isn’t privy to. She wonders if she talks to anyone else. 

Mina folds both her arms over the rim of the pool, perching her chin on top. (Again – she looks so human like this.) “Ground up pellets.” 

At the sound of Mina’s voice nearing a grumble, Nayeon makes an inquisitive hum. It’s not often where Mina even sounds anywhere close to complaining, unlike Nayeon. Even though she undoubtedly has more reason to. 

“There used to be fish in the tank with me,” she says glumly, cheek pressing against her arm. “They took them out when they realized I was eating them.”

Nayeon wrinkles her nose. Looks like the teeth aren’t just for show. “Ew, Mina!”

“It’s not as if we can cook underwater,” Mina says defensively, straightening up. A pout appears on her lips, like she’s stung by Nayeon’s reaction.

“Sorry,” Nayeon says. “I’m still not used to the whole… mermaid thing. I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

“It’s all right,” Mina smiles. Nayeon wonders sometimes if Mina would forgive her for anything, and the thought makes her frown. 

She doesn’t like night shift – it’s boring and under her capabilities as a scientist, doing maintenance – but at least with Mina there’s something to look forward to. Something to quell the hum of her busy mind. 

Next time, she brings sushi for lunch. 

Mina is always curious about her food – for the conversation, and because human culture is new to her – but this is the first time that she notes Mina actually seems enticed. 

“You want some?” Nayeon asks, lips twitching upwards in amusement. She’s like a cat, licking her lips and watching her chopsticks raptly. 

“No,” Mina blinks back into focus, apparently embarrassed, ducking deeper into the water. 

“I used to be a vegetarian,” Nayeon reveals after chewing on a roll, and in the wake of her words, there’s a bitter laugh. “But the current climate isn’t so great for farms. It’s too expensive. And what do you know – fish are in abundance.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mina says with those innocent eyes of hers. Nayeon softens. 

Nayeon reaches for sashimi and offers it to Mina. She takes it gratefully with a pleased hum. Raw fish isn’t her favorite, anyway, she reasons, and feeds Mina the rest of it. 

She takes care to pack some in her lunch from then on.

They talk about everything and anything, like two girls at a slumber party. 

They're worlds apart, but discovering each other's.

(“I used to be scared of the dark,” Nayeon meanders into this, into speaking her thoughts out loud, one night. “Child me would fucking despise this job. It’s always so dark in here.”

“Is it?” Mina asks, and sounds genuinely surprised. 

Nayeon narrows her eyes – had sort of suspected it, but didn’t know for sure. “You must – you have better night vision, don’t you?” 

Mina’s smile is a little awkward. “I suppose I must? I’ve never had any vision but this. Things get… less colorful? But I can still see it all. It’s – well, it must be dark. Deeper in the water, I mean.”

Nayeon grimaces. “That’s right.” 

“We’re mostly nocturnal,” Mina says, pushing her hair behind her ear. She does that when she’s self-conscious, Nayeon has noticed.

“Well, I just so happen to be too,” Nayeon’s grin is sharp. 

“But – not naturally? I thought… humans seemed to be active during the day.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Nayeon jokes.

“I don’t sleep well either,” Mina blurts. “It’s hard to, during the day, with all the noise and the – the scientists. I feel like I need to stay alert.”

I haven’t slept well in god knows how long, Nayeon almost reveals. In every difference that Mina carries, there is a similarity. It disconcerts her as much as it comforts her – misery loves company.

“My childhood room had a night light,” Nayeon says instead, a complete tangent that somehow brings them right back to the original topic.

Mina regards her inquisitively.

“My parents put it in there so I would stop crawling into their bed. It worked.” Nayeon smiles a little. “What a silly, infantile fear. The dark isn’t what should’ve scared me.”

“What do you mean?”

“The dark isn’t the scary thing,” Nayeon repeats. “It’s what could lurk in it.”)

(“Monarchies seem terribly antiquated to me,” Nayeon comments, trailing her finger absentmindedly through the cool water. “Letting some old king boss me around. Yuck.”

The cultural exchange is odd at times. Familiar and different all at once. 

“The king doesn’t boss us around,” Mina replies, blinking. “The queen does.”

“Oh,” Nayeon grins. “A matriarchal society. Well. That’s novel.” 

“Is it?” Mina tilts her head, smiling. 

“To me. So you have – palaces?”

“I suppose you could call them that.”

“Ah, the lost city of Atlantis is no longer lost.”

“What?” Mina squints at her. 

Nayeon laughs. “It’s some old myth. Humans used to make stories of underwater cities.” She pauses. “Guess it’s not so much of a story after all.”

“It’s not – all that big,” Mina stammers. 

“In the scope of the ocean,” Nayeon says wryly, “I guess nothing is that big. So does every, ah – siren live there?”

“Not even close,” Mina replies, settling into a more comfortable expression. “There’s other clans, and some who travel across the sea, never settling in one area.” Her gaze grows furtive. 

“Globe-trotters,” Nayeon supplies, half-joking.

“Globe-swimmers,” Mina corrects mindlessly – they tend to do that, amending each other’s wording where it applies wrongly between them, even though they’ve grown used to these differences. The predictability is as entertaining as it is nice.

Then, Mina swallows, twining her hands together. “My mother is one of them. A drifter. She could never seem to stay in one place for more than a season – I haven’t seen her in a long time.” 

Nayeon sits up, cross-legged, interest piqued. “How old are you, Mina?”

“I don’t know,” Mina whispers. “Twenty-five, I guess. If my birthday has passed.” 

Nayeon hums. Thinks of her own mom –  one she hasn’t seen in years, either. After her father’s death, she’d drowned herself in alcohol and other such mind-numbing habits. Moved as far as possible from the water as one can in this day and age, and can only seem to hold onto odd jobs for months at most.

The only time she contacts her nowadays is to ask Nayeon for spare change.

If she’s taught her anything, it’s terrible coping mechanisms and how not to deal with grief.

“Well, looks like we have something in common,” Nayeon offers, eyes shining with resentful blitheness. “My mom is something of a drifter, too.”)

The thing about Mina is that she apologizes a lot.

Nayeon can’t tell if that’s just a quirk of her personality, or if it’s because her own tone often sinks into misguided blame when it comes to the state of the planet. Mina tolerates Nayeon’s bitching like a saint – content to let her vent it out. It’s nice, because while Jihyo is one of her best friends, she’s the type to always suggest solutions to problems.

Mina is always sympathetic and patient. (It’s reminiscent, in a way, and she doesn't know what to feel about that.)

It becomes a strange routine – two months have passed just like that, learning about each other slowly. There’s some unspoken ground they never dare venture onto, however.

Nayeon spends half an hour – maybe close to an hour with Mina. Sometimes in silence, sometimes chatting. The sound of the filtering water almost feels soothing at times, almost putting Nayeon to sleep. 

But this time, when she’s climbing up the ladder and clambers onto the platform, her ring catches on one of the mesh holes underneath, sliding off her finger and plunging into the pool with a tiny splash. 

“Shit, shit!” Nayeon cusses, standing up frantically and wavering in her indecision. Her heart clenches painfully.

Without a further thought, she dives into the water, screwing her eyes shut at the frigid saltwater. Half-blind, Nayeon tries to feebly swim down. She can’t see a thing, and hadn’t even taken her lab coat off, and she’s certainly not the top of the class when it comes to swimming —

In her panic, she tries to breathe, and gets nothing but water. Nayeon desperately swims upwards instead, but she’s approached by Mina, who is wide-eyed and seemingly deciding whether she should touch her or not. 

And then she leans close, so close, that their lips almost touch, and Nayeon sputters at the sudden proximity, bubbles rising to the surface. Continues clawing upwards. 

Mina circles her arms around her and swims strongly, much more powerfully than Nayeon ever could, breaking the surface right away. 

Nayeon takes in air, clutching onto Mina’s shoulders. 

(Had they ever touched before this?)

“Nayeon, what –” Mina breathes out. Her eyelashes are so long, Nayeon notes distantly. “What were you doing? You’re such a clumsy swimmer!”

Dreadful swimming aside, Nayeon is now cognizant that she’d still lost something very precious. She tries to peer under, but it’s impossible to spot anything in the water. Her gasps of air become shaky as her sight blurs with tears.

Stupid, stupid idiot, she berates herself. 

“What is…” Mina starts, catching Nayeon’s attention again. “What is that?” 

What is what? Nayeon wants to snap, short-tempered.

But Mina’s reaching with a tentative finger and swiping across her cheek. 

“Tears,” she answers flatly. She’s not really in the mood for explaining this particular human quirk. 

Don’t sirens cry? Doesn’t every intelligent being have something worth crying for?

Mina gently pushes her towards the ledge so Nayeon can clamber up – luckily there’s a foothold on this side of the tank. 

“What’s wrong?” Mina asks worriedly when Nayeon presses the heel of her palms against her eyes. 

“I lost my ring,” she huffs out a distraught laugh. “It’s very important to me. And I dropped it in a giant tank. Fuck.” 

Mina glances down. “I’ll get it.” 

“How are you going to find it?” Nayeon asks miserably. She peels off her lab coat – completely soaked. Maybe she ought to start wearing a wetsuit underneath. 

“I can find it.” She looks up at her with those ephemeral eyes. “Be right back.” 

With that, she dives back into the water with a flick of that shiny tail. It takes only about a minute before Mina resurfaces, offering the ring to Nayeon. 

The relief she feels is palpable as soon as it slides back on her finger. She closes her eyes and finally allows herself to draw in a deep breath. Then out. 

Nayeon swallows. Mina has a question, it’s apparent the way she’s watching her, but so does she. 

“Why did –” she lets out a short, choppy laugh, “You were so – close.”

Mina shrinks into herself a little, shy. “I thought you were…” She licks her lips. “I thought you couldn’t breathe. You looked like you were struggling.”

Nayeon blushes too, suddenly. “I mean – yeah, but we don’t – humans don’t die instantly underwater.” 

Mina’s half-hiding under her hands. “How was I supposed to know?” She frowns. “You always seemed nervous by the water.” 

I was nervous around you, Nayeon thinks amusedly. 

“It’s whatever,” Nayeon brushes it off. She leans a bit closer – has a strange urge to squeeze Mina’s hand, but they’ve never done that. “Thank you. For getting my ring.” 

Mina nods slowly. There’s a few halting moments where she says nothing. “What does it mean to you?” 

It’s tentative. Like reaching out and anticipating rejection. 

Nayeon almost does, reflexively. She still hasn’t learned to talk about it. Speaking things out loud makes them real – gives them teeth. 

Despite that, she does. Who is Mina going to tell? 

“It’s a matching ring with one of my best friends,” Nayeon explains, staring up and off nowhere in particular. “My friend, J–,” her voice falters, “She went missing months ago. So… I keep it on.”

Mina lowers herself slightly, peering at her. “Were you – lovers?” 

Nayeon leaps up immediately. “No!” She denies hastily, but her heart thunders. She hasn’t told the whole story – how Nayeon had bought both rings, had joked about them being married. But she’d always thought – they’d have time. 

Nayeon thought she had more time. Life waits for no one, She thinks grimly. And neither does death. 

“Why?” Nayeon sputters. It hit too close to home. 

Mina brushes her hair behind her ear. “Back home… when we’re courting, we gift each other pearl jewelry, or other treasures.” 

“Courting,” Nayeon laughs. “Sounds so outdated.” 

Mina moves closer, resting her arms on the platform again. She seems preoccupied, paying no heed to Nayeon’s teasing. “You don’t think – could she be alive?” 

Nayeon scoffs bitterly. “They say it was a drowning. So no. If she were anywhere close to the ocean…” she swallows, eyes stinging. “It’s not a merciful thing. She’s gone.” 

Mina frowns sympathetically. 

“I hate the ocean,” Nayeon tells her impulsively. 

“That’s the only home I’ve ever known.” 

“Well,” Nayeon smiles tightly, bringing her knees up and resting her chin on them, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I hate it.”

Mina’s eyes stay on her. Nayeon doesn’t hate this as much as she used to – is fine with it, really – but sometimes those eyes seem too probing, like Mina can see right through her and the parts of her that are barely holding on, every nasty thought she tucks away. 

“Why?” Mina asks gently. If she’s offended, she doesn’t let it show. 

“It takes everything,” Nayeon pulls herself tighter. “My dad was a marine biologist so I grew up on the coast, but that city no longer exists.” It’s bitter, it’s vitriol. Nayeon sees no point in mincing words. “He was lost at sea. So –” she inhales sharply, “Yeah. I wouldn’t be caught dead messing with that shit.”

Mina, for her part, does look commiserating. Her eyes stare down into the pool below. “I lost my father, too,” she replies quietly. 

“Not by drowning, I’m sure,” Nayeon says, quite rudely. 

The mermaid looks up, then. Her lips press together. “No. He died because of – humans.”

It brings Nayeon pause. “Oh.”

Mina seems to curl in on herself, too. “Some of them,” she starts in a shaking voice, “started hunting us. So – we were forbidden from surfacing. We were told to stop going near humans.” 

Nayeon raises a brow. Hunting? That means – at least between some pockets of people – the sirens were no secret. Perhaps she's been foolish to brush off the hearsay. “And yet…” 

Why were you up there, then? Nayeon wonders. 

“We used to try to save people.” 

Nayeon clicks her tongue. “Really,” she says. Doubt drips into her tone. “Every single one? Surely not all sirens are benevolent.”

Mina nods, squeezing her hands into fists. “We did. My – my clan, at least. I can’t speak for all of us.” She swallows, shoulders falling. “They used that to their advantage. They acted like they needed help, and then…” Mina sighs.

“Most people are shitty,” Nayeon shrugs, too perfunctory. “Some are beyond saving.” 

Mina looks crestfallen.

“I mean –” Nayeon is startled by her own desperate need to soften the blow, “people take advantage of those who are kind. Sometimes you have to just look out for yourself, or at least be selective. Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm – if that analogy makes sense.”

Mina doesn’t respond for a time. Nayeon slowly lets her limbs relax, letting her legs down. She’s thinking of getting up.

The mermaid’s reply, when it finally comes, is quiet. “But I don’t hate humans.” 

Maybe you should, Nayeon almost says. But she’s self-aware enough to realize she’s being bitter. In an attempt to apologize, she reaches out, but her hand hesitates, curling into a loose fist and dropping close to the edge of the platform. “I’m sorry for being callous.” 

Mina stares at it. Nayeon almost second-guesses herself and takes her hand back, but Mina places her hand over top, smiling a little. Then, carefully, she flips it over, traces at her lifeline. It sends tingles up Nayeon’s arm. 

“Tell me about her.” 

“Who?” 

“Your friend,” Mina supplicates, hushed.

Nayeon does, using every word but her name. Against her better judgment, she spills, and spills, and spills.

“You don’t seem stupid enough to get caught,” Nayeon says. She idly fiddles with her ring, now safer and attached to a necklace chain. “No offense.” 

It’s been on her mind more and more lately, ever since her and Mina have reached some sort of tentative – understanding. 

Mina is a lot of things, but she doesn’t seem rebellious, nor one to throw caution to the wind. Nayeon thinks – quite oddly – that if she were in her position, she’d be the one to get ensnared in a net. Not Mina.

But Mina is here.

Mina stares at her for a long moment. “I was helping my friends.”

“Some friends,” Nayeon sniffs. “They left you behind?”

“No,” Mina says fiercely. “I chose to be a distraction, because otherwise –” she stops abruptly. 

Mina – and herself, if she’s being honest – have been opening up more and more. But Mina remains cagey on some topics, this one included. It only feeds Nayeon’s curiosity. 

“Otherwise…?” 

“They needed more time to escape,” Mina lowers her shoulders forlornly. “I didn’t expect – these hunters planned everything. Usually their nets could be clawed out of, but this one…”

“What claws?” Nayeon squints. She doesn’t recall claws.

Mina lifts her hand out of the water and Nayeon reaches out to examine it. There’s slight webbing between her fingers – strange, although it makes sense – but her nails are no more harmful than any person's. 

“They clip them,” Mina explains glumly. 

Nayeon puts their hands together until both their palms lay against each other. Her hands are a bit bigger, and Mina is unsurprisingly cold to the touch, but it’s strange how human it feels otherwise. If Nayeon closed her eyes…

At the thought, she withdraws her hand hastily. 

“I’m sorry,” Nayeon tells her. It’s sincere – Mina deserves more than this.  It’s the first time she wonders what role Mina plays exactly, here in the laboratory. Fuck, she deserves to be in her happy little siren pod, or whatever she called it.

Sirens are a social species, Mina had explained, half-matter-of-fact, half wistful. Being cast out is the greatest punishment anyone could bestow. 

“It’s better that I’m the one caught, anyway,” Mina replies quietly. “Sana and Momo - they couldn’t handle this. They’d get too lonely.”

“And you don’t?”

Mina glances away. Then she ducks her head with a small smile. “I have you, don’t I?” 

Nayeon’s lips part. Something stirs within her.

Three months of late night conversations, and at long last, circumstances change. Some between them – Nayeon does wear a wetsuit, now, just in case, and folds her lab coat off to the side. Mina starts tentatively climbing up onto the platform, her mint scales in full display. 

They finally offer her a promotion of sorts, one where she can actively sit in the laboratory rooms and participate. Still night shift – not quite the glorious position she vies for - but it’s better. But when the lead comments about how they’ll have to find someone else to feed the fish, Nayeon volunteers her time impulsively. 

Two or so hours of her old work, and seven of the new. 

But her legs are heavy, leaden, when she climbs up the ladder to inform Mina. Which feels ridiculous. She never spends more than an hour at most – two if it’s a particularly slow night – with Mina. But she’s inexplicably anxious. 

Her palms hadn’t sweat this much climbing the ladder since the first time. 

It never takes Mina more than a minute to emerge once she does. Today, it takes two.

Nayeon drags her feet. She greets her and digs into her lunchbox, setting out a meal. She places chopsticks next to Mina, up on the platform. This is normal, but Mina is more introspective than usual. 

When they’re finished, there’s nothing to distract from the silence. Time to rip the bandaid off.

“I got a promotion.”

Mina looks at her, eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “What?” 

“Kind of,” Nayeon amends. “They’re going to let me work in the lab and not just be a glorified janitor. Still night shifts, but, ah,” she shrugs loosely, “better than nothing, right?”

But the siren does not look happy, curling up protectively.  

The betrayal glittering in her eyes makes defensiveness grow in Nayeon’s throat before Mina says anything. “What did you think I was here for?”

“I don’t know,” Mina mumbles. She slowly retreats back into the water, and it only makes Nayeon tense. “I thought… you were just a custodian.” 

“I’m here because I want to help save the Earth,” she says tersely. “I didn’t study for years to be on clean-up duty.”

“You’d really work with those people?” Tears spring from Mina’s eyes. The sight strikes Nayeon right between the ribs. “I thought…” she chokes out, “I thought you weren’t like them.”

“I’m a human, Mina,” Nayeon replies in disbelief at her intense reaction. “I have a vested interest in preventing the ocean from rising anymore.” 

Mina slowly swims backwards. “It’s the humans’ fault,” she hisses with pupils narrowed into slits, more animalistic than Nayeon has ever seen her. “We haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

Nayeon can’t help bristling. “Of course you’d prefer if the ocean swallowed the entire Earth, wouldn’t you? You can swim around in your fantastic happy waterpark!” She makes a flourish with her arms. “But it’s not fun for us up here. We’re barely managing to survive.”

A tear falls into the water. It’s nothing in the scope of the gigantic tank. Completely unnoticeable in the myriad H2O molecules. 

But that single drop fills Nayeon’s chest with turmoil.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, then,” Mina whispers. With the anger vanished, only traces of hurt remain.

Nayeon’s trying to find the words to take it back but Mina plunges into the water, swimming to the farthest corner, out of sight.

Nayeon expects some scorned reaction, proof that Mina is mad – as much as she’s capable of, trapped in a tank. Maybe a suspiciously abundant puddle of water splashed on the floor.

But there’s not even that. 

Wherever she is, she hides well. Nayeon can’t find her, although she feels a prickling sensation on her back whenever she turns away, like she’s being watched.

It’s stupid, Nayeon thinks after a week passes. She should be happy now that she’s finally getting to sit down and do real work. But feeding the fish never takes more than an hour, and without Mina, she’s listless for the other hour of voluntary custodian work she kept. 

(Work she kept because she wanted to spend that time with Mina.) 

It’s the end of her work week when she hears it, walking down the dark halls of the laboratory. A sad, distant song.

Not ghosts, of course. But it haunts her all the same. 

Nayeon digs her nails into her arm, frustrated, because the stubborn part of her wants to ignore it. Mina’s dismissal hurt, and she hates that she let herself get so affected. 

She’s berating herself, yet her feet take her back to the dome, sliding her keycard in. She doesn’t even bother checking the main tank, just clambers up that ladder. The singing – not unexpectedly – stopped the moment the door opened. 

“Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?” Nayeon calls to the water. 

There’s no response. 

Nayeon sits down and waits. She could do it. She could leave. 

Five minutes later, Mina surfaces more cautiously than ever, only her eyes peering at her. 

“What do you want from me?” 

Mina closes her eyes, rising more so she can reply. “You’re the one who came here.”

“But you – wait. That’s it, isn’t it? A siren’s song?” Nayeon asks, bristling. Did she come out of her own choice? “You drew me here?”

“I did not,” Mina shakes her head insistently. “It was just… singing. I thought you’d be upstairs already.” Her eyes flicker with hurt. “Why would I force you to come if you didn’t want to be near me?” 

Nayeon swallows down the sudden lump in her throat. She sighs, dragging her hands through her hair, messing it up. “Fuck, Mina. I’m sorry,” she can’t bear to keep looking at her, “I’m awful company. I told you.” 

“I don’t think you are,” Mina says quietly. Her movement disturbs the water.

Mina is so kind. Nayeon might never understand that. Mina cools Nayeon's spitfire nature like no one else. 

“It's not that I didn't want to be near you. I thought you were mad at me.”

“Not you –” Mina’s face pinches, “The scientists. I don’t like them.” Mina coils into herself, closing her eyes. “I don’t know why you want to work with them.”

“We’re trying to save humanity, not hurt you,” Nayeon tells her. “Look, I know you’re upset about the promotion, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe I can get them to treat you kinder. Get some fish in here again.”

She wishes she could promise more – say maybe we can free you after we get the information we need – but Nayeon is still a small fish in a very big pond.

An unreadable look fogs Mina’s gaze. 

Nayeon attempts to shrug nonchalantly. “I’m sorry if that bothers you, but – it’s what I’ve been working towards. If you want me to leave you alone from now on…”

“I don’t,” Mina responds hastily. “I’m just scared things will change. You’re –” 

Her voice sounds small, and stops abruptly. 

Nayeon feels strange – her chest fills with an unfamiliar urge to reassure. It’s stupid that it took her so long to realize, but she’s not someone who lets people in often. Somehow Mina has snuck past all those walls. 

“Hey,” Nayeon says, gentler, reaching out to poke her cheek. Mina suddenly blinks back into attention at the childish action. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Mina brightens at that – shows her a very gummy smile that is captivating in its sincerity. “Are we?”

“Well,” Nayeon snorts. “I thought so. We certainly talk enough.” 

Almost tells her – I talk to you more than anyone nowadays, but that seems sad, even if it’s the truth. 

Mina pouts. “Yes! We’re friends. I just wasn’t sure…”

“Nothing has to change,” Nayeon reassures her. “I’ll try to talk to them when I can, okay?”

“I’m sorry. For being so upset.” Mina’s lip wobbles. “You don't have to do anything.”

“I get it. Historically I’ve said many things in the heat of the moment. And –” Nayeon hesitates a split second, “it’s an upsetting situation for you. I hope… they’ll let you go home sometime.”

Mina nods slowly, eyes shiny.

Home. What a concept. 

It’s funny – Nayeon could go anywhere she wanted, yet home hasn’t felt location-based in years. She's never had the privilege of stability. But the problem with making a home out of anything is that most things are finite.

People especially. 

Why can't anyone just stay, for once? 

Things go on as usual once they smooth things over. 

Nayeon does things in the lab, but still visits Mina as always. She hasn’t quite mustered up the courage to approach the lab heads about it – about improving Mina’s quality of life – while she solidifies her place. Mina herself seems a little more tired lately, which worries Nayeon. Do it soon, she tells herself.

(If you ever need to sleep, you can, Nayeon told her, once. We don’t need to hang out every night. 

You’re the best part of my night, Mina responded stubbornly.

Nayeon didn’t know how to feel about that. Having someone depending on her is foreign.)

But then Mina drops a bombshell on her. It’s been a strange night – Mina’s sleepier, and she came on the platform, so Nayeon eventually patted her lap. The siren had been shy, and Nayeon wasn’t much better, but she was hoping maybe Mina would take up on a nap if she knew she’d stay. 

Nayeon idly strokes through her hair – what else is there to do? Mina makes a happy hum and snuggles close. Despite being constantly underwater, her hair remains so smooth and untangled.

She’s in the middle of wryly thinking maybe I ought to bring a towel at how soaked her lap is, thankful for the wetsuit, when Mina suddenly speaks after minutes of silence.

“Sana fell in love with a landwalker,” Mina says, soft spoken as ever.

Nayeon stills her ministrations. Sana isn’t confusing – she’s heard the name a dozen times now, offhand or otherwise. That’s Mina’s bright, excitable childhood friend. Landwalker isn’t confusing – Mina used it to refer to humans, although less and less the more she talked with Nayeon.

The thing that doesn’t quite compute is a siren fell in love with a human. 

“That’s why we were up on the coast that day,” Mina adds, her voice tinged with nervousness. 

“What – how –” Nayeon stammers, but her tongue is clumsy. She takes a moment to recompose. “How would a relationship like that ever stand? They're from two different worlds, effectively.” 

Mina sits up, although she doesn’t move away. She does seem wracked by anxious energy, though. “I – I don’t know. I’m not the one who fell in love. But Sana – Sana’s always been curious. She loved going up to the beach, so…” Mina worries her lip. “Momo and I usually waited around nearby, just in case.” 

“I still don’t understand how that even happens.”

Mina shrugs. “She never stopped talking about her. And it – it was obviously reciprocated.”

“What could they ever have in common?” Nayeon wrinkles her nose. Her stomach feels… vaguely tied in knots. Disgust? Judgment? She can't place the feeling. 

“We’re talking, aren’t we?” Mina blinks her eyes, wide and pure. “We have things in common.” 

Nayeon lets out a short huff of air. “Yeah, but we’re not dating. I just can’t help wondering what the end goal is, if one is on land, and the other is in the sea.” 

Mina bites her lip. She looks a bit sad, and Nayeon wonders if she’s said something wrong – or maybe her face has betrayed her.

The conversation feels heavy all of a sudden, so Nayeon lets the subject drop, at least verbally.

It gives a whole new thing for Nayeon to roll around and examine in her mind while she tries to sleep.

Despite months of knowing each other, Mina keeps finding ways to surprise her. 

“I miss like every holiday nowadays – Chuseok, Christmas, New Year’s,” Nayeon rattles off, laying down and staring up into that dreary ceiling. “They hang up a bunch of lights in the winter, usually. Not around here, though.” 

It’s only halfhearted complaints. She has no one to spend them with nowadays anyway, other than Jihyo, who has a family of her own. Jihyo does ask her to come with her, but especially now – the thought of taking a week or two off with Mina in the lab is… hard. 

But Mina’s reply is unexpected. “If I show you something,” she asks cautiously, climbing up on the platform, “will you keep it a secret?”

Nayeon laughs. Her coworkers are still awfully dismissive of her, even if she’s working alongside them now. And she's not about to tell them she spends all this time with Mina, so she's not even sure why she's checking. “Pinkie swear.” 

Mina licks her lips, smiling. While briefly distracting, that’s not exactly show-and-tell worthy, so –

And then, a steady line of scales – a dot pattern that follows the sides of her tail, up her arms, under her eyes – begins to glow, starkly apparent in the dim lighting.

Nayeon can’t help but stare. “You have bioluminescence?” 

She’s never seen Mina use bioluminescence. 

Mina looks a little shy under her gaze, turning away. “Like – your own personal light show.”

Nayeon can’t tamp down her grin, pushing at her shoulder lightly. “You are so cheesy.”

Her heart warms internally, though. It’s sweet - it’s so sweet. 

“We use it to communicate,” Mina explains with a small laugh. “I suppose that’s the real purpose.” 

It’s pretty, but Nayeon is curious about what Mina’s telling her. “Like morse code? Or sign language?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Nayeon sighs out a laugh, placing her hand on her forehead. “Oh, um – it’s like an alternative method of communication. Morse code is typically for long distance, though, sign language is with your hands.”

Mina nods, humming an acknowledgement. Then her scales light up again in a flickering sequence before stopping. 

Nayeon squints. “What does that mean?”

“Your favorite word,” Mina grins. “It doesn’t translate exactly, but I think it’s close to fuck you.”

“You just cussed me out in mermaid?!” Nayeon pouts. “And here I thought we had a beautiful friendship! Is this because I showed you what flipping someone off means? That is not my favorite word.”

She pretends like she’s going to get up and leave, but Mina’s fingers reach out to circle around her wrist.

“Don’t go!” Mina giggles. “It’s just a demonstration. I never get to use that.” 

Nayeon almost laughs at that. Mina's such a goody-two-shoes. (Fins? Some sayings don't translate well, either.) 

After settling back down, Nayeon makes a gesture with her hands. Mina watches inquisitively, tilting her head. 

“What is that?”

“It means I love you,” she explains with heated cheeks. It’s the first one that came to mind, but it carries embarrassment alongside it.

Mina stares, lips parted. 

“I don’t remember that many,” Nayeon defends herself. “I had a deaf aunt, but… she passed away when I was young. That one stuck with me, though.” 

Mina is oddly silent, so Nayeon and her big mouth forges on, worried to linger on such a sad topic. 

“So how do you say I love you in mermaid?” 

Mina's eyes widen. 

Think before you speak, stupid! Nayeon slaps herself mentally. 

But there’s no recoiling on Mina’s end.

When her eyes flick to Nayeon's lips, she wonders if she’s made a grave error.

Mina leans closer, and Nayeon doesn’t stop her or move away. She takes in shallow breaths, anticipating. 

What about Jeongyeon? Her heart whispers.

But Nayeon wants happiness. Craves love. She’s only human after all. How long must she be loyal to a memory – to a what-if?

Until the telltale sound of the lab doors unlocking jolts them out of it – there's the shortest handful of seconds as it slides open.

Mina’s neck swivels abruptly at the noise, and there’s a harsh splash as she returns to the pool.

Nayeon pales, fuckfuckfuckfuck. Tries to calm her already racing heart. She crawls away to the opposite side of the platform, clutching her lab coat to her and painstakingly going down the ladder. 

Whoever it is must have stopped to examine the more open side of Mina’s tank, and the filter is noisy enough that it masks Nayeon's movements. She manages to hide until the person exits, exhaling heavily.

She escapes, but it’s a close call. If she were smarter, maybe she would have taken this as a warning.

Flying too close to the sun is not what killed Icarus –

It was the sea that awaited him underneath.

(“How did it end?” Nayeon asks on impulse.

Mina turns inquisitive. “How did what end?” 

“Your friend’s relationship.”

Mina looks away. “I have no clue,” she whispers. “I like to think they’re still together.”

Nayeon, for once, doesn’t express her doubt out loud.)

The light in Mina’s eyes seems dimmer. 

Which sounds absurd – there’s barely any light at all where they convene. But Nayeon’s convinced there’s something wrong, even if Mina doesn’t act like there’s anything amiss. She’s happier when Nayeon is there, she doesn’t doubt that, but being in the laboratory is weighing on her. It’s obvious.

She’s tried a handful of times now to talk to the scientists – once she was officially let into the know that they have a mermaid in captivity – but to little avail. Most of them give her a strange look, one that communicates who cares if she’s being fed pellets as long as it sustains her? 

Others seem a little suspicious of her intentions, and that puts Nayeon on edge. She wishes she was respected at all here – but most of them are in their forties, fifties. She’s an outlier. Most people her age opt for the more exciting field research. 

She’s annoyed about it today. She slips out early with full intentions of visiting Mina, who at least manages to give her a reason to smile. But when walking past an office door that’s just slightly ajar, hushed voices inside.

Nayeon doesn’t eavesdrop unless it’s of any interest to her, usually. But the moment she hears mention of Mina, she freezes, flattening herself against the cool wall to listen.

“How is it that we have had a mermaid in our grasp for months and you still haven’t figured this out?”

“It’s not that easy,” a voice protests. “We’re trying – the process of making artificial gills is promising, but that could take years before it’s a viable, safe option. The mermaid –”

“Obviously she should be your priority,” the other sterner voice rebukes, “transforming people into merfolk is the ideal choice. I’m certain it’s a possibility.”

“If it is, the creature won’t spill,” he replies sullenly. 

“Then make her!” She hisses. One of the leads, presumably – an intimidating middle-aged woman who, nonetheless, was the one who approved Nayeon’s semi-promotion. Miok, if she’s remembering correctly. “She is not our pet. This is for the good of humanity.”

Nayeon tightens her fist, clenches her teeth. The way they speak of Mina worsens her mood.

Not to mention, this is what they’re working towards? Not even to save the Earth anymore? They’re no better than the people trying to eject themselves past the stratosphere permanently. 

As quietly as she can, she continues on her path, but the disgust clings to her.

“You’re upset.”

Mina can obviously tell, and Nayeon has never been good at stuffing her emotions away when she’s brooding. She explained what she heard to Mina, who listened as patiently as ever, but it was hard for her to focus on anything else even afterwards.

Even then, Mina seemed strangely reticent about it. Perhaps she doesn’t like the thought of humans trying to invade the ocean, either.

Nayeon can’t even conceive how they think it’s a possibility. 

“I just don’t know why humanity is so willing to give up their home,” Nayeon says bitterly. “Everyone wants the easy way out.”

“You don’t?”

“I just want things to feel normal again. Fuck. I guess that’s a pipe dream.” She smiles, wan. “Maybe I’m the fool. No wonder no one takes me seriously.”

From her place in the water, that odd, furtive expression crosses Mina’s face again. 

Before Nayeon can sigh and ask her what’s on her mind, Mina suddenly pulls her into the water.

There’s a split second where Nayeon panics, thrashes a little, but Mina wouldn't drag her down. She's just watching her with round, slightly apologetic eyes.

“Why’d you do that?” Nayeon complains – at least she wears a wetsuit now, but it doesn’t mean she likes being in the pool.

“Sorry.” Mina smiles, a touch nervous, and remains close with her hands on Nayeon’s shoulders. The proximity makes her flush a bit. “I don’t like seeing you so sad.” 

Nayeon is about to huff – say that’s life offhandedly, but before she can muster up anything, Mina leans in and kisses her, her hands sliding up to cup her cheeks.

In an instant, her heart sets ablaze, burning the cobwebs of grief and unresolved feelings. She should pull away. She should stop this. 

Her brain distantly warns her that this is a bad idea. Very unwise. 

But, but, but –

Nayeon reciprocates, sighing into Mina’s mouth, her hands trembling the slightest bit as she cradles her head. The siren pushes them until Nayeon’s back is pressed against the edge of the tank next to the platform. 

“Mina,” she breathes out as they part for air briefly. There’s a question in her voice. 

“Shh,” Mina responds, eyes glued to Nayeon’s lips as she gently trails a fingertip past her lower lip. Nayeon can’t help but kiss that finger, eliciting a smile. 

They crash like ocean waves – Nayeon sucks at her bottom lip, and Mina whines. It’s cute. The perfect distraction to keep her mind off things, it turns out.

Mina’s pushing until Nayeon’s clambering back onto the platform, laying flat and stupefied. Even when she's on solid ground, Mina follows, molded to her body. When the kiss deepens, she moans, opening her mouth to Mina. If not for the slightly sharper teeth, nothing feels amiss.

Nayeon feels like she’s breathing for the first time in ages.

Hot embarrassment singes her when she notes arousal stirring within - is she that starved now, that any creature's touch can awaken her like this? 

More shame spills into her - Mina isn't a creature in her eyes anymore, not really, but…

But when her nails drag down her wet back, her fingertips eventually find scales.  

Mina makes soft noises against her mouth, and Nayeon can't help but respond in kind.

Touchstarved as she is, in the face of affection she's lacked for so long, she thinks it. She nearly parts her legs, considers begging Mina to take her to oblivion. 

If Nayeon asked, Mina would. 

There's colder shame, then, dousing Nayeon completely. Mina is already a test subject - the idea of using her for her own pleasure… 

Mina pulls away, hovering over her with swollen lips, blown-out pupils. "You're upset," she says again. 

Nayeon makes a wince of sorts. "I'm stuck in my own head. I'm sorry." 

Mina reluctantly slides off of her, but remains on the platform. She does not retreat to the safety of the water. 

Nayeon stares up at the dark ceiling in a daze. Her legs dangle uselessly in the water. "Why did you kiss me," she tries for accusing, but it comes out small and confused. Like a teen who just made out for the first time.

"Because I like you," Mina answers so earnestly it hurts. “I’ve wanted to.” 

Nayeon shudders. "You shouldn't."

"What do you mean?"

She closes her eyes. "You're a prisoner, Mina. Do you really like me," her voice shakes just a bit, "or am I just your only option?"

Her traitorous heart is happy – wants Mina’s affections, but rationally, she can’t help but doubt it. If she had a choice, would she really choose Nayeon of all people?

Mina settles by her side, snuggling in next to her. Nayeon, for the briefest moment, lets herself imagine they're on a soft, warm bed. One with pillows. A situation where everything makes sense. 

But they're on a platform doused in seawater, both far from dry, and Mina is a mermaid, and Nayeon is a human. Her head rests on a hard surface.

"I’ve never met anyone like you," Mina answers. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

She pushes herself up on her arms when she notices the tears shimmering down Nayeon's cheeks. The words should be a reassurance – a reciprocation of feelings, but they squeeze on her windpipe. 

Why can't you be human, she wants to shout. Why are you so perfect and enchanting and so terribly unfit for me?

“Did I do something wrong?” Mina bites her lip, anxious at the sight. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have –”

Nayeon tries to laugh, but it’s wet and a bit pitiful. She presses her palms against her eyes. “It’s not your fault. I just – how is this ever going to work?” 

“I want you to be happy.” 

It brings Nayeon pause, and she slowly lowers her hands. Mina is watching her with utmost concern. “And I want you to be free.” 

The siren smiles a little sadly. “Can’t we have both?”

Some things are incompatible, Nayeon thinks wistfully. 

“Mina, if – when you get out of here, the last thing I can ask you to do is show up on the shore. That’s so dangerous. You know that.” 

Mina’s eyes shimmer. “But for you I would.” 

Nayeon sits up, reaching to squeeze her arm, pressing her forehead against her shoulder. Her voice stays soft. “It’s not worth it.”

I’m not worth it, she means. Nayeon has always been on the brink of despair, and it's so close now she tastes its bitter tang. 

Mina nuzzles a little closer, her hands hesitantly finding Nayeon’s. “But… while I’m here… couldn’t we?” 

Nayeon swallows thickly. She’s never signed up for such mutually assured heartbreak. If she could predict the future, she'd probably avoid loving at all. Loss always tears her apart. 

What good would it do either of them, to humor these feelings? 

But Nayeon knows it’s too late for her anyway. She’s incredibly slow to warm up to people, and now that Mina’s gotten this far… Nayeon fears her heart isn’t capable of forgetting the imprints people leave on it.

“This isn’t wise of us,” Nayeon tries one last time, though her voice wavers. 

Mina reaches to stroke her cheeks fondly, eyes bright. “No,” she agrees. “But I understand now. Why Sana was so willing to disobey.” 

Nayeon doesn’t really get it – the way her heart can soar and clench painfully all at once. The great contradiction. 

“How much time do we have left?” Mina queries. 

She knows she’s just talking about the night – Nayeon moves to glance at the watch tucked in her lab coat pocket – but she can’t help but wonder how long they have overall.

Enjoy the present, Nayeon snarls at herself. Nothing good will come from envisaging Mina’s inevitable departure. 

“A while yet,” Nayeon answers. Hopes. 

Mina moves near, her gentle hands tracing down Nayeon’s arms to grab hers again. 

They kiss, but it’s softer this time, like Mina wants to imbue it with fond affection.

("Have you ever dated before?" Nayeon mumbles sleepily, cheek pressed against Mina's neck with her eyes closed.

"Courted?" Mina hums, soft. "A few boys tried for a while, but I was…" 

"A lesbian?" 

Mina primly pushes her smile down and rolls her eyes. "I liked a friend," she confesses, shy. "But it didn't work out."

"Which one?" Nayeon peers, opening one eye. 

"It doesn't matter," Mina giggles, leaning her head against hers. "That was years ago.")

(We’re a modern day Romeo and Juliet,” Nayeon jokes, making light of a heavy situation, laying down next to the pool. 

Mina doesn’t respond immediately, so Nayeon pushes up on her elbows to peer at her. 

“What, you’re not going to ask me what Romeo and Juliet is? I had my Shakespeare rant locked and loaded.” 

Mina gives her a beguiling smile. “I know that one,” she laughs, a tad strained. “Sana’s person. She made the same comparison.” 

She doesn’t seem to appreciate the story of Romeo and Juliet very much.

Nayeon frowns. Well, so much for originality.)

Happiness is a fleeting liquid that always spills through her fingers.

Nayeon’s jotting notes down when the program lead suddenly calls her name alongside a handful of other workers. She's almost excited – to be specifically called on. It’s something new.

But that excitement quickly turns to dread as they are led down to the basement, to the dome where Mina is. 

The color of her face drains completely when the lead calls for Mina to be taken out of the tank. 

“She certainly makes us work for it,” Miok clicks her tongue, annoyed. “You’d think after months she’d learn to stop resisting.”

The tank suddenly shifts – various walls closing in to make compartments out of the huge space. Mina is suddenly in view, forced out of hiding to avoid being crushed.

I don’t want to see this. Nayeon is sick to her stomach. 

They force her up to shallow water – on the very platform Nayeon knows so well, now. It’s apparent they’re afraid of Mina, dressed defensively and prodding at her with long metal rods instead of daring to touch her. 

Completely obvious, when Mina hisses, and they force a muzzle on her face.

Nayeon clamps her mouth shut – stop it! stop it! threatening to spill out at any moment.

“Inject her,” Miok instructs. “We don’t need her conscious for a while.” 

Once they jab a needle into Mina’s vein, leaving her to flail weakly until she falls limp, Nayeon can’t stop herself.

“Why are you doing this?” She grits out, voice edged with repulsion. Part of the platform lowers like an elevator, and Nayeon can’t stand to look at Mina like this, so she addresses the other woman instead. “She’s a – she’s a sentient being. ”

“And yet chooses to be obstinate,” Miok growls. “We already tried being nice.”

“You think she’ll want to work with you this way?”

The lead studies her, but Nayeon doesn’t back down. “She doesn’t want to work with us at all. That’s the problem. We’re trying to solve humanity’s crisis.”

“What makes you think a siren will help that?” Nayeon asks, baffled.

“People can become sirens. I’m sure of it – the increase in drownings has been suspicious, hasn’t it?” 

“The ocean level is rising,” Nayeon says flatly.

“We’ve always lived alongside the ocean. There shouldn’t be any notable increase in drownings, and yet…” 

“How do you know the sirens aren’t just drowning people?” Or the darker implications, but Nayeon won’t venture there. Instead she tries a bid, “Why not offer her freedom in exchange for the information you want?”

“You think I haven’t done that?” The lead’s eyes narrow. “She refuses to budge." She carries on. "There’s something strangely human about them, isn’t there? Not just their features. Their mannerisms. The fact that they speak in the same tongue as us.”

Nayeon pauses, barely managing to not display her skepticism. “So what, you think humans just magically turned into merfolk one day?” 

The lead shrugs, ambivalent. “We don’t know where they came from.”

“As if we’ve ever known what’s down there in the ocean?” Nayeon laughs, at a loss. “Wouldn’t that make more sense than believing humans are turning? That – it sounds insane. No offense.” 

“It’s the best chance of survival,” the lead replies grimly. “You think there’s enough room on the space colonies they’re building for all of humanity?” 

“Why are we focusing on becoming sirens instead of saving the land we have?” Nayeon can’t help but ask, completely baffled.

Miok doesn’t respond for a time as they step down the hallway. “How old are you, Nayeon?” 

“Twenty-seven.” 

She smiles, then. “Right. Let me be frank – the Earth has fifteen, maybe twenty years left before there’s nothing sustainable. If you want to live past your forties, you might want to start believing in this. Otherwise,” she fixes her with a look, “why are you here?” 

I don’t know, Nayeon nearly says. But instead, she remains silent. There’s no winning here.

“You never told me it was that horrible.” 

Mina sighs, long and drawn out. She hasn’t been meeting Nayeon’s eye the night after. Nayeon wonders if she’s mad at her for being a bystander. That’s always what she amounts to, it seems. 

“I didn’t want you to get upset.” 

Nayeon draws in a deep breath, trying to relax her rigid posture. “Of course I’d be upset, they’re so –” her lip trembles even at the memory, “They treat you like an animal, Mina. Worse than one.” 

We used to have laws against this, she thinks miserably. But it turns out ethics get thrown out the window when humanity is desperate enough. 

Nayeon rubs at her eyes furiously. Then reaches out to pull at Mina’s arm. “You should get out of here.”

Mina smiles sadly. “I wouldn’t be here if there was a choice.” 

Nayeon sighs. “You can be out of water? Like – indefinitely?” 

“Sort of. But most sirens wouldn’t like to be far from it. We get dehydrated, which is dangerous.” 

“I’m surprised they let you have free rein – like, you can leave your tank, technically.” 

Mina purses her lips. “I’m not getting out of the room regardless, even if I managed to go down the ladder. The doors close automatically.” She climbs up on the platform, laying her head against Nayeon’s shoulder. “Stop fussing about it.”

This line of questioning is effectively useless. Usually security is scarce around the basement dome – surprisingly enough – though perhaps it’s because they don’t want anyone to potentially catch a glimpse of Mina. But she’d never make it out of the lab with Mina in tow, no matter how she’d try.

Nayeon snorts, frowning. “How am I meant to? Seriously, Mina. You should’ve told me.” 

“I don’t want you to get yourself in trouble.” 

There’s a touch of nervousness to her voice now. 

Nayeon is grim. “You think I can just – let this happen?”

Mina squeezes her hands pleadingly. “I’m okay. If you weren’t here it’d be a thousand times worse. I mean it. Don’t try anything.”

It fucking blows. That’s life, she repeats to herself through gritted teeth.

Unfortunately, she starts spending too much time with Mina, fueled by worry. One of the security leads catches her coming down from the ladder when time escapes her and it’s shift change. 

He points a gun at her until she fishes out her keycard and ID, proving she has a right to be here. Jesus. Is that the level of security they’re at? 

All the blood runs out of her body, and she’s numb with fear as she’s pulled into the office of the program lead.

Her luck has run out. 

"What were you doing up there?" Miok grimaces at Nayeon. "If you've done anything to mess with our subject -" 

"Talking," Nayeon lies through her teeth. Can't even bask in the afterglow of her time with Mina. What might be her last time with Mina, she realizes with a spike of misery.

"Talking," the program lead laughs, nudging the security guy next to her as if it were a joke. "The creature hardly communicates. Must make for some terrible company. You risked your job for that?" 

Nayeon bites her tongue, hard. Everything threatening to come out is a defense of Mina, a potential to compromise what they have. 

But Miok's eyes light up. “So you're saying she talks to you, then. We can make a deal unless you want to be fired on the spot.”

Fuck the job, she wants to say. But she can't - no access to the lab means no access to Mina. 

"What?" Nayeon asks cautiously. 

"You have a month to get intel out of the mermaid. If she trusts you," her grin is predatory, "and you succeed, we will pay you handsomely. You'll finally achieve the position you want so badly, Im Nayeon. We can even switch you over to day shift."

Nayeon swallows, and nods. 

They're dangling everything she wanted in front of her, but it's not the same anymore.

(“You should just tell them it’s ridiculous,” Nayeon tells her sullenly after explaining everything to Mina. She’s afraid of all of it – how they’re treating Mina, and the newly imposed time limit. “Seriously. I think she might be a little crazy. How could anyone change into a new species?” 

“A siren wouldn’t want to help someone like them,” Mina responds slowly. “They want to know where our cities are, too. I’d rather die than give humans that information.”

It’s the bluntest Mina has ever been, and Nayeon stares, dismayed. “It’s that serious?” 

“This isn’t about me,” Mina smiles rigidly. “I can’t give up everyone’s safety even for my own freedom.”

Nayeon knows an evasive answer when she gets one. There’s a pang of disappointment – that maybe Mina doesn’t trust her not to go back to the program heads. She’s mildly curious, but not because she wants to betray Mina.

She doesn’t press the subject. Mina's grim expression tells her enough.)

There isn’t even a chance to figure out what she’s going to do.

They gave her a month, but they’re evidently growing more and more frustrated with Mina – they take her at night now, sometimes for the entire night. 

Mina’s been gone two nights in a row, and Nayeon’s chest is tight with concern. She’s not on the team that works specifically with Mina, and she doubts she could bring herself to run any tests on her, but she wishes she knew where she was. 

She climbs up to the platform every night, hoping for any sign of her. 

On the third night, there is one, after a long five minutes. 

Her bioluminescent scales flash weakly as she emerges. Nayeon doesn’t have to ask - she understands implicitly. It’s a SOS in any language. 

Mina has never done that before, and Nayeon wonders if she’s even conscious of it. She’s terrified, reaching down to help her up. “Mina? What’s wrong?” 

It doesn’t help at all when she sees her scales – so much paler than usual, like they’ve been bleached out. She studies her face.

Mina’s eyes are glossy, and she blinks a lot, attempting to focus on Nayeon with a confused frown. “Na – Nayeon? Something… everything feels wrong.”

Her voice slurs, and Nayeon’s brows furrow in deep worry. She holds Mina up because she’s barely able to do so herself, and that’s when she sees it. A line of stitches cut down her body. What the fuck, she exhales, her temper steaming.

The worst part of it is that she feels palpable relief. They could’ve killed Mina – the only true way to dig around and study her biology fully.

"It must be the surgery drugs," Nayeon tries to soothe, completely soaked as she cradles Mina to her. “They’ll wear off.”

"I'm tired," Mina moans, slightly more coherent. "I'm tired of the pellets, and the human probing, and this tiny cage." She weakly tightens her grip on Nayeon, shivering. "The ocean calls for me and I can’t answer."

It’s the first time Mina has ever voiced complaints about her circumstances. It’s bad. 

If you love her, you'll let her go. 

Nayeon gets completely soaked through by how closely she’s clutching Mina. She doesn’t even care anymore. “I’ll get you out of here,” Nayeon vows fiercely. “No more. No more of this.”

Mina rests in her arms.

“I think your sight must be sharper than mine,” Nayeon ventures a few nights later, when Mina is feeling better – at least physically. The gloom shrouding her is still there. 

“Probably,” Mina tries for a smile. “You’re kind of hopeless. In the dark, at least.” 

Nayeon almost returns it and lets things be easy, just for a moment. But she nudges Mina. “You think – when they put in the code for the gates. Could you try remembering which numbers they press?” 

“Nayeon…” Mina looks at her with a severe expression, smile falling. 

“Please. Try – figure that part out for me, and I’ll figure out the rest. Okay?” 

“Nayeon, that’s exactly what I didn’t want –” 

“I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore,” Nayeon hisses. The sight of the stitches is a harsh grip on her heart every time. “Mina. They could kill you.” 

“But what about you?” 

Nayeon grips her shoulders desperately, pressing her forehead against hers. “Enough. We have to do it now,” she reasons. “They’ll fire me in two weeks, and we won’t be able to visit either way.” 

Mina’s eyes glitter with sadness. She wraps her arms around her, clutching her back. “Could you stay longer tonight? Or…” 

“I’ve already been caught,” Nayeon grins crookedly. “My job is as good as done. What else can they do?”

She doesn't even care at this point to speculate if they'll keep a close eye on her. Let them think what they want. 

Mina moves to cup her cheeks instead. Leans in to kiss her and steals Nayeon’s breath away. 

It’s worth it, Nayeon thinks fiercely. 

She lets Mina deepen the kiss with a pleased sound, and returns her passion in full fervor. She could lose hours to this, if they ever had the luxury. 

All their moments have always been stolen, and now, there’s an ending around the corner.

It only takes a few days before Mina reluctantly reports the code to Nayeon.

“That’s all we need, then,” Nayeon whispers, cradling Mina’s hands.

Part of her is excited – Mina, free at last. The other part of her is heavy with dread, but she shoves it away. This might be our last night together, ever. “Thank you. With my keycard and the code, we should be good to go. Hopefully I can figure out how to open the ocean gates. You just have to be ready to swim.” 

“The gates are always slow,” Mina says quietly. “So even if they close soon after, there’ll be enough time.” 

“You’re going to be free,” Nayeon reminds her with a grin, trying to get a smile on her face. 

Instead, there’s a pale misery to her, and tears threatening to fall. 

“The job is meaningless anyway, Mina. I don’t… I don’t give a shit about their fantastical goals. It’s not what I wanted to work towards.” 

“I’m worried about you,” Mina says hoarsely. 

“Well, stop it,” Nayeon prods her. “You’ve been the best part of my life for months, so,” she stops to swallow, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak, “so it’s only fair. Look, I can even wave goodbye on the beach, okay? You can give me a thumbs up to show you made it, and…” 

Despite her attempts to console, Mina only gets more and more watery until she’s sniffling. “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 

Nayeon squeezes her hands. “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” she says – half a tease, but part of it rings too true.

Mina doesn’t get the reference, anyway, and it just makes her break completely, clinging onto her and crying into her chest. 

Nayeon cradles her close, closing her eyes. “Not tonight, then?” She checks gently. 

Mina just shakes her head insistently, clutching her tight with uneven breaths. 

“Tomorrow,” Nayeon whispers against her hair, pretending there aren’t tears of her own threatening to spill.

She just has to act strong for a little while longer.

The ocean takes, and it takes, and it takes. 

She buys a giant bouquet of blue hydrangeas and leaves it on Jihyo’s desk. Thank you, she scribbles.

It just feels right. Nayeon has never been an optimist. 

Mina isn't good at letting go either, it turns out.

They’ve made a plan, and Nayeon fully intends to stick with it, but she stubbornly clings to Nayeon with a surprising strength. 

“This is never going to get any easier,” Nayeon tries, gently trying to pry Mina off of her. “Mina, please.” 

“You still have a week, don’t you?” Mina pleads for any scrap of time.

Nayeon brushes a kiss against her hairline. “We’ve been over this. I’m not risking the chance that they do anything else to you – who knows if they’ll take you elsewhere for days? We have to.” 

It takes another twenty minutes before she finally disentangles herself, and she wishes she could at least see Mina smile, but duty calls. She kisses her one last time, long and filled with too much emotion and unsaid words. Finally, she silently unlatches her necklace and signals Mina to turn around so she can put it on. 

Then Nayeon bites down her wobbling lip at the sight of Mina's anguished eyes, and makes her way down the ladder. She steps past the tank, and Mina swims alongside her, hand brushing against the glass.

Nayeon humors her, presses her hand against it with a grin.

Mina’s scales flash with a pattern she’s never seen before. I don’t speak mermaid, dummy, she would’ve teased, if Mina could hear her.

Get ready, Nayeon mouths at her instead, and reluctantly drags her hand away.

She slides her keycard in the machine, and it lights up. Types the code in without a hitch. All good. There’s a visual of the tank and all the gates and their status listed, open or closed.

Nayeon’s impressed at the ease. No issues for once in my goddamn life.

She closes one of the small compartments in the tank just to test it. Offers a thumbs up to Mina, who’s pressed as close as she can to Nayeon’s position, still looking terribly sad. 

Nayeon points at the gate that leads to the ocean. “I’m doing it now,” Nayeon calls, even if she might not hear it.

She unlocks the inner gate to the water tunnel, and then the ocean gate outside – a direct route. Easy peasy. 

But as soon as she does, alarms start blaring at the same time red lights flash. 

“Oh, shit,” Nayeon laughs in disbelief. That’s not good. Not good at all. 

She turns to Mina ruefully.

Mina stares at her with wide, horrified eyes.

Nayeon steps closer, pointing urgently towards the opening gate. Security will be on her ass at any minute, and she’s not exactly hopefully about the prospects of her continued existence. 

There’s not much hope for her, so she goes out on a limb.

Just like before, she signs it again. I-L-Y. I love you.

Mina shakes her head furiously, signaling to the platform. Just like the first time they met.

There’s the sound of one of the doors clearing someone through and opening. And then another door on the opposite side of the room.

Nayeon can’t believe they’re wasting this much time - Mina has to go - so she clambers up the ladder as fast as humanly possible, falling to her knees at the water’s edge. “Mina, get going,” she hisses as soon as the siren emerges. “We don’t have time to talk! They’ll close the gates!”

Mina leans in to whisper in her ear, “Come with me. You can have all of my secrets.”

There is no choice. There’s the loud steps of security guards climbing the ladder behind her, and a gun clicks behind her. She trusts Mina or she dies - maybe dies anyway, but at least she'll be with Mina in the end instead of bleeding out in a pool.

She takes one last deep breath. The last thing she hears is furious yelling.

Steady ground falls behind Nayeon as the mermaid drags her into the water, tugging her all the way through the closing gate. Mina swims, swims, swims - swifter than any human could ever achieve, and not even the gates can cage her fast enough. 

Nayeon’s head spins as the lack of oxygen begins to suffocate her. There’s no way she’ll make it out alive. Not enough time to breach where the moonlight glitters over the ocean surface to feed her starved lungs.

She feels Mina hesitate, stilling.

The salt tang of the water is what she tastes last. 

For a moment, there is nothing at all before Mina’s kiss breathes life into her.

Her lungs no longer desperately scream for air. The oxygen begins to flow through her. Bones reshape and reform.

Under the moonlit waves, Im Nayeon is born anew.