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Every night that he can, Sousuke goes to the beach. It's not because of the view, though in a way it is.
He carefully climbs around jagged, black rocks and finds the small ledge at the edge of the cold, lapping water. That's where his merman waits. His tail glitters in the moonlight, shimmering greens and blues, like dappled leaves and shining coral. The merman is always waiting there, sitting on the edge. His lips glisten as he sings softly, a haunting ethereal lull that was a few octaves above human. His sharp cheekbones cast shadows and his jaw line tenses as his tail swishes in the small waves. His eyes are the same colour as his tail, constantly changing and swirling, a whirlpool of deep green threatening to mesmerise Sousuke. His hair is the colour of underwater logs. It's damp, and sticks around his pointed, fin like ears.
When he sees Sousuke, a smile brighter than the moon flashes on his face and he leans his face up. Sousuke bends over and presses his forehead to the merman's cool, damp one. He closes his eyes briefly, feeling the beat of the ocean against his skin. It might be a common greeting among the merpeople.
They don't talk much, they never do. It's hard for the merman anyway, his voice box isn't really built for human language. But Sousuke loves hearing the bubbly sounds that excitedly pour from his throat when he spots something in the ocean he wants Sousuke to see, the way he can mimic the calls of distant whales and the sound of waves crashing against rocks.
He loves the way the merman's tail undulates and his face grows red - like when Sousuke managed to get across what the word 'beautiful' meant. He shakes his head vigorously when Sousuke pays him compliments, but he'll still bring up gifts, like the odd circular shaped instrument carved from coral - that just makes a whistling noise when played in air - or a pearl that looked so pristine Sousuke was afraid to touch it. In return, he brings little bits of technology - a torch, or a singing toy - that send the merman into high pitched squeals of excitement or tumbling back into the water, only his eyes peeking out, wide at the marching robot belting out christmas carols.
Sometimes they fall asleep on each other - which was fair enough, both of them were taking time out of the period they were supposed to be sleeping to see the other - and Sousuke blinks awake to a wet shoulder and the merman to shirt creases on his cheek. His laughter sounds like water bubbling through a creek, the sea receding from the shoreline and Sousuke was sure it was the sound he would remember on his deathbed. When morning comes, the merman's eyes start to glow a dull green, and when Sousuke stands up his shirt is always caught by a slender hand. He's convinced into staying, holding the merman's hand until the sun is well over the horizon and he really needs to go get ready for work.
The merman's webbed fingers tug him down, and their foreheads touch. He closes his eyes to the beat of the rising tide. The merman kisses Sousuke and he is cool and soft, salty and sweet at the same time. Warm currents wash over Sousuke. It might be a common farewell gesture among the merpeople. But they both know it's not. The taste of goodbye lingers on Sousuke's lips all day, but he is not sad.
He will see his merman tonight, as sure as the tide would come in.