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Hyunjin didn't usually sleep much.

Most deep water mer lived without much sleep, but Hyunjin had more reason than even most of his own pod.

He twisted in the too-small crevices beneath the coral, the moonlight all together too bright for his eyes. His head rang with too many thoughts for a mer on respite leave from his duties. 

He was made for the ocean floor, the great depths where life thrived on little living, and the dead were common company. 

The indication of other mer sleeping nearby, the coral mer whose pod he and his sister took refuge in, was far too much noise. Deep water mer rarely lived so close together, much less slept in each others' company. But Chan had already been kind enough to find Hyunjin a place to sleep within the pod's territory, so Hyunjin tried to shut up and curl himself into a tight form that would keep the light out.

His dark tail curled around himself, breathing out bubbles to bathe him in memory. 

Deep water mer did not carry any heavier a burden than other mer– that was what Hyunjin believed. To each came their responsibility for the ocean, and at the bottom floor, came the guardianship of grief and death. All things died and all creatures grieved. Hyunjin was barely longer than his mother’s tail when he learned to sing songs of grief, and barely much longer when his tail smoothed out and bore him into adulthood. 

The beauty and magnificence of what precious things he held with his voice, was no more bright and brilliant than when he’d witnessed a whale fall. A great blue whale, larger than any creature he’d ever seen, made it’s descent several days after it’s death, and floated down like a dark curtain. He’d joined his pod in meeting it as it met the dark waters of the crevasse, and sang until it hit the bottom of the floor. Their mourning song called to rest the entire ocean, and Hyunjin had never heard so loud and warm a song– it sank into his bones and left him speechless for several days. 

The water crackled around him in harsh sounds as the reef woke up, Jihyo trilling a song too shrill for him to take, even at the edge of the reef and buried underneath the coral. He groaned and uncurled himself, slinking out like an eel, gliding against the sand to check on his sister before he went to find someplace darker and quieter to rest.

Rest, not sleep. 

Hyunjin had his own cave in the deep crevasse their pod remained guardians within. It was where he and Yeji had journeyed after maturing, following the tunnels further than their pod had before, until they had found the resting place of a whale, long since laid to rest, it’s rib cage housing little sea pigs, and giant isopods, anglerfish regarding them critically as all sorts of bioluminescent radiance in the inky bottom of the ocean that made the place home. The imprints of the tails that had resided there before were etched in the stone, but it was altogether quiet, peaceful. Beautiful.

It was too beautiful, Hyunjin should have known. He felt it in the unsettled waters above him, when the first deaths of his adulthood settled down into the sand, of many scales and fins. 

The light reflected off silver scales that hurried past him in frenzied disruption, cutting Hyunjin off. He scowled, momentarily blinded as he swam straight into the rocks and bowled over another mer. 

Still having trouble seeing? Jisung’s shrill annoying laughter accompanied a gentle tug on Hyunjin’s arm, pulling him under the coral into the shade again, It’s funny, you deep sea mer with the light, Lia as an arctic mer with the warmth. And you both somehow picked us as your pod for a season!

Hyunjin didn’t answer him, only blinked and waited for his sight to return, blurry, but better than the first morning they had rested with the pod. Jisung’s face was not as teasing as he expected, patiently floating next to him and watching the sand, as seastars slowly made their journey from one coral formation to the next. Hyunjin found himself pulled by it’s beauty– the sort of still standing of time he was used to on the ocean floor. 

You should travel near the drop-off, if you’re trying to get from one end of the coral to their other, Jisung said quietly, That’s what Lia does. It’s cooler, and there’s shade cast by the cliff edge. You know it, it’s off between the open ocean, and the inlet rock formations where the cavern mer hide.

Hyunjin knew it. It was also where Chan would hunt sharks, and all the social mer of the reef would launch off their adventures. 

Mm. Perhaps. Thank you.

Now Jisung gave him a funny look, as though Hyunjin’s lack of civil conversations were glaringly obvious. Hyunjin scowled and pushed of the sand, sliding to the open ocean and the drop-off and not thinking of Jisung’s naive smile behind him. 

Perhaps he would meet Seungmin. Seungmin was like him, of few words, and simple joys. Him and his novel little octopus, Birdie. Nothing like the giant squid Hyunjin and Yeji had watched battling the whales of the deep, cowering in their caves and marking shadows and sudden currents for their safety. 

That was the problem with the deep sea. In all it’s grandeur and beauty, it hid the greatest sort of things. 

The sperm whales were lovely and kind, but only as much as their battle scars allowed. Squid were… curious. Like Birdie. But also easily angered. And when angered…

A thrumming feeling ran from Hyunjin’s head down to his fluke, and he stopped suddenly, looking out into the endless blue of the ocean. The little fish and bright colors of the coral were far too simple for him. The mer were flighty and unbothered. 

He was born for weightier things. 

Settling his mind, he felt Seungmin swimming up to his side before he saw him. Birdie wrapped her legs between his fingers in greeting, shooting up to muss the fringes of his hair before darting back to wrap around Seungmin’s back. 

Seungmin smiled, and they swam silently, side by side, along the shadow of the rocks. 

The water dropped off to another shelf, before the deeper bottom of the open ocean that sloped and leveled out into the great waters. There were many things that died out there that Hyunjin never had the chance to see before mer came to mourn it down in the deep, but most life found their way to the dark bottom. 

And as they floated down, they changed. In weight and color– Changbin's bright tail was green-ish, and dull, whereas Chan's tail morphed into a bright glowing white. Hyunjin liked to think the depths were a filter for the gaudy, as much as they were a scale for the soul.

Seungmin’s tail was darker than Hyunjin’s in this light, hewn with a glittering silver that changed color depending on the light. Hyunjin’s was a deep scaly purple, something deeper and shadowed in the waters of little light where he lived. In the deep it would glow a bioluminescent yellow along the edges of his fluke and the twirling dorsals that lined the sides of his tail. His tail seemed dull and odd, an offset sort of brightness that didn’t belong, to him at least. But it could almost fit in the space between the open ocean and the coral, if Hyunjin didn’t wince at the sunlight and hide behind the long bangs of his hair. He was long and pale and what would have been handsome in his pod was suddenly scary to the little coral mer that darted in and out. 

The only exception was Felix, who trilled sweetly over the patterning of his tail and didn’t ask too many questions. Minho had let Felix sleep with Hyunjin a night or two, and Hyunjin still didn’t grasp what caused Minho to trust him so easily. 

Minho, who slept a ways away from the rest of the reef pod, who trusted only the great humpback he had traveled with and protected her calf as the little thing learned to explore. Minho, who shared few words with Chan, and would hunt on his own. 

Minho, who didn’t seem to trust anyone. 

He remembered Minho’s gentle hands brushing back his hair when they first met at the edge of where the whale waited to birth. There was something in Minho that reminded Hyunjin of the timeless things in the deep– the way he saw Yeji hiding behind him and knew to not ask, the way he would reach out and gently touch Hyunjin to get his attention, the way his eyes were never flared with any sort of urgency.

Seungmin stilled where Hyunjin expected him to– and he didn’t need to turn his head to know Seungmin’s attention had latched on where Chan was leading Lia and some of the others from the coral pod to the magma trenches, where Changbin laughed loudly, with his whole chest, and made a big show of small things to put people at ease.

If Hyunjin hadn’t been on such a mission to see his sister, he would’ve melted into the little group and joined, just for the sake of something to keep his mind off things. 

By his side, Seungmin fidgeted with his fingers for a moment, before Birdie made up her mind for both of them and shot after Chan to grab his wrist and get a free ride to the warmer waters, leaving an apologetic Seungmin to politely say his goodbyes and chase after her. 

In his heart, Hyunjin was glad to see Seungmin changing and growing. It used to just be Hyunjin tugging his ear and telling him to stay the night in the caves when he’d visit without ever mourning, and however speechless he’d want that friendship to be, Hyunjin would leave space for. There was the occasional nagging to let someone comb Seungmin’s hair out or to weave a new bag instead of waiting for his old one to become bottomless and lose all the stones he polished with such care into round beautiful moonstones, but it was nothing like what Chan easily offered. 

The water ebbed and flowed as it traveled with them towards the magma flows. Hyunjin twisted closer to the stone face of the cliff, reaching out to skim the stone as he swam close to it. He closed his eyes to off-set the burn that was starting to ache behind his eyes, and let the pull of the ocean song take him where he needed to go. As it always did. 

He remembered when he waited for the ocean to deliver him his first deaths– an open ocean pod torn by storm and pain. There were too many for him to lay to rest on his own. It was just him and Yeji, carrying the young and old bodies together, the only sounds to escape them the mourning of their hearts out of respect and sheer grief over the tragedy of such loss, that called more of the pod to tend to the dead. 

He remembered waiting for Chan to come, expecting his grieving. He didn’t even know Chan’s name or face, but the ocean pulled his voice and the voices of the mer that bubbled in unrest at this new face, foreign and unfamiliar to them. 

When Chan came, it was late in the season, the bodies returned to the life of the ocean floor, but it made no difference to Hyunjin. There was a peace to Chan, a steady acceptance and joy at finishing his grieving. He requested the place of his family, and when Hyunjin showed him, the dark blue scales faded and changed but nonetheless there, Chan smiled and asked Hyunjin if he could be left alone for a moment. Hyunjin waited around the corner, just a pace away, where he and Yeji watched and listened curiously, as Chan’s mourning song began. It was a sight he wasn’t used to– most started their grieving in an open mourning in the deep. 

To end it in such a way was like bidding a final farewell, welcoming the changed path of the future with open arms. 

Hyunjin had never witnessed a more beautiful mourning. It called and pulled to the ocean around him. Everything set still. Hyunjin and Yeji couldn’t help but feel their souls pulled into Chan’s voice, in harmonies that danced and melded together into a song of the ocean that sang Chan’s pod to rest. 

That was one of the only times Hyunjin hugged a mer who had come to him to mourn, and thanked him for the honor of listening. 

Chan left and became part of the coral pod as though he were made for it. And anyone who saw him, never thought any differently. 

It was as though he were meant to be there all along, and the currents were changed just for him to come to them. But Hyunjin knew better than to say that out loud– not everyone knew what it meant for life to unravel the way it was meant to be.

If they had heard such a mourning song of joy and hope, they might’ve.

In his soul, Hyunjin wished for such a song, as he rose up to clear the edge of the drop-off, and slowly made his way back into the midst of the reef. All the little fish he didn’t know the names of scattered in his presence, and cautiously darted around him. Hyunjin paused at a long fish that Jisung said he looked like– a moray eel, which darted out and showed its jaw to intimidate, before slipping back under the rocks, with shining beady eyes of warning keeping him pinned in the sand. 

It made Hyunjin smile. 

Hyunjin!

The first instinct in Hyunjin’s chest made him dart back a moment, everything but his eyes pinning the sound of the voice and the flurry of a tail headed towards him from a general direction long before his eyes could squint through the veil of his hair and make out the bright highlights of pink and purple on scales of dark teal and realize a moment before he was bowled over–

Ryujin?

Yeji, it’s Yeji– come? Come now, quickly–

There were three songs Hyunjin would never forget. The first was his whole pod singing for the fall of a great blue whale, a magnificent choir that honored its life. The second was the peace of Chan’s mourning song, so different and accepting, as he laid to rest and opened his hands for the ocean to take what belonged to it, and show him what his life would look like now. 

Where is she?

Here, just here, Ryujin pointed ahead, we slept close to each other, a small distance away, and she was still sleeping, and I heard her–

The third mourning song was Yeji's.

Hyunjin pulled ahead and stopped above the coral rocks he could hear Yeji shifting beneath. There was a low pulsing groan, and the grating sound of scales against rock. There was a low muttering song, the type that Hyunjin would only ever hear when she slept.

He remembered when he’d followed it, down at the bottom of the crevasse, and seen Yeji muttering and tugging her hair in her sleep, and when he’d woken her–

Yeji? Yah, Yeji-ah–

Hyunjin slipped in, the way that Ryujin and all other coral mer could not, right between the sand and the rock and twisting around to fit in the spaces between her writhing. The light was low, under here. It was almost like the deep. 

The unpleasant places of the deep. 

Yeji’s arms covered her face, fingers in her hair as she jerked and twisted uncomfortably. Hyunjin couldn’t hold her face, she moved too fast, and in too tight a space. 

Hey, wake up– stop that, wake up!

Back in the depths, she didn’t wake up. He could only manhandle her to stop hurting herself, and wait for the tense lines of her face to smooth out. He wrote it off to nightmares– sometimes the heavy burden of death weighed more heavily on her soul. 

It was why deep sea mer made the requests for respite in other pods anyway. 

But never so young. 

Never so soon. 

Hng… no… no–

Stop it, he gritted his teeth and tried to grab her arms, wake up!

It wasn’t just a nightmare. Back then, Hyunjin didn’t know, but now that he did, there was a dark urgency in him for Yeji to open her eyes and see, see how safe you are!

He hadn’t had the eyes nor the ears for it back then. He was naive, and life was simple. When his normally playful sister became skittish, he figured it was time they stopped teasing each other anyway. When she hid her face, and excused the bruises along her arms, he assumed she had a clumsy life outside of what little he knew of her. And when she stopped speaking to him altogether–

Let go, let go– she began to groan.

And Hyunjin would have, if he didn’t have the knowledge he did, Wake up first, open your eyes, open them!

He remembered it clearly, as clear as moonstones, that dreadful night Yeji began her song. It was so raw and powerful, Hyunjin couldn’t sleep. He laid awake, and listened, trying to discern for who’s untimely end she sang and mourned for. 

The horror at realizing it was her own was bitter on his tongue.

The song was not pretty. It did not round itself out in melodies and harmonies of a life well-finished and returned to the sea. And there was no other voice that ever joined Yeji’s.

It lasted several days, and several nights. It never ended. 

The edges of that same song bled into Yeji’s muttering, into her low groaning, and Hyunjin hissed and clicked furiously to snap her out of her haze, when she twisted away and brought her teeth to her own arm, as though in a desperate attempt to control herself, biting down with such force it tore through the leather and he thought he heard bone snap. 

Blood muddied the water instantly. 

Hyunjin’s mind fled into a panic– back when his ears were bleeding with Yeji’s mourning, and he followed her song to find her slowly and aimlessly drifting between the depths, away from him as he tried to grasp her. 

He had known something was wrong. 

He had known and in a panic, had tried to reach out and hold her, only for her singing to shriek in despair, pushing away from him and swimming until she found an old weathered rib cage of some great fallen beast to hide herself within. He had sang back in despair, called out for her to reach out and take his help. But she held herself and mourned such bone-chilling misery that he could only hold his head in grief as it echoed coldly between his ears.

At least this time, Hyunjin was there to see it. And to hold her.

He tugged her out of the rocks in an instant, pulling her arm from her teeth and firmly holding her face with both his hands. For a horrid moment, he considered pulling her above water, to make her sputter and gasp in the light and air in torture, but her hands found his wrists before he could fully consider it, and she began to open her eyes. 

There had been no relief back then. Hyunjin couldn’t remember how it happened, only that Seungmin had heard them, and had watched them, crying from above as he sent for Chan. Several of the coral mer and those who had heard had come– Hyunjin didn’t remember who, only that Changbin strongly looped his arms beneath Hyunjin’s and pulled him up out of the dark. Yeji had been limp between Jisung and Lia, a concerned Felix clicking and guiding them in concern. Hyunjin remembered waking up at night, inside Seungmin’s cave, watching the nervous cavern mer lay oysters for him to eat. He remembered ignoring the kindness to find Yeji, asleep and curled up in a neighboring cavern. 

Back then, to see her asleep was relief enough. 

Yeji winced as she opened her eyes to sunlight, eyes whirling around to realize where she was. When she finally placed herself in reality, her eyes landed on Hyunjin’s, and her grip on his wrists slowly released. 

Hyunjin floated back a pace as Ryujin rushed to embrace her, wrapping her whole bright tail around Yeji’s long darker one and wordlessly humming a reassurance that she wouldn’t leave. 

Hyunjin waited, to reassure himself, and then swam a distance away. 

Back then, she’d finally told him. In the open water where the dark didn’t encroach upon her every nightmare, she had the strength to finally put it to words. She’d sobbed and nearly drowned herself in mourning again to tell him. 

He could have torn a shark from jaw to tail with the rage it gave him. 

He’d gone on her behalf to beg for respite from their pod, and taken Chan to keep him from murdering the mer who put her through such grief. 

There was little justice to be had among the deep sea mer. They only clicked their tongues at her “weak mind” and dismissed her to the coral reef for respite. Hyunjin had nearly lost himself to madness when the mer dared to ask if he could visit, and how he would miss Yeji’s sweet voice. 

Chan had pulled Hyunjin away, and Hyunin had not found reason in himself to return till at least one song had finished to peace. 

He watched as Yeji purposefully pulled away from his sight, taking Ryujin’s offer to swim to the magma fields to meet Chaeryeong. She didn’t look back at him, and he had a feeling that if she did, she would never shake the memory of what she had left for.

The truth was– that it was her respite, which Hyunjin was watching over. He had no reason to stay. It would probably be for the better that he returned. 

He would go and simmer in his anger and she would finally be able to move on.

It was Chan again, who found Hyunjin drifting aimlessly and thoughtless just outside the reef, where the open-ocean met the coral and the drop-off. He was alone, armed with a hunting spear. 

Hunt with me?

Hyunjin always said yes. And Chan never said anything about the aggression he had that no deep sea mer ever possessed. They parted ways wordlessly, as always, and Hyunjin always took a handful of shark teeth to leave in the sand at the coral Yeji slept at. 

That was how he lived his respite. He swam to the far edge of the pod’s territory and wrapped himself up in sleep. No one dared bother him. 

Until someone did. 

It was with surprise that Hyunjin slept at all, and woke up one night to four bright eyes peering through the holes of the rocks. As he startled, the four eyes had two accompanying smiles, flashing sharp pearly teeth that giggled and swam around the coral to wait for him. 

He slinked out, close to the sand, smiling to himself as the young mer giggled and teased just beyond his sight. It was no matter– he could sense them.

He let Jeongin come up behind him, wiggling between his arm and the sand till he fit in his embrace, cooing a darling sweet song of playfulness. It was accompanied by Felix twirling above him, curiously tugging Hyunjin’s hair out of his face to see his expression, before smiling deeply and broadly and singing for him to follow. 

Come-come-see-come-see-come-see-come-come!

Hyunjin followed slowly, the two little mer darting and dancing between the coral, creating a new current for themselves. They stopped over a large frogfish, with its angry looking expression and hobbling body. Jeongin imitated its pout, sending Felix rolling in laughter. Felix swam right up to its face, conjuring up a deep sound from his chest.

…. BAH!

It sent the fish backwards and the two mer into a gaggle of giggles, Hyunjin sputtering at their carefreeness. He looked down at the poor confused fish, stroking it gently and raising an eyebrow as it spun its eyes up at him over the audacity of it all. 

Hyunjin barely had an answer for it, before Felix and Jeongin pulled him somewhere else. From one coral to another, one odd looking fish to the next. From bubble coral to manta rays, they seemed to find amusement in it all, and their childishness endeared Hyunjin. They laid in the sand staring at the feather stars as they flew across the water, humming and admiring it out in the sands.

He didn’t know how long they explored so carefreely, and he didn’t know why. He could feel them both start to lull in sleep as the face of the water lit up in the setting sun.

Come, he tugged them both. Jeongin’s tail swam his tired self back to the kelp forest, while Hyunjin dragged Felix to the knoll where the humpback had birthed her calf and could be seen playing with the new little thing between the coral and the sea beyond. Minho met them halfway to pull a sleepy Felix into his arms. Hyunjin turned to leave them, the sight too sweet for him, when Minho called out–

It’s a beautiful thing to have someone to hold. 

Hyunjin turned back and watched, trying to ignore his pain and Felix curled into Minho’s embrace. 

Trust and love are not too far from each other, he looked at Hyunjin as though he understood things that were unsaid, and it is no small thing to be responsible for both. 

Hyunjin couldn’t say much. So he bowed his head and swam off to where he spent his nights, staring at the sand below and the moonlight above and wondering when he would have to return to his own pod and place in the sea. 

He would swim aimlessly again, fighting the urge to check up on Yeji, until Chan brought him into another hunt. Sometimes he would just find Seungmin, and curl up in the caves until he was able to rest.

The days Ryujin would come to find him grew further and further between. And then stopped altogether. 

He went to seek Yeji out once. She was skittish and nervous as he swan beside her, a cold night when their tails spun like ink through the warmer waters.

Are you at peace with it?

She didn't look him in the eye, …perhaps.

Have you thought–?

Yes.

He tried pulling ahead to look her in the eye when he asked, but she pulled her head down and let her hair flow between them so that he could not.

Yeji—

I'm not going back.

Hyunjin had only touched an anemone once. He hadn't listened to Jisung, he wanted to see if the clownfish would come to his fingers like he'd coaxed some of the other fish, forgetting altogether that his fingers invaded the private space of another creature in doing so.

The shock of it felt similar to this.

W-what?

He'd stopped swimming, bobbing at the edge of the reef when Yeji finally pulled her hair away from her face. Her brows pinched together in determination, every part of her stitched tightly in defense.

A stone-firm part of his mind knew the logic of it, but it broke against the other part of design. 

Because she could go back with his protection. He would tear teeth out for her, he’d never let it happen again, but in that paradox, he never factored that she never had to return altogether.

He tried again, Yeji, we're made for… our purpose–

Can be done here, you know, she clicked back, Plenty grieve here, plenty don't meet the depths, plenty… it isn't common, but for those who do it… all I mean is my place doesn't need to be back there. It could be here… couldn't it?

Hyunjin hadn't a response for her. The sun hurt his eyes, the water was too warm at midday, and nothing would change that. 

Yeji's head was tilted down but her eyes hesitantly looked up, searching for his answer.

He broke his hesitation to reach out and give her his hand, which she took to interlace their fingers– a promise of love that didn't come undone when words and logic failed.

They parted ways that night.

That was when he knew. 

You’re going back? Chan’s eyes widened, as though he had not expected the respite period to ever come to an end. 

Hyunjin folded his arms uncomfortably and nodded, trying to not look him in the eye. Whatever Yeji decided on the length of her time in another pod was her business, but Hyunjin’s job was done. 

He'd come for her. She didn't need him anymore.

Even Changbin seemed surprised, drawing closer and frowning, You feel safe to return?

It was not me who was unsafe, he flicked his tail to put some distance between them, so he didn’t feel as crowded, Besides. I belong with my pod. 

Hyunjin might have heard Minho laugh bitterly, but when he looked up, Minho’s face was neutral and calm, with a bit of sadness shadowing his eyes, as though he would actually miss Hyunjin’s interruption. 

There was something in there Hyunjin did not understand– Minho and Felix would also leave when the great humpback could take her calf back to deeper waters. He flinched and turned as Jisung clicked a song and dove after Felix, as the freckled mer rushed down off the drop-off with a large conch shell in his hands. He shrieked when an unsettled crab stuck its claws and eyes out to see what the matter was, throwing it to Jisung who screamed and threw it back. Seungmin darted after them, his little octopus trying to snatch the thing from them before the crab became too unsettled, only to meet the sharp ends of its claws and draw back indignantly. 

He turned away before he could grow too fond.  

You don’t need to leave… Chan tried reasoning, while Changbin plainly huffed, frustrated, You probably shouldn’t.

I’m a deep sea mer–

So?

And there was nothing he could say to that anymore.

He thought about it as he swam back down to his corner of the crevasse. He gave a wide berth to the six gilled shark, that seemed to perpetually be defending the depths from any who might wander out of their way.  He waited till the giant oarfish decided its path to catch fish, while anglerfish  full of light and traps waited patiently. When the viperfish came near him, he dared stick a finger out to poke their long teeth, before darting down and away before they became too angered, before he finally reached the bottom of the crevasse. He followed the sand and stone, slowly passing the ribcage of the great whale, whose ribs were now torn apart to keep anyone from caging themselves. Little sea piggies danced in greeting to him. 

His cave hadn’t changed. He chased away some giant isopods that had tried to gather there, letting them scuttle off to find another abandoned corner of the crevasse bottom to meet. Then he traced the walls of the place that had been his home, three times around, before settling in the center of it, looking out at the dark ink of the ocean. 

Little jellyfish of yellow and green dotted and glowed at night, and Hyunjin found himself thinking they were his stars.

Not too long ago, he had looked at the stars and thought they were the beauty of the deep water jellyfish brought to the poor mer of the reef who didn’t know better. 

It was strange how quickly his reality had reversed.

Hyunjin slept for days on end at first, before he worked up the courage to sing his arrival back to the depths. He didn’t dare to actually go out and meet the pod, for the sake of his own patience. All the same, his mother came to visit, a coat of dark leathered skin between her arms that she casually drew around his shoulder as they swam the length of the ocean floor, up to the hot water bursting from within the earth.

She had a matching coat in her arms, of a slimmer cut.

Yeji did not return with me.

I see, his mother’s voice was tinged in sadness, the sort that tried to remain neutral, do you think… she will ever?

I hope she won’t.

He said it for her, not himself. He let his words hang heavy, waiting till his mother nodded in understanding.

We… sent him away.

Who?

You know. Her hand dropped to skim the sand beneath them as they swan, kicking up a cloud in their wake, The elders appointed him respite. Open ocean.

Despite the bitter victory that leapt in his heart …why?

She didn’t speak, like she didn’t have an answer, only a hope. 

When they came to the edge of Hyunjin’s corner of the depths, where the skulls of the open ocean mer were laid to rest, slowly sinking in the sand with their dark scales, she stopped and looked up, up to where the sun and sand were warm, at the faded and blurry light that was barely visible, as more of a mirage than a thing to be looked up to. 

I can’t imagine she could ever find her home here again, she said softly, and if she did, it would never give her peace.

Hyunjin did not want to speak for his sister, but he’d come to the same belief, in the small part of his heart he’d hidden away in a frugal hope. 

But where else would she belong? He sang quietly.

His mother hummed, gently running her hands across the coat in her arms, before letting it float from her grasp and into her son’s.

Belonging… she slowly looked up at him, is a strange word.

We belong with our pod.

You belong where you’re loved, she looked out with a soft smile, feeling the ocean move as larger creatures approached the water of it’s depths, And who is to say that a pod is made by the same color of tails?

Hyunjin frowned, holding the coat close, But… but who else would understand… who else could understand?

She didn't answer. She wasn't really listening, eyes glazed over.

Is she… happy?

Hyunjin loosened, reaching out to take his mother's hand, more bony and shaky than he remembered.

Yes. He reassured her softly, She has made friends. She is… well-loved.

A floating song of relief bubbled from his mother's throat, her eyes still up to the light, squeezing his fingers once before letting them go.

Mm, good… good…

A thousand questions about how all of this could be– how they could have been punished first before him, how Yeji could have healed in grafting herself somewhere she was not made for, how they both could have been cut from the same cloth and yet so different–

But his mother was gone, and only the small jellies of the night floated before his face in soft consolation. The coat was strangely warm in his arms. He left it in his cave and sleeplessly curled in himself that night, and many nights after.

The dead came and grieved. Hyunjin sang for them, sang with them, and was left in peace. If he didn't think too hard about what was missing, nothing had changed.

If he craned his ears, some nights he could hear Yeji singing again, and he'd wonder anew, how, how, how .

Just as he wondered why his mother had cut them coats much thinner than before, with no sleeves, cropped up to let the heat leave the body.

Hyunjin listened carefully to the calls of the ocean– when Chan would sing a victory over a hunt, when the seasons changed and a pod gathered, when Seungmin would visit, sending Hyunjin little more than a darting octopus to warn of his arrival.

You could hear me coming anyway, he'd tease, and Hyunjin would let him share his cave for as long as he wished to stay.

It would be many days on end, where he’d watch the odd life that hid at the bottom of the crevasse. They wouldn’t say much– Hyunjin would toss him an odd shell he’d found, and Seungmin would return it carved into something beautiful by the end of the day. Birdie would curl up in the sand and pulse colors to the songs that echoed, tasting whatever flashed a tasty silver for her attention.

Then Seungmin would leave. But only for a couple days before returning. Sometimes he would bring stories.

Hyunjin would hear the waves roll more aggressively and– There was a celebration, of sorts, in the reef. It’s a big to-do… I’m waiting till it finishes.

Hyunjin would hear ripples of a migration– We greeted a great pod of dolphins. Some open ocean mer swam along them… we thought Chan might leave with them but he didn’t.

Hyunjin would hear the great whale and her baby leave and– Minho and Felix didn’t leave with her.

Bristling, Hyunjin spun around and stared, They… didn’t?

Seungmin was laid with his back against the cave floor, blowing bubbles and watching them wobble, Nope.

…Why?

Felix wanted to stay. I can’t be sure about Minho, I think they argued, I don’t know, I didn’t want to meddle so I swam away before I could hear it all, he spun around, sending a blanket of clouds around him, Chan and Felix talked I think… Chan dotes on him now, I don’t know why. Whatever happened, Felix wanted to stay and Minho can’t say no to him, he rolled his eyes, And Minho believes he’s a mother or something. I told him he needs to let go, and he flicked his tail at me.

Oh?

He isn’t talking to me anymore.

Hyunjin snorted, Good for him. That’s not any of your business.

Shrugging, Seungmin toyed with the stones that came undone from the walls, throwing them lightly and watching them drift down. It was a common thing between them, the differences in family structures and how pods worked, something they mused at and picked apart.

Minho and Felix… the image of them made Hyunjin feel hopeful, for whatever reason. Even though he had no plans to return to the reef, the fact that they were still there put him at peace, more than it gave him confusion. And perhaps that was a facet of a fact, that he could trust the place his sister remained was good and full of love.

It was a peace that made him forget when Seungmin left. He almost didn't realize the longer stretch of Seungmin relinquishing their visits, until the songs of something far too friendly drifted down.

Dark-long-dark-scary-dark-dark-hello?

Felix's lack of common speech had never been as much of a hindrance to Hyunjin as it had been for the other reef mer. Hyunjin hadn't even felt the need to teach the younger mer's tongue to meld to his– the sounds he made gave his thoughts plenty enough intention, singing somewhere between the speech of whales and the long songs mer formally choired for the length of the ocean.

Hand along the crevasse wall, Hyunjin slowly crept up to the song, singing something comforting to guide the mer down. Felix hadn't quite learned the trick from Seungmin, on which crags to follow that would lead him safely and directly to Hyunjin's cave.

Down here, Hyunjin called, calm and reassuring as Felix’s voice melted into something more dolphin-like in panic of trying to locate where exactly he was, You’re alright, I’m here, right here Lix.

Another voice of equal panic mingled with Felix’s, that Hyunjin could vaguely make out to be Jisung’s, a high-pitched and pinched tone of We should’ve come here with Changbin, we shouldn’t have come on our own, why’d we do this, we should stop, let me call out for Chan, Chan will come, let me call for him Lix–

Easy there, Hyunjin glided up the wall, the shadows of the two mer coming into focus, backlit by the far away light of the open ocean above, their tails twisting back on themselves as they tried to look behind and around to distinguish where they had come from and where they were going.

It took several moments before they could see him as clearly as he could make them out, and by the time they did, Hyunjin’s hand had slipped into Felix’s, and the smaller mer wriggled around him, tugging Jisung close to not lose him. 

Found-us!-Found-searched-tried-scary-much-scary-searched-scary

“I’ll teach you how to find me safely,” Hyunjin told him quietly, hand flicking back Felix’s bangs and lingering against the soft curve of his cheek, the baby fat of his face and Jisung’s reminding Hyunjin of the chasm between them, “One day. With Minho.”

A rolling pleased sound trilled from Felix, Jisung hesitantly taking the hand Hyunjin offered as he towed them up to the surface. Jisung was altogether too quiet, and Hyunjin didn’t think much of it as he swam, until the young mer pulled himself close to Hyunjin’s ear—

Something big… down here…

The crevasse life was oddly still, hidden away, and Hyunjin frowned, looking up and around them to try and feel whatever Jisung had.

He caught sight of the six-gilled shark after he felt its erratic movements. Anger ticked. Someone had surely spited it on a trip down. 

Don’t make eye contact, he told the boys harshly, moving slow enough to not attract attention, the two gripping him tightly still unaware for the present moment until–

A sharp gasp, and he gripped the two of them close to him as he darted up, hoping that they’d escape unnoticed yet.

It was thrilling, in it’s own way, when they broke into the light and a small smile tugged the edges of Hyunjin’s lips.

He didn’t realize he could miss the warmth.

Felix remained curled around his arm, for a moment several unspoken words hurriedly exchanged in glances with Jisung. There was some sort of unrest, Hyunjin wondering whether to ask if it had to do with them wandering down in the first place– perhaps without anyone else’s knowledge? Perhaps on a mission?

His unease increased tenfold when he felt the current of several other mer on the waves.

Are you in trouble? He trilled teasingly, and when Jisung bit his lip, a more harrowing question bubbled out, …Am I in trouble…?

He wished Seungmin were by his side when a great unsteady flight of waves warned him of several mer rushing to him, something anxious coming with them. Seungmin, knowing his heart, sent his little octopus a pace ahead of their arrival, a little message tucked on a kelp strand within one of her arms.

One name. Four letters.

Hyunjin was pale before Changbin and Ryujin broke through the dark waters. 

Yeji?

She isn’t with you then? Changbin’s eyes were wide as Ryujin shot off towards the dark, carelessly calling to places her eyes weren’t made to look through, She never came?

Hyunjin’s brain immediately wanted to scream, something about how they’d lost her and how could they?! But he bit the edge off his tongue and followed the more logical pattern of thinking he was used to treading.

Was she meant to come this way? She never told me– when did you see her last?

Changbin stammered, long enough for Jeongin to crash into his back, rubbing his eyes, surprised when he opened them and saw Hyunjin, giving him an odd toothy smile, just as Seungmin floated above their heads, a scolding look directed at Changbin. 

I said she wasn’t here, he looked at Hyunjin with more serious a look, Ryujin can tell you. She was following–

–She said it was a song, said she needed to, Ryujin crashed back, half-blind and frustrated halfway mad from the way her hands tore at her hair, But that was days ago and– where else? But I don’t know where–!

Hyunjin stilled. Still as death, still as anger, and it froze everyone around them. 

…What did the song sound like?

Chan and Minho and anyone else who cared quickly joined, Chan armed with a spear and Minho with a small satchel– a healing satchel of salves that made Hyunjin pale at the grim possibility it prepared for.

It was sort of sad, Lia’s face was pinched in sincerity and concentration, Searching… sort of like–

She tried to imitate it the best she could, and it wasn’t a poor imitation by any stretch.

But it was vague.

Mourning without any concrete grief, questioning without any aim.

Did she just seem… curious? Hyunjin pinched his fingers, knotted with worry, Did it seem like a call she needed to answer? Or just a thing she felt the need to follow?

Hard to say, seemed like both? Chaeryeong offered meekly.

Chan pushed through them, eyes set firmly, Whatever it is, we’re setting out to look for her now. Changbin? Take two and comb along the edges of the magma plains. Minho, take three and try the southern cliffs and then break into pairs to split the ocean there. Jisung, I want you to find Jihyo and take as many as will come with you to split the northern drop-off and waters. Hyunjin–

Hyunjin’s gaze snapped up, head swimming at the truth of what they were looking for and what they’d find, and in his panic, Chan’s eyes softened.

I’m heading east, as long and far as I can. I’ll ask whoever’s out there, if they’ve seen her.

Hyunjin realized Chan left the instruction open, for where Hyunjin was inclined to go look by himself. With what wisdom he had, to know what his sister would follow, and where she would be found.

A sinking grief followed the realization that Hyunjin had no such inclination.

I’ll come with you, he said quietly, numbly, Send a song out calling for her.

Chan’s face was apologetic, but kind as he nodded.

And with that, they all set off.

Come, little ones, Minho took Felix and Jeongin, Seungmin following after giving Hyunjin a reassuring look. Jisung and Lia took off to the north, and Changbin taking whoever remained to comb his own lands.

Ryujin’s head was bowed to Hyunjin before she left, words barely bubbling out, I’m so sorry.

It isn’t your fault. You aren’t my sister’s keeper.

But Ryujin looked up, and they both knew she couldn’t believe that.

It was quiet as they slipped into the hands of the open ocean. Chan swam a pace away– close enough for comfort.

Whenever he stopped, Hyunjin called out. Questioning, probing, and song after song, slowly sinking into a sadness that was hard to shake. 

Every scale quaked against the bitterness that started to seep in as they traded daytime for night. 

It pulled him further from Chan.

He had trusted the fate she’d chosen, because he’d trusted them. 

Another thought, an inkling that made him writhe, burrowed into his side as the waters became as midnight.

But had he ever really trusted her?

He hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t. Because her grief was not normal, it was not safe or expected, and as much as she had been owed it, he had never considered it a closure that would heal itself over. Because she never told him. They never spoke. And he couldn’t be sure if she held bitterness like a festering wound, and it had been the thing that kept her from coming home and uprooting herself somewhere else. 

A bitterness that was willing to tear herself apart.

No, he never really trusted her. 

An ugly, distorted thing crawled out of his throat at the admission.

Grief, raw and unfiltered.

Chan came closer in two strong strokes, cautiously hovering just behind Hyunjin’s fluke, before coming to his side and putting a hand on his back. 

We’ll find her.

Hyunjin shook his head, weary in thoughts he didn’t want to claim as his own. 

But what if she doesn’t want to be found?

The thought hung unspoken, and Hyunjin let it strangle him. It was easy to know himself. It was easy to know what he believed. It was easy to tell himself what was wrong. 

To know another and care so much of their thoughts was an agony . It was all too familiar, too close, to let his own thoughts melt and meld into someone else’s in the name of love, for it to be so intertwined he couldn’t pull his own out any longer. 

When sunlight broke, and they passed another school of tuna, Hyunjin didn’t even know if he cared to ever return. 

His head was a heavy mess of possibilities and threads. 

Hyunjin, Chan’s voice was gentle, pulling him to a stop, Sing for some time, we’ll wait here and just listen. 

They were both exhausted.

Tail hanging to the deep, staring out into the east, Hyunjin bobbed, letting the water cradle him how it pleased.

He didn't dare say a word, listening as the world carried itself through the currents. He waited and listened, and when his blood flowed to the same heartbeat of the ocean, did he close his eyes and open his mouth.

And sang a song of searching.

Harrowed and cautious, but raw and deep. The sort of song that could not be mistaken, careful in every note that rose and fell and slipped into a woven melody of longing that could not be interpreted and pulled apart into its individual pieces. 

When Hyunjin finished, strength had completely left his body, and he would have sunk down had Chan not been right beside him, holding him afloat. He was too exhausted to even open his eyes. 

That was good, you did good, it’s alright–

… might have been what Chan said, but Hyunjin couldn’t hear anything, seafoam in his ears, some high whistle bouncing in his head.

It might have been minutes or hours, when Hyunjin finally found the strength to open his eyes again, Chan’s hands still looped under his arms, holding him up. When he turned to look, Chan’s head was tilted back, like he had his ears to the waters around and beyond, a faraway, indiscernible expression on his face. 

So Hyunjin leaned his head back, and listened too.

The currents, the tides, the births, the deaths, they all echoed, they all splattered into each other, and only if Hyunjin made the effort, could he pick apart and follow one melody from another.

And right when he didn’t expect it–

–he pushed out of Chan’s hands, eyes wide. Everything in him tensed, as he tried to latch onto the familiar timbre–

What do you hear–?

Chan, it’s her!

They both held their breath, just to be sure, but Hyunjin didn’t need much more than a second of Yeji’s voice faintly echoing before he darted after it. 

It was conflicted, clearly in conversation with someone else, and getting more tense by the second. 

Hyunjin couldn’t move fast enough. 

He’d never swam as fast as he did. 

Tearing through the water like a mad-man–

There!

The shadowy outline of a mermaid narrowed Hyunjin to a breakneck speed, heart flapping against his chest with threats to burst out, but as he neared that shadow broke into two, and suddenly Hyunjin was pulled back by his fluke. 

Because Yeji was fine. 

She was talking, peaceably, to another mer with a deep blue tail.

Just the two of them, alone.

Hyunjin stopped. And watched.

A breath behind him, Chan did the same.

Every now and again her voice would rise, and the other would as well, in the crescendo and harmony of the other.

Yeji seemed at ease. She seemed fine. Even as the other mer became more agitated, his voice louder and unsettled, at a threatening pitch that made Hyunjin tense.

It went from a conversation to a clear disagreement when Chan and Hyunjin decided to make their presence known.

Whether they were noticed or not, the other mer was suddenly in Yeji's face, angry. Yeji startled, but did not flee.

Which Hyunjin was fine with… he tried to trust her.

But when the mer wrapped his tail around Yeji's– the sort of grip around her waist to keep her from backing away as he bared his teeth in anger– Hyunjin could not move quick enough, Chan yelling at them from behind.

Not again.

Yeji pushed the mer off her with such strength Hyunjin had never seen before, and in that flurry of bubbles, Hyunjin bodily placed himself between them.

He dared to even bare his teeth in warning, as Chan's spear defensively aimed for the mer's neck.

Not again.

Never again.

Chan asked first, firmly, What's going on here?

And only after Yeji's hand pressed lightly on his back, did he realize he'd missed it.

The one thing he was always keenly aware of.

That which he was made to keep a pulse on.

What was right in front of him.

The grief.

The mer let out a deep-seated groan, hands writhing in his hair, jittery in his movements to swim back and then come forward, to scream and then apologize, to leave them or stay and beg for what he needed.

It was a deeply unsettled, a mind torn and laid bare in itself, and Hyunjin could see it

This mer was grieving.

Yeji slipped around him, gentle and deliberate as she approached the mer, ignoring Chan’s cautious hand that still held reservation at the clear potential for violent outburst that remained. 

Show me, she insisted to the mer, and with his arm to his face, he dove straight down, to the sloping plates where open ocean mer would rest during their nomadic travels, skimming along the sand until he came to a hidden little cove. 

He went in, and came out with his arms cradling a small bundle, wrapped in a seaweed-thin shroud. 

Chan took a sharp breath, A child.

Hyunjin pulled Chan to a stop a little distance away.

The water was solemnly still. 

Yeji started a quiet song, low and reverent, deep and particular. It was quiet, and kind, delicate as she reached out and took the bundle from the mer, and gentle as she peeled back the shroud. 

It was a child. Only as long as Yeji’s arm, silver-scaled with wispy hair. 

Oh, Chan’s breath was eaten up in bubbles, the sheer shock of it crippling his posture.

Yeji’s song dipped in mourning, guttural at the injustice of it, a melody that was joined and overpowered by the other mer, a sound that Hyunjin can only just interpret and understand barely through the raw pain and anger of it. 

He’s her father, Hyunjin explained quietly to Chan, They were turned out by their pod.

Chan’s eyes were wide, red from a crying that’d only begun, Why? What happened?

The song was call and response, as the little one’s father tries to put to song the sad, long mourning of his heart, a grief so entwined with a deeper hurt, of pain in betrayal, and deep-set hatred that it made Hyunjin shiver to listen, and he had to fix his eyes on Yeji to keep from being overwhelmed in it.

It’s different in the dark. 

It was far too open here. Vulnerable like an open wound that isn’t bandaged after a salve is applied.

Yeji wasn't phased by it.

Her face was hung in empathy, drawn into his pain without being swallowed by it.

She held the child close. Cradled her. Bends down to brush the hair from her face.

Her song doesn't waver in its melody. Through the melancholy, through the dissonance in the anger that's murky and bloody in the voice of the little one’s father, and most of all, through the intangible vastness of the open ocean that swallowed up every little thing into a insignificant wave drowned in all the others that gulped it whole and sank it to the bottom of the great blue.

Yeji’s voice was clear. Strong. Carried what it meant and did not waver. 

As Yeji drifted down, her song beckoning and leading lightly, mourning everything this little girl had been in what time she was given to the ocean, and her father echoed it with all his memories and the intricate messy emotions they came with, Hyunjin followed. His song felt pulled out of him, just like the weight around his tail that pulled him down with them. 

Somewhere behind him, he heard Chan sing– a grief he didn’t seem to know he carried bubbling out at having to witness someone else’s tragedy that unlocked what he’d hidden away and broke like a coral that had been dying for some time. 

It was so unexpected it tore Hyunjin’s eyes away from Yeji closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to the little mer’s, trading it instead for a mer who grew up quickly and never looked back. 

He remembered Chan’s song. Chan’s sister, his brother. Chan’s eyes were blurry, bruised behind their glassy veil. He was held up by thin scales, suspended to watch, and Hyunjin floated back up, his fluke gentle and slow, and his song switching keys into a harmony of something similar, but not quite the same.

A ballad to the untimely and unjust, but the history that made them because it happened. To Chan’s strength and kindness and an apologetic tumble into what could have been but an even gratefulness for what it was instead that made Chan tip his head back and melt into a chorus Hyunjin had heard before, which still sounded as beautiful and impossible and stunning as when he first heard it. 

And somewhere Hyunjin couldn’t see beneath him, the mourning song melted from disbelief to peace. 

I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting… Chan stammered, and then looked out with a laugh of disbelief, seeing something that wasn’t there and finding joy in it, I haven’t thought about… I haven’t thought about that in forever, I– I–...

Chan spun aimlessly, looking at the waters that had borne him from childhood to adulthood, and Hyunjin caught him in the weightless from behind, arms caught behind, ear to his back and catching his heartbeat and hearing that song of Chan’s soul echoing somewhere deep within his ribs. 

A stuttering breath, Chan reached up to hold Hyunjin’s arm, to hold him close and feel the weight of true and hard to hold. 

She was alright, Chan hummed quietly, head falling back to fall on Hyunjin’s, sniffling quietly, She’s just like you, you know.

Hyunjin snorted. Didn’t know I scared people half to death in my absence?

Chan’s voice was barely above a breath, dreamy and pointed in a way that knew that Hyunjin already understood what he meant and just perhaps didn’t want to acknowledge.

That’s not what I meant.

Hyunjin nodded, loosening his arms from around Chan, looking down at where they laid the little mer to rest, and then out across the stretch of ocean Yeji had crossed to find this one soul so at war with their own grief. It still was murderous unrest, Hyunjin’s heart heavy if he listened too closely. 

Strength was an odd thing to draw the certain lines around to define. It was age-old coral hard that crumpled in a fight, it was limestone cavern walls that could bend and twist and grow over the years, but it was also the ocean floor in a constant below their feet but always changing, and also water, slipping through flukes but heavy and sharp as easily as it was a gentle hand lulling to sleep. 

Hyunjin wasn’t made of stone, and Yeji wasn’t made of water, but…

She’s so strong, the admission slipped from Hyunjin’s lips, like he needed to tell himself, and needed to tell anyone that doubted like he had.

Chan was looking at him softly when he looked up, and knew something about the weight of Hyunjin’s heart he didn’t know could be seen. 

And being seen never felt so beautiful. 

They waited in a nearby crag in a seamount, patient and quiet between themselves. They cracked open clams, and slept. Hyunjin slept. Chan swam out and back in a day, and somehow sent the message back to their pod. 

It might have been a week. The mer passed by, face swollen from pouring out his soul. He gave them a polite greeting, moving slowly out back into the open waters. Hyunjin followed his form, knowing in his heart that mourning was never as easy as the laying down of a loved one. He would know to listen now, and he would keep an ear to the waters for it. 

Yeji drifted up slowly, her face at peace. 

Do you need to rest? Chan pointed to the shell-ridden cave they’d called their own, but Yeji just shook her head, an easy smile on her face, so they moved between the currents till they found the warm one that would pull them to the reef. 

It was a wordless journey, but halfway there, Yeji bumped her shoulder in Hyunjin’s, and made sure he could see her face. 

Her face was easier to understand in the light. 

She gave him a firm look, firm in herself, and firmer still in the tides and waves as they came and went.

Nice coat.

Mum made them, there’s one for you in my cave.

Oh? Yeji turned as the waters grew lighter and brighter, Let’s go get it then? Before–

Chan nodded in understanding, swimming quickly ahead to bring the message of their return, while Yeji tugged Hyunjin’s hair like when they were kids and lead him down into the crevasse.

The reef worried, he said quietly, pulling up around her as they rounded the edge of the crevasse wall, Ryujin especially. Would have torn her hair out.

Ah. I’ll apologize. I’ll find her a dusky pearl, she’ll forgive me easily. 

Will she?

The water was dark where they stopped. Hyunjin didn’t even realize why until he realized she was looking out at something, out in the middle of the crevasse and turned to look–

It was a murky creature, still and quiet as the deep. A jellyfish of sorts, but broader, more still. It did not shine like the other creatures of the deep, with little twinkling stars and harrowing pale lights. Like a shroud pulled through the deep, velvet smooth, pulsing a mysterious red within of things unsaid, gentle as it fell. Tranquil in timelessness.

A true phantom . 

They held their breath as it passed them, in all its beauty and harrowed peace.

Hyunjin’s heartbeat was slow as he watched it disappear before his eyes, and return to its mystery.

Her eyes were fixed on the place they’d seen it, a ghost of a smile in what she saw of herself there. 

This is what it is to be a deep sea mer, after all. She knows. 

This is who I am.

And that settled Hyunjin’s heart to know her own mourning song had found its peace.

Because perhaps it meant that he had found his own.