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Though begrudgingly, Shuichi believed in fate.
He had grown up rolling his eyes at the romantic novelty, but his understanding of it shifted into adulthood. Instead of idyllic or tragic, fate simply became a mechanism of the natural order, affecting those around him to varying degrees. The more conscious of it he became, the easier it was to accept the inevitabilities of life.
From Shuichi’s perspective, he was fated to become a detective. He never had overwhelming passions, so he began training under his uncle. And after solving that first big case as a teenager, his path became absolute. At the time, it felt great. He was relieved to finally discover his talent and clutched onto it like a lifeline.
But a lot had changed since then.
It was the third of October. The ocean air lapping at his cheek was less forgiving than a summer breeze and sharper in its sting. The sea was too choppy for casual sailors, leaving a ghost town of swirling seafoam and squawking birds.
Shuichi fisted his hands into the double-breasted trench coat and squinted past its flapping lapels. The cold air bit his cheeks and nose, leaving them a deep and achy magenta. But he didn’t pay it any mind, eyes fixated on the glittering, chaotic sea. It seemed to sneer at him, waves delicately hugging every rock before smashing into the coastline.
He wasn’t sure why he was here. This malefic harbor could not apologize and repair the shattered remains of his pride. There were no stories it could tell. Even if he screamed, it would continue churning the same bitter songs and guttural laughter.
But maybe that was the point. Perhaps Shuichi had never planned on confronting the sea in the first place. Perhaps he had braved the rocky coastline and harsh winds to aggravate the discomfort within… and face himself. It had been a while since he digested emotions without the crutch of alcohol or cigarettes.
Becoming a detective was one of the great inevitabilities of Shuichi’s life. Because he never felt like there was any choice, it took years to accept his dissatisfaction with this fate. At first, it had been easy to pretend it was a noble profession upholding safety and justice. But as the years dragged on, his job began feeling inconsequential. It was hard to accept, but the legal system valued money far more than anything as pure as truth.
He wasn’t sure when the apathy began bleeding through, but after a while, his superiors took notice. They tried to reinvigorate Shuichi by moving him from infidelity cases to more serious crimes, often riddled with tragedy and mystery. Despite his best efforts, he only discovered dead ends. Rather than refreshed, he was left feeling more lost and depressed than ever.
Yesterday, his boss broke the news.
Shuichi rolled an ankle as he toed through the sand and cursed himself for wearing loafers to the beach. His cheeks burned with shame and disbelief, but he ignored the pain and continued trekking down a stretch of damp shoreline. He stalked the mud for metal trinkets and found nothing, as expected. The tide would have stolen any lingering evidence months ago.
Searching for clues softened the blow. It was something Shuichi could do, even if he wasn’t responsible for cases anymore. It made the transition to an empty schedule feel slightly less earth-shattering. Even though detective work never felt fulfilling, it was all he knew.
The more he thought about it, the less this case made sense. Usually, people who disappeared by the ocean traveled alone at night. On rare occasions, a group of drunk teens might try swimming in unsafe conditions. But at least three of these disappearances occurred in broad daylight… without any witnesses.
He twisted around and scanned the town behind him. It was a lively community, with several brightly-colored shops and fishermen haunting every dock. Flocks of bikers flooded small footbridges and soared down the coastline. Even if most people weren’t paying attention, someone must have seen something. It wasn’t adding up.
It’s not my problem anymore. I’m free, Shuichi thought. The words rang hollow.
He turned back, squinting past sparkling waves to inspect the lighthouse perched on a nearby cliff. It didn’t look operational, which was a shame. Given the circumstances, seafarers could benefit from an extra safety measure.
Suddenly, a speck of color flew into Shuichi’s peripheral. It vanished after a thunderous splash, flicking icy droplets into the air. There wasn’t enough time to process what he had seen, but… his instincts insisted it was an impossibly large fishtail.
Perhaps skipping lunch wasn’t such a great idea after all. Better grab something to eat.
Shuichi was so unsettled that he didn’t even bother googling reviews for restaurants in the area. He merely wandered into the closest pub, desperate for hot tea and a comfortable atmosphere. His frozen extremities protested the sudden change, but eventually, the discomfort ebbed away.
The restaurant looked like an old staple, with creaky floorboards and heavily varnished furniture. Since it was a weekday evening, Shuichi was allowed to seat himself. He selected a table beside the windows and glanced outside between sips of tea. It kept him from looking too awkward or approachable, politely barring any attempts at small talk.
The pub wasn’t as quiet as he had hoped, but anything was better than wind assaulting his eardrums. He reluctantly listened as two old men commented on the news while aggressively gesturing toward the television. Most of their rants were boring, but he immediately perked up at the mention of strange disappearances. It didn’t take long for him to realize he recognized the voice on the television and whipped his head around to check.
“We’re very close to solving this case,” Shuichi’s boss reassured the news anchor. He tucked his hands into a tweed blazer and shifted on his heels before forcing a small smile. “Our finest detectives are working around the clock to narrow down the current list of suspects. And it’s a short list, I assure you.”
Shuichi must have been more naive than he thought, because his initial reaction was confusion. He wondered how the agency had obtained compelling evidence within the last twelve hours and even felt guilty about holding his coworkers back— before realizing the truth. There weren’t any new leads. His boss was just lying to maintain a positive image.
One of the men hollered, slinging colorful insults at the newscast. Shuichi couldn’t help but smirk, satisfied to see his rage validated through someone else. He listened as the men argued with the television, calling his agency a bunch of useless liars. If any of those stuck-up detectives had bothered rolling into town, they would have met the perpetrator of these crimes. This could only be solved with a harpoon, they insisted.
Just then, a waitress arrived with Shuichi’s sandwich and a bag of chips. She set the plate beside his teacup and took note of its volume. “Can I get you another tea? Or some milk?”
“Ah, no. I’m alright, thank you,” Shuichi replied. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice before continuing. “But I do have a… strange question, I suppose. D-Do you have any idea what those men are shouting about?”
Her expression morphed several times as she processed the question. “Are those two bothering you?” She finally asked with a sigh. “I told them to keep it quiet, especially during tourist season. We can’t be scarin’ off more customers than usual.”
“Oh— that’s not what I meant.” Shuichi wasn’t surprised she misunderstood. Under normal circumstances, he would have found their rants bothersome. “To be honest… I was sent here to investigate the recent disappearances,” he lied. “But I don’t know where to begin. And they were saying something about… a harpoon?”
He wasn’t sure why he said that. As if working on a case after dismissal wasn’t bad enough, now he was lying to the locals. If word spread outside of town, it could spell serious legal trouble. But while he understood the gravity of the situation, he couldn’t seem to care. Curiosity usurped reason.
“Oh, that,” the waitress laughed. She relaxed slightly and bent down to whisper. “It’s local legend. Those codgers think there’s a siren living by the old lighthouse.”
“A siren?”
“Think mermaids, but more violent. It’s a sailor’s tale from the pirating days,” she explained. Then a bell dinged, and her eyes flickered back to the kitchen. “Sorry, I have to go. Stay safe out there!”
“Uh, thanks!” Shuichi called. He peered into the cup and scrutinized his weary reflection before dousing it in milk. The bags under his eyes were promptly stirred away, leaving a cold, caramel-colored tea.
Just when he thought this case couldn’t get any stranger, mythical creatures were added to the list of prime suspects. Although it would have been easy to dismiss, legends were usually based on actual sightings. Mermaids obviously weren’t real, but sharks or predatory fish could serve as potential substitutes. Most species should have migrated by now, but animals were just as flawed as humans.
Suddenly, Shuichi recalled the incident from earlier. A chill raced down his spine as he pictured an enormous tail emerging from the depths. There hadn’t been enough time to verify any details or confirm the creature’s existence. He sympathized with the sailors seeking a supernatural explanation, deeming a fish that large even more frightening.
But it wasn’t just fear plaguing him. Shuichi was still deeply troubled by his boss’ interview and the false confidence permeating his voice. He didn’t understand how a case could sit untouched for several months and suddenly race to—
Oh.
It was almost election season.
Rage bubbled up from deep within Shuichi’s stomach and seared his throat. Politicians using crime as propaganda was nothing new, but forcing cases to close crossed a line. It was an insult to the victims and their families. Not to mention dangerous, since the actual perpetrator would remain undiscovered.
Just eating was a struggle. Shuichi oscillated between rage and anguish, knowing there was nothing he could do. Ironically, it was the strongest passion he experienced in months. For the first time in a while, something finally felt like it mattered. If only this happened sooner.
No. He never would have reached this conclusion while working for the agency. They had purposely tried to keep him at his desk, sifting through pre-gathered evidence and carefully worded testimonies. This was only happening because he was here, sober and free from the claws of corruption.
In that case, he should investigate the lighthouse.
Thanks to the brevity of fall evenings, Shuichi lost most of sunset to dinner. When he emerged from the restaurant, the world was even colder and greyer. His path was lit by the fading fingers of tangerine clouds, staining everything in deep sepia tones. He turtled inside his trench coat and followed them down to the fishing docks, noting the stench of low tide.
Shuichi wasn’t stupid. Solo investigations were always a terrible idea, especially when it was dark and no one knew his whereabouts. It would have been much safer to get a hotel and try again in the morning when he felt more rational. But his adrenaline was fueled by rage, and both convinced him there was no time to spare.
So he trekked down the cliffside and followed a dirt path back to shore. By the time he reached the sand, night had already taken hold. The beach felt even more daunting under a cloak of darkness, stretching endlessly in all directions.
Shuichi couldn’t see anything, and the ocean echo thwarted every attempt to visualize his surroundings. Icy sand gripped him like roots, and whispering wind became human voices, tangible enough to make him flinch. It was so frightening that he considered turning back.
Thankfully, the flash on his phone camera served as a suitable light source. He used it to forge a path to the lighthouse, confidently stumbling through the sand and toward safety. Perhaps he was moving too quickly, but fear kept him from acting rationally.
Suddenly, the toe of Shuichi’s loafer connected with a slippery rock and threw him off balance. When he tried catching himself, he twisted the ankle he had rolled earlier. Pain shot up his calf as he tumbled into the sand, momentarily forgetting to breathe. His phone flew several feet away, casting a weak stream of light into the ocean.
As if that weren’t bad enough, he struggled to pick himself back up. Both he and the sand were too unstable, making it impossible to find the necessary balance. It wasn’t long before he gave up, deciding to calm down first.
But that was also difficult. Without a light, Shuichi felt more helpless than ever. The ocean was even more threatening from this height, waves sweeping close enough to chill his bones and drown out any cries for help. In just a matter of seconds, his world had been reduced to a pit of sand, waves, and searing pain.
Oh hell.
Shuichi winced as he lifted his pant leg, using two fingers to feel around for signs of blood or bone. Luckily, he didn’t find anything too gorey. After a deep breath, he tried pressing down on the swollen ankle and hissed with pain. He didn’t know if it was broken, but he definitely couldn’t walk.
“Shit!”
Despair welcomed him like a warm blanket. He buried his face in his hands and choked out a sob, fearful and pained. Tears of frustration flooded the corners of his eyes, but they refused to fall. Just another useless irritance.
“I’m so fucking stupid,” Shuichi whimpered, his voice hoarse and cracked. It felt like sand was lining his windpipe, burning every rough word. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing did.
“Something on your mind, handsome?” A voice called from the ether. Thanks to the echo, it was impossible to tell how close it was.
Shuichi practically jumped out of his skin. He blinked back tears and whipped his head around, searching for the source. He noticed a shadow encroaching on the path of his flashlight and furrowed his brow. A swimmer…? At this hour?
If he focused hard enough, he could make out the shape of their silhouette. It was small and thin, reclining against the shoreline as waves rolled over their back.
“Aww, don’t be scared!” The swimmer cried mockingly. They glanced down at Shuichi’s cell phone before rolling over and picking it up. Then, they turned the light back on themselves to reveal soft yet masculine features twisted with amusement.
The distance made it hard to comb over details, but the swimmer didn’t seem dangerous. He was small and baby-faced, with hair long enough to tickle his shoulders. It had purple streaks and salt-curled ends, which clung to his porcelain collarbones like vines. He was certainly unique, but perhaps the most bizarre detail was his lack of clothing.
“…S-Shouldn’t you be wearing diving gear?” Shuichi asked, eyes tracing down the boy’s chest. Once he realized there was a good chance the stranger was naked, he blushed.
“Why? Skinny-dipping in subzero temps is the best way to relax!” The swimmer teased, grinning. Despite the lack of light, he seemed to have no problem observing minor shifts in Shuichi’s expression. It was mildly unsettling.
“Wanna join?”
“W-What…? No! It’s dangerous, you should—” Just as Shuichi began to protest, he noticed another silhouette looming behind the boy. It waved back and forth, swaying like a palm tree in the breeze. His voice died as he became choked by fear again, intimidated by the sheer size of it.
The boy’s expression fell, disappointed. He sighed and redirected the light, aiming high enough to illuminate the imposing figure. “Right, right… you want to see the tail,” he grumbled bitterly. “No one appreciates a pretty face anymore.”
Huh?
It really was… a tail. Purple scales glittered as they caught the light, shifting with an iridescent glow. Its overall shape was eerily similar to what Shuichi had seen this morning, but— no... it couldn’t be.
For some reason, he was scared to confirm it. His heart raced as eyes traveled down to the boy’s waist, noting where skin transitioned into scales. It was hard to believe, but they were indeed connected.
Was this… the siren?
The sheer implausibility caused Shuichi’s fear to subside. He must have hit his head during the fall and passed out, resulting in this bizarre hallucination. He had been thinking about the siren beforehand, so it made sense. There was just one problem.
“I’m going to bleed out! Or catch hypothermia!” Shuichi exclaimed, no longer concerned about how crazy it might have looked. He tried pinching himself and pulling his hair, but neither succeeded at waking him up.
“That’s a new one,” the creature mumbled. He watched the panic with rekindled amusement, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re chatting with a flesh-eating monster… and you’re afraid of hypothermia?”
“You’re not real!” Shuichi asserted while pointing an accusatory finger. “Hypothermia is.”
“Oh, I’m not real?” The siren asked, looking strangely offended. “If anyone’s fake, it’s you! I’ve been calling all day, but you just ignored my song! That’s never happened before.”
For some reason, Shuichi felt oddly guilty about taking this out on the poor delusion. He swallowed the lump in his throat and relaxed, peering at the siren with a mix of confusion and intrigue. “Well… I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sure it was a great song.”
The creature rolled his eyes, thoroughly unamused. “The time for flattery ended like… five minutes ago, dingus,” he replied before setting the cell phone down. It sank into the sand but remained close enough to illuminate his face. “So? What are you?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play coy,” the creature scoffed. “Humans can’t resist my song. Are you a werewolf, vampire… zombie? Maybe a troll?”
“Uh… no. I really am human,” Shuichi mumbled sheepishly. He didn’t want to sound rude, so he scrambled for another excuse. “Maybe I just didn’t hear you? The wind was pretty loud, and I had a lot on my mind.”
The creature raised a brow, intrigued by his reasoning. “There must be some serious junk clogging your brain-pipes,” he mused. “This is my first time getting the cold shoulder.”
Shuichi winced as he shifted his weight onto one side, trying not to put pressure on his injured ankle. The siren had a weird way of putting it, but he was probably right. He frowned as he recalled the events of the days prior, feeling guilty about everything that transpired. Not only had he failed the missing people, but an entire community.
“What’s the deal, Sherlock Holmes? Searching for your ex-wife and wondering where it all went wrong?” The siren goaded. “If she was lost at sea, I might be able to help!”
Shuichi lifted his head, eyes wide. “H-How did you know I was a detective?”
“What? Just because I’m a siren, you thought I wouldn’t know what a detective looked like?” He replied, sounding more peeved than before. “Well, too bad! This fish is a college graduate.”
Shuichi blinked slowly, bewildered. He glanced down at himself, trying to pinpoint what betrayed his occupation. Maybe it was the trench coat? Popular media had made them synonymous with detectives. Along with drinking, smoking… and loneliness.
Wait.
“I’m a walking stereotype,” he grumbled, suppressing the urge to chuckle with disbelief.
“Yup! Maybe you should try swimming instead.”
“Um… I don’t think that would help.”
The siren buried an elbow in the sand and rested his cheek in his palm. “Well… there’s gotta be something I can do to help you. Otherwise, this is gonna be a real problem for me.”
“It will…? Why?”
“I take pride in my reputation, y’know,” the creature explained with a scowl. “I’m a legendary hunter! The most irresistible siren of the Eastern Seaboard! You can’t just go around ignoring my songs.”
“Ah. I-I see.” Shuichi gulped. He was suddenly afraid of this dream turning into a nightmare.
“Soooo, I was thinking!” The siren continued, unbothered. He raised his head and clapped both hands together, lips split in a grin. “If you help me figure this out… I’ll let you go. You can keep all four limbs, the head— everything! I won’t even ask for an ear.”
Shuichi shuddered at the idea. Then he cleared his throat, crafting a careful reply. “But, um… why would you do that? Don’t you do this for… food?”
“Yep! But I’m not that hungry,” the siren explained with a disinterested shrug. “So, I’ll settle for a psychological victory.”
It suddenly occurred to Shuichi that none of this was real. Despite the impeccable sensory detail, this was still a delusion. Once he remembered that, he realized this conversation must have been between him and his subconscious. In that case, this could be an excellent way of resolving old baggage. Talking to a mermaid about it would certainly ease the emotional toll.
Might as well play along.
“…Okay. Sure.”
“Great! My name’s Kokichi, by the way. But you can call me ‘Supreme Overlord of the Sea’ for short,” he teased with a wink.
“I’ll stick with Kokichi,” Shuichi decided. After an awkward silence, he realized the mermaid was waiting for him to return the courtesy. “O-Oh! Shuichi. My name is Shuichi.”
Kokichi cupped a hand around his ear, pretending not to hear. “Sushi? Got it!” He teased with a mischievous smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Sashimi. Now, tell me what’s clogging your brain-pipes.”
Shuichi rolled his eyes, vaguely amused by the commitment to fish-themed jokes. He shifted his weight again and curled up even tighter, in an awkward attempt to fend off the cold. “…I lost my job,” he admitted in a sheepish whisper.
“That’s it?”
“I-It was an important job!” Shuichi added. He remembered the newscast and grew bitter, brow twitching with frustration. “…Or so I thought. I was blind to the truth… and now it’s too late.”
“Hmm,” Kokichi hummed while tapping his chin with an index finger. “Well, who threw sand in your eyes?”
“What?”
“I doubt you blinded yourself,” the siren explained with an arched brow. “This obviously means a lot to you, so it reeks of sabotage. Who’s the rat?”
Shuichi’s lip curled into a frown as he considered. He combed through every interaction with his coworkers and tried to pinpoint the source of the problem. While an obvious answer would have been preferable, the truth was more complicated than that. In reality, everyone contributed to the problem by simply following orders. Corruption went all the way to the top.
“…We blinded each other, I guess? Instead of protecting our clients, we prioritized the business,” he concluded. “For a paycheck.”
Kokichi’s brow raised, eyes widening in disbelief. “That’s kind of… super fucked up.”
“Extremely,” Shuichi agreed in a whisper. He was tempted to make excuses for himself but knew nothing would suffice. Deep down, he had always known how awful this was. Any guilt was entirely deserved.
Luckily, Kokichi seemed to understand they had reached a dead end and redirected the conversation elsewhere. “Welllll… what else? All we’ve done is talk about work! What about your personal life?”
Shuichi shrugged, almost more embarrassed to discuss his sad excuse for a social life. But this was his subconscious, so there was no point in sugarcoating anything. “I don’t really have one.”
“What?” Kokichi asked, the grimace deepening. “What about friends? When do you see them?”
While Shuichi was grateful to have friends, he hadn’t spent time with them in a while. He reasoned they were all busy with their respective lives, but maybe that was just an excuse. Sometimes, it was just easier to pretend he tried.
“Wow,” Kokichi mumbled sympathetically, taking the hint. “Then I guess romance is totally out of the question.”
“Unless you count the occasional one-night stand,” Shuichi offered sarcastically. His cheeks flushed as he recalled those late-night trysts, colored by desperation and loneliness. It had been a while since he sank that low, but not long enough to forget.
“I don’t. Do you?”
“No.”
Kokichi sighed and pinched his nose, visibly drained. “Well, shit. I guess that explains it.”
“What? Did you figure something out?” Shuichi asked. He wondered if sirens needed their prey to possess an intense longing for something. If so, his total lack of passion would render him untouchable. It was a grim yet humorous thought.
“You’re barely human!” Kokichi cried, swiftly confirming the theory. “Just a dried-out husk with soft hair and dreamy eyes!”
It was difficult to tell, but Shuichi thought he should be offended. One of his hands flew up to the side of his head and brushed his hair back into place while he considered. “Um… ouch?”
“Sorry. I can be a little tough on my food,” Kokichi explained after a long sigh. He picked himself off his elbow and swung into a sitting position, no longer afraid of flaunting the tail. “Now that we know what’s wrong with you, maybe I could try again? Put you out of your misery and all that?”
“I’d rather not get eaten,” Shuichi mumbled with an awkward laugh. He found himself staring at the creature’s tail again, studying the pattern of its scales and the beauty of its form. He really was a marvelous thing to behold, real or not. “I still want to try and make things right.”
“Damn,” Kokichi cursed, but he didn’t seem all that disappointed. He actually looked prepared for that answer, as if expecting it.
“S-Sorry…”
Shuichi studied the siren more closely, curious about his intentions. Despite everything he said, he didn’t appear particularly threatening. His skin looked as soft as any human’s, and his teeth were rounded and flat. They weren’t befitting of a flesh-eating monster, but perhaps that was the point. Besides, this was just a dream. It didn’t need to make sense.
“It’s fine. I did promise to let you keep your toes,” Kokichi mused. He turned his eyes and rolled his neck, thinking long and hard about something. “But if you want to maintain that strong will to live… I think something needs to change.”
Shuichi hadn’t expected that observation but obviously agreed. “I already left my job,” he pointed out. “So what would you suggest…?”
“Not really,” Kokichi disagreed with a snort. “You’re still hooked on this case,” he added, lips twisted into the slightest hint of a smile. “So you should try solving it! Become a vigilante and save these dumb sheeple from their evil government!”
Shuichi laughed, amused by the word artistry. “I’ve considered it,” he admitted. “But I don’t know if that’s possible. Even if I found irrefutable evidence, there’s no guarantee anyone would accept it. They could just throw it out… and call me a liar.”
Back at the restaurant, he had been too angry to consider the plausibility of a solo career. But now that he was somewhat calm, he understood not having an agency meant losing his credibility as a detective. And considering the amount of corruption, there was no guarantee of safety, either. Following through with this could mean putting his life at stake.
“Just send anonymous evidence packages to all the local news stations!” Kokichi suggested with a huff, as if it were obvious. “You have to try.”
Shuichi hadn’t intended to sound despairing, but he understood why Kokichi took it that way. Voicing doubts was just a normal part of his thought process and not an indication of his willingness to try. Despite everything, he still had no intention of giving up. Not without a fight.
“I want to,” he reassured. “That’s why I’m here.”
Kokichi had clearly been preparing for a rallying speech, so he was momentarily stumped. “Oh. Good!” He awkwardly approved. “And while you’re at it, devote some time to fixing that sad little life of yours. It’s pathetic.”
“I-It’s not sad,” Shuichi protested weakly.
“Yes, it is!” Kokichi argued, the playfulness ripped from his voice. “You’re not just some job, you know. You’re a wholeass dude with a heart and emotions! So… start acting like it.”
A particularly cold breeze lapped at Shuichi’s cheek, flooding the air with an eerie whisper. He was almost too shocked to respond, unsure why the siren seemed so frustrated with him. He thought he had been saying the right things to clear his conscience, but apparently not.
Perhaps Kokichi felt bad about tanking the mood, because he shrugged off the seriousness just moments after. “I wouldn’t want you to become someone else’s dinner. You’re too stringy.”
“You…” Shuichi whispered, trailing off. What started as pure speculation suddenly became a plausible theory, strong enough to share. “…Were never planning to eat me, were you?”
“What are you talking about?” Kokichi sputtered, quickly losing composure. “I totally was! I just changed my mind after noticing how scrawny and sad you are!”
“I’m not sure you’re even predatory,” Shuichi contended with crossed arms and a crooked smile. “You certainly don’t look malicious.”
After lots of frustrated growling, Kokichi finally gave in to defeat. “Okay, fine! I lied,” he admitted. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Mr. Know-it-All Detective?”
“Wait,” Shuichi whispered, confidence surging from deep within. It had been a long time since he questioned a witness so spirited. “Why did you do it? Why did you even approach me in the first place?”
“Don’t get a big head,” Kokichi grumbled, glancing back toward the waves. He was clearly trying to avoid answering the question but continued despite himself. “There’s… something weird going on around here, so I’ve been trying to keep watch. You just happened to catch my attention.”
“Does it have anything to do with the recent disappearances?” Shuichi asked, eyes widening with intrigue. It was silly, but even gathering evidence in a dream was enough to give him that long-forgotten thrill. “That’s what I’ve been investigating.”
Though apprehensive, Kokichi chose to confide in him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Something just feels… off. It always smells weird around low tide, and lately… it feels like I’m being watched.”
A chill raced down Shuichi’s spine, and his jaw clenched in turn. “That sounds… uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, then help me!” Kokichi cried, suddenly regaining his domineering edge. He looked to the cliffs, then gestured toward the vacant lighthouse. “This ocean is too big for one little mermaid. But if you stay… then we might have a chance!”
Just because Shuichi wanted to continue investigating didn’t mean he was ready to pick up and move. Although it was a scary thought, he was struck with the overwhelming desire to help Kokichi. Being pleaded with in person made the urgency far more substantial.
“The lighthouse is old, so no one bothers checking on it,” Kokichi continued. “I can’t vouch for the sleeping quarters, but I know there’s a library! I can see it from here.”
Shuichi furrowed his brow, confused. “Are you suggesting… I live there?”
“Just temporarily,” Kokichi grumbled, understanding his shock as a negative response. “What if I offer to make you a pillow? My grandma taught me how to knit with kelp!”
“Uh… no thanks,” Shuichi politely declined. He laughed softly, amused by the mermaid’s commitment to keeping him around. “I-I already have a nice pillow.”
Kokichi clicked his tongue and hung his head in defeat. “I was lying anyway. I don’t actually know how to knit.”
“I see,” Shuichi murmured, studying him with a wistful smile. “If this were real… I would definitely stay and help you.”
“H—Wha?”
“It’s a nice thought, though,” he continued after a sigh. “Having a partner would really—”
Suddenly, Kokichi reached into the sand for a rock and tossed it at his shoulder. “You’re still on that hypothermia thing?!” He complained, exasperated.
“Ow!” Shuichi complained, rubbing the newly sore spot with a wrinkled nose. He furrowed his brow and stared at the mermaid, bewildered.
“This is real, you ding-dong!” Kokichi complained with an exasperated sigh. He crawled closer, hesitantly reaching out to touch Shuichi’s injured ankle. “I thought the pain would prove that, but apparently not.”
Shuichi flinched at the unexpected contact and sucked in a sharp breath. He glared at Kokichi as the ache spiked into agony, curses dancing on the tip of his tongue. But before any words could leave his mouth, a strange cooling sensation spread through the bone and up his calf. It was oddly comforting, like spearmint gum for his joints. Miraculously enough, it swiftly reduced the pain to nothingness.
He stared. First at his ankle, then at Kokichi. They locked eyes and held contact until the palm slowly lifted from his ankle. The cooling sensation remained long afterward, leaving not even a trace of discomfort. It was so unbelievable… he didn’t know what to think. He was half-tempted to try moving it again but resisted the reckless thought.
Kokichi nodded down to his foot encouragingly.
Shuichi swallowed the lump in his throat and bit the inside of his cheek before experimentally rolling his ankle. He had expected the pain to return immediately upon moving it, but it didn’t. He was free to move normally, without even worrying about swelling anymore.
“So? Do you believe this is real yet?” Kokichi asked, eyes shining with pride.
“M-Maybe…” Shuichi whispered in reply, genuinely unsure of what to think. He had never believed in magic and rarely experienced it in dreams. Even when he did, it never felt this realistic. He was at a loss, the limits of his imagination quickly becoming blurred.
If this was real, then it meant experiencing a fantastical life, better than anything he could have ever dreamed. It meant there was more to existing than merely waking up and getting by. It meant having a partner to rely on and share the burden. It meant he could finally do something good with this talent, despite everything he had always been led to believe.
Shuichi’s heart skipped a beat. He gently brushed a wet tendril of hair out of Kokichi’s face, exposing one of those piercing violet eyes. They were even more vibrant up close… and a thousand times more beautiful.
“So… where do we start?”