Chapter Text
When Kazuha first saw the mermaid, it was long after the rest of the crew went to bed. At first, he thought it was just a trick of exhaustion, a phantom in the water. But the next night, he saw it again, its sleek form swimming along the ship just beneath the surface. Moonlight illuminated the iridescent scales that flashed with every flick of its tail. His breath caught, mesmerized by the shimmering sight. He watched it swim for a few minutes longer before he turned to go back to his cabin.
By the third night, the mystery gnawed at him enough to make him call out to his aquatic stalker. Maybe it was apprehension, maybe curiosity, or something else he couldn’t name. He leaned over the railing, the ocean breeze cool against his face.
“Hey! Are you following us?” he called.
A splash echoed in response as the mermaid dove deeper, disappearing into the dark waves. Oops. Kazuha had probably shouted louder than he had intended. He hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of the mermaid’s face. How disappointing, Kazuha thought. He lingered for a moment longer before retreating to his cabin, the fleeting encounter replaying in his mind as he lay awake.
The next morning, Kazuha was jolted from his thoughts by shouts on deck. The sailors were hauling up their fishing nets, the usual catch wriggling inside. But as he got closer, he saw something far larger tangled in the ropes. His pulse quickened as he realized what it was.
It was the mermaid.
Thrashing in the net, its tail slapped against the wooden deck, its struggle to escape only tangling it further. The sailors quickly set to work cutting open the net, excited to see their catch.
Kazuha’s breath hitched as he saw the creature up close. The mermaid was unmistakably beautiful. Violet hair fell past its shoulders, and its shimmering blue-green tail caught the sunlight. Its face–so delicate and ethereal–was far too perfect to belong to anything of this world.
“A mermaid? Aren’t they…”
“There’s no way. It must be some kind of…”
Kazuha could hear the sailors murmuring, but he couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. All he could focus on was the mermaid, now curling in on itself, terrified. Its wide, panicked eyes darted between the sailors before locking onto Kazuha. His heart stuttered.
“Someone bring him below. Hey kid, you do it,” a sailor said, nudging Kazuha and snapping him out of his daze.
Kazuha knelt down, carefully sliding his arms under the mermaid and ensuring he had a secure hold before he lifted it up. It flinched at his touch but didn’t resist, wrapping its arms around him in a tight, instinctive grip. The skin beneath his hands was soft, yet alien to his touch. He carried the mermaid below deck, his footsteps heavy as the creature stared at him with wide eyes the entire way. He settled it in an empty crate, glancing around the dim storage room.
“I know it’s not much, but I’ll bring some seawater for you to soak your tail in, and some food. Do you have anything you need?”
The mermaid didn’t respond, its fingers nervously twining through his hair, eyes still averted.
“Can you speak? Do you have a name?” Kazuha asked.
After a moment of silence, the mermaid raised his head and mumbled, “… Kunikuzushi.”
A blush had set over the mermaid’s face that only grew deeper as he made eye contact with Kazuha. It was almost…cute, Kazuha thought. Though maybe “cute” wasn’t the right word to describe something so “inhuman”.
“Nice to meet you, Kunikuzushi,” Kazuha said. “My name is Kazuha.”
“Kazuha…” Kunikuzushi whispered, as if he was testing out the sound of the name on his tongue.
———
The days passed in quiet routine. Kunikuzushi remained in the makeshift aquarium, rarely making a sound. Occasionally, a sailor would come down to grab supplies, only to jump when they found the mermaid silently watching them from between the crates. More than once, the crew muttered about throwing him back into the sea. After all, he was an extra mouth to feed, and his unnerving presence didn’t sit well with them. But the captain had taken a strange liking to the mermaid, and no one dared to oppose him.
So, it was decided that Kunikuzushi would stay on board at least until the ship reached its final destination. The crew never bothered him, and his only visitor was Kazuha, who would bring a few fish for him every day. Kazuha stayed with him until he finished eating, the silence between them settling into an odd sort of companionship.
Today was no different. As Kazuha descended the creaking stairs, Kunikuzushi sat up to face Kazuha, shyly glancing away when their eyes met as he set down the fish on the floor. As Kunikuzushi leaned forward to take the fish, Kazuha suddenly grabbed his wrist without thinking. The mermaid flinched, but Kazuha’s attention was fixed on the deep gash running down the mermaid’s back, crimson red against his pale skin.
“What’s this?” Kazuha asked.
“It’s–it’s nothing,” the mermaid mumbled, averting his eyes. “It’ll go away on its own…”
Kazuha examined the wound, continuing to hold the Kunikizushi’s wrist.
“Wait here. I’ll get you some things to dress the wound.”
Although Kunikizushi looked like he wanted to protest further, he stayed silent as Kazuha wrapped the bandages around his chest. True to the mermaid’s words, the wound vanished just a few days later, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin behind.
———
One night, along with the usual catch of fish, Kazuha brought a bottle of wine down to the mermaid, left over from that night’s dinner. As they drank, their cheeks turned pink, warmth spreading through them. Feeling a bit flushed, Kazuha suggested they go above deck to cool off in the night breeze.
“Come on, the moon looks beautiful tonight. I’ll take you above deck,” Kazuha said as he lifted Kunikizushi up without waiting for an answer.
They gazed up at the sky, bathed in moonlight. Kunikizushi always looked so beautiful like this, Kazuha thought. His pale skin glowed softly under the moonlight, giving him an ethereal, almost porcelain-doll-like appearance–delicate and flawless in the silvery light. Entranced, Kazuha found himself reaching for Kunikizushi’s face when he leaned over, resting his head on Kazuha’s shoulder.
“Are you tired?” Kazuha asked.
Kunikizushi hummed in response, closing his eyes and nestling into Kazuha’s shoulder. Kazuha wrapped his arm around him instinctively, his hand hovering near the mermaid’s hair, resisting the urge to run his fingers through the long, violet strands.
“So beautiful…” Kazuha whispered as Kunikizushi opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Kazuha’s, their faces illuminated only by a small oil lamp. Kazuha’s hand, no longer hesitant, drifted into Kunikizushi’s hair, fingers weaving through the soft, violet hair he’d admired so many times.
Kunikizushi’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted his face just slightly, closing the space between them. Kazuha leaned forward, and their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss, Kunikizushi clumsily kissing back. Finally, their lips parted, and Kazuha saw Kunikizushi’s face, his eyes blown wide and softened with vulnerability.
“Sorry,” Kazuha said. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay,” Kunikizushi said hastily, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I liked it.”
“Still, I–” Kazuha paused, catching himself. “Nevermind. It’s getting late. I’ll take you back.”
He carried Kunikizushi below deck, the mermaid falling asleep in his arms.
“Goodnight, Kunikizushi,” Kazuha whispered.