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Being a Japanese man in another country when you don’t speak the local language is hard, Kuroo knew that. Kuroo also knew that in South America, every country had its own way of speaking Spanish, sometimes those differences would be very apparent and difficult for tourists. Oikawa had warned him about one particular country, the thin stripe of land he had decided to move to on a whim, that was easy to miss thanks to the Andes Mountains and outshined by its louder and larger neighbor Argentina, Chile.
“Kuroo, Argentina is right next to Chile, they are very similar countries in many ways. They have one of the biggest sibling rivalries in Latin America, and it’s very easy traveling from one country to the other for, like, a weekend sometimes, or even a day. Even Argentinians, whom they have the closest relationship with in Latin America, mind you, have a hard time understanding what Chileans are saying. And it gets worse the further into the south you go. You’re going to be totally lost.”
Oikawa had to be exaggerating, Kuroo thought. Sure, there may be a few words here and there that might make no sense to him, but Chilean Spanish couldn’t be that bad.
It was worse.
Oikawa was not exaggerating. Chileans made no fucking sense, even two months after having moved to the country. They shortened words in ways that had Kuroo’s brain short-circuiting, they slurred some letters here and there that made it harder to figure out what they were saying, and had strange words arranged in the middle of sentences that Kuroo had never heard of. What does ‘po’ mean? What is ‘conchetumare’? And what the fuck is a ‘weá’?
Still, Kuroo fell in love with the country. Chileans were a colorful, yet lovable bunch that welcomed his Japanese self with open arms —most of the time—, and got way too excited whenever he spoke his choppy Spanish —or tried using one of their strange curse words; they loved that—. They gladly gave him insights of the best places to visit along the whole country, and many of them had recommended the south, with its lush forests, cold climate and breathtaking sightings. So, naturally, he decided to visit as soon as he got the chance to. His friends' descriptions fell short. Chile’s south was nothing short of magical.
He was now in Chiloé Island, in a city called Castro, right on the coast. He was lucky enough to be staying in a palafito, a traditional wooden cabin built on stilts right on top of the seashore, and since it was July, the water was high enough to fall asleep every night to the sound of the waves right under his feet. Even if the weather was unforgivingly cold and humid, there was this nostalgic and cozy feeling Kuroo was unable to explain, different from anything he had experienced before.
One night he couldn’t seem to fall asleep, so he dragged himself out of the heaviest, warmest blankets he’d ever been under and went to the kitchen to prepare himself some café de trigo, a drink similar to coffee made with toasted wheat grains. As he was about to sit down on the kitchen table, he heard a screeching cry coming from the outside. “What the fu–!” Kuroo yelped while he jumped out of his seat, luckily avoiding to burn his hand with the hot café, now spilled on the floor.
It was a loud, powerful sound that Kuroo was certain the neighbors had heard. Yet somehow, it was a luring, it made Kuroo’s skin prickle in the best way possible. The soft sound of the waves outside became louder and he felt the air around him turn saltier. There was another loud cry and Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from walking to the balcony and see what it was for himself, not without grabbing a shawl first.
He had no idea what he expected to find, but it was certainly not a man swimming in circles right in front of him, gently lit by the pale moonlight. Well, it wasn’t exactly a man. He had fins on his forearms and shoulder blades, and a tail similar to a dolphin’s. He had powerful thighs, broad chest and a strong jawline, and his skin had swirly white patterns that looked painted on. He was mostly naked except for his seaweed loincloth, and the mussel and clam shell collars around his neck. His Chilean friends had told him about Chiloé’s beautiful sightings, but he was certain they didn’t mean this one. The creature turned to look up at Kuroo and he felt a chill go down his spine. Those eyes had no right to be as soft as they were.
“Oh well, to whom do I owe the pleasure of having the little mermaid showing up at my house?” Kuroo said to himself in Japanese, with his trademark mocking tone in an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere surrounding him.
The creature widened his eyes and furrowed his brows in confusion before speaking. “You aren’t afraid of me?”
Kuroo’s blood drained from his body. The creature had spoken perfect Japanese, or at least that’s what he heard, because his lips were definitely not mouthing Japanese words. Pretty, he thought. The creature swam closer to the balcony.
“Should I? I’m a pretty brave guy, not easy to scare.”
“Do you always talk to magical sea creatures with that much sass?”
“Only the cute ones. Who are you?”
The creature looked at him with a sad smile on his face, grabbing onto the balcony to pull himself up closer to Kuroo. “I’m El Cahuelche, of course.”
Kuroo leaned against the balcony, closer to the creature. Cahuelche… Cahuelche… He’d heard that before, not long ago.
Usté m’hijito que se va a que’arse en el palafito oiga, póngale harto ojo porfa’or, no vaiga a ser que me lo pille el Cahuelche y se lo lle’e pa’l patio ‘e lo’ calla’o, oh!
Ah, that’s right, Miss Magaly had mentioned the Cahuelche, but he had no idea what the rest meant. Between her quick and slurred words and the Fox brand cigarette in her lungs, it was almost impossible figuring the message out. Not to mention the deep southern accent.
“Kawer… Kaw… Ka-ue-ru-che,” he tried sounding out, thinking of how his friends would mock him for his still thick accent.
The creature let out a breathy and deep chuckle that went straight to Kuroo’s heart. “You are a funny one. I had another name many centuries ago, before the sea and the land had one. You can call me by it if it’s easier on your foreign tongue. It’s Daichi. Who are you?”
“Kuroo Tetsurou.” He simply answered, unable to step away from the edge of the balcony.
“Kuroo… Strange name, pretty though” Daichi’s eyebrows turned upwards and his lips curled into another sad smile. “I’m so sorry I showed up…”
“Why? Am I not pretty enough for Chilean sea creature’s beauty standards?” Kuroo leaned even closer, wiggling his eyebrows. Apparently, he was insane enough to flirt with a magical being.
Daichi let out another deep, breathy chuckle, and with furrowed brows he responded. “Don’t you know when to shut your mouth?” He looked up to Kuroo once again with those soft, sad eyes in a silent apology, Kuroo could only answer with a shrug. “You’re too beautiful, that’s why.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you who I am?”
“Listen, I know you are a magical being or whatever, but you’re being awfully mysterious right now. If you want me to kiss you, you just need to ask.”
“You really don’t know when to shut your mouth, do you?” Daichi bit his lip, and Kuroo shivered when he saw his pointy fangs. “La Huenchur wanted me to warn you about your looming death. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t expect you to be so pretty, or funny.”
Kuroo’s stomach tied itself into a knot. He was going to what? Already? Just when he had met who was certainly the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes upon?
“You’re shitting me.”
“I wish I was.”
“Why? How?”
“I don’t have the answer to that… I’m sorry,” Daichi pulled himself up and leaned against the balcony’s fence, caressing Kuroo’s face with his cold webbed fingers. “I’m deeply sorry. Usually people understand without needing to see me.”
“No… No, don’t be...” Maybe it was the intoxicating air around him, maybe it was Daichi’s eyes or his cold, slippery skin, but instead of lamenting on his fate, Kuroo could only think about how much he wanted to kiss Daichi right then and there. If he really was going to die, couldn’t God allow him at least that small pleasure? Daichi’s eyes traveled away from Kuroo’s down to his lips and let out a small exhale, Kuroo leaned his face closer in response.
“How long do I have?”
“Until sunrise…”
“Then let me be with you for the rest of the night, at least. Please.”
Right as Kuroo finished that sentence, he felt a powerful whistling wind that nearly made him fall on his ass, had he not clung onto Daichi’s back in time. The water waves became stronger, now splashing over the wooden planks and soaking Kuroo’s wool socks, he swore he could hear a woman cry ‘Cucaoooo, Cucaoooo, Cucaoooo, Cule’, sending shivers down his spine.He felt Daichi’s lips on top of his own before he could say anything.
They were cold, like the rest of his body, and salty due to the water. Yet, Kuroo immediately felt weak in the knees and braced against Daichi. He felt powerful hands grab onto his waist to pull him over the balcony’s fence and into the water, never letting go of his mouth. Kuroo didn’t feel the freezing cold bite of the Chilean sea against his skin, nor did he feel his lungs fill with the salty water, he only felt Daichi’s tongue exploring his mouth in a hungry frenzy. When Daichi finally let go of him, he immediately trapped his hand under his webbed fingers and looked at Kuroo with those soft brown eyes, before letting his powerful legs and tail bolt both of them forward. Daichi was truly an amazing being, he could swim incredibly fast while still holding Kuroo’s hand, and he even managed to do a few tricks when jumping above the water.
They spent the rest of the night like that, exploring the depths of the Chilean sea together, jumping over the water and doing acrobats and kissing every chance they got. At one point, Daichi pulled them both on top of a seaweed covered rock and laid his head against Kuroo’s heaving chest. Kuroo told him he had moved from Japan to Chile a little over two months ago on a whim; that his best friends were still living in Tokyo, but had made wonderful friends in Chile that he loved very much; how struck he was at Chile’s beautiful sightings and how much he had wanted to visit every corner of this beautiful land, and how no sight would ever compare to Daichi’s beauty.
In return, Daichi told him about TrenTren Vilu and CaiCai Vilu’s fight that created the mountains, lakes and islands along the Chilean coast, and that many millennia ago, he used to be a regular human being who had the misfortune of drowning in the middle of their many battles. CaiCai Vilu, the Sea Ruling Serpent, felt pity for him and turned him into the Cahuelche, a half dolphin half human creature with enough intelligence to communicate with the remaining humans via its cry. He had sworn to Millalobo, Ruler of the Sea and CaiCai Vilu’s right hand, to help La Huenchur in her duty of alerting humans about weather and fishing conditions, since Huenchur was forbidden from speaking to humans. His least favorite part was to also be an omen of death, which is why he usually didn’t let humans see him. Kuroo had been the only exception in centuries.
Kuroo found himself so immersed in Daichi’s story that he didn’t feel the cold morning breeze against his dampened clothes, or his sore, cold bitten limbs, but he did feel his heart hollow once he noticed the sunrise creeping behind them. God, one night was far too little time with Daichi, he needed more, he wanted more. Was he allowed to plead to ancient mapuche Gods as a Japanese man, for just one more day next to this magical being?
“Daichi, I don’t want to die, ” Kuroo said, letting out a long defeated sigh.
“I’m very sorry. I wish there was something I could do…” He answered in a deflated, regretful tone.
Something he could do. There had to be something. “Can’t you just ask Ue-nu-chu-ru to not let me die or something?”
“La Huenchur has nothing to do with your fate, she just wanted me to warn you.” Daichi bit and licked his lips, as if the answer was hidden in them, “The only being powerful enough to do something would be Millalobo…”
“So ask him to not let me die, then!” He responded, fully convinced.
Daichi looked at Kuroo with a mix of confusion and sadness in his face, “I can’t do that to you…”
“Why? You want me to die? I thought we had a thing!”
“It’s not that!” Daichi propped himself on his elbow to look at Kuroo’s eyes directly, “I want you to live, but you already have a life. You have friends, places you want to visit and so many things ahe—” Kuroo trapped Daichi’s lips in a soft kiss to stop him from talking.
“Daichi, you showed up at my balcony to announce my death, I’m here on borrowed time. I don’t care what that Mi-ia-ro-bo fella’s terms are, if he wants to turn me into a seahorse or a mussel or whatever. If I get to live and stay by your side, that’ll be enough.”
Daichi smiled up at him and bit his lips while shaking his head. “Are all Japanese men this devoted?”
“Nah, you hit the jackpot with this one,” Kuroo answered with a wide grin, pulling Daichi on top of him and peppering kisses on his face like his life depended on it —it kinda did—. “So, are you going to ask your boss very very nicely if he can turn me into the cutest little mussel?”
Daichi kept shaking his head with a smile. He peppered Kuroo’s collarbone with soft kisses, before standing up and jumping back into the water with a backflip and that powerful cry that made Kuroo's skin prickle. Seconds after, Daichi’s hands emerged from the water and grabbed onto Kuroo’s ankles to drag him deep into sea.
He dragged Kuroo down further and further, the water around them becoming darker and colder, and the creatures around becoming more magical and fantastic in ways Kuroo was unable to describe. Once they were finally in front of Millalobo, Kuroo felt very intimidated. His lower half was a sea lion’s, while his upper one was a human’s, he had the same white swirly patterns on his skin that Daichi had, and he was covered in a whisper of soft golden hair. He didn't have collars, but a crown made with mussels, clams and strange split open rocks that had a throbbing red centre. Daichi spoke to him in a language Kuroo had never heard before, Millalobo’s stern and stoic expression never budged. Not wanting to interrupt Daichi’s plea, Kuroo stayed quiet, but looked up at the God with his best puppy face.
Once Daichi was done, Millalobo turned to face Kuroo, who felt those olive eyes drill holes into his skull and managed to nod in a silent plea. The God let out a faint, barely there smile and waved his hand in front of Kuroo. A shivering current rushed against him, spinning him around, and he felt his throat close up, fins ripping through his forearms and between his shoulder blades, and a tail grow on his lower back. The remainder of his clothes ripped apart, but he was quickly covered by a seaweed loincloth, collars made out of mussel and clam shells, and white swirly patterns drawn by the deep sea mantle.
“I have granted Cahuelche’s wish of sparing your life,” he spoke, or so Kuroo thought, since Millalobo’s lips didn’t move. And he was certainly not speaking Japanese or Spanish. “To fulfill his request, former human, I have turned you into a Cahuelche, just like my loyal servant. In return, you will now live under my ruling here in the sea, and you will help both Cahuelche and Huenchur. I will leave it up to them to decide on your duties. You may go now, child.”
Kuroo turned to face Daichi and swam —with his cool new fins and tail— towards him. Daichi reached his hand forward to grab Kuroo’s. He was caught off guard by how much warmer Daichi felt now, but he gave him a relieved smile, showing his now sharp fangs while wrapping his arms around Daichi’s neck. Daichi’s only answer was to grab Kuroo by the waist and trap his lips in a searing kiss.