Chapter Text
When Ichimatsu had originally sought out his fisherman’s license, he dreamed of days full of solitude. Living in a city surrounded by four identical brothers in a cramped house was clearly a form of punishment for whoever he was in a past life. Compared to that, living on Aoshima in a small shack by the sea with nothing but cats for company was heaven.
He sighed quietly to himself, watching the lines of the submerged net as they glimmered in the bleary sunshine. It was supposed to be heaven. As it stood, Ichimatsu found himself more bored than anything. Naturally listless, he had little issue with a job that consisted of waiting around more often than not. And while ‘talkative’ was one of the last characteristics he’d say he possessed, the fact that there were only thirty people on the island - most of them old and just as unwilling to talk as Ichimatsu was - meant that he could go days without conversation, usually longer if he didn’t have to take the ferry back to the mainland for groceries.
In a strange sense, he missed companionship, he even missed his brothers… Not that he would ever call or visit them, of course. That would only raise questions about his new life, which he knew he could never answer truthfully.
He raised his head up from where it was resting in his hand, peeking over the edge of his small fishing boat as he caught movement in the water. Barely perceptible at first, he soon saw shadows several meters below, and waves began to rock the little vessel. He reached forward, tugging insistently at the net. Had he somehow captured a school of fish at once? The thrashing only got worse, threatening to overtake the small boat as Ichimatsu hauled whatever it was closer to the surface.
The first thing he saw was a head of dark, human hair. Ichimatsu promptly dropped the net back down. A corpse? he wondered, stomach turning sickly at the thought. Wait, no, it couldn’t have been that – it was moving.
Shit! He reached forward, quickly hauling the net up again. A swimmer, then? But it was still quite cold out, and he never knew any of the people here to swim in the ocean, the few divers on the island didn’t even go this far out. His boat was rocking even more violently than ever, a cold spray of saltwater hitting his face as he used all his strength to heave the net up, dragging whoever or whatever it was onto the floor of the boat, making him topple over along with them.
He panted, looking up at the sky, the gray clouds predicting a storm to come. Casting his eyes downwards, he saw he had succeeded in dragging a netted man into the boat. He was gaping like a fish, eyes wide and glassy as he blinked back at Ichimatsu. His hair hung in rough, uneven chunks – somehow he even had seaweed clumped around the side of his head – and his skin was as white as paper. He let out a breath which sounded almost like a cocky laugh, but the movement was enough to draw attention to the gashes along his ribs. Ichimatsu scrambled to sit up, edging closer to the man. “Are you hurt?” he asked, hands hovering over the scarlet slashes. Water flicked up to hit his cheek, and Ichimatsu looked over the side of the boat on instinct.
He saw a large fin, casually dipped in the water. Probably two meters in length. The scales were a bright cerulean color, glimmering like they were inlaid with sapphires.
They were connected to the man in the boat, the fish tail and fins meeting his human torso at the hips.
Ichimatsu turned his head, expression dark as he fearfully gazed at the – the creature that was trying to struggle out of the net in vain. What he thought was seaweed stuck to the man’s head turned out to be small fins, and the gashes he thought were injuries looked now to be gills.
A mermaid. Ichimatsu had caught an actual mermaid not even a full year into his life as a fisherman.
After a beat, the mermaid wrestled uncomfortably in his bonds. “I… don’t suppose you have a knife on you?” he asked in a low, sonorous voice. It was charming in the strangest way, like a bird’s warbling or a bar singer. But then again, weren’t mermaids supposed to sing? Silently, Ichimatsu flicked out the knife he kept on his belt, working at cutting a hole in the net. He tried not to think about all the fish he had gutted with the very same blade.
After some struggling and more splashing from the mermaid’s tail, he had gotten the creature free, who promptly slid back into the murky water, until only his head was visible. “I’m sorry about your net,” he said, after another awkward pause. “I’m usually more careful when I look at you.”
Ichimatsu blinked. “At me?”
“You’re the only pretty human on this island,” the mermaid said casually, flicking its dark hair from its forehead. “…And probably the only one that would have let me go,” he reflected, lazily swimming around the boat, hair falling back around his features at the movements.
“Isn’t it bad luck to piss off a mermaid?” Ichimatsu asked, gaze following the creature as it glided through the water. “Or kill one?” He tried to think of the different legends, but all he remembered was a story about some 800 year old priestess and that one Disney movie, neither of which were especially relevant, as he had no interest in eating the creature or being in need of a rescue from his small boat in a calm sea.
“Perhaps,” which could have been a cryptic answer, but mostly just sounded like the mermaid wasn’t sure himself. “By that logic, I should give you a reward for letting me go, ah, I’m sorry, I’ve never learned your name!” He put his hands up on the boat, as though to inspect Ichimatsu more closely. The creature’s face, aside from the fins, looked rather normal. He had a sharper jaw (and teeth), and his eyes were almost unnaturally large, thick brows drawn down in a calculating look. The mermaid almost looked… determined, its closed-mouth smile more comforting than it had any right to be.
Ichimatsu managed to shrug a shoulder. “If you want,” he muttered, even though his heart was beating crazily in his chest. A mermaid was looking at him, trying to be friendly. What would a reward from a mermaid consist of? A good luck spell? A doubloon? A kiss? Ichimatsu hated how much he was tantalized by the last option in particular. “I’m Ichimatsu.” He furrowed his brows. “Do mermaids have names?”
“Hmm,” the creature tapped a finger to its chin for a minute. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure…?”
“Mermaids are mysterious creatures,” the mermaid tried to say in a mysterious way. “It would only compromise us to be given names.”
“Uhuh,” Ichimatsu said, resting his head in his hand, leaning on the lip of the boat. “Well, I can’t not call you by something…” He tried to think of oceanic names, something befitting a mythical creature, but nothing sounded right; he couldn’t just go about calling the mermaid seashell or swimmer or bait. His mind inadvertently went to his brothers, the Matsunos; Osomatsu, Choromatsu, Ichimatsu, Jyushimatsu, Todomatsu… “K-Karamatsu,” he suggested, nose already wrinkling in distaste as he said it. Ironically, Kara did mean shell, but not one from the sea. It was an abysmal name, something better suited for him versus the enchanting creature looking up at him from the water.
“I love it!” He exclaimed. Of course. “I’ll be Karamatsu,” Ichimatsu did think it sounded better in the mermaid’s voice.
“You set the bar incredibly low,” Ichimatsu said at length, but the mermaid was lost in thought again, hand on his chin before making a triumphant “Ah!” noise.
“I have an idea,” Karamatsu said, “Don’t worry about it.” And with that, the creature dunked under the water and disappeared. Ichimatsu waited a few minutes, then a few minutes more, until his stomach was grumbling desperately and he was beginning to doubt he had seen the mermaid at all.
“What sort of warning was that?” he swore to himself, now gathering that the dismissive ‘don’t worry about it’ was permission to carry on with his day. He slowly rowed his way back to shore; with the sizeable hole in his net, he wasn’t going to be catching anything else. Well, maybe a Kraken, considering his current record with catching magical sea creatures. He tied his boat to its usual spot on the pier and trudged back home, petting a few stray cats on the way.
He passed the rest of the day in quiet solitude, occasionally looking out his window to the sea, hoping to spot a glittering fin or human face in the water. No such luck. Figures. Still, even if that was all he had, an inconsequential story he could tell no one of, he caught himself feeling... content, for the first time since arriving in Aoshima, like he had done something unquestionably right. It was a good feeling to have, one that tapered and faded as the hours went on, though never disappearing completely.
Which may have been the reason why, in the morning, Ichimatsu was struck with the strangest desire to talk to his family. He promptly squashed it, although he did find himself scrawling a brief letter his younger brother Jyushimatsu, and carrying it with him during his ferry ride to the mainland. Amongst his usual chores – buying groceries and a new net – he slipped his letter into a mailbox. Jyushimatsu had moved for his job as well, being a baseball player in one of Japan’s minor leagues. He was probably the most famous and successful any of them would end up being, but when they were younger Ichimatsu had always favored him the most. It was strange; Jyushimatsu and he were polar opposites, he was a sun, endless energy and happiness, while Ichimatsu was… hm, a garbage heap. Anyway, he offhandedly mentioned he met a friend while he was fishing; he didn’t add in that it was a mermaid he had given a name to and threw back to the sea, but it was a relief to mention at least part of the story to someone. Anyway, Jyushimatsu had no qualms about reporting to his other brothers; this was really the most convenient way to ensure that they all knew how he was doing.
Returning home, the sky was more desolate than ever, and a few of the fishermen who were riding on the small ferry with him were discussing the likelihood of a bad storm coming. It was typical for the season, but Ichimatsu, a resident on the island for barely a year, shivered at the prospect of trying to fish in the rain and wind. He decided he would try to get anything significant before he had to shut himself up in the house entirely. With that in mind, he put his groceries away before getting on his usual fishing gear and heading to his boat, net tucked under his arm along with his pole and tackle box.
He set his supplies into his boat, about to get in himself when he felt the hair along the back of his neck prickle. The only thing around him was sea, so he leaned over the edge of the dock, where the murky water filled his vision from a meter below.
He felt a tug on the back of his jacket and nearly fell forwards off the dock. Ichimatsu saw the boat rush towards him, mentally wondering how he’d hit himself on the metal rim, if he’d break something – only to find himself pulled backwards, his back slamming onto a cold, wet lap.
The mermaid's face peered down at him; he had somehow perched himself on the edge of the dock while ichimatsu wasn't paying attention, and had saved him from a broken arm. Or neck. “Hello,” he breathed out, adrenaline seeping out of his body as Karamatsu smiled, carding a wet hand through his hair.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said apologetically. “Though I’m sure even if I had approached you normally you would be startled by my beauty, no?” Ichimatsu wasn’t especially impressed by the line.
“Maybe, with a haircut.” The mermaid had a peculiar look on its face akin to a pout. Ichimatsu slowly sat up, the mermaid moving away and slipping back into the water. “Thanks for pulling me back, even if it was your fault.”
That wide, close mouthed smile was back, and Karamatsu proudly proclaimed, “I found you a gift!” Before ducking down into the water, popping back up again with hands full of oysters.
“Ah,” About a dozen shells were roughly shoved into his arms, dripping salt water quickly soaking his pants. “Pearl oysters…?” he glanced down, noticing the curved shell. No, they were merely the regular kind; good for a meal, but not exactly prized possessions. Karamatsu seemed to realize this, face falling slightly.
“Did you want pearls? I’m sorry, I suppose fishermen get their share of oysters to eat, I’ve never actually talked to one before," he said in a rush, voice going a bit higher. "B-but merfolk can cry pearls, I think…” He put a finger to his lips in thought.
“You mean you don’t know?” Ichimatsu asked incredulously. A mermaid with no name and no idea what the species was actually capable of. Did mermaids have families? Did he somehow stumble across a clueless, orphaned one? That would explain why no one had ever seen a mermaid before, if they usually stuck in packs in the deep sea and this one had come out, too curious for its own good. Ichimatsu didn't know whether to find that funny or sad.
“Heh, I guess I’ve just never cried –” With a huff, Ichimatsu reached down and pinched Karamatsu's cheek, hard. Tears sprung to his eyes, thought they merely stayed salt water.
“Guess not,” Ichimatsu said dully, patting the spot he had just pinched. The mermaid was... a bit embarassing, but if he really had been abandoned that made Ichimatsu's chest seize up uncomfortably. Karamatsu was still looking up at him with wide, teary eyes, his cheek still pink. "But you know," he started uncertainly, "I haven’t had oysters since before I moved here, I’ll cook them tonight. Thank you,” Holding them to his chest, he hopped into the boat and packed them into a woven pouch he had in the tackle box. “I’m still heading out today,” he said over his shoulder, wondering what else he could say to cheer Karamatsu up. “There’s a storm coming, evidently it’s going to be bad. That’s the problem with doing a trade like this, you need to work up until the end, or else you might not be able to support yourself.” He untied the boat from the pier and pushed off, sitting down. “Maybe you’d like to follow me…?” he looked around him, but there was no sign of Karamatsu at all. Just like he hadn't heard him sit on the dock, he didn't even hear him leave. For all those corny lines, he was rather stealthy.
After some minutes Ichimatsu picked up his net and openly sulked as he tossed it into the water. After all, there was no one around to see him.
He caught a decent amount of mackerel that day, efficiently gutting and icing them to bring to the market tomorrow before dawn; that night he ground up some chili pepper, ginger, and some old sake, sprinkling them on the oysters he had cracked open. It was simple, and imagining how much the same exact thing would cost at an upscale bar back home made him enjoy it even more. He wondered if oysters were considered delicacies to mermaids, too.
If that was the thanks he got from Karamatsu, he wouldn't complain. But delicacy or not, wasn't a mere dozen oysters a small price to pay for saving a mermaid? One he’d probably never see again, never be able to ask why he hadn't known facts about his own kind. Yesterday he had felt at peace with himself, but today he just felt nauseous.