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The sea has always been a call for Riku. Being born in Fukui Perfecture that is located on the Sea of Japan coast, Riku thought it was his fate to be living well from the sea itself so Riku has always dreamed to be a sailor.
Even as a child, standing at the edge of the docks with the salty wind in his thick black hair, he had felt its pull. It was not love, not the kind of admiration the poets his older sister usually spoke of, but something deeper, something darker—an unspoken promise between him and the tides.
Now, as a sailor aboard the Shiranami (white waves), those whispers of the deep had only grown louder for Riku.
But nothing had ever prepared him for him.
The legendary creature that haunted his nights and slipped into his waking thoughts. The one with silver hair like moonlight on water, dark, inhuman eyes that reflected the abyss, and a voice that crawled into Riku's bones, stripping him naked from his own skin and leaving him breathless.
The merrow.
Sion.
As a child Riku has always heard of the legends surrounding the sea. He had heard how terrifying the sea was despite its beauty, he had heard how people would keep longing for its waves even if they knew it could someday drown them and he had heard the legend of that merrow—Sion.
The first time Riku saw him, it was just a glimpse. A shimmer beneath the waves, a fleeting silhouette in the moonlight. He had thought it was a trick of the sea, a mirage born of exhaustion from having been on the boat all days. But then came the singing.
It was not the kind of melody a man could ignore.
Soft, serene, a bit low, laced with something ancient and—somewhat wild, the song curled around Riku's senses and pulled him into something he couldn't quiet name it.
It whispered of things lost beneath the tides, of longing and hunger, of a love that could consume and drown Riku.
That night, Riku stood at the railing, the ship rocking gently beneath his feet as he was staring into the nothingness of the sea.
“Riku…”
His name—being called. Spoken like a secret.
Riku turned, and for the first time, he saw Sion fully. Instead of questioning how the creature knew his name, Riku was so mesmerized of its beauty.
Silver-white hair clung to his pale skin such contrast to Riku's tan skin, his hair dripping with seawater. His upper body was lean, toned like a man's, but his lower half was something else entirely—smooth, shimmering scales that bled into the dark water, barely distinguishable from the waves. His lips curved in a smile that was almost human, almost gentle, but his eyes…
They were not human at all.
“Come closer, Riku.” Sion murmured. “Let me see you.”
Every instinct screamed at Riku to run. To grab his knife, to call for his crewmates. But his body betrayed him, his feet moving of their own accord.
His fingers brushed the cold, wet skin of Sion's hand that he had extended even before Riku could move as if he was sure Riku would come to him and extended his own hand.
When Riku touched Sion's hand, Sion smiled warmly at him as if welcoming him and suddenly, the sea didn't seem so terrifying anymore—for Riku who had always love and long for the sea that could destroy him at any moment.
Riku knew he was playing a dangerous game.
He had told himself it was just simple curiosity at first. That the thrill of seeing something not meant for human eyes had hooked him, and that was all.
But when Sion's voice drifted through the night, calling him to the water's edge, he went willingly.
“Why do you come to me, sailor?” Sion asked one night, his head tilted in amusement, silver hair glistening under the starlight.
Riku hesitated, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I don’t know.” He answered.
Sion's smile widened, sharp and knowing.
“But you do...” He whispered, gliding closer to Riku, water rippling around him.
“You hear me, don't you? Even when I don't speak. You feel me.”
Riku shuddered. He wanted to deny it, to call Sion a liar, but the words caught in his throat.
Because it was true.
When he closed his eyes, he felt Sion's voice inside him. Not just as a mere sound, but as something deeper, like fingers ghosting over his soul. A presence that lingered long after he left the water's edge.
“You don't belong to the land, Riku.” Sion murmured, resting his arms on the ship's side, leaning in until they were inches apart. Riku could feel the breeze touching the tip of his pointed nose but he was not sure if it was Sion's breath.
“You belong here. With me.” Sion smiled almost like a confident smirk as if he was so sure of himself when he told Riku that Riku really belong to the sea, belong to him and with him only.
The worst part?
A part of Riku wanted to believe him.
The first time Sion kissed him, it wasn't a gentle kiss he had expected like those scenes in the dramas he usually watched at home.
It wasn't sweet.
It was something utterly different—possession.
Cold lips pressed against his with a force that stole Riku's breath from his lungs. Sion's cold fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him forward, dragging him closer. Riku gasped, but Sion took even that—swallowing every sound, every thought, until there was nothing left but the taste of salt and something sharp, something almost like blood. But, Riku completely ignored it all.
“Do you fear me, Riku?”
Sion's voice was soft, but his grip on him was tight as if he was clutching onto Riku desperately.
Riku's breath hitched.
“Yes...” Riku answered timidly without looking into Sion's eyes, in fear that something in Sion's gaze would pull him deeper into the sea.
The merrow laughed, his sound vibrating through Riku's bones.
“Good, Riku.” Sion whispered. “You should.” He continued.
But when their lips met again, this time Riku didn't pull away, instead he really wanted to melt to the kiss.
Days after their first encounter, the other sailors had started to notice something had changed in Riku. Worried, his crewmates asked the captain to ask Riku directly.
“You have been different lately, Maeda.” Captain Yuta said one evening, watching Riku with wary eyes.
“You stand at the railing too long. You don't speak as much. It's like… the sea has got its claws in you.”
“The other guys are all worried about you.” He continued.
Riku forced a smile. “Just tired, Captain.”
Yuta didn't look convinced. “You know the stories, boy. The ones about the merrow. They don't love like we do. They take. And they never let go.”
Riku knew that.
“If you are tired, you can take days off the sea and take a proper rest on the land.”
And coming to the now empty house after being left behind all alone?
Instead of answering, Riku just forced a smile. He hoped it was convincing enough because Riku had never intended to set his feet to the lonely land. Instead he loved the sea and had now found the love within it.
The conversation between him and the Captain was being replayed a lot inside his mind like a broken cassette. It was as if his mind, too, now were warning him about the creature.
And yet, that night, when Sion surfaced again, arms outstretched, eyes dark with something unreadable, Riku still reached out for him.
“Come with me, Riku.” Sion whispered, fingers trailing along Riku's sharp jaw.
“Come into the sea with me. You won't be lonely again.” And Riku believed that.
The ship creaked behind him. The wind howled. Every part of him screamed no.
But Sion's hand was already on his wrist, pulling.
And Riku…
Riku let him.
The water swallowed Riku whole.
Cold. Dark. Endless.
Sion's arms wrapped around him, firm and possessive.His lips found Riku's in the abyss, pressing, claiming.
“You’re mine now, Riku.” Sion murmured against Riku's mouth. “No more ships. No more land. Just me and you. Just us.”
Riku's lungs burned. His heartbeat slowed.
Above him, the moonlit surface rippled. The last piece of his world slipping away.
Sion kissed him again, and this time, it felt like drowning.
And maybe—just maybe—Riku didn't mind.
The End.