Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Isagi wakes up with the taste of regret and cheap beer in his mouth.

His skull feels like it’s being used as a drum set. The kind you find at 3 a.m. college partie.

He feels like he could die of heartbreak, mostly because someone had the audacity to wake him from the best dream a man can have after drinking until dawn. And in his defense, life’s been chaotic enough lately that he’s practically turned into a 46-year-old divorce who spends his evenings at the bar.

He groans, dragging a pillow over his face. If he stays still long enough, maybe he’ll die peacefully and the hangover will go with him.

No such luck.

"Isagi." a voice calls from outside his room. Calm, cautious. The exact tone people use before saying something insane.

"Please tell me you remember what you brought home last night."

Isagi blinks at the ceiling. "A kebab?" he guesses, voice hoarse.

"Try again." Hiori says, a little louder now. "Something... wetter."

"...A drink?"

There’s a pause.

Then, Hiori: "You brought a mermaid."

Silence.

Isagi lowers the pillow. "...What?"

"The bathroom." Hiori says flatly. "There’s a tail. A sparkly tail. And it’s moving."

Isagi sits up so fast the world tilts. "What—?!"

"Yeah." Hiori deadpans. "Congratulations, Isagi. You’re a marine biologist now."

Two minutes later, Isagi’s pacing in front of the bathroom door, heart pounding like it’s personally offended by the situation. There’s definitely water splashing inside. And humming.

Humming.

"How the hell is there a mermaid in my bathroom?" Isagi mutters, rubbing his temples.

"You brought it home last night." Hiori calls from the kitchen, followed by the sound of drawers opening.

"How did I bring that home? Why did I bring that home??"

Isagi’s already tugging at his hair, feeling one step away from a breakdown. Normally, Isagi always has a plan — and if he doesn’t, Hiori does. But right now, they’re just two kids trying to hide a broken vase from their parents.

He stops a few steps from the door and tries to calm down.

"Okay." he mutters. "Worst-case scenario, I hallucinated so hard I need therapy. And I’ll have to drag Hiori with me. Best case... no, there is no best case."

"I’m not crazy. We’re not crazy. I know what I see!"

"I don’t remember bringing a mermaid home!"

"Wait—" Hiori’s footsteps get faster until he stops at the doorway.

"You brought a mermaid to our house and you don’t remember how or why?!"

"Don’t jump on me, okay?! I was drunk!"

"You brought a mermaid home drunk?!"

"We don’t have time to argue! First, we need to see if the thing is… real." Isagi lowers his voice, like they’re discussing something highly illegal. He squares his shoulders, facing the door.

"Okay. I’m ready." Hiori says — standing a little too far back.

He turns to Hiori, who’s standing a safe five feet away, holding a frying pan like a weapon.

"Why are you holding that?" Isagi whispers.

"I don’t know, it just felt appropriate."

"I—okay. What if it’s dangerous?"

"Then at least we’ll make the news." Hiori shrugs.

Isagi takes a deep breath, grabs the doorknob, and pushes it open.

For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

Sitting in the bathtub — surrounded by foam, hair slick and dripping, eyes sharper than they have any right to be — is not a “mermaid.”

It’s a guy.

A very attractive guy.

With a glittering turquoise tail flicking lazily against the porcelain.

The stranger looks up, meeting Isagi’s wide eyes with a faint frown.

"You don’t remember." he says. Not a question — an accusation.

Isagi blinks.

“I—uh—hi?”

"You humans talk very loud. I heard everything." the guy says, which somehow makes Isagi even more confused.

"..bro?"

The merman blinks. "Lukewarm."

"I— uh—" Isagi points at him. "You’re a fish."

The merman’s tail flicks, splashing him. "And you’re rude."

From the hallway, Hiori’s voice floats in:
"See? Told you so."

Isagi glares at the door. "You couldn’t have helped?!"

"I’m not getting between you and your sea boyfriend."

"He’s not— wait, what—"

"Sea boyfriend?" the merman repeats slowly, tilting his head, and there’s something dangerously close to amusement in his eyes.

"I’M GOING BACK TO BED." Isagi declares, spinning on his heel.

"You promised." the merman says softly.

That stops him cold. "What?"

"Save." the merman murmurs, pointing at himself. "You promised you’d save me."

There’s a silence that feels like it could kill him.

Isagi blinks once. Twice.

The guy in his bathtub doesn’t vanish. Neither does the tail. Or the voice that sounds way too human for someone who just splashed him in the face.

"Okay." Isagi says finally, voice cracking like glass. "Cool. So, I’m either insane or… actually, there’s no second option."

"You really don’t remember." the merman says, quieter this time.

Isagi runs a hand through his hair. "I remember beer. Lots of beer. Kaiser. And maybe karaoke. But not—" He gestures vaguely at the bathtub. "—this."

"You promised." the merman insists, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolding teacher.

Isagi stares. "Okay, first of all, you have arms. That’s unfair. You shouldn’t get to have both arms and a tail. Pick a side."

From the hallway, Hiori chokes on a laugh.

The merman blinks slowly, unimpressed. "You humans are so strange."

"Yeah, well, you’re in my bathtub." Isagi shoots back, then groans, pressing both hands to his face. "God, I sound insane."

Hiori leans against the doorway. "You want me to call animal control? Or, like, Tinder support?"

"Shut up, Hiori."

"I’m just saying." Hiori continues, smirking. "if this turns into one of those documentaries where people fall in love with dolphins, I’m moving out."

The merman tilts his head "what's is 'fall in love'?"

"NO ONE SAID THAT!" Isagi blurts.

"You kinda did, with your eyes."

"I WILL KILL MYSELF."

The merman looks between them, utterly lost. "You humans… argue a lot."

"Welcome to land." Hiori mutters.

Isagi exhales sharply and crouches down, trying to make sense of the situation. Up close, it’s worse — the merman’s eyes are bright, clear, almost glowing. His tail shifts in the water, shimmering like liquid gemstones.

If this is a dream, it’s the most expensive one Isagi’s ever had.

"Okay." Isagi says finally. "Let’s just start simple. What’s your name?"

“Rin.”

"Rin." He repeats it, blinking. "Right. Of course it’s Rin. Because my life wasn’t complicated enough already."

Rin narrows his eyes. "You talk too much."

"You splash too much!"

"I could stop." Rin says. "If you kept your promise."

"Which was…?"

"You said you’d save me. That you’d take me somewhere safe."

Isagi opens his mouth to answer, then realizes he has absolutely no idea what to say.

He glances helplessly at Hiori, who just shrugs.

"Maybe check your drunk texts?"

"I—" Isagi grabs his phone from the counter, scrolling through his messages. "Let’s see… memes, memes, Uber receipt… oh my god."

"What?" Hiori leans closer.

Isagi turns the screen toward him. There, in his own messy typing, is a message from 2:47 a.m.

“I found a guy who says he lives in the ocean. he’s cold. bringing him home. gonna fix it. I’m a hero 😎”

There’s a picture attached — blurry, but definitely showing a glowing blue fin on the edge of the street.

"Oh my god." Hiori says again. "You kidnapped him."

"I rescued him!"

Rin flicks water at him again. "You dragged me."

"That’s— okay, that sounds bad when you say it like that."

"Because it was bad."

Isagi groans. "I need another drink."

"No." Hiori says immediately. "You need coffee."

“And maybe a lawyer,” Rin adds dryly.

“OH, SO YOU KNOW WHAT'S A LAWYER IS BUT DON’T KNOW WHAT IS 'FALL IN LOVE'??” Isagi snaps.

Hiori sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yup. We’re going to jail."

Isagi stops, takes a deep breath, and forces himself back into something resembling calm.

"Okay. Enough of this." He says it with fake serenity, like he’s totally holding it together. "Rin, you stay here, okay? Hiori—you’re coming with me."

Before either of them can respond, Isagi’s already shoving Hiori out of the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind them.

"So… what’s the plan?" Hiori asks, being dragged toward the living room.

"How did I get home?" Isagi demands, voice serious now. He pushes Hiori onto the couch and immediately starts pacing again like a caged animal.

"You got home pretty late—like, I was literally about to sleep."

Oh, sure. If Hiori was about to sleep (which he never does), it must’ve been way past midnight.

"You were holding something in your arms, and I thought it was… a bag of fish? I don’t know, man, I was half-asleep."

"Oh my god, I can’t remember anything! How am I supposed to fix this—"

"You mentioned Kaiser earlier, right? Maybe you were with him?" Hiori suggests. "Also, why are you pacing like a maniac?"

"Because I’m trying to think! And the last thing I’m gonna do is ask Kaiser for help."

Hiori gives him that smug little smile—the one he always pulls whenever they mention the devil himself.

Or, well, Kaiser.

"Stop being so dramatic! You don’t even have to ask for help. Just ask what you did last night."

Isagi exhales. Hiori’s right—he has to stay rational.

This is serious.

No, insane.

He decides maybe… just maybe, calling Kaiser won’t kill him.

It was already the fifth time Isagi tried to call Kaiser. He swore to God, if he had to hear the dial tone one more time, he’d shove his phone straight into the—

“What the fuck do you want?” Kaiser’s voice comes out rough, half-asleep.

"Jesus—what happened to, ‘Hellooo Yoichi, did you miss me already?' " Isagi mocks, doing the world’s worst impression of him.

“It’s seven. In the morning.” Kaiser growls.

"Oh. Right. My bad! I forgot you’re a useless corpse who wakes up at, like, two in the afternoon."

Kaiser sighed so hard Isagi could feel it through the phone. “What. The fuck. Do you. Want.”

"It’s quick! I just need you to answer something." Isagi switches tones instantly.

“If this is another one of your ‘existential crises puzzles’, I’m hanging up.”

"This one involves sea life, actually."

"…are you high or is this a new cry for help?"

"I’m not—! Just listen!" Isagi glances at Hiori who gives him a thumbs up. "Funny story… haha… I may have, uh, forgotten everything I did last night. So could you maybe tell me what the hell happened??"

…

Silence.

"Hello? Did you fall asleep?"

"You woke me up to ask about your drunk self?"

"I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t important! I’d never call you, actually—"

“Yoichi, did you finally kill someone or what? ’Cause the last time you called me at this hour, it was to ask how to delete your own tweet.” Kaiser’s tone shifts—now he sounds interested. Because of course he does. 

"What? No! And it’s none of your business!"

“C’monnn, at this point we’re basically brothers!”

"Ew. Gross. Don’t ever say that again."

“Thanks, I appreciate the way you say ‘I love you’ to me.”

"Kaiser."

“Ugh. You’re not cool,” Kaiser mutters, followed by the sound of rustling blankets. “Ok. So you forgot everything? Like, name, age, the fact that you’re obsessed with me—”

"I hate you."

“See? Muscle memory.”

"Can you please just answer." Isagi says. he hears a giggle coming from the other side of the line.

"Look, I can’t tell you much. You weren’t the only one drinking. I’ve got the hangover from hell and you just ruined my beauty sleep.”

"Just talk already!"

“Fine. I found you at the bar, drinking like your life depended on it. You invited yourself to my table and started complaining about everything— which, honestly, same. You were holding a bottle like it was your emotional support pet. I remember bits and pieces, since I was probably drunker than you.”

"Of course you were."

“Excuse you, I was celebrating my greatness.”

“By drinking alone?”

“It’s called self-care, Yoichi.”

"Sure."

A long yawn. “Anyway, you started rallying the entire bar for a toast, yelling that everyone should go to the beach a—"

"..What?"

"–nd you gave a whole speech about destiny and friendship."

"That doesn’t sound like me."

“You cried when someone said the ocean was ‘blue like your eyes.' "

"I’m hanging up."

“You tried to hang up on me last night too, right before you hugged a traffic cone.”

Isagi sighs for the fifteenth time that day "Can we not."

"Then we started arguing because I wanted to lie down on the table and you wanted to drag me into the ocean."

"Wow. Isagi Yoichi willingly spending time with his beloved rival." Hiori comments from the background.

“Oh… is that Hiori?” Kaiser perks up.

"No. Keep talking." Isagi hisses, shoving Hiori’s face away from the phone.

“Whatever. Then you stole my whiskey bottle and stormed out of the bar saying you were gonna ‘live at the beach.’ After that, no clue. I didn’t follow you because I’m not an idiot,” Kaiser finishes.

"You could’ve at least checked if I drowned!"

“You said you were gonna live with the fish. I respected your decision.”

"You’re actually insane."

“Takes one to know one, my little Nemo.”

Isagi goes silent. Thinking. Processing. Dying a little inside.

"You’re useless. Go back to sleep, rat."

“Huh? Wait—what do I get for helping yo—”

Isagi hangs up. Tosses his phone onto the couch. Rubs at his temples like he can massage the chaos away.

"That was pointless! We still don’t know how I ended up with that… guy!"

"Yes, but we do know how you got to the beach." Hiori says, standing up. "That’s progress, right? Now…"

He steps closer and places both hands on Isagi’s shoulders.

“You do know how to take care of a mermaid, right?”

And just like that, the headache’s back.

Chapter Text

It had been forty minutes since Hiori left, saying he was going to buy "essential supplies."

Forty. Whole. Minutes.

Which also meant it had been forty minutes since Isagi had been standing frozen in front of the door, trying to build up the courage to talk to the thing. He’d convinced himself that if he stared long enough, maybe a hole would open and the bathroom would disappear—along with the guy inside. Not that he wanted Rin dead or anything. He just wanted everything gone, so he could wake up from the incredible dream he’d just had. And maybe he’d laugh about it later, since it was so vivid and weirdly funny.

Isagi thinks it’s funny. The fact that there’s half a person in his bathroom.

He can sometimes hear faint splashes of water from there. Sometimes nothing at all. He can’t decide which is worse, but he knows which feels worse. He thinks about the water bill that’s definitely going to skyrocket, considering he and Hiori already shower multiple times a day for football, and now they have a creature that needs water 24/7 living in their home. He’s probably broke.

Speaking of said creature.

It’s been ten minutes since he last heard any water noises, which is actually perfect timing for his current thoughts. Because it would be much worse if a half-man half-fish died in his apartment. Isagi could totally handle a normal body—he plans Kaiser’s death every day, that has to count for something—but how does one hide a merman? A male mermaid?

He stares at the door like it might bite him.

He knows he should go in and check if Rin’s okay, but every instinct screams to ignore it, maybe move apartments—or countries—and let his ignorance grow so large that even his brain forgets this ever happened.

Before he can act on any of those plans, his phone buzzes.

A message from Hiori. How ironic. It’s like he knows exactly what Isagi’s about to do.

hiori: is he still alive?

Isagi: how tf am i supposed to know if i haven't checked

hiori: u are a coward

isagi: and YOU abandoned me

hiori: goodluck w ur new aquatic roommate!

and pls make sure he’s alive, i bought some things to test on him

He groans. "I hate him."

He doesn’t move. All his courage evaporates instantly.

"Okay." he mutters quietly. "You’ve faced worse things. Exams. Deadlines. Noel Noa. You got this."

Isagi starts rehearsing in his head what he should say. Maybe 'Hi, I’m Isagi Yoichi, the guy who apparently kidnapped you. Nice to meet you.' could work.

But Isagi Yoichi is Isagi Yoichi. So just the thought of going in and seeing Rin alone again terrifies him.

Dealing with terrifying things is easier when someone’s with you. When Hiori was there, at least he could laugh. They were figuring it out together—it felt normal, appropriate even. How he knows this? Kaiser, who ironically studies psychology, said something like that once during one of his "I’m your wise older brother" moments.

But now he doesn't have Hiori, and thank God he doesn't have Kaiser either. So he has to deal with this alone, which is great. Seriously. Trust him.

Isagi Yoichi is many things. One of them is highly adaptable. Once he realized that, playing football became—well, not easier, but more manageable. That’s the word. Manageable. He just needs to treat this like a match: adapt, adjust, improvise.

The bathroom is the goal. Rin is a player in front of him, waiting for him to attack, at least in his mind. And the door is the ball; he just needs to kick it.

Wait, no kicking. He doesn't need one more thing to pay. Opening it gently is more appropriate.

He exhales and reaches for the handle.

"Just come in already." A voice from the bathroom freezes him mid-motion. Maybe he really should just ignore all of this.

"You know, I was about to do it on my own and you interrupted." The answer comes out as naturally from him as if Rin (the mermaid, the person he was thinking of as a threat) was his roommate, and not Hiori (the human).

"You think so loud it’s disgusting."

Okay. He’s terrified of a rude merman with zero manners. The least Rin could do is pretend he doesn’t know Isagi’s behind the door.

That’s enough to make Isagi open the door—maybe to yell, maybe to prove a point—and there he is.

Rin. Real. Definitely real. And yes, a mermaid. A male mermaid?

Isagi was still holding on to the faint hope that he and Hiori were just high and that this wasn’t actually a half-fish. But instead of cursing him out or saying anything at all, the words die in his throat the moment he gets a proper look at Rin. His tail is practically spilling out of the bathtub—completely visible and so, like, so bright. Extra points for being emerald green.

"Hi." comes out of his mouth instead of any curse, trying to sound casual.

Rin lifts his eyes from the bathtub, his expression unreadable. "Hi."

They stare at each other in awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. And Isagi starts to think he might actually be high, because suddenly it feels like time has stopped and the weird guy named Rin looks way too pretty.

Pretty.

He’s starting to regret opening that door.

Diverting his gaze to the floor, there’s water everywhere — dripping from the tub, soaking the tiles, pooling around Isagi’s socks. The bathroom looks like someone lost a fight with a wave. He’s really going to have to deal with that damn water bill.

"You flooded my floor." Isagi says flatly.

Rin blinks. "You flooded first."

"What does that even mean? Okay, you know what? Never mind." He scratches the back of his neck. "Right. So, uh, I think we got off on the wrong foot… but that’s fine! Let’s start over. I’m Isagi Yoichi."

He extends a hand, even though he’s standing a few steps away. Rin just looks at it like he’s an idiot. “I know. You told me yesterday.”

“Huh… I did?” Lowering his hand awkwardly, Isagi nods. “Of course I did. Last night.”

Rin doesn’t answer. He just looks back down at the bathwater, completely uninterested in whatever Isagi has to say — or, more accurately, complain about. And, as previously mentioned, Isagi knows how to adapt. So he’s not about to shut up just because the guy in his bathtub is ignoring him.

That’s not humiliation. It’s called being polite and trying to make friends with a half-fish person.

“So, you’re just Rin? Or like, Prince of the Sea or something?”

“Just Rin.”

“Cool. Totally normal. Love that for us.”

Rin glances at his reflection. "Us?"

"Yeah? Me and you?" Isagi points between them. "You know it’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking to you?"

"You talk too much." Rin sinks lower into the tub until only his shoulder shows.

"Yeah, sorry, that’s my default setting."

Isagi walks slowly toward the bathtub and lowers himself awkwardly onto the floor beside it — instantly regretting it, because it’s still wet. He leans against the cold porcelain and does his best not to make eye contact.

Big mistake.

Now that he’s closer, he notices things he really shouldn’t.

Because from here — from this unfairly close distance — Isagi can actually see him.

Not just see, like oh wow, pretty mermaid guy. But see see. Every small detail that makes Rin feel almost unreal.

His skin catches the light in a way that shouldn’t even be possible — not shiny, exactly, but luminous, like sunlight filtering through shallow water. His hair is the exact color of the deep ocean, the kind that swallows you whole if you stare too long. There’s a green tint to it too, and Isagi figures it must be some sort of sea thing.

And then there are his eyes. God. His eyes.

They’re green, but not the easy kind of green — emerald. Layered, shifting, sea-glass and storm all mixed together, with a brightness that looks like it knows too much. Every time he blinks, with those ridiculously long lashes, Isagi swears he can hear waves crashing somewhere inside his head.

How is that fair?

Why does he get to look like a whole myth while I look like I forgot how to function as a human being?

Isagi blinks. His brain is trying to hold a normal thought, any thought, but every neuron just repeats, He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty. He’s so—

Rin turns his head slightly, eyes cutting toward him with that sharp, unreadable calm.

"You’re staring." he says.

And just like that, Isagi’s soul combusts. "I— I wasn’t— I was just, uh, analyzing… the physics of your tail. For science."

"Sure."

Isagi goes quiet. He feels like he could die of embarrassment. It’s only the second time he’s talked to Rin, and somehow he’s managed to humiliate himself more than the first.

But it’s fine. Because when Hiori gets back, they’ll take Rin back to the ocean, and this whole moment will fade into oblivion. He’ll never see him again, and Rin definitely won’t remember that Isagi was starin—

"Where’s that guy?" Rin cuts through his thoughts. "The blue head."

"Uh? Blue head?” The merman nods. "Oh, his name’s Hiori. He’s my roommate. I guess drunk-me didn’t introduce you properly."

"You said you lived in a ‘futibal’ stadium. Alone."

"It’s football, actually." Isagi leans back against the wall. "And honestly, that’s not a bad idea."

"Where I come from, if you move homes, you get killed for trespassing into another kingdom."

"Not that different from here. If you’re a foreigner in a white country, you’ve got, like, a 90% chance of getting racially profiled." Maybe Rin’s kind isn’t that different from his after all. Except, you know, for the tail.

"White people?" Rin perks up a little, clearly intrigued. "Do you also have blue or green people?"

"What? No. I mean, maybe if you squeeze someone hard enough they’ll turn blue, but no, we don’t—"

"I’ll test that later."

"Yeah… haha, later…" Okay, scratch that. Maybe they are very different. Because who hears that and thinks 'Great idea, let’s try it later.’

Maybe this is the part where he runs out of the bathroom and calls the FBI.
Or maybe he should just change the subject. He’s good at talking — people used to call him the 'cool guy' back in school because, even if he wasn’t popular, he could talk to anyone.

"So… do you, uh, breathe underwater or— wait, that’s probably a dumb question."

Rin blinks. "I do."

"Right. Cool. Me too. I mean, not underwater—"

"Then not the same thing."

"…Fair point."

There’s a pause. Then, quietly, Rin huffs something that might actually be a laugh.

Not a single thought passes through Isagi’s head. His mouth just… keeps going on its own.

“Your species laughs.”

“Species?”

Okay, maybe he should run.

Because Rin’s expression shifts so fast it actually startles him. And now Isagi’s thinking he really should’ve put Kaiser down as the one to inherit his Noel Noa merch — at least then Isagi would get something out of this mess.

"Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I mean— you’re a beautiful species. No, wait— not like—"

"You’re rude."

"Look who’s talking."

And just like that, silence again. They stare at each other — Rin looking vaguely annoyed, which should be a bad thing. Rationally, Isagi knows that. But the stupid part of his brain is way too focused on how good Rin looks when he’s irritated.

That’s normal, right? Finding a guy attractive while they look like they might kill you? A guy who’s a merman, which technically cancels out the guy part?

Yeah. Totally normal. He’s definitely under some kind of mermaid hypnosis.

"You’re touching my tail."

Silence.

Oh.

"Okay, I’m leaving now."

Isagi shoots to his feet, slips slightly, and bolts out of the room. He shuts the door, leans against it, and exhales loudly.

What. Was. That.

Is touching their tail, like, a crime in merfolk culture? Is Rin going to kill me? Does Rin hate me now? I don’t want a merman to hate me. Maybe if I offers something in return—

"Are you hungry?" Isagi yells.

A pause.

"Yes." Rin answers simply.

Right. Perfect. He’ll give Rin something to eat and everything will be fine again. Totally fine.
Except— what the hell do mermaids eat? Or, well, mermen.

Isagi starts pacing. In one of those weird documentaries Hiori likes to watch on the living room TV, he once heard that big fish eat smaller fish. So… are merfolk predatory fish? Would that count as cannibalism?

"I can hear you overthinking." Rin’s voice echoes from the bathroom.

Nosy. Nosy, annoying, rude. Out of all the mermaids in the ocean, he had to bring home the most irritable one?

Isagi doesn’t respond. He just walks off, dragging his feet like a man heading to his own execution

The apartment feels way too quiet now. The kind of quiet that makes your thoughts echo louder than they should. He can still hear the faint sound of water dripping behind the bathroom door — and somehow, that makes it worse.

He stops in the middle of the living room, staring at absolutely nothing.

"Okay, think, Isagi. You are a grown man."

He takes out his phone.

"Step one." he mutters. "Research."

He opens Google. The screen lights up his tired face, and for a second he feels like maybe — maybe — this is manageable.

He types slowly, carefully, like the universe might judge him for it:

> what do mermaids eat

He hits enter.

The first result pops up in bold letters:

“Mermaids don’t exist. Seek help.”

Isagi blinks. Great. He’s hallucinating and Google agrees.

He scrolls further.

“They feed on seaweed, small fish, and sometimes the hearts of sailors.”

Right. Because he totally has a sailor heart lying around. He keeps scrolling, clicking random links. One of them is an online quiz titled ‘Which type of mermaid are you?’

He stares for a moment.

"I’m the kind that’s suffering."

He sighs, leaning back against the counter, rubbing his face with both hands.

His brain is a mess. His house is flooded. There’s a mythical creature in his bathtub.

And Hiori left him. On purpose.

He checks his messages again.

hiori: goodluck w ur new aquatic roommate!

and pls make sure he’s alive, i bought some things to test on him

don’t kill him.

or let him kill you, idk

"Best roommate ever." he mumbles.

He looks up at the kitchen ceiling. "I could just… pretend this isn’t happening. I could move. Start over. Change my name. Maybe ‘Yoichi the Normal Human."

He glances back toward the bathroom door. The apartment feels smaller when he looks at it, like Rin’s presence somehow stretches to fill every room.

Okay. Food. Focus.

He reopens the browser.

> merman diet realistic not fantasy please

The page loads painfully slow. He taps the screen like that’ll help.

Finally, a text pops up.

“How To Roleplay With Your Boyfriend Was A Merman”

Isagi stares at it for a long moment.

He feels like he could die right now. This is karma — for every time he’s ever stolen the ball from someone on the field. "…I hate this. I hate this so much."

He shuts the phone so fast he almost drops it.

He breathes in. Out.

Then he decides he’ll just go with whatever his heart tells him. Rin can’t be that picky, right? And Isagi’s a pretty good cook! He thinks. Though, yeah, Rin probably eats things raw. But that’s fine — Isagi can teach him how to have taste.

Actually, no, he can’t. It’s not like Rin’s staying anyway.

He grabs a random can. Tuna. Of course. The universe’s idea of a joke.

He holds it up. Expired. "You’re kidding."

Maybe living with Hiori isn’t the best idea after all, because the guy only ever goes grocery shopping to buy snacks. And Isagi mostly survives off healthy delivery food. So anything they do have at home is probably expired.

Still, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Sort of. Not really.

He grabs the can opener and sets it down dramatically on the counter. "Fine. It’s this or nothing. If he complains, I’ll tell him it’s human cuisine. Gourmet. Michelin star."

He glances at the clock.

5 minutes have passed.

Then 10.

Then 15.

Every creak in the apartment makes him jump. He swears the dripping water sound got louder.

He’s pacing now, tuna can still in hand.

Do I bring it to him? Do I serve it? Is that offensive? What if I feed him wrong and he, like, curses me?

He looks up at the ceiling.

"God, if you’re listening, please don’t let me die because I gave a mermaid expired tuna."

As if on cue, a voice comes from the bathroom:

"If you’re talking to yourself, I can hear it."

He freezes.

"I’m not! I was—uh—thinking out loud!"

"You think too loud."

"Oh my god, he’s psychic."

"I'm not psychic. You’re just dumb."

"Whatever, whatever, whatever!"

It’s been ten minutes since Isagi started debating whether giving someone expired tuna counts as a federal crime.

Probably not, because mermaids don’t have human rights. Technically speaking, Rin’s only half human — so at worst, Isagi would only be half guilty.

He presses his forehead against the counter, eyes wide.

"I’m losing my mind." he mutters. "I’m losing my mind and I’m out of tuna."

"Already lost it." says a voice behind him.

Isagi turns. Way too fast. He nearly slips and falls on his ass.

Rin is standing in the doorway.

With. Legs.

Absurdly long, perfect legs, still shining with drops of water. He’s wearing Isagi’s bathrobe — which barely reaches halfway down his thighs. Isagi dies a slow, painful death by internal combustion. He remembers when he bought that robe, and everyone made fun of him, saying he just wanted to seduce someone with it.

God forbid he wanted to get out of the shower comfortably.

At the time, he thought that was ridiculous.

Now he’s convinced it’s the other way around.

Actually, no — he’s convinced the robe and the guy who used to have a tail and now has legs are both demons sent from hell to ruin his life.

Why did that thing cover so little? He doesn’t want a half-naked guy in his kitchen! And with Rin’s fish brain, he probably didn’t even think to wear anything underneath.

He points — can’t even form a proper sentence:

"…You— you have—"

"Legs." Rin supplies, perfectly calm. "Yeah. I noticed."

Isagi blinks.

"You noticed?"

"Got bored. The water was getting warm. I need cold water." Rin says, scanning the kitchen with quiet curiosity.

"You got bored— that’s your explanation?? You were a— a— tail person! Ten minutes ago!"

"Would you rather I stay in there until I wrinkle?"

"Honestly, yeah, that’d be less terrifying—"

"Stop being weird." Rin cuts him off, brushing past like he owns the place — clearly irritated. He checks the cabinets, the microwave, taps the faucet — all with that quiet, barely-hidden curiosity.

Isagi stays frozen, completely locked in place.

And then it happens — the internal monologue. The inevitable spira:.

Okay. Right. He’s walking. He has legs. And thighs. Why are you noticing his thighs, Isagi? Stop noticing his thighs. He’s a mythical being, not a thirst trap. He just— grew legs. People do that, right? Happens all the time. Perfectly normal. Mermaid turns human, steals your bathrobe, walks into your kitchen half-naked— 

"I need a vacation. Or an exorcism." He presses a hand to his face, mumbling quietly.  "You’re dripping on my floor." Isagi mutters — mostly to distract himself.

Rin raises an eyebrow. "You sound like a grandmother."

"Excuse me?! Do you even know what a grandmother is?"

"Always complaining about everything. And I'm a merman, not dumb."

“You’re— you’re soaking the floor! And there’s nothing under that robe, is there?”

Rin turns his head slowly, unbothered. "No."

Isagi makes a sound that’s somewhere between a scream and a prayer. How much weirder can this possibly get? And why does this guy already look so comfortable? He’s touching everything — he’s literally figuring out how to open the microwave right now, and that’s somehow scarier than when he had a tail.

“Your water was warm.” Rin repeats, clearly implying Isagi should fix the bath.

"Right." Isagi says, dazed. "You must’ve turned the wrong handle, that’s why it got hot. It’s, uh, thermodynamics."

Rin blinks, head tilting slightly. "That word doesn’t sound real."

"Neither do you." Isagi mutters before he can stop himself.

Silence.

Rin walks — or, well, tries to walk. Still a bit awkward, but enough for Isagi to notice how quickly he learns. Each step is careful, fluid, almost like he’s still underwater. Isagi’s throat goes dry when Rin stops beside him, eyes scanning the kitchen counter with a kind of quiet curiosity that feels ancient.

Now that he thinks about it, this must be Rin’s first time with legs. He hasn’t said anything, but the way he moves gives it away — too cautious, too deliberate. Isagi doesn’t ask, though; it feels like the kind of rude question people write articles about.

"Just ask already." Rin says.

"What?"

"You want to ask something."

"Do mermaids just— read minds or something?"

"You’re just very obvious. Idiot."

"Okay." Isagi sighs. "Then how—" He gestures vaguely at Rin’s legs. "This. Happened?"

"Not your business."

"You told me to ask!"

"I said ask, not that I’d answer."

Isagi makes another strangled sound halfway between despair and divine pleading."Okay. You know what? Sit. There. On the couch. Don’t move. I’m— I’m gonna find clothes.

Rin watches him leave the kitchen, then obediently sits where told — legs crossed, robe slipping dangerously open at the knee. Isagi makes a mental note to burn that thing later.

He starts rummaging through the hallway closet, tossing shirts into the air, trying very hard not to think about how nothing he owns will fit. Seriously, how is Rin taller than him? He almost had a heart attack when the guy stood up for the first time.

Oh. Right. He was supposed to be finding food.

"You eat fish? Fruit? Chips? Do you even— eat?" Isagi calls out, raising his voice so Rin can hear him from the living room.

"Not like you."

"Meaning?"

"Energy. I take what’s around me." Rin’s voice sounds calm, almost distant. "Air. Magic. Those things. But I can eat too— it just doesn’t do much."

"Magic." Isagi repeats, half-laughing. "Sure, yeah, next you’ll say you photosynthesize."

Silence.

"...Wait. Do you?"

Rin doesn’t answer.

Isagi groans, turning back to the cabinet. "Okay. I’m just housing a magical sea guy who runs on vibes."

"Exactly."

Isagi spins around, ready to argue— and freezes.

Rin isn’t moving. Eyes closed, body completely still, breathing shallow and quiet.

"Rin?"

Nothing.

"Rin."

He drops the pile of clothes and rushes over. "Oh no, no, no— you can’t just die here, okay? That’s illegal, I think!"

He drops to his knees beside him, hand hovering uselessly over Rin’s shoulder. He looks peaceful. Which is a problem. Dead people look peaceful.

"Shit." Isagi mutters. "Shit, shit, shit—"

Isagi does what anyone in his situation would do—if 'anyone' meant a guy who accidentally brought home a half-merman while drunk, who somehow became his third roommate overnight, and who has now passed out on his couch after spontaneously growing legs.

With great difficulty and even greater panic, he drags Rin back to the bathroom, practically throws him into the tub, and ends up completely soaked in the process. He twists the shower knob, blasting cold water straight into Rin’s face. That’s fine, right? He can breathe underwater. Totally fine.

Rin doesn’t move. Doesn’t even twitch. He doesn’t look like he’s breathing.

Do mermaids even breathe?? Not the time, Isagi.

He slaps Rin’s face once. Then again. Then a third time, before giving up and grabbing his phone with wet hands.

And then, of course, he realizes he has absolutely no idea who the hell he’s supposed to call.

He snatches his phone off the counter, scrolling through his contacts like a man possessed. He’s not calling the police or an ambulance—no way he’s explaining 'I think my merman roommate died in my bathtub.' He tries Hiori first—voicemail. Of course. Who leaves the house with 3% battery?

Bachira’s in Brazil with Lavinho, completely different time zone. Ness? Absolutely not. He’d either record Isagi crying for blackmail material or try to kidnap Rin for being 'a real magical creature.'

His eyes land on a name he immediately regrets considering.

Kaiser.

He’s going to have to call Kaiser again. For the second time today.

"Please pick up, please pick up—"

"Yoichi?"

"KAISER— thank god—"

"Wow, that’s a first. twice in the same day!"

"Not now, listen— I think someone’s dying in my apartment."

"...Define ‘someone'."

"Uh. The guy from the bathtub."

"You have a guy in your bathtub?"

"It’s not what it sounds like!"

"Oh, so you’re finally experimenting—"

"KAISER. HE’S A MERMAN."

Pause.

"You have a weird teste."

"I’M NOT. HE HAS LEGS NOW. I DON’T KNOW HOW. AND NOW HE’S NOT BREATHING."

"Yoichi, take a breath."

"I— I can’t! That’s what he should be doing!"

“Okay, okay— uh, put him back in water?”

"I DID. NOTHING HAPPENED."

“Hm.”

"Hm?! That’s all you’ve got?!"

“Sorry, I’m at the store. Hard to focus when Hiori’s deciding between three kinds of sea salt.”

"YOU’RE— WITH HIORI?!"

“Yeah. I found him at the store."

"Kaiser— please— what do I do" Isagi holds the cell phone with his shoulder trying to shake Rin with both hands.

“Did you check for a pulse?”

"He doesn’t have one! He’s a— a fish person!"

“Then maybe he’s fine.”

"What— what do you mean fine?! He looks DEAD!"

“Or sleeping.”

"People don’t sleep like corpses—"

“Maybe mermaids do.”

"You’re useless. how are you so sure?"

“Love you too, Yoichi. And I don't think you know me well.”

“I’m hanging up.”

"no. Wait. Seriously, listen to me. He’s fin-"

“Isagi.”

He freezes.

Slowly, he looks at Rin's face. Rin's eyes are open.

"Shut up.” Rin mumbles.

“YOU WERE DEAD.”

“I was resting.”

“RESTING?! You fainted!”

“No. Just recharging. I was talking about that.” He sits up straighter, his robe soaked through.

“That’s not a thing people do!” isagi says.

“I’m not people.”

“TAKE A PICTURE, I WANNA SEE THE FISHMAN.” Kaiser’s voice blasts through the phone speaker — way too loud, way too Kaiser — reminding Isagi that, oh right, he never hung up.

Which means he just told Kaiser there’s a merman in his house.

For absolutely no reason. Because Rin is fine.

Rin turns to him slowly, glare sharp enough to slice through glass. His expression says 'I will drown you myself.'

"Who is that?" he asks, voice low and dangerous.

"Kaiser." Isagi whispers back. "He’s like, uh—"

"A brother!" Kaiser yells helpfully from the phone.

"—An acquaintance.” Isagi finishes quickly, shooting the phone a look of pure betrayal. "I… may have told him that you were a merman."

He says the last part so quietly it barely counts as sound.

Rin flicks against the water, hard enough to splash Isagi in the fathat.

He deserves that.

“You told someone??"

“I panicked!”

Rin sighs, sits up slowly, and takes the phone from Isagi’s trembling hand. "hey."

"Hi aquaman."

“No mermaid here.” Rin says flatly, then hangs up.

The silence that follows is loud enough to make Isagi’s ears ring.

Rin leans back in the bathtub, eyes half-lidded, clearly done with life.

“Problem solved.”

“Problem— what— no! You just lied to him! He’s gonna think I'm drunk again!”

“Good.”

“Oh my god.”

Rin just yawns, looking far too comfortable for someone who just scared five years off Isagi’s life. “You humans panic over everything.”

“I—YOU—" Isagi takes a deep breath. "Okay. Fine. Whatever. I’m going to bed. And you’re sleeping in the bathtub.”

Rin shrugs, like that’s the most reasonable thing he’s heard all day. “Fine. Keep your fabric couch.”

“Good!”

“Good.”

Isagi doesn’t actually leave.

He tells himself he will — that he’ll get up, go to bed, finally return to the sleep he was interrupted hours ago, maybe sleep until Hiori returns— but he doesn’t. He stays there, crouched on the bathroom floor, elbows resting on his knees, head leaning against the cool tile wall. The sound of running water fills the space again, steady and rhythmic.

Neither of them says anything for a while.

Isagi wants to sigh — to just stop and replay everything that’s happened in such a ridiculously short span of time.

But his brain is so fried from the constant chaos that he’s pretty sure if the world ended right now, he wouldn’t even lift a finger to run.

He wants to apologize to Rin — not for telling Kaiser about the whole merman thing, but for dragging him home and then forgetting about it. Maybe if he did, Rin would accept the apology, go back to wherever he came from, and this entire fever dream would finally end.

But before he can say anything, it’s Rin who breaks the silence.

"Why did you tell him?"

It takes Isagi a second to catch up. "Kaiser?"

Rin nods, eyes fixed on the rippling water.

"I panicked, okay?" Isagi rubs the back of his neck, words tumbling out. "I never do that, I swear. But it’s kinda hard to stay calm when there’s— you— in my house."

Rin’s tone doesn’t change, but something in it cuts a little sharper. "You said this place was safe. And now you’re telling other people."

Isagi winces. "Yeah, I know how that sounds. But— look, I don’t even remember what I told you last night, and Kaiser might be a pain in the ass, but he’s reliable. So you’re still safe from whatever it is you’re… running from, I promise. And you didn’t exactly freak out when you saw Hiori."

Rin finally turns his head, meeting Isagi’s eyes. "Last night, you said Hiori was reliable too."

That catches him completely off guard. "Wait— you remember that?"

Rin doesn’t answer.

Of course. Why didn’t Isagi think to just ask him what happened before? He could’ve saved himself a whole lot of trouble.

"Okay, so— can you tell me what happened while I was drunk?" Isagi asks carefully. "Because apparently, my memory decided to take a vacation."

Rin’s expression shuts down immediately. "You forgot. That’s your problem, not mine."

Right. Dead end.

Isagi exhales through his nose, defeated. He slides down until he’s sitting beside the bathtub, his back resting against the porcelain, legs stretched out on the wet floor.

Rin watches him for a moment before murmuring, “You’re getting soaked. The water’s still running.”

“I’m already soaked,” Isagi says with a quiet laugh. “My brain’s been running laps since I woke up, so maybe this is fine. Maybe sitting here doing nothing is... the best idea I’ve had all day.”

Rin doesn’t reply, but his tail moves lazily in the water, sending little ripples that blend with the steady hum of the shower.

Neither of them speaks again. But the silence isn’t heavy anymore. 

And for the first time since all this chaos began, Isagi feels like maybe—just maybe—he can breathe again.

He realizes that maybe talking to Rin isn’t as hard as he thought. Everything’s so calm now that he feels like he could fall asleep right there, in the bathtub, fully dressed and dripping wet.

He figures it must be halfway through the day by now—Hiori should be home soon. Actually, he should’ve been home ages ago, but Isagi’s too tired to even text him, much less care.

“Hey, Rin.” Isagi starts.

Rin only makes a small sound in acknowledgment, staring at nothing the same way Isagi is.

“Are you okay with this? Like… being here, in my house?” Isagi asks, his voice sounding hazy, almost dazed. “Do you miss it? Your home, I mean.”

Rin doesn’t answer right away. He looks back down at the water, watching his reflection ripple and fade. Isagi wonders if he said something he shouldn’t have.

"No." Rin says finally. "It’s home. But homes aren’t always kind."

Isagi’s not sure what to say to that. He’s not used to silence meaning this much. Usually, silence just means he’s overthinking something stupid. But at least now he knows he definitely shouldn’t bring up Rin going back—because from the sound of it, Rin really does prefer this chaos over that

Still, Isagi decides not to ask anything else. It feels like it’d be rude.

“Well… you can stay as long as you want. The bathroom’s all yours.”

Rin doesn’t reply, which Isagi takes as a silent thank-you, since the air doesn’t feel heavy anymore. The sound of running water fills the bathroom so comfortably that Isagi almost forgets it’s still running—and that it’ll probably start flooding soon if the drain clogs.

He closes his eyes and makes a mental note to try remembering what he did last night… and also to make Rin pay for the water bill.

But for now, he thinks he could get used to this

Chapter Text

Isagi’s been trying to follow Hiori’s explanation for the past thirty minutes—something about why he disappeared for two whole days.

The explanation itself sounds a lot like one of those times when the scoreboard reads 0–2, and Hiori starts describing a 'foolproof strategy' to turn the game around with two minutes left in the second half. Except this time, it’s about how he stayed over at Karasu’s place 'to clear things up.' as if he were being tailed by a private investigator.

"That’s why we have to take him back to the sea." Hiori says, pulling out a whiteboard that’s clearly been gathering dust inside the closet. "Pass me that screw, please."

Isagi, sitting on Hiori’s bed and rummaging through the pile of materials, blinks. "I didn’t understand a single word you just said." he mutters, handing the screws over.

"Are you drunk again or what?" Hiori sighs.

"It’s hard to process anything when you wake me up at six in the morning to assemble a board while talking at light speed." Isagi yawns. "Sorry if my brain doesn’t run on your Insanity Time Zone, Hiori."

Hiori crouches on the floor to adjust the base of the board. "I’ll make it clearer this time."

He stretches out his hand for a small screwdriver, and when Isagi passes it, he waits for him to start talking again. But the only sounds are birds chirping outside and Hiori working in silence.

"Hiori? Is this your idea of being clearer?"

"Kaiser wants to come here to confirm Rin’s existence." Hiori says, eyes still fixed on the screw. Isagi goes dead pale.

“Why? What, does he want an autograph?!” Isagi regains his voice. “If Kaiser walks in here and sees a fish tail, he’s gonna think it’s a modern art installation named after him.”

"Ah, there it is. You only start listening when I mention Kaiser." Hiori exhales like a man preparing for battle. "Anyway, I kept him distracted while I was there. But I had the feeling he’d want to come along if I said I was heading home, so I crashed at Karasu’s instead. Luckily for you, Kaiser’s schedule seems packed, so he won’t bother us for a while. Still, I think we should move Rin out of here soon—he said he wanted to meet whoever hung up on him."

He delivers all that in about two seconds flat, stepping back to admire his freshly assembled board.

"Wait—slow down." Isagi stands. "If that all happened in one day, why were you gone for two?"

Hiori looks up with the smug little smile of a narrator who knows more than the protagonist. “Karasu’s a nice guy.”

Isagi rolls his eyes. "You disappeared an extra day because he’s nice?"

“Details,” Hiori says, grabbing a marker from his desk. “Now, about the plan to send Rin back to—”

“No.” The word leaves Isagi’s mouth before he can think. No hesitation, no regret.

Hiori blinks. “...‘No’? You didn’t even let me finish.”

"He doesn’t want to go back." Isagi says simply. "I think he’s running away from something. After he hung up on Kaiser, we talked for a while."

Hiori’s attention shifts fully to him now. He turns away from the board, waiting.

"I asked if he missed his home." Isagi continues. "He said… that home isn’t always kind."

Hiori nods, thoughtful. "Understandable."

"So I told him he could stay here as long as he wanted. Though I’m pretty sure I said something similar the night I found him." Isagi admits, scratching his cheek.

Hiori raises a brow. "Wow. You already offered him a permanent stay?"

"He’s easier to talk to than I expected. I’m not gonna send a guy who needs a new home back to wherever he’s running from." Isagi says. "These past few days, with just me and him, it’s been… calmer than I thought."

"You really can talk to anyone." Hiori says.

"I think he hates me." Isagi laughs, then sobers up. "Honestly, though, I feel like I owe him something. He seems upset with me. Probably because I can’t remember the night I met him. I must’ve said something that made him believe in me, but he won’t talk about it. He just acts… tsundere."

"He has every right to be."

"To be tsundere?"

"No, Isagi. To be upset." Hiori’s tone is serious now.

Isagi looks offended. "Ah."

'Dude, you really need to stop drinking so much. You managed to emotionally offend a mermaid." Hiori says, patting his shoulder. "Look, when I found him in the bathroom that day, the first thing he did was ask for you."

“Huh?” Isagi’s brain flatlines. If it had been working before, it’s officially not now.

"He was definitely waiting for you." Hiori goes on. "Somehow, you left a great impression on him. My guess? You saved him. But—he overheard our conversation behind the door. He’s probably really upset."

Isagi goes silent. He knows it’s true, even if he never meant for it to happen. He broke a promise he doesn’t even remember making—to someone who, in his own way, still feels too innocent for all this. Whatever chaos came before doesn’t erase the guilt pressing on his chest now.

"But that’s just a theory!" Hiori jumps in before Isagi can drown in his thoughts. "I don’t know what really happened. I shut the door on him before he could say anything else."

"Please make me forget that day." Isagi groans, flopping face-first onto Hiori’s bed.

"You technically already did."

"Can we not.” Isagi says, rolling his eyes. "Also, why the hell are you setting up that board again?"

Hiori shrugs, dragging the board into a corner. "It was for Rin’s escape plan. But since you want him to stay, I’ll just keep it ready. I’ve got a feeling we’ll need it again."

Isagi arches an eyebrow from his upside-down position. "You only bring that thing out when you’re about to commit war crimes."

"Exactly." Hiori starts tidying up the rest of the tools. "If Kaiser asks about Rin or shows up here, we’ll just say he’s your cousin from the countryside."

"My cousin doesn’t have gills, Hiori."

"Then he’s an exchange student." Hiori shrugs. "Also, you should really try remembering that night, you know."

“I’ve tried.” Isagi mumbles, rolling over to stare at him. “But my head starts hurting the moment I think about it.”

“Normally you manage to remember your drunk episodes one way or another.” Hiori sits at his desk, typing something.

“Yeah, well, this one’s different.” Isagi says, propping his chin on his hand. “Feels like someone wiped my brain clean.”

"Come on, Isagi, only you could get involved with a mermaid and come out of it with amnesia instead of a magical kiss." Hiori laughs.

“Hey, don’t joke. I’m serious. I think someone cast a spell on me.”

“You sound just like Ness.”

Isagi grimaces. “Well, we have a mermaid living in our apartment now, so I’d say magic and curses are officially real.”

“Then why don’t you ask Rin to restore your memories with his magic?”

“That guy wouldn’t even tell me what I did while drunk, let alone cast a spell for me. Assuming he can. If he ever used any kind of power on me, it’d probably be to kill me.”

“Test it.”

“What?”

“Get out of my room and test it.”

Silence.

“…you sound exactly like ‘Rin-kun.'"

“Isagi, get out of my room and let me game.”

Living with Rin is like sharing a house with a ghost. You know he exists, but there’s never any solid proof.

Rin spends twenty-three hours in the bathroom, and the remaining one asking Isagi to bring him cold water for the bathtub. It’s enough for Isagi to almost forget he’s even there.

That’s why, during the first week alone, Isagi nearly performed his basic bodily functions in front of Rin about seven times — just because he’d woken up half-asleep and forgot there was a sea creature occupying the only bathroom.

The fact that Rin doesn’t make any sound in there freaks Isagi out deeply. The only sign of life is the sliver of light leaking from under the door at night. Other than that, it’s like only he and Hiori exist in the apartment.

That’s also why Isagi created a habit of checking on Rin at least ten times a day. He still feels a bit guilty about everything that happened, so he tries to make Rin as comfortable as possible. He asks things like: 'Do you need towels?' 'Do you need special soap for your tail?' 'Are you leaving the bathroom today?”

All of which are answered with a flat no. Rin never says more than that.

Damn Hiori, the one who said he could talk to anyone.

Rin doesn’t tell him to leave, though. In fact, the one time he said anything other than 'no.' it was to say 'shut up.' When Isagi asked if he wanted him to go away, Rin just said he wanted silence.

That was the longest conversation they’d had in the first two weeks Rin officially lived there. And just the fact that Rin didn’t tell him to stop makes Isagi want to be noticed — at least enough for Rin to tell him to stop.

Hiori said maybe that’s just Rin’s nature, and that their apartment must feel weird to him, so he prefers to stay quiet.

But Isagi thinks if that were true, Rin would’ve interacted with something. Instead, the only time he saw him outside the bathroom was at 3 a.m.

More precisely, 3:45 a.m. — when Isagi woke up with an urgent need that felt like divine punishment.

Seriously, it was as if he’d drunk five bottles of water and made a blood pact to never pee again. That kind of desperation that makes you rethink every life choice — especially the one where you move in with a sea creature who doesn’t even say good morning.

He got up fast, tripped over his own feet, and nearly faceplanted into the wall before reaching the bathroom door. A light was on. A thin, bright stripe cut across the dark hallway.

“Hey, Rin. Can I come in?” he said, staring at the door like it might respond telepathically.

Nothing.

He waited two minutes. Normal. Rin had that talent for turning any simple reply into a 120-second spiritual process. But when five minutes passed and the light still flickered inside, the physical discomfort started competing with the psychological fear.

He knocked. Lightly first, then harder.

"Rin, I know you don’t like talking to me, but I’m kind of desperate here." He said, voice caught between desperation and offense.

Silence. Which was weird.

Normally, if Rin wanted to ignore him, he’d at least do it audibly.
Now—nothing. And that made Isagi bite his lip.

“Great. He’s doing that energy thing again. Fantastic. I’m gonna piss myself because the aquatic monk won’t answer. Love that for me.” He muttered to himself, pressing his ear to the door.

Nothing. Absolute silence.

The kind that swallows even the sound of your heartbeat.

He stood there, listening to the void, imagining every worst-case scenario: Rin evaporated. Rin turned into sea foam. Rin got kidnapped by hostile plumbing.

'Maybe I’ve gone deaf.' He thought, panicking.

“Isagi.”

The voice came from behind him.

Low, dry, absolutely out of place.

Isagi screamed — a sound that probably woke the entire building.

He spun around so fast he nearly slammed himself against the door, heart clawing up his throat.

And there was Rin.

Behind him.

Dripping wet, alive, and looking the most unbothered a person has ever looked.

Isagi was still panting like an electrocuted cat.

“RIN, WHAT THE FUCK?!” he shouted, pointing a trembling finger. “Are you trying to kill me? I swear to god, I almost died! You make no noise, you’re like—like an aquatic ghost!”

Rin blinked, expression blank. Water dripped slowly from his hair onto his shirt.

He looked absolutely indifferent to Isagi’s near-death experience.

“...Lukewarm.”

“What?” Isagi blinked.

“The water.” Rin tilted his chin slightly, as if this were self-explanatory. “It’s too warm.”

It took Isagi a few seconds to process the sentence. He was almost sure Rin was trying to insult him but took a detour halfway.

He blinked three more times, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water — ironically matching Rin’s own energy.

“You… you came out of the bathroom just to complain about the water temperature?”

“Yes.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“And you were standing behind me for that?”

“Yes.”

Isagi blinked again. Then again. Then sighed.

“Okay… let’s fix your water.”

After that, Rin stopped asking for cold water.

Which honestly frustrated Isagi — because the one thing that made Rin talk to him on his own suddenly stopped, and now he felt like an intruder in his own home.

He realized that’s why things had been so quiet. Not because he was handling it well, but because Rin simply didn’t care to be there.

But that didn’t mean Isagi didn’t try. Instead of just checking on him, he started sitting on the toilet lid to talk.

It never worked.

Usually, he’d adapt to people until they liked him. That always worked. That’s why Isagi was the cool guy everywhere he went. 

But Rin was different. He wasn’t like anyone — wasn’t even the same species. Rin threw him off his rhythm, and instead of getting angry, Isagi just felt… more motivated. Like the challenge itself lit up something new in his chest.

If Kaiser saw him now, he’d say Isagi’s being all emotional because, for the first time, someone refused to accept his easy charm — and now he’s desperate to be noticed.

And he’d be right. It’s pathetic.

But Isagi’s always been pathetic, and people were fine with that.

Rin, though — Rin’s silence has weight. Like he’s constantly saying without words: don’t try to figure me out.

And maybe that’s exactly why Isagi keeps trying. It’s a challenge, a puzzle. It reminds him of when he first learned to fit in instead of being himself — and how that became addictive. Even if he hates that habit now, trying to reach Rin feels just as impossible as trying to fit among people who were born to shine.

Isagi thinks Rin is special — he is a mermaid, after all.

He’s always been surrounded by special people who got what they wanted effortlessly, who were loved and seen without trying.

In other words, people who were geniuses just by existing. And somehow, Isagi managed to reach them — but he still can’t reach Rin.

Probably because Rin isn’t human, he thinks.

So when Isagi sees Rin outside the bathroom again for the first time, he immediately goes to talk to him.

Rin is sitting on one of the kitchen stools, god knows since when, head resting on his arms. It’s late, and Isagi had gone to grab the leftover cake when he noticed Rin there — silent, staring with intense focus at absolutely nothing.

Because the 'nothing'  in question… is a spider.

A tiny spider, walking heroically across the counter.

Isagi stops at the door, blinks a few times to make sure he’s not dreaming. “...Are you watching a spider?”

“Yes.” Rin replies without turning his head. Not even startled by Isagi’s presence.

Isagi rubs a hand over his face, half-laughing. “Okay. Just to clarify — you, a magical ancient sea creature, are watching a domestic spider climb tile.”

“It fell three times.” Rin says, with the seriousness of someone narrating a BBC documentary.

“Okay… and now?”

“It’s climbing again.”

Isagi pulls up a chair, leaning on the counter. “So it’s stubborn.”

“Is that what you call determination?”

“That, or stupidity. Depends on the outcome.”

At least Rin asked a question — small victories.

Rin glances at him sideways, as if deciding whether that was a joke or a confession. “You’re like it.”

“What.”

Silence. A good kind of silence, actually — light, fragile, like the world turned the volume down. Rin doesn’t repeat it, obviously.

Isagi spends long minutes trying to decode what that meant. Rin is both direct and impossibly cryptic, and it fries his brain.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Isagi asks, trying to sound casual.

“None of your business.”

“So that means since me and Hiori went to bed?”

“I went to the window once.”

“Wow. Radical.”

Rin gives him a tiny side-eye, which might be the aquatic equivalent of an eye roll.

Isagi tries another approach. “It’s kinda weird seeing you out here. I thought you’d gone feral and moved into the bathroom permanently.”

“Are you watching me?”

“No! I mean— maybe a little. For safety reasons.”

“Safety?” Rin scoffs.

“Yeah. I got worried when I didn’t hear water since yesterday. Thought you’d e

“Evaporated?”

“You know. Like a sad puddle.”

Rin looks at him for a long moment — long enough for it to feel like judgment — then turns back to the spider. The little thing is almost at the top of the tile now, climbing heroically again.

“Hey.” Isagi says, voice quieter. “About these days… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Rin doesn’t answer. Just watches the spider fall again.

And that’s what confuses Isagi — Rin never answers. At best, he glares and ignores him. He could just say go away and Isagi would take it. But he never does. It’s always silence. And Isagi’s hated silence ever since he started living alone.

Isagi rests his head on the counter the same way Rin does. From afar, they’d look like two people staring at each other — but really, both are watching the spider crawl. Well, Rin is. Isagi’s just pretending.

The only thing he can really focus on is Rin. The spider is just background blur. Rin’s right there, close enough to touch, and still feels unreachable.

“Do you want me to stop?” Isagi finally says, breaking the silence.

Rin shifts his gaze from the spider to him, waiting for him to continue. He blinks once — and Isagi suddenly becomes hyper-aware of his eyelashes. He wonders how many Rin has.

"Do you want me to stop trying to talk to you?" Isagi starts again. One, two, three.

Rin doesn’t answer immediately. “Why do you keep trying?” The spider stops in front of Isagi’s hand.

"I think I just want to make you comfortable." Isagi knows it's a lie. Four, five.

“If that were true, you’d stop talking.”

Five lashes. Rin has five lashes.

Isagi’s eyes drop, looking a bit sad. He glances at the spider instead. “I think… if I try hard enough — no, if I bother you enough — you’ll talk to me.”

The silence cracks open. Isagi can feel the faint breeze shifting through the kitchen, nudging the spider forward. It tries to climb past his hand.

Isagi tries to swallow his own confession. He needs water. Now that he realizes he actually said it, it tastes bitter in his mouth. Everything tastes bitter. It's bitter that he gets drunker than sober when something feels wrong. It's bitter that he acts like he's in control. It's bitter that he can't adapt to Rin. It's bitter that Rin doesn't—

“Stop.”

Isagi looks at him. “Hm?”

“Stop talking to me.” Rin says again. Louder this time.

Isagi holds his breath. It's sour, the bitter has soured. This moment, now, he and Rin lying on the counter, is sour. Talking to Rin now is sour. Rin is sour.

“I… I won’t.” Isagi says finally. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care.”

And Isagi knows what that means — not ‘I don’t care if you talk to me’, but ‘talk or don’t, it makes no difference.’

Strangely, that makes it easier to breathe.

He stands up and goes to the fridge, grabbing the cake — the original reason he came to the kitchen. “You want a slice?”

Rin sighs, lifting his head off his arms.

“Okay.” Isagi sets the plate on the counter where he’d been resting, cuts it in half, and pushes one slice toward Rin.

“You’ve never had cake before, huh?”

“No.”

“Cool.” Isagi starts eating.

Rin doesn’t. He just looks at the plate, then at Isagi, then at the wall beside the counter.

Isagi follows his gaze — the spider’s back on its climb, trying again to reach the cabinet above.

“It’s sour.” Rin says suddenly.

“What?”

“The cake.” Rin finally has the fork in hand, a small piece of cake impaled on it, staring at it like it personally offended him.

"Yeah." Isagi says. It’s all he can manage.

“What. The hell. Are you doing here?”
was the first thing Barou said when he saw Isagi.

“I need your advice.” Isagi replied, throwing himself onto the high stool in front of the counter with all the dignity of someone who clearly isn’t welcome. “Or maybe a slap in the face. Either one might work.”

Barou looked him up and down, snorted, and went back to wiping the counter with the same rag he’d almost used to strangle Isagi multiple times. “Spare me. I’ve got work to do. Go bother your little friends.”

“You are my friend,” Isagi pointed out. “Or at least you were, before you traded our friendship for a cleaning rag.”

Barou scoffed, focusing hard on a stain that refused to come off. “Are you deaf? I said I’ve got work to do. I’m not wasting my time giving advice to a lame-ass like you.”

Isagi sighed, glancing around the café—or diner, he’s not even sure what it is since they serve everything here. Funny how Barou works in a place aesthetically drenched in pink. The irony feels almost spiritual.

“You work in a pink temple and talk like the Antichrist.”

“I pay my bills. You should try that.”

“There’s a new guy living with me and Hiori.” Isagi began, elbows on the counter.

“I didn’t ask.”

“I met him drunk and ended up inviting him to live with me.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“And he’s… cold. Like, if he were a dessert, he’d be that ice cream that breaks your spoon.”

“I still didn’t ask.”

“So I—”

Barou slammed his hand on the counter, loud enough for nearby customers to glance over. He glared at Isagi before saying:

“Sir, if you’re not ordering anything, please leave.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know me.” Isagi huffed, digging in his pocket. “Even your boss knows we’re friends. Oh, and I’ll have a regular milkshake, please.”

He slapped the money on the counter. Barou, not-so-gently, grabbed it and tossed it into the register. “We’re not friends.”

“So, as I was saying—” Isagi ignored him, spinning on the stool. “I tried getting closer to him, thought he was like a dog that only barks and doesn’t bite—like you. But I think he doesn’t even see me as a threat, so he doesn’t bark at all.”

Barou turned his back, preparing the milkshake. “You’re comparing some random guy to a dog?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“It’s stupidity.”

“Barou, have you ever heard of emotional subtlety?”

“Yes. I’ve just never seen you use it.”

Isagi let out a dramatic sigh, loud enough to annoy the nearest customers.

“Okay, but listen. He’s different. You know when someone’s so calm they make you nervous by osmosis? Like… you feel like you’re doing something wrong just by existing?” His chair stopped spinning, his tone suddenly serious.

Barou turned to look at him, the kind of stare that said: I regret being born on the same planet as you.

“That’s called a conscience.”

“No, Barou, I swear! He just looks at me that way—like he’s judging every molecule of my being. And the worst part is, he’s right.”

“You wanna be friends with a guy who blatantly ignores you?” Barou said with disgust, still facing away and shaking something behind the counter.

“I have a natural talent for collecting friends who hate me.” Isagi said proudly. “But I don’t think he hates me, like, not in the fun way—he doesn’t love or hate me. Also, I think he’s running from something. Or someone. Or me. Maybe me.”

“I wonder why.”

“Barou, I’m being serious.”

“And I’m trying not to hit you.”

Isagi ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “He’s weird—but in a good way. Like, yesterday I found him staring at a spider for an hour.”

“Great. A freak like you.”

“So I stared with him. The thing is, unlike the other times, he actually talked to me.” Isagi said, waving his hands for emphasis. “Like? Every other time I talked to him, he’d only say two words. But this time he just?… kept going.”

Barou gave a dry, joyless laugh. The kind that sounds like watching an idiot trip over the same rock for the fourth time. “You’re simply stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever thought the problem is that you’re trying too hard?”

Isagi blinked, confused. “What? I’m just trying to be nice!”

Barou suddenly turned, face deadly serious. “Isagi, you are the most annoying person I know. Maybe if you shut the hell up for one second, he’d warm up to you more.” He leaned over the counter, poking Isagi in the chest. Which, for the record, Isagi’s already used to.

Then Barou put a ridiculously decorated milkshake in front of him, something that looked like a unicorn had vomited it into existence. Isagi took it and sipped sadly through the straw.

“So you’re saying I need to try not to try too hard?” he asked, looking at him like an abandoned puppy.

“Technically.” Barou snatched his rag back and slapped Isagi’s arm to move it out of the way. “And don’t talk while you’re sucking that thing, it’s disgusting.”

“Okay. So how do I not try too hard?”

Barou let out the loudest sigh Isagi had ever heard. “Just let things happen naturally, for fuck’s sake. If you’re meant to talk, you’ll fucking talk! Stop being so damn impatient.”

Isagi took a long sip of his milkshake. “You’re a great friend.”

Barou dropped the rag, crossed his arms, and stared at Isagi like someone watching a car crash in slow motion. “You need professional help.”

“I am asking for professional help! You work in a place with uniforms and everything.”

“This is a diner, dumbass. Not a clinic.”

“It’s almost the same thing, there’s a service counter.”

“Jesus.” Barou massaged his temples. “Finish that crap and get the hell out. And don’t come back if it’s to talk about your boy problems.”

“What? I’m not trying to get him!” Isagi protested, pulling the straw from his mouth. “He’s attractive. I mean, I can tell when someone’s attractive. But I’m not trying to get him! I just wanna talk.”

Barou put his hands on his hips like a disapproving mom. “You totally wanna get him.” He looked at Isagi in disbelief, then grimaced. “That’s disgusting. Please leave my sight.”

After one last sip of the milkshake, Isagi muttered.“I wouldn’t hook up with a–” He cut himself off before he could spill the part about his new roommate being a merman. “–person… like that.”

“I don’t care who you’d hook up or not hook up with. But Isagi fucking Yoichi has always had shitty taste.” Barou opened the counter gate and headed for the staff door. Naturally, Isagi followed him.

“Don’t follow me. Fuck.” Barou grabbed his keys.

“I’ve been in there plenty of times.”

“And every single one still violates the rules. But that’s not the point. I just don’t want you near me.” He finally opened the door, stepping inside and hanging his keys on a hook that definitely wasn’t installed by the cafe owner — Barou’s obsessive organization at work.

Isagi ignored that and closed the door behind him. “Since we’re on the topic of me, I think it’s important to say something.”

“Please don’t.” Barou moved toward the locker area, grabbing some clothes and disappearing behind a divider—probably bought by Barou himself, too.

“I’ve decided to stay sober permanently this time.” Isagi confessed, sitting on a nearby chair.

“Once again, I don’t care,” Barou said from behind the divider.

“At least pretend to motivate me!” Isagi watched a perfectly folded apron being tossed over the divider, landing on the next chair. “I think bringing a guy home while drunk was my limit.”

“That’s not even the worst thing you’ve done.” The top half of Barou’s pink uniform was thrown over too.

“That’s because you don’t know all the details.” Isagi muttered.

“And I don’t care to.”

“Thank God!” Isagi let out a helicopter-level sigh, loud enough for Barou to hear. “That’s why you’re the best person to vent to.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does. You not caring makes it easier. Plus, your advice helps.” Isagi propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand.

“I only say stuff to get your dumb ass out of my way.” Barou stepped out from behind the divider—now out of uniform, wearing clothes way too nice for just going home.

Isagi gave him a once-over. “Uhhh? the king’s got a date?”

“None of your business.” Barou grabbed his folded uniform and shoved it in his bag.

“Unlike you, I care about who you’re seeing!” Isagi stood up. “Tell me, who is it?”

Barou grabbed him by the arm. “I said—” with his free hand, he opened the door and dragged Isagi out. “—none of your damn business!” he said before slamming the door shut.

Isagi stood there for two seconds, staring at the door, before saying: “Try not to scare them off!” 

Then he bolted out of the cafe before Barou could come after him to beat him up.

When Isagi gets back from practice, the first thing he sees is Rin, sitting on the couch with his knees pulled up, eyes fixed on the TV.

The sound coming from the TV is loud, almost violent. He doesn’t remember downloading anything like that — most of what he watches is rated for small children. And Hiori would only watch something that bloody if girls were dying in it.

Isagi kicks off his shoes and drops them in the rack by the door, then tosses his keys on the table and walks toward the couch to see what Rin’s watching.

Unfortunately, the moment Isagi looks at the screen, someone’s brutally murdered. It’s very graphic. Way too graphic.

He frowns, startled, turning his head toward Rin — who looks completely unfazed by the carnage.

“Hi.” Isagi says, waving halfheartedly.

“Hi.” Rin replies robotically, not even glancing his way.

Isagi crosses the living room and drops his sports bag on the armchair — the ridiculous one Otoya gave Hiori as a housewarming gift during what Bachira had dubbed the ‘new house reveal party for the Hiosagi’. It had felt like one of those gender reveal parties, just without the baby part. They only kept the chair because, when they first moved in, the living room looked too empty. Years later, they still couldn’t bother to get rid of it.

Isagi sits at the far end of the couch, Rin right in the middle — motionless, still as a painting. He should probably go shower now while the bathroom’s free, but ever since the spider incident, Isagi feels a moral duty to stay near Rin whenever he comes out of there.

Another horrifying scene flashes across the screen.

Rin looks very entertained. His expression doesn’t even twitch. Meanwhile, Isagi nearly loses his soul.

“...You found the TV.” Isagi mutters, careful not to talk over the movie. “You like watching stuff like this?”

He’s trying, okay? Maybe Rin will say, ‘I clicked something by accident, don’t know how to change it.’ and then they could switch to something lighter. Isagi could be a good person and teach him how remotes work.

But his hopes die the second Rin opens his mouth.

“I like how this magical human device can show images with a single touch.”

Right. Of course Rin would say that. He learns everything so quickly it’s borderline freaky — and on top of that, he seems to enjoy disturbing things.

"It’s not magic. It’s just technology.” Isagi corrects him.

“Technology is magic but logical.” Rin refutes smoothly.

Wow. Almost poetic. Even when he’s smart, Rin somehow manages to sound like he’s just arguing for the sake of it.

It’s kind of funny, how Rin can say all these clever things and still be totally clueless about anything emotional. Isagi suspects Rin’s just ignorant about that sort of thing — he doesn’t seem to understand when Isagi says ‘us’ or anything remotely sentimental.

Isagi gets that. He’s emotionally ignorant too.

When he was little, his mom used to tell him that there was a kind of bond so strong you’d become two hearts beating as one — and that one day he’d find his special person. Isagi wanted that. But after all these years, he’s never felt any kind of real connection with anyone. Unless you count the vibration of his phone whenever Bachira sends him cursed memes.

He’d had a girlfriend once, before graduation. The only thing they ever did was make out on his bedroom floor. It always felt weird — how every conversation somehow ended there — but he thought that was just what couples did, so he went along with it.

All that time, Isagi adapted to her, let her shape him, thinking that was connection.

Then one day, she dumped him, and he realized he’d just been her puppet.

He was sad, of course. Mostly because everyone expected him to be. The only real sadness he felt was from neglecting himself again.

So he just decided to stay ignorant about that kind of thing. It’s not essential for living, right? He plays the cool guy now, but he’s not expecting to connect with anyone.

That’s what makes him and Rin a perfect duo: Rin doesn’t care to learn about feelings, and Isagi doesn’t care to have them.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. Maybe, like Hiori says, Rin’s culture doesn’t even have things on that level of emotion.

Isagi figures he should stop thinking about Rin like this when Rin’s literally right next to him. He has no idea if merfolk can read minds, and he prays they can’t.

He decides to focus on the movie instead. On-screen, some guy is running for his life — and weirdly, he looks just like Isagi.

Black hair, blue eyes that look like twin boba pearls. If he weren’t taller, wearing glasses, and missing that slight blue tint to his hair, they’d look identical.

“Look, that guy looks like me!” Isagi points at the TV.

Rin glances at him, then at the screen, then back at him. Four seconds pass before he says flatly: “Funny how he’s still alive.”

Isagi’s offended. Not because he is the guy on screen, but because — rude.

He shrugs. “He looks fine to me.”

The moment he says that, the guy runs face-first into a branch and collapses in the middle of the forest.

“I see.” Rin says.

“Anyone can hit a branch while running from a killer! That’s like— that’s a movie cliche!” Isagi throws his arms at the TV, glaring.

“I didn’t say anything. You’re acting like I insulted you.” Rin stretches a leg out, foot touching the floor.

Isagi’s eyes follow the movement instinctively. He’s still amazed at how Rin managed to make such perfect-looking legs. He’s only seen them a few times and— good god. It’s like Rin had them all his life. He barely even uses them, always choosing his tail in the bathtub, only leaving it occasionally. And when he does, he walks normally. Which is weird.

Isagi figures it should be harder to grow legs, but what does he know about merfolk anatomy? Maybe Mom knows, he thinks absently. But Rin’s still strange.

He’s literal, humorless, does things even magic can’t explain, enjoys violence, and either speaks without any filter or goes full philosopher. Isagi had noticed these traits before, but now that they spend so much time together, it’s impossible not to.

He catches himself staring again. His gaze always gravitates to Rin — magnetically — and that’s totally normal, right? It’s normal to find a magical creature fascinating. Rin looks so content watching the screen.

Another disturbing scene rolls by, snapping Isagi’s thoughts clean in half. Some character jumps in front of a fatal blow to save another, but the gore is so extreme it kills the mood completely.

Isagi sinks deeper into the couch, exhaustion from practice finally catching up.

“Are you even old enough to watch this?” he asks — it’s the first thing that pops into his head.

“In human terms, yes.”

Isagi blinks. “What does that mean? Are you, like… 300?”

“Not your business.” Rin says automatically.

“God forbid I try to know more about my new roommate.” Isagi sighs. “At least tell me directly how old you are.”

Rin exhales long and slow, eyes drifting from the screen to the floor like he’s weighing his options. “…I’m a year younger than you.”

Isagi freezes.

“Wait— seriously?” He leans forward, bracing his hands on his knee. “Hold on, you know how old I am?”

“You told me the night you brought me here.” Rin sounds mildly annoyed.

“Yeah, right, I said a lot of things that night.” Isagi coughs, then brightens again. “That means you have to respect me! I’m your senior.”

“Shut up.”

“All I hear is: ‘Okay, sorry, Yocchan. I’ll respect you now that you’re older and wiser.’” Isagi does a terrible Rin impression.

Rin turns to him for the first time that night. “Yoc-chan?” He says the syllables slowly.

“Oh, Rin-chan doesn’t have to be shy about nicknames!” Isagi blinks dramatically. “Now that I’m technically responsible for you, we’re close enough for that.”

“You can’t even take responsibility for your own life. And drop the Rin-chan.”

Isagi laughs — a real one, until it turns bitter. “Then you prefer Rin-kun?”

“I prefer you shut up.” Rin turns back to the TV.

“As your older roommate, I can’t approve of you watching this kind of stuff.” Isagi declares proudly. “I thought merpeople watched Barbie in A Mermaid Tale or something.”

“I watched that kind of thing all the time before I got here.”

Isagi blinks, shrinking a little. “What do you mean, before you got he—”

“Look.” Rin points at the TV again. “The script of this thing is lukewarm. The dumb guy with glasses will only survive because the girl with bangs will push him toward the exit.”

Isagi stares at the screen — and, sure enough, that’s exactly what happens in the last few minutes. He looks back at Rin, who now seems bored, as if the movie became too predictable.

“…That was disturbingly specific. You’re like the Nostradamus of cliches.”

Silence again. Isagi’s starting to get used to it.

“I prefer psychological horror.” Rin finally says, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off. Isagi just stares — when did he even learn to use that thing?

“You are psychological horror.” Isagi mutters with a weak laugh.

Rin stands and turns toward the hallway.

“Where are you going?”

“The images are over. I’m going to the bathroom.” He turns slightly, and now, towering over Isagi, he looks oddly intimidating.

Ah, right. They’re still worlds apart. All these days, all this domestic weirdness — and Isagi still hasn’t gotten what he wants.

“W-we could, uh, I mean, you and I could watch more stuff later,” he says, scratching his neck. “Psychological horror images.”

Rin stares at him for a long moment — one Isagi’s definitely not counting. He glances at the lobster-shaped clock Bachira gave him. Eleven ten p.m., which actually means 2:10, since it’s been two hours behind ever since they unboxed it and never fixed it.

He looks back at Rin, who’s still staring. Isagi can’t read his expression, but he’s not scared. He should be, but he isn’t. These past weeks made it clear that Rin can be many things, but scary isn’t one of them.

“What are you doing?” Rin cuts through the silence. The ticking clock fills the air.

“Huh?” Isagi parrots. Rin won’t repeat, but he still tries. “You don’t have to spend all that time in the bathroom, you know.”

“I need to feed.”

“You mean… that energy thing?” Rin nods. “You’ve done it in front of me once, I won’t freak out.”

Rin stares at him a few seconds longer.

“Good night, Isagi.”

He leaves, and the soft click of the bathroom door echoes after him.

Isagi stays frozen on the couch, processing what Rin just said.

He falls asleep there that night.

“Did you know Rin knows how to use the TV?” Isagi says the next morning, pouring tea into his soccer-ball-shaped mug — which, at this point, should honestly be banned by law for overuse.

Hiori looks up from his phone. “Hm?” He chews his cereal lazily.

“Last night.” Isagi pauses dramatically to sip his tea. “When I got back from practice, Rin was watching TV in the living room.”

Hiori keeps chewing. He stares at Isagi while absent-mindedly stirring the cereal in his bowl, phone still in his free hand. Then he says, completely unfazed,

“Oh, right. He usually watches horror movies when you’re gone.” Hiori goes back to scrolling on his phone.

“When I’m gone?” Isagi raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “I’ve never seen him do that when you’re the one who leaves.”

Hiori shrugs. “He only does it when you leave.” He says this while typing something, not even looking up.

Seriously? How does he talk and text at the same time?

“Why wouldn’t he do it when I’m here?” Isagi takes another sip of tea. “Why does he only leave the bathroom when I’m not around?”

“Maybe he doesn’t need to.” Hiori replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You circle him like a vulture anyway. Yoichi Isagi and his thing for fresh meat — it’s free entertainment.”

Isagi chokes on his tea. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

The microwave dings, choosing the most humiliating moment possible to join the conversation.

“And what do you mean by maybe he doesn’t—”

“Why did you sleep on the couch?” Hiori cuts him off, setting his phone down beside him screen-first.

Why does everyone keep cutting me off mid-sentence lately?

“I— uh. I kind of, uh—” Isagi’s brain crashes.

“Did Mom and Dad fight?” Hiori says casually, drinking the milk straight from his bowl.

“Of course not! I watched the end of the movie with Rin and got too lazy to move to my room.” Isagi starts wandering around the kitchen, looking for a clean plate in the cupboards. Hiori watches him over the rim of the bowl. “But seriously. What do you mean, he doesn’t need to leave when I’m home?”

“There’s your answer right there.” Hiori lowers the bowl and points his spoon at him like he’s revealing some great truth. “You’re always around him. Why would he need to?”

Kaiser : oi 

Yoichi

I’ll be visiting soon.

Not a request. Just a warning

Stop ignoring me, I know ur reading this

Isagi : wtf

what are u doing at my house again??

Kaiser : relax dude it’s just a visit

I wanna see what you’re up to

Being a good brother here

Isagi : stop calling yourself that

if u were my brother I’d throw myself into the nearest blender

youre a leech say what you actually want

Kaiser : first of all, I’d love to see that

And second

I got sooooo many ugly sponsorship gifts, so I’m giving them to you

Isagi : GET OUT I’M NOT YOUR TRASH BIN FOR UNWANTED STUFF

Kaiser: yes u are

Isagi: wait

that’s a lie SAY WHAT U REALLY WANT.

Kaiser: uhh… your apartment looks too normal

And that’s not acceptable for Yoichi Isagi

ur hiding something again, aren’t u?

Isagi : what no 😭

completely normal apartment here

Kaiser : sure

Since everything’s so “normal” I’ll be there soon

Just wait

Isagi : DON’T YOU DARE

I’m locking every door

every window

every drain

Kaiser: try not to die of excitement when you see me 💋

Isagi: I’M TELLING NESS

HE’LL EAT YOUR ASS ALIVE

STOP

KAISER

KAISER.

Isagi Yoichi is annoying.

Not in a healthy way—like the kind of confidence that makes you pick up hidden personality traits and think 'huh, interesting.' No. It’s the kind of annoying that makes Rin want to close his eyes and count to a thousand. Maybe a thousand and one. Every exaggerated gesture, every misplaced laugh, every desperate attempt to keep control before inevitably losing it—everything about him conspired to make coexistence exhausting.

And yet, there was something about him that caught Rin’s attention.

He watched him, studied how Yoichi moved, how he talked, how he breathed. Sometimes it felt like a live experiment: 'How can someone be so loud and yet completely unaware of the impact of their own noise?'

Isagi Yoichi tries too hard. Too hard to be noticed, too hard to please, too hard to matter.

And that’s why Rin finds him intriguing. What drives a human to act like that? Even though it didn’t look like it, Rin knew that all of Yoichi’s attempts to please others were genuine.

Rin heard everything. Since he arrived here, he’d been able to hear most things—even from behind the closed bathroom door.

He heard Yoichi tell Hiori that once his whole team laughed when he said he wanted to play as a striker. He heard when Yoichi got a call from a woman who made him uncomfortable, and he still tried his best to please her. He heard when Yoichi got drunk again. He also heard when Yoichi said Rin hated him.

Which, unfortunately, was a lie.

Isagi Yoichi is annoying. Very annoying. But Rin didn’t hate him.

Because if that were true, he wouldn’t be occupying half of Yoichi’s bathroom like it was his own territory. And if someone dared to ask why Rin had decided to live there, he would simply stare in silence, turn on his heel, and head back to the bathroom—asking himself the same question.

The truth was simple—and terribly complicated at the same time.

Rin had never met anyone like Yoichi before. Someone who didn’t flinch in his presence, who wasn’t afraid of the eyes or the tail or the aura that Rin naturally carried. Sure, Yoichi stared, but he never showed fear.

When Yoichi met Rin, he didn’t run, didn’t retreat, didn’t try to protect himself.

He just... talked. Persisted. Kept insisting he would save Rin.

Hell, Rin didn’t even know what the word save meant before meeting Yoichi.

But Rin would be lying if he said he didn’t resent him.

After all, whatever their first meeting was, Yoichi had been drunk.

He doesn’t remember a thing—but Rin does.

Rin sinks deeper into the water until only his eyes and the tips of his knees remain visible.

He wonders if Yoichi would’ve acted the same if he’d been sober. Probably not. He would’ve run, screamed, backed away a little. He wouldn’t have saved him. Wouldn’t have insisted Rin call him 'Yoichi.' Wouldn’t have brought him home.

The fact that Yoichi—no, Isagi—acts as if having Rin in his house was a decision made in full awareness irritates Rin deeply.

But for some reason, Isagi keeps going.

It’s so annoying to watch him try. Annoying every time he checks on Rin during the day. Annoying how talking to him has become so natural.

Isagi Yoichi is annoying. His kindness is annoying.

But Rin certainly doesn’t hate him. He hates the relief that Isagi brings.

In a way, Rin does hate him—but not in every sense of the word. He also tells himself he doesn’t like Isagi. Yes, he’s different. Yes, he made Rin feel different.

But no—Rin doesn’t care about him.

Rin lifts his hand from the water, palm closed, watching the droplets slip through his fingers and fall back into the tub.

He hugs his knees tighter to his chest, staring at the water until sunlight from the window hits his face.

Then he looks at the door. Rin waits for Yoichi to appear and say good morning. That’s his first daily check-up.

Ten minutes pass. Nothing. Rin doesn’t want to seem weird, but if you live with Isagi Yoichi long enough, you start to recognize patterns in his routine.

It’s already too late for Yoichi’s morning noises. The corridor is too quiet. No clattering, no rushed footsteps. Rin stands up, stretching his legs carefully. Having legs is exhausting, honestly.

He steps out of the tub, water dripping across the floor. The clothes he’s wearing—or rather, the clothes he borrowed from Yoichi—are completely soaked. It’s impressive how they fit him so well when Yoichi himself is smaller.

He reaches for the towel Yoichi left for him last night—because the last thing he wants is Yoichi chasing him with a rag, complaining about wet floors.

When he opens the bathroom door, he notices the clothes that Yoichi usually leaves outside aren’t there. The hallway is empty. Yoichi’s bedroom door is wide open, but the space is uninhabited—no signs of someone sleeping there, no sports bag tossed in the corner, nothing but silence.

Rin frowns and heads to the kitchen. Still no sign of Yoichi.

In the living room, Hiori is sitting casually with a laptop on his knees, as if he’s been waiting for something.

“Where’s Isagi?” Rin asks flatly.

“Yo, Rin-kun.” Hiori looks up from the screen. “Ah, he’s gone for the week. Soccer stuff. Didn’t think I needed to tell you personally.”

Rin’s expression doesn’t change. After a few seconds, he says,

“He didn’t tell me?”

Hiori shrugs. “Pretty sure he left you a note on the bathroom door. Said he was late, had to rush.”

Weird. Rin didn’t hear Yoichi moving around that morning.
And Yoichi didn’t bother him before leaving for an entire week.

Not that Rin cares.

“Okay.” Without another word, Rin turns and walks back to the bathroom.

The note is there, taped to the door—plain white paper, messy handwriting, stuck with clear tape. Rin takes it and studies the hurried scrawl, as if Yoichi had been writing mid-sprint.

“Hey Rin!! Tried to talk to you but you didn’t answer, so here’s a note!

Just wanted to say I’ll be gone for a week—coach’s weird ideas...
If you need me, talk to Hiori! But talk loud, his headphones are always blasting.
Left you some clothes in the second drawer of my room’s dresser. Some might be small—running out of bigger ones. Sorry!!

PS: there’s cake and ochazuke in the fridge!

— ISG"

—

Rin eats the cake alone, sitting at the kitchen counter.

Using a fork feels ridiculous to him.

He chews and chews, waiting for the sweetness to come.

“It’s sour again.” Rin mutters to himself.

He keeps eating anyway.

—

It’s been three days—seventy-seven hours, four thousand six hundred and twenty minutes, two hundred and seventy-seven thousand two hundred seconds—since Yoichi left the house.

Not that Rin is counting, obviously.

Turns out, staying in the bathroom for two straight days is more boring than he thought.

He hadn’t used his legs in two days—just his tail, because there was no point otherwise.

The water is warm, his old clothes are long abandoned in the corner. Rin would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the tank he used to stay in.

Hiori is quiet—which Rin considers a virtue. He values silence.

But after living here for so long, the house feels wrong without Yoichi’s noises.

The only sounds now are the water moving with his tail, or Hiori’s keys when he comes and goes.

Sometimes other things, but never that familiar knock on the door followed by that irritating voice.

Rin’s just... used to it. That’s what he tells himself.

He exhales slowly, closes his eyes, and focuses. When he opens them again, his vision glows red—but at least he sees a pair of legs instead of a tail.

He stands up, opens the drain, and watches the water swirl away. Then grabs the navy-blue robe hanging behind the door, tying it loosely around his waist.

The change in temperature hits him as soon as he steps into the hallway.

Who would’ve thought leaving the bathroom could feel like a health hazard.

He walks barefoot, leaving wet footprints behind.

With Hiori out, walking around the house alone reminds him of the times Sae wasn’t around—how he’d wander through that sterile place they used to live.

The difference is that this house doesn’t have metal walls or that hospital smell.

Back then, the walls were smooth—so smooth they reflected his face when he got too close. No windows, only cold white light that never went out. He remembered the hum of the water filter that never stopped—a constant buzz that kept him alert even when he tried to sleep.

Sleep sounds strange to him now. Eventually, it stopped being necessary.

Sae used to say it was the safest place in the world—and that sleeping would only waste their time. Rin doubted that, but never said anything. There wasn’t much to say when you spent your days submerged in water.

Sae spoke little. His silences were different—heavy, slicing the air in half.

Rin used to watch his back as he wrote. He’d press against the glass, eyes glowing with every movement Sae made—precise, methodical, as if everything was calculated.

The floor in Yoichi’s house creaks as Rin takes his next step. The sound is real, organic, irritating, human. And somehow comforting.

He inhales deeply, almost tasting the ghost of metal in his lungs, only for it to fade—replaced by the faint scent of tea from the kitchen.

He hates how easily he can mistake the two places when he’s alone too long.

When he finally reaches Yoichi’s bedroom, he hesitates at the door.

The note had mentioned 'second drawer.' so with all the logic he possesses, Rin decides to follow instructions. Still, that first step into the room feels wrong.

Sae used to say: “Private space means boundaries, Rin. If you understand what a boundary is, don’t cross it.”

And Rin understood—or at least learned not to try.

He steps inside.

The room is small. Posters of a white-haired player and a few bands cover the walls. A pair of cleats sits beside a dirty soccer ball. The pillow is flipped upside down, as if it fought the sheet overnight. There’s a faint smell of soap and something sweet—maybe the same scent that lingers in the bathroom after Yoichi showers.

The room feels childish, yet if you looked closely, you’d swear a young man who thinks too much sleeps here.

Rin walks to the dresser. The second drawer sticks a little. He pulls, the wood creaking loud enough to make him flinch.

Inside are the clothes Yoichi mentioned—simple, neatly folded, a mix of jerseys and soft hoodies.

He picks them up carefully. Before closing the drawer, something catches his eye: a photograph, lying in the corner.

He takes it between his fingers. The edges are worn.

A man and a woman are smiling. The boy between them is unmistakable: his dark blue hair, his huge blue eyes, and the awkward but sincere smile on his face. Yoichi, only smaller, lighter, still without the watery weight on his shoulders that he now carries.

They look happy. If Rin remembers correctly, that’s what a happy family looks like.

Thinking about family gives him a headache.

Having a family mattered where he came from—but not having a place in it didn’t leave good memories.

They also had a woman.

She wore the same kind of expression—too calm, too gentle—but her eyes were empty, as if that kindness had been drawn on her face for observation only.

Rin doesn’t remember her name. He doesn’t remember anyone’s name, really. Only that compassion wasn’t a word used there.

And yet, looking at Yoichi’s mother, he feels something close to... envy.

The kind of envy born from a world where someone can smile like that. Where a child can stand between two adults and not be considered dangerous.

Rin stares at the woman in the photo for too long.

He remembers that face—the expression was different, but the features were the same. Suddenly, breathing feels too hard.

The hum of the water filter comes back for a second. White light. The smell of metal and chlorine. His vision turns red; the room starts to twist.

Rin blinks.

The room returns to normal. The paper is just a photograph again.

He closes the drawer. Holds the folded clothes under one arm and looks at the picture one last time, gripping its edges before placing it on top of the dresser.

The woman is still smiling.

And for some reason, Rin can’t tell if it’s meant for him or for the boy in the photo.

—

Back in the bathroom, he drops his clothes in a corner and fills the tub again.

The sound of water rising is familiar, and for a moment, he feels something close to peace.

But the thought comes too fast — he misses when the house felt comforting. Before he remembered what had happened. Before the silence started to bother him. He misses when the feeling of relief would actually last.

The sound of the water isn’t enough to distract him anymore.

And that’s when Rin realizes what’s really missing — Yoichi.

He frowns, almost embarrassed by his own train of thought.

“…What an idiot.”

Rin sinks deeper into the tub until the water covers his ears — maybe, if the sound disappears completely, that thought will vanish too.

The door slammed against the wall as Isagi stepped inside.

He fumbled with his shoelaces, kicked off his sneakers, and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it straight into the washing machine as he passed by.

A quick glance at the living room — empty. Well. Guess there wouldn’t be any movie night today.

With his bag still hanging off one shoulder, Isagi headed straight down the hall, stopping in front of the bathroom door. The note he’d left earlier was gone.

“Rin?”

Silence.

“I’m coming in.”

He cracked the door open just enough to peek through — then swung it all the way.

Empty. Just a blue bathrobe hanging on the hook and the soft drip of water from the faucet.

No movement. No tail. No Rin.

He glanced back down the hallway — toward the living room, the kitchen. Nothing but dead quiet.

“No, no, no, no.” He rushed through the corridor, kicking his bag halfway across it. “Shit—”

“HIORI!” His voice echoed through the apartment. He rounded the corner, about to throw open Hiori’s door. “HIORI, RIN IS GON—”

He froze.

Hiori’s door was still closed. But his own? Open.

And there was Rin — sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of Isagi’s bed, arms crossed loosely over his knees. His hair was still damp, eyes calm in a way that made Isagi nearly trip over himself.

They stared at each other.

Silence.

And not the good kind of silence. The cinematic, are we in a drama now? kind. The only sounds were Isagi’s unsteady breathing and the faint crackle of his overworked brain.

Isagi finally lets out the breath he's been holding and shouts, half-stifled, without taking his eyes off Rin: "He's here!"

It must have been enough for Hiori to hear, because he doesn't show up.

“Hi.” Isagi ventured, voice low, as if afraid to break the moment. “You okay?”

Rin looked away, offering no reply. Almost like he was embarrassed.

“Okay. Cool. No drama, no pressure,” Isagi said, stepping into the room. “You could’ve, I don’t know, said something. Or maybe, hear me out, used the bed? Beds exist for a reason. But no, let’s sit on the floor, sure, great idea — very ergonomic, love that for you.”

A quiet huff escaped Rin — so soft it could’ve been a breath, but Isagi caught it anyway.

“Hey, no, don’t laugh. I mean, fine, laugh internally, I guess. But seriously, the floor’s cold, and you’re worrying me. Like, if I had any sense of danger, I’d be in full emergency mode right now.”

“You are in emergency mode.” Rin said.

"Huh?"

“You talk more than usual when you’re nervous.”

Isagi blinked. “Ah? I do?” It came out more like a question than a realization. He chuckled weakly.

He lowered himself beside Rin — carefully avoiding a damp patch on the floor — and sat cross-legged, trying to leave a polite amount of space between them.

“Okay, fine. Floor’s great.” he said after a beat. “Could be even better if there were, say, cushions. Or, you know, a carpet. But there aren’t. So here I am, sitting on a cold, probably wet surface, being silently judged by you.”

Rin just stared at him, he rested his chin on his knees, hair dripping in uneven strands that stuck to his cheeks.

With a small groan, Isagi got up to grab a blanket and pillow from the bed. He dropped them next to Rin, who accepted them wordlessly.

“See? Much better.” Isagi said once they’d settled again. “My dad used to do this for me when I was a kid. Though, granted, he was way better at it.”

“Your dad did this for you?” Rin asked, one eyebrow lifting.

“Yeah! I used to be a really scared kid — hypersensitive and all that.” Isagi laughed softly, staring at nothing. “So he’d do this for me and my mom. Mostly on stormy nights.”

“Hm.” Rin made a small sound, the kind that meant he was actually listening. “Rain noises bother me too.”

“Oh, right! You hear really well, don’t you? Must sound way louder to you.” Isagi turned toward him. “You always catch me talking to myself.” He rubbed his cheek, embarrassed.

Rin squinted. “I do.”

“Guess that’s why you’re always telling me to shut up.” Isagi joked. “I’m creating balance here, you know? Someone has to fill the silence.”

Rin didn’t answer this time. Just stared — those turquoise eyes steady and unreadable.

A drop of water slipped from his hair, and Isagi suddenly became acutely aware of everything Rin did — how his hair clung to his skin, how his chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly. Proof that he was breathing, even if barely.

“I heard you.” Rin said finally, breaking the silence. “I heard you saying you thought I was mad because you forgot the day we met.”

Isagi blinked, startled. “You— heard that? Like, all of it?” His cheeks warmed.

“I’m not mad. I don’t care.” Rin replied quickly, eyes dropping to the floor.

Isagi kept looking at him. That’s not right. Why doesn’t he care?

If their roles were reversed, he would’ve avoided himself too. Probably worse.

His gaze softened as the thought settled.

“But I care.” Isagi said quietly, just loud enough for Rin to hear. “I care that I don’t remember.”

Rin didn’t move. It was one of the rare moments where his face actually showed something — something small, fragile.

“I’ll remember.” Isagi murmured. “I don’t care if you don’t care. I’ll remember everything.”

He held out his pinky. “I promise.”

Rin blinked at him, then at the finger. “What you’re doing?”

Isagi sighed. “What kind of things did they even teach you where you used to live?” He leaned closer. “It’s a kid thing. When you make a promise, you hook your pinkies together — it makes it stronger.”

Rin stared for five solid seconds. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Come on, stop being such a downer!”

Rin sighed but linked his pinky with Isagi’s

—

Later that night, Hiori cracked open the door to Isagi’s room.

“Yo, Isagi. You left your bag in the— oh.”

Two figures lay asleep on the floor, tangled in a pile of blankets.

“Oh… well. Goodnight, lovebirds.”

The sound of the doorbell enters the dream first.

Then the brain.

Then the soul—with all the grace of a jackhammer.

Isagi opens his eyes, and for a moment, he genuinely considers ignoring it. Pretending he’s dead. Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried to wake him up early for something pointless.

But the doorbell rings again—long, insistent, and with that special kind of passive-aggressive patience only possessed by people who don’t know when to stop.

“Oh my god.” he mutters, voice groggy,.“can’t I sleep in peace even after saving the country?”

He throws the blanket off, sits up, stretches halfheartedly, and drags himself down the hall. He passes the bathroom and hears the shower running.

He stumbles to the front door—hair a crime scene, pajamas an offense to humanity—and opens it just enough to yell at whoever’s on the other side.

And the universe, which lives for irony, rewards him with none other than Michael Kaiser, smiling with the kind of morning energy that should be illegal.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Isagi shuts the door.

Silence.

Three seconds later, he’s sprinting down the hallway.

“Hiori.”

He hisses, running toward Hiori’s room.

Nothing.

Louder now: “HIORI!”

Hiori appears at the end of the corridor, looking like someone who deeply regrets being conscious.

“What?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“Kaiser’s here.” Isagi whispers.

Hiori blinks. “What?”

“Kaiser. Here. At the door.”

“At six a.m.?” Hiori whispers back, still processing.

“Yes, he sent me a message a few weeks ago saying he was coming, but I didn’t think it would be so soon!” Isagi said, becoming desperate.

Hiori pales. “Hide Rin.”

“And where exactly do you want me to hide him?! This isn’t a mansion! You’re the one who usually has a plan!” Isagi gestures wildly.

Hiori takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Stay calm. Where is he now?”

“Outside. Probably drowning the neighbors in charisma.”

“Great.” Hiori says, already heading toward the bathroom. “You distract him, I’ll—”

“I distract him? Hiori, I am the distraction! He hunts me for sport!”

Before either can finish their half-baked plan, the doorbell rings again. Long. Impatient.

“Okay! I’m coming, Jesus!” Isagi yells toward the door, then turns back to Hiori. “Check on Rin.”

He whispers and heads back down the hall, hearing a faint “I already have a plan” behind him.

Isagi faces the door, takes a deep breath, and opens it.

Kaiser is still there—hands in his pockets, smile perfectly intact, aura radiating the concept of no personal boundaries.

“Ohioooooo, Yoichiii.” he says, deliberately overdoing the accent. “Rude to slam the door in a friend’s face, you know?”

Isagi stares. “First of all, it’s ohayo, not 'ohiooo'. Second—what the hell are you doing here at six in the morning?”

Kaiser tilts his head. “Your brain’s so small you forgot I was coming? I landed in Japan a few hours ago. Ness texted you to pick us up.”

Isagi whips out his phone, unlocks it, reads the unread messages, and waves the screen in Kaiser’s face.

“It was 4:36 a.m.! You know what normal people do at 4 a.m., Kaiser? They SLEEP!”

Kaiser shrugs. “Tsk. You and your retirement-schedule. Anyway—” he peeks inside “—where’s your little cosplayer?”

Isagi chokes. “What? Wh—cosplayer?? Me?? What—hah—???”

Kaiser takes a step forward, and Isagi plants himself in the doorway like a 5’9” human barricade trying to stop a blond hurricane.

“No. You’re not coming in. Go back to whatever rat’s nest you crawled out of.”

“Ouch. Hostile already? Careful, Yoichi. You’ll get wrinkles from all that frowning.”

“God, please, just kill me.”

The second Isagi relaxes a bit, Kaiser pushes past him and walks right in.

Kaiser strolls in like he owns the place, with Isagi trailing behind, visibly panicking. He spots Hiori in the kitchen and beams.

“Hiori! Always a pleasure. Cozy place. Bit messy, maybe—but it fits you guys.” He greets Hiori. Isagi doesn't know how he's already there in the kitchen as if he wasn't trying to hide a merman a minute ago.

Hiori gives a half-smile. “Yo, Kaiser. You could’ve given a heads-up.”

“I did. But Yoichi here’s an incompetent.” Kaiser waves a hand dramatically. “Besides… sooner or later, your little secret’s bound to come out.”

Isagi freezes.

“…hello? Is the secret in the room with us?”

Kaiser gives him that smug, all-knowing grin. “Probably not yet.”

The silence thickens.

Kaiser drops himself onto the couch like he owns it. Crosses his legs. Smiles that smile that always precedes diplomatic disaster.

“So..” he starts. “where’s my exemplary host? What kind of friend leaves an international guest without breakfast?”

“The kind who didn’t know he’d have an international guest at six in the morning,” Isagi says flatly. “Coffee? Water? One-way ticket back to Germany?”

“Ah, defensive humor. Classic sign of someone hiding something,” Kaiser says, resting his chin on his hand like he’s in CSI: Tokyo. “Come on, Yoichi. Tell me. What kind of creature are you hiding in here?”

Hiori, leaning against the counter, fiddles with his phone. “There’s no mystery. We’re just… reorganizing the place.”

“Reorganizing,” Kaiser echoes. “Interesting. Usually people who ‘reorganize’ at six a.m. are hiding bodies.”

“There are no bodies!” Isagi protests, voice cracking slightly. “I mean—the closest thing is a pack of expired chicken, but—”

Kaiser raises a brow. “You’re sweating.”

“THAT’S BECAUSE THE A/C’S BROKEN!"

Hiori sighs. “Kaiser, seriously, why are you here?”

“Because my heart led me here,” Kaiser says with mock sincerity. “And because I got a certain phone call that gave Ness a bad feeling. A feeling, huh,” Kaiser says, looking straight at Isagi. “So tell me, Yoichi… what’s so important that you’re pretending to be normal when you clearly aren’t?”

Isagi opens his mouth.

Anything. He needs anything.

He’ll say he adopted a cat. That he’s testing a new Adidas prototype. That Hiori’s going through a spiritual crisis—whatever works.

“I, uh… I’m just trying to act normal because…” He sighs. “I’m quitting drinking. Like, seriously. Been sober for a while now.”

Kaiser’s expression shifts. Hiori looks worried. And in some way, it’s… not entirely a lie.

Kaiser sighs. “Yoichi, listen. I know you’re not lying—and I’m glad you’re quitting. But whatever you’re keeping here, you have to understand that—”

“Who are you?”

The voice comes from the hallway.

All three of them turn at once.

Rin stands there, leaning casually against the wall, hair a mess, expression perfectly blank. Wearing Isagi’s clothes. A towel draped around his neck like he just stepped out of the shower.

For a second, the silence is so loud you can hear the faint hum of the ceiling light.

Isagi feels his heart drop. He’s certain he’s dead and this is hell.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Kaiser slowly turn toward him with the kind of fake-shocked expression that deserves an Oscar.

“Yoichi!” Kaiser gasps dramatically. “I didn’t know you were bringing men home without Hiori’s permission!”

Isagi’s face burns. Of course he’s referring to Rin wearing his clothes.

“That’s— not—”

“I’m just their new roommate.” Rin cuts in.

Isagi whips his head toward Hiori with an expression that screams: Seriously? That’s your plan?

“Oh, sure.” Kaiser says, standing up slowly. “So that’s what ‘reorganizing’ meant.”

“Yeah! Exactly! New roommate, totally normal, nothing to see here—”

"Yoichi, shut up. I'm talking with the beauty eyelash boy." Kaiser steps closer to Rin. “Stupid Yoichi never told me about you.”

“That’s because I met Hiori first.” Rin replies evenly.

“Hmmm. And why are you wearing Yoichi’s clothes?” Kaiser asks, eyeing him up and down.

“He lent them to me. Mine are in the laundry.”

Kaiser takes one more step forward, leaning in to look Rin dead in the eye. Searching for something.

“Hmm. You must be pretty good at this.” he murmurs. “Okay, right.”

He steps back, turns to Isagi, and smiles.

“Yoichi, get changed. We’re going to have a little talk.”