Chapter Text
It was Abe Haruaki's first time travelling to Miami, out from all his regular troubles, he was spending a relaxing vacation with his twin, Abe Amaaki, who was adamant on joining him.
While making sure, his twin brother, Amaaki was fast asleep in the hotel, he decided to go out and take a stroll over the beach.
When Abe Haruaki was admiring the beautiful night view of the sea, he saw a man swimming in the sea at night, he kept looking at him, and in the blink of an eye he disappears.
Haruaki was shocked when the man suddenly disappeared, he looked down and there were tentacles covering his body, when he turned back it turned out to be, the man who was swimming in the sea earlier, he looked at Haruaki and lifted him up using his tentacles and spoke
"Hm... look what I found here...a human?"
Haruaki was surprised when the mysterious man carried him in the air using his tentacles, he was about to ask who he was but the man interrupted him.
"You're probably curious who I am, aren't you?" the man said while looking directly at Haruaki, still holding him up in the air
The handsome man's tentacles tighten ever so slightly around Haruaki as he brings his face closer, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
"Humans shouldn't wander beaches alone at night... especially not pretty ones like you," he purrs, one tentacle curling around Haruaki's wrist. "The ocean has all sorts of... hungry creatures waiting." His glowing eyes flicker with playful danger as he adds, "Lucky for you, I already ate tonight."
The words send a shiver down Haruaki's spine, the man's playful but predatory tone igniting a strange mix of fear and curiosity within him. He tries to pull away, but the tentacle wrapped around his wrist holds him fast.
"Let me go," he demands, his voice trembling slightly.
The man's smile only widens, amused by Haruaki's defiance. "Oh? So feisty," he taunts, another tentacle sliding up Haruaki's arm. "But where's the fun in that?"
Haruaki's heart pounds in his chest as he struggles against the man's grip. He glances past him towards the hotel, desperately hoping someone will realize he's missing and come looking for him. But the beach is deserted, not a soul in sight to hear his pleas.
His thoughts race, wondering what this creature is planning to do to him. "What do you want with me?" he manages to say, trying to keep his voice steady.
The man chuckles at Haruaki's question, his gaze roaming across his body with obvious appreciation. "What do I want with you?" he hums, a tentacle slowly wrapping around Haruaki's waist. "So many possibilities... you're so pretty, after all."
As he speaks, he leans in even closer, his lips almost brushing against Haruaki's ear. "And you smell so delicious. Like fresh, sweet nectar, just waiting to be tasted."
Haruaki's eyes go wide at the man's words, fear and disbelief warring within him. "Tasted? You're not... you're not going to...?" But before he can finish the question, the man's other tentacle slips under his shirt, cool and slick against his skin.
Haruaki jerks instinctively, trying to free himself, but the man only laughs cruelly. "You're so naive, human," he taunts, his tongue flickering out to taste the air around them. "Don't you know what I am?"
With a cruel smirk, the man's tentacle moves to Haruaki's chin, forcing him to look straight into his glowing eyes. "I'm a sea creature," he says, his voice low and menacing. "And you, dear human, are in my domain now."
The tentacle around Haruaki's waist shifts, bringing him even closer to the man's muscular torso. "And I simply can't resist the chance to play with such a pretty boy."
Haruaki gasps as the tentacles suddenly tighten around him, lifting him completely off the ground. The man's lips curl into a wicked grin as he notices Haruaki's frantic heartbeat. "Oh? Scared already?" he purrs, one tentacle tracing teasing patterns along Haruaki's collarbone.
"You humans are so fragile," he muses, bringing his face dangerously close. "One squeeze and you'd pop like a bubble." His breath ghosts over Haruaki's lips as he adds playfully, "Should I test that theory?" The tentacles pulse slightly, not enough to hurt but just enough to make the threat very, very real.
Haruaki's heart skips a beat as he finds himself suspended in the air, held completely under the man's control. He can feel each individual tentacle coiling around his body, their cool, wet touch sending goosebumps across his skin. The man's proximity is overwhelming, his gaze intense and predatory.
"N-no, don't," he manages to stammer out, his eyes widening in fear. He tries to push back against the tentacles, but their grip is too strong, almost like a living vice trapping him.
Haruaki's cowlick stands in attention as he thinks of an idea, red eyes glowing with certainty, "If you're a Sea creature, then I'm an Exorcist too. So, before doing anything to me. I say, you release me, and we go our own paths peacefully!" His blue pearl bracelet, controlling his power shone in confirmation.
The man's smile falters a fraction as he hears Haruaki's words, his eyes narrowing as he studies the glowing bracelet. He looks skeptical at first, but then a smirk spreads across his face again.
"An exorcist, hm? And a pretty little one at that. How very interesting." One of his tentacles reaches for the bracelet, his touch almost tender as he examines it.
"I've met your kind before," he says, his gaze flicking back up to Haruaki's face. "But I've never seen one as... innocent-looking as you."
The tentacles suddenly constrict tighter around Haruaki's body as the sea creature lets out a dark chuckle. "But do you really think your little trinket scares me?" His glowing eyes burn with amusement as his tentacle strokes along the bracelet mockingly.
"Oh, I'm sure it's powerful..." He leans in closer, lips brushing Haruaki's ear as he whispers, "But not nearly as powerful as me."
The tentacle gripping Haruaki's wrist tightens sharply—CRACK. The bracelet shatters instantly, its glow fading into nothingness as broken pieces scatter across the sand. The sea creature grins viciously, watching Haruaki's realization dawn.
"...Now what was that about going our separate ways?"
Haruaki gasps in shock as the bracelet shatters with a sickening crunch. He can't believe what just happened—that bracelet was his last defense! He struggles even harder against the tentacles, but their grip only tightens in response.
As if sensing his desperation, the man—or creature, rather—lets out a low, amused chuckle. "Looks like you're not so strong without your toy, little exorcist," he muses, clearly enjoying his dominance.
The sea creature's gaze rakes over Haruaki's trembling form, contemplating his next move.
"No Really! What did you do! Now My ancestor will posses my body! They'll kill you!! What did you do!"
As if, believing Haruaki who was slowly losing consciousness, the guy, yawned, flicked his fingers and the bracelet was again one-piece. And Haruaki panicked again, "Oh no! I'm really an idiot! Giving the enemy a solution to stay alive!!"
The sea creature throws his head back and laughs—a deep, rich sound that vibrates through the air. "Oh, this is too good," he muses, one tentacle curling playfully around Haruaki's ankle. "You're adorable when you panic."
He leans in, close enough that Haruaki can feel his breath against his lips. "Tell you what," he purrs, voice dripping with mischief. "Since you entertained me so nicely... I'll let you go."
With a dramatic flick of his wrist, the tentacles loosen—but just as Haruaki starts to slip free, another one slithers up his thigh teasingly. "After one little promise." His grin sharpens. "Come back tomorrow night. Alone. Or..."
The tentacle squeezes—just once—before releasing him entirely. Haruaki stumbles onto the sand, knees wobbling as the creature melts back into the waves with a wink.
"Or I'll come find you myself."
Haruaki stares wide-eyed at the retreating figure as the waves swallow him whole. His legs feel like jelly, but his mind races—did that really just happen?!
After a few stunned seconds, he scrambles to grab the repaired bracelet off the sand, clutching it tightly. "That...that—monster!" he hisses, though his face burns at the memory of those tentacles coiling around him.
Shaking his head, he turns toward the hotel—only to freeze.
Ame.
If his twin finds out he wandered off and got attacked by some tentacle-wielding weirdo, he’ll never hear the end of it.
Haruaki gulps, hastily smoothing his rumpled clothes. "...Maybe I'll just...not mention this."
Meanwhile, beneath the waves, glowing eyes watch the shore, already counting the hours until nightfall.
Haruaki tossed and turned on the hotel bed long after he had returned from the beach.
The air-conditioning hummed softly.
Amaaki snored peacefully beside him, hugging his shark pillow like nothing in the world was wrong.
But Haruaki’s heartbeat… refused to calm.
He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, fingers brushing against his wrist—where the creature’s tentacle had curled. Even now, he could feel phantom impressions lingering like the marks left by a tide that had already retreated.
“Why am I thinking about this…?” he whispered, cheeks warming.
He covered his face with both hands, but it didn’t help.
The memory hit him again.
The Way He’d Been Held
The creature’s tentacles had not just grabbed him; they had handled him.
Moved him.
Lifted him smoothly, effortlessly, as though Haruaki weighed no more than ocean foam.
There had been a strange gentleness under the danger—a calculated, predatory elegance.
He remembered the way one tentacle had wrapped around his wrist, cold and slick but not painful.
How another had circled his waist, guiding him closer to the creature’s chest.
How each movement had been deliberate, confident, as though the creature already knew exactly how Haruaki would react before he even reacted.
The ocean’s touch still clung to his skin like leftover moonlight.
Haruaki squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated.
“Why am I remembering this?! I should be terrified! He almost killed me!”
But his body disagreed—shivering not from fear but from something warmer, subtler.
Something he absolutely did not want to acknowledge.
His face burned hot.
“Oh no,” he whispered into his pillow. “Oh no, no, no—this is bad.”
Because what terrified him wasn’t the creature’s strength or the danger or the power.
It was the way his body had reacted.
How his breath hitched when the tentacles lifted him.
How his heart raced when the creature leaned close.
How his skin tingled when those glowing eyes pinned him in place.
A shiver ran down his spine—unwelcome, but undeniably real.
“…Why did it feel like that?” he choked softly.
He didn’t have a name for it.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Something entangled between them—like standing too close to a storm and feeling the first drop of rain hit your cheek.
The Creature’s Voice
Haruaki could still hear it.
Low. Smooth. Dangerous.
A voice that didn’t speak so much as curl around him.
“You smell delicious.”
His ears burned remembering that line.
“W-why would he even say that?!” Haruaki hissed into the dark, rolling onto his stomach.
But even the memory of the words made his stomach twist in ways he didn’t understand.
There had been a moment—maybe only a second—when the creature’s face had drifted close to his ear. Close enough that Haruaki felt the brush of breath across his skin.
He remembered the sensation with frightening clarity.
It was cold like seawater.
Warm like a human.
And electric like lightning.
A contradiction that shouldn’t have existed… yet it did.
“That shouldn’t—shouldn’t make me… feel anything,” Haruaki muttered, burying his face in the pillow again.
But the truth was, the creature’s voice echoed through him like waves slamming against the shore—inevitable, rhythmic, impossible to ignore.
Haruaki clutched his blanket tighter.
His skin tingled everywhere the tentacles had touched, wrapping around him, lifting him, teasing at his collarbone.
He remembered the pulse of them—alive, warm under the cold surface.
“Stop remembering… stop remembering…” he whispered desperately.
But memory was merciless.
He remembered the moment the tentacle slid beneath his shirt, brushing his ribs.
A touch that had felt—
Startling.
Cool.
Too intimate for a stranger.
Too deliberate for an accident.
And the worst part?
His body had reacted before his brain could process anything.
He’d jerked, gasped, his pulse exploding with a sensation he’d never felt before—a trembling mix of shock, heat, and something dangerously close to…
Haruaki buried his burning face into the blankets.
“I can’t believe this is happening to me. Why did it have to be a sea creature—?! Why not a normal guy or—or a ghost or something?!”
But deep inside, a quieter voice whispered:
It wouldn’t have felt like this with a normal guy.
He squeezed the blanket harder.
The creature’s presence had been overwhelming—like a tide swallowing him whole.
He was terrifying… but breathtakingly beautiful.
Predatory… but strangely gentle.
Cruel… yet playfully amused by Haruaki in a way no one had ever been before.
Haruaki felt that contradiction tugging at him from every direction.
The Promise That Won’t Leave His Mind
“Come back tomorrow night.”
The words replayed in Haruaki’s mind again and again.
His stomach twisted every time he heard them in memory.
His mouth went dry.
Would he go?
…No.
He shouldn’t.
He absolutely, definitely shouldn’t.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling again.
“…But what if he really does come find me?” he whispered, anxiety curling tight in his chest.
What if he came through the window?
What if Amaaki saw him?
What if the School principal knew him?
What if—
His heart fluttered painfully.
What if he didn’t wait?
What if he was already watching?
The thought made Haruaki sit up abruptly, clutching the blanket.
His red eyes darted to the balcony door.
Moonlight spilled in.
A shadow moved across the waves far below.
Haruaki’s breath caught.
“…He wouldn’t,” he whispered breathlessly to himself.
“…Would he?”
But the memory of glowing eyes beneath dark water said otherwise.
And somewhere deep in the ocean, a creature with tentacles and a wicked smile waited…
Counting every second until tomorrow night.
Haruaki didn’t sleep.
Not even a minute.
By dawn, his eyes burned, his face was flushed, and his heartbeat had not slowed since the moment he saw glowing eyes vanish beneath the waves.
He lay there stiffly, staring at the white ceiling of the Miami hotel room while Ame snored softly beside him, blissfully unaware that Haruaki had been mentally suffering a whole opera’s worth of confusion, panic, and… other feelings.
Light finally seeped through the curtains—warm Florida gold.
And with it came a soft voice beside him.
“…Haru?”
Haruaki jumped like he was caught doing something illegal.
“A-Ame!” he stuttered, throwing the blanket over half his face. “You’re awake!”
Amaaki blinked sleepily, hair sticking up in every direction, eyes narrowed in instant twin-suspicion.
“You look terrible.”
Haruaki flinched.
“W-Wh—that’s rude!!”
Amaaki sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Did you sleep at all?”
“…yes,” Haruaki lied.
Amaaki raised a brow. “Really? Because you look like someone dragged you out of the ocean and beat you with kelp.”
Haruaki choked on air.
“WHY THE OCEAN?!” he squeaked a little too loudly.
Amaaki stared harder.
“…Haru. Did something happen last night?”
Haruaki froze.
His twin wasn’t dumb. He could read Haruaki too easily.
“N-No…? Nothing happened…” Haruaki muttered, eyes darting away.
Amaaki squinted.
“You’re stuttering.”
“I ALWAYS stutter!”
“You’re sweating.”
“IT’S MIAMI!”
“You look like you saw a ghost.”
“…okay maybe I saw something—BUT NOT A GHOST.”
“What. Did. You. See.”
Haruaki’s soul left his body.
“I… saw a crab.”
Amaaki groaned. “Haru, please. You look like you haven’t slept because a crab traumatized you? Really?”
Haruaki shrank under the blanket like a guilty shrimp.
Ame crawled closer, suddenly serious.
“Haru… if someone bothered you, you need to tell me.”
Haruaki’s heart clenched. His brother’s concern was warm, grounding.
It made him want to spill everything—
The tentacles.
The glowing eyes.
The voice.
The way being held had made him—
NO.
Absolutely not.
He would die on the spot if Amaaki heard any of that.
“Nobody bothered me,” Haruaki whispered, cheeks heating. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”
Amaaki sighed, patting Haruaki’s head gently. “Okay… but don’t wander alone again, alright?”
Haruaki nodded quickly.
“Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. Never again.”
(Lie.)
Later That Morning
Amaaki insisted they walk to get breakfast. Haruaki followed obediently, sunglasses covering his puffy eyes, hair sticking out in flustered embarrassment.
But when they reached the boardwalk, Haruaki froze.
Because he felt it.
A gaze.
Deep.
Pulling.
Like a tide hooking into the threads of his soul.
His breath hitched.
Amaaki turned. “What’s wrong?”
“N-Nothing,” Haruaki squeaked.
But his eyes drifted—against his will—toward the ocean.
Past the bright sand.
Past the sparkling surface.
To a darker patch in the water.
Something moved beneath.
A ripple.
A shadow.
A presence.
And then—
Glowing blue-green eyes surfaced for just one heartbeat.
Haruaki slapped a hand over his mouth to silence the sound he almost made.
His entire body jolted.
Ame will see—he’ll notice—don’t look, don’t look, DON’T LOOK—
But he looked.
Because the creature was watching him.
Watching him like last night’s promise had never ended.
Haruaki’s pulse roared in his ears.
“He’s here…” he whispered under his breath, barely audible.
“What?” Amaaki asked.
Haruaki panicked. “I-I mean—THIS PLACE IS SO PRETTY!”
Amaaki stared. “Are you okay?”
“Yep! Fine! Totally normal and fine!” Haruaki said, sweating rivers.
He hastily pulled Ame toward the smoothie shop, all while stealing another glance toward the water.
But the glowing eyes were gone.
Only gentle waves rolled in.
A Voice in the Breeze
As they walked, Haruaki pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm the uneven beating.
He’s here… watching… why?
He shouldn’t have felt relief.
Or excitement.
Or… that weird warm fluttering he absolutely refused to name.
But he did.
And as the sea breeze brushed his cheek, he froze again.
Because he swore—swore—
he heard a whisper.
Soft.
Taunting.
Dangerous.
“Pretty human…”
Haruaki nearly tripped on the pavement.
Amaaki grabbed his arm. “Haru—?!”
“N-nothing! Just—uh—air!! Too much air!!”
But he couldn’t stop trembling.
Because that whisper felt like a hand against his spine.
Like breath on his ear.
Like last night’s ocean-touch curling around his senses again.
His cheeks burned.
“This is bad,” he whispered to himself.
But a smile tugged at his lips despite his horror.
This was very bad.
And maybe… just a little… thrilling.
Haruaki sat on the edge of the veranda, legs pulled close, phone in hand. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion; Amaaki had dragged him out for breakfast, lectured him for “looking like a sleep-deprived goldfish,” and then gone out to buy groceries.
Now it was evening — the time Sano allowed him to call.
Haruaki inhaled deeply, thumb hovering over the call button.
“Okay… okay, Haruaki, don’t sound too excited. Sano-kun will hang up if you sound too happy… maybe.”
He pressed call.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
“...What?”
Sano’s dry, flat voice slid into Haruaki’s ear like a cold splash of water.
Haruaki brightened instantly.
“Sano-kun!”
“Don’t shout. My ears work.”
“Ah—sorry,” Haruaki whispered, smiling helplessly. “I just… I’m really happy you picked up.”
“I said one call. One. And only in the evening,” Sano grumbled. “If you start rambling, I’m hanging up.”
“I won’t ramble!”
“You always ramble.”
Haruaki pouted so hard his lips trembled. “...Not always.”
“Seimei,” Sano said, tone deadpan, “last week you talked for twenty-one minutes about a black dog wearing a sailor uniform you saw on the way home.”
“It was cute!”
“It took me a full hour to understand, it wasn't a real dog, but a keychain!”
“But it was cute…”
Sano sighed. Haruaki could almost hear him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“…Fine,” Sano muttered. “Talk. You have ten minutes.”
Haruaki’s heart lifted.
“Actually, I just wanted to ask if you’re okay. You sounded… off when you cancelled the trip.”
Silence.
Sano exhaled slowly, voice softer now — only by a fraction, but Haruaki noticed it.
“It was urgent. I didn’t cancel for fun.”
“I never thought you did,” Haruaki said quietly.
“…Hmph.”
Haruaki continued, lips curling shyly.
“I really wanted you to come, Sano-kun. Ame and I were excited. And I even… chose a seat next to me on the flight.”
“You what—?”
“And I saved some snacks for you.”
“Seimei—”
“And I thought, this time, you’d finally see how pretty the ocean looks in the morning—”
Sano sharply cut in:
“Are you bragging because you went without me?”
“No!” Haruaki squeaked. “No, never— I just— I wanted you here, Sano-kun. I missed you.”
The line went completely still.
Haruaki’s breath caught.
“…Sano-kun?”
“…Don’t say things like that out of nowhere,” Sano muttered, voice unnatural, stiff, the slightest tremor hiding under it. “You’ll give the wrong idea.”
“What wrong idea…?”
“That I—” He stopped abruptly. “Forget it. Did that Doppel bought food for you?”
Haruaki blinked.
“…You changed the subject.”
“Correct.”
“But Sano-kun—”
“Eat properly.”
Haruaki felt heat rise to his cheeks. “Are you… worried about me?”
“No,” Sano replied instantly, too fast, too forceful.
Haruaki giggled, soft and dazzling. “You’re worried.”
“Seimei.”
“You are~”
“I will hang up.”
“No! Wait, wait— I’ll behave!”
Another exhale. A defeated one.
“…Talk, then. You sound… different today.”
Haruaki’s fingers tightened on the phone. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Why?”
“I… had a weird dream. Or maybe it wasn’t a dream.” He hesitated. “Something kept… calling me. From the sea.”
Silence.
A tense one.
Sano’s tone changed — deeper, wary.
“…What exactly happened?”
Haruaki swallowed. “Just… a voice. Like someone whispering my name. Very close. Very warm.”
“Did anyone touch you?”
Haruaki jolted. “W-what?! No! Why would you even ask—?”
“Because you sound weird,” Sano snapped. “And last time something supernatural followed you home, you pretended it was ‘just a friendly spirit’ until it almost dragged you into the old well—”
“It was a lonely spirit…”
“It tried to drown you.”
Haruaki scratched his cheek sheepishly. “Only a little.”
Sano made a low choking sound, definitely frustration.
“Seimei.”
“Yes…?”
“Do. Not. Go near the water alone.”
“…Sano-kun, are you really worried—”
“Shut up.”
Haruaki beamed.
Then whispered, softer:
“…Thank you.”
A tiny pause.
“…Hn.”
“Sano-kun?”
“What.”
“You didn’t say ‘you’re annoying.’”
“I’m thinking it.”
“But you didn’t say it.”
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then don’t point it out.”
Haruaki covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.
Sano continued, tone stiff but quieter.
“If something feels wrong tonight, message me. I might… be awake.”
“That’s basically telling me you’ll wait for my text.”
“I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
“I DID NOT.”
“You did~”
“I’m hanging up.”
“SAN— no wait! Okay! I’m quiet! See? I’m quiet!”
“…Too quiet. Suspicious.”
Haruaki burst into helpless laughter.
Sano muttered in defeat,
“Why did I even answer this call…”
“Because you care about me,” Haruaki said softly.
The line went still again.
A long pause.
Then — the softest sound Sano had ever made:
“…Idiot.”
Haruaki’s breath caught.
“Sano-kun…”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Haruaki whispered.
The call clicked off.
Haruaki held the phone to his chest, warmth blooming under his ribs — the kind of warmth he only ever felt when Sano reluctantly tolerated him, secretly cared for him, quietly stayed.
He whispered to himself:
“…I’m so happy.”
The clock on Amaaki’s bedside table blinked 12:03 AM in the dark.
Haruaki lay awake, wide-eyed, staring at the faint ceiling shadows shifting with the ocean breeze. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt something — a whisper, a memory, a soft brush of warmth across his mind, like fingers gliding over water.
“Seimei…”
The voice from last night.
His heart fluttered restlessly.
Next to him, Ame slept curled up with the blanket pulled to his chin, face peaceful, breaths steady and soft. Haruaki watched him for a moment, making sure he was fully asleep.
Then — carefully, slowly — he slipped out of bed.
His feet met the cool wooden floor.
Quiet… careful…
He tiptoed across the house, heart beating so loudly he was sure Ame could hear it even in sleep.
When he reached the front door, he paused, fingers resting on the handle.
The night air outside felt different.
Like someone was waiting.
Haruaki stepped out.
To The Shore
Moonlight stretched across the ocean like a silver path carved just for him.
Waves lapped softly, glowing faintly blue — almost like they were breathing in time with his own heartbeat.
He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering lightly.
“...Are you there?” he whispered to the dark.
The breeze carried his voice away like something fragile.
For a moment, there was nothing — only the rhythm of the sea, the hush of night.
Then—
A ripple.
A whisper.
A soft sound of footsteps on wet sand.
Haruaki froze.
A tall silhouette emerged from the shadows, walking toward him along the waterline. The moon caught the figure’s outline first — shimmering against long strands of dark hair that moved not with the wind, but like underwater silk, weightless and flowing.
Haruaki’s breath caught.
The figure stepped into the moonlight fully.
He was… breathtaking.
A man — or something wearing the shape of one — stood a few paces away, the sea behind him glowing around his feet.
He was tall. Towering.
193 cm, maybe taller in the moon’s glow.
His hair was long and flowing — deep dark blue-black, strands shimmering like water at midnight. It framed a sharp jawline, brushing broad shoulders, moving with an unnatural grace.
His eyes—
Haruaki’s heart stopped.
They were a luminous blue-green, shifting like the tides themselves, gentle yet impossible to look away from. Every time he blinked, the color changed slightly — turquoise, ocean teal, deep sea green.
He wore a loose white shirt, half unbuttoned, revealing a smooth collarbone and skin faintly glowing under moonlight. The shirt was oversized, the fabric fluttering whenever the wind touched him.
His trousers were a soft sea-blue, clinging comfortably to his long legs, cuffed at the ankles as though he’d only recently learned how to dress this way.
Barefoot.
Smiling.
A smile that was soft, curious, a little mischievous — like he already knew Haruaki’s name, his thoughts, his heartbeat.
When he spoke, his voice was warm water sliding over stone:
“…You came.”
Haruaki felt heat rush up his neck.
“I— I wasn’t sure if… if last night was a dream.”
“It wasn’t.”
The man stepped closer.
Haruaki instinctively stepped back until his heels touched sand cooled by night.
The man laughed softly.
Not mocking — more like he found Haruaki adorable.
“Don’t run,” he said, gentle. “I didn’t come to harm you.”
Haruaki swallowed.
“You… look different.”
“Ah.” The man tilted his head. “You mean this?”
He spread his arms slightly, letting the breeze lift his hair.
The moon caught in his eyes like a deep ocean swallowing stars.
“This is a shape more comfortable for you.”
“Comfortable… for me?”
The man nodded, smiling wider.
“You seemed frightened last night. I thought I should look less… overwhelming.”
Haruaki blushed so hard it made his cowlick quiver.
“I wasn’t frightened. I was— I was just— surprised.”
“You still are.”
Haruaki’s cheeks burned.
“N-no— maybe a little—”
Another soft laugh.
Haruaki hated how beautiful it sounded.
The creature took another step, now close enough that Haruaki could smell him — like sea breeze and fresh rain.
His gaze swept over Haruaki, warm and lingering.
“Your eyes are different tonight,” he murmured.
“M-my eyes?”
“Mm.” Another step closer. “Red. Like lanterns in the dark. Very beautiful.”
Haruaki covered his face instantly with both hands.
“D-don’t say that!”
“But it’s true.”
The creature leaned down slightly, lowering himself to Haruaki’s height so gently it made Haruaki’s breath stutter.
“You shine, Seimei.”
Haruaki peeked between his fingers, heart thundering.
“You… you know my name?”
A small smile tugged at the man’s lips.
“I heard it many times.”
“From who?”
“From you.”
Haruaki blinked. “I… I didn’t say it.”
“You don’t need to. You speak with your heart.”
Haruaki’s ears turned red to match his eyes.
The creature reached out — slow, deliberate — and brushed a single finger against a lock of Haruaki’s black hair, lifting it gently.
Silky strands slipped through his touch.
Haruaki shivered, but didn’t pull away.
“Your hair,” the man whispered, voice lowering, “feels like something I’ve been dreaming of for a long time.”
Haruaki’s breath trembled.
He looked up into those shifting blue-green eyes, trapped by their calm intensity.
“…Who are you?” he whispered.
The ocean behind them rose in a soft swell.
The wind stilled.
The night waited.
The man smiled — warm, serene, almost tender.
“My name…” he said slowly, as if giving something precious,
“…is Misuko.”
The waves crashed gently behind them.
And Haruaki stood frozen on the moonlit sand, staring at the most mysterious, beautiful creature who had ever spoken his name.