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Kim had a favourite bay.
Over the years, it had emptied out, fishers and idlers and the in-between and beyonds clearing out when a few too many of them went missing from obvious siren attacks. Kim had never claimed to be subtle. His kind did not need to be.
Strangely enough, the emptying out of the bay had seemed to only endear it further to Kim. There was a stretch of rocks that littered the edge of the shore, long enough for Kim to stretch himself out upon, for Kim to look up at the sun, feel it leach the water from his skin, his scales. There were no hunters here, and no prey. Kim could let melodies trickle from his tongue, and his only audience would be the crash of the waves and the drift of the clouds and the burn of the sun. He would draw nothing to himself.
Kim's favourite bay was an empty one.
There was someone by Kim's favourite bay.
Kim stayed beneath the waters, nestled in a crook among the rocks, watching as a lone boy wandered out onto the sands that encapsulated his bay. Kim had tried, once, to lift himself upon the land. The rough grit of the sand lacked the steadiness of the rock, and it lacked the fluidity of the sea. Kim hadn't found himself fond. The boy petered across the sands bare-foot. Kim wondered if it was different to human skin.
"Hello," the boy called out. He was looking at the rocks, his hair swaying softly in the breeze. His hands were twisting in front of him in complicated patterns. He smelled nervous. Kim lowered himself further into the waters. "I know you're there."
Humans were known to be foolhardy. Stubborn, overconfident, reaching for some nameless glory soaked in a hunt. Kim saw no harpoon on the boy. Perhaps he simply had a death wish. Those were common enough, too. Either way, Kim was curious enough to take the bait. He lifted himself up onto the rocks.
The boy's eyes widened, the twisting motion of his hands pausing. He was soft-looking, large eyes, jaw defined by youth, his cheeks rounded. Kim was a hollow thing in comparison, hunger nipping at his insides. The boy would make a meal to remember.
He stood too far away for Kim to reach. Smart, Kim supposed, except he'd been foolish enough to come down to the shore at all.
"Hello," the boy said again, the fidgeting of his fingers starting up again. "You… I've seen you here, often."
Kim raised an eyebrow. He would have noticed a human boy out on the shore. There weren't many hiding spots around.
The boy seemed to understand the gesture's meaning. "I live closer by than the others. Everyone else moved away when you scared them off. We— my hia and I— uh, couldn't." He pointed over his shoulder. Kim followed it to find himself staring at a structure balanced on the edge of the raised bit of land that slanted down onto the shore, a smaller framed structure jutting out, barred. Distance distorted size, but Kim was fairly certain it was the average height of a human dwelling. "I can see you from the balcony. Hear you, too." Kim froze. The boy smiled guilelessly. "You have a beautiful voice, P'Siren. I've never been close enough for your song to take effect, though."
Kim blinked. There was no radius of efficacy for the song. If it was heard, it drew.
Kim felt— he felt unmoored, he thought, that was the word for it, like a boat with a frayed rope that had split too soon, wandering out into the ocean. Free prey for the taking. The boy did not seem to know that he had shaken Kim's very world. "Kim," was all he managed to say, half in a daze that he was not proud of.
The boy made a questioning hum, and he met Kim's eyes with such an absolute lack of fear that Kim thought he must have a death wish. The boy knew what he was. He had called him P'Siren, honorific and all. Kim shouldn't have found it so endearing. This was a human boy. A human boy that was immune to his song.
"My name," Kim clarified. "My name is Kim."
If possible, the boy's smile widened. His teeth weren't as sharp as Kim's. It made Kim want to run his fingers along the edges. "Oh. Hello, P'Kim. I'm Porchay."
"Hello, Porchay," Kim returned dutifully. "What brings you to me?"
"Ah, well…" Porchay made a helpless sort of gesture with his hands. "I… Can you be my music tutor?"
Kim blinked.
"Vocals only, of course," Porchay continued, eyes so intent on Kim that Kim thought he might burst into flame. "It's just that I… hia was trying so hard to get the money for Ananth— ah, a… mainland music school, but now he's— well." Porchay grimaced and looked away for what felt like the first time in the entire duration of this strange conversation. Kim took in a breath. "I can't— I want to get in. We've been trying for too long for me to just give up. But I need a scholarship, and I… well." He made another helpless flailing gesture.
Kim did not know what to address first. He had to admit that he was, somewhat unfortunately, intrigued.
"You want a siren to sing at you," was what he settled on. It seemed as good a place to start as any. Kim still hadn't decided if the boy was foolhardy or had a deathwish. Desperate was perhaps the word, which fit with either description.
Porchay laughed nervously. "I guess that's right."
"Porchay," Kim said, albeit unsure why he was protesting such a willing meal. Porchay had such soft-looking skin. It would tear so easily between Kim's teeth.
Porchay laughed again, though it was less nervous this time. Kim willed his own mouth to not follow the sound. It was strangely infectious. "You can't reach me here. And I've been watching you. You don't like land."
Kim leaned his weight on his arms, trying to ignore the way heat climbed up his neck at the thought of Porchay watching him. Kim felt half-crazed. This was a human boy. "My song will draw you to me," he said, which might have been a lie, if his theory was true. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps his song did have a radius of effect.
Porchay considered, then looked behind him. He pointed. Kim hadn't yet managed to tear his eyes off Porchay long enough to look at what he was pointing at this time when Porchay abruptly stood up and turned around.
Oh, Kim thought. He's leaving. It shouldn't have been disappointing. The first reasonable thing Porchay had done all day. Although, perhaps it was disappointing for exactly that reason. A perfectly good meal gone.
Porchay walked over to one of the tall trees lining the other end of the shore, where sand crumbled over from the land, and yelled, "I could tie myself to this tree?"
Kim tried and failed to clamp down on his smile then, only just swallowing down the laugh that wanted so badly to escape him. The corners of his mouth were physically fighting, and winning, against his pathetic attempts at a straight face. "I think that might be a bit too far," he called out in reply.
Porchay walked back over and stopped again just shy of reaching distance. "Hm."
"How about this," Kim suggested, and he had only his own damned curiosity to blame. "I won't sing hunting songs."
Porchay's head tilted. "Hunting songs?"
Kim offered a measured smile. "Not all siren songs are to lure prey. We sing for each other, too. Entertainment." It was only partially a lie. Siren songs simply did not affect other sirens in the way they did prey.
Porchay, to his credit, was not immediately convinced. His frown said this clearly enough. He wore his emotions so freely on his face, in his gestures.
Kim made a show of a sigh, which he suspected would be more effective if he could wipe his damn smile off his face. "Okay. Go on, tie yourself to the tree. I'll sing. Tell me if you feel anything."
It took some time for Porchay to scrounge up some rope— he had to go all the way back to his dwelling, in fact— but it wasn't too long before he had secured himself reasonably well, from what Kim could tell, to the tree. Porchay lifted his head when he was done and called out, "Ready!"
Kim sang.
It was one of his usuals, wordless, a melody borne on soft notes that dipped and rose with the crash of the waves against the shore. It was one that fed Kim well.
Porchay did not move from the tree. Instead, his fingers tapped out a rhythm against the tree bark, keeping time with Kim's voice, and Kim was almost surprised enough to falter.
Porchay was immune to Kim's song.
That… was worth investigating, he told himself. It was worth asking questions about. It was worth staying for just a little bit longer.
"Well?" Kim said as Porchay drew nearer, having untied himself after the end of Kim's song, ignoring the thundering beat of his own heart.
Porchay's lips were still pursed, but his cheeks were burning bright. Kim wanted to sink his teeth into his skin, taste the rush of blood for himself. He had the feeling that it would be sweet. "You have a beautiful voice," he said, in a rush, a single breath, then ducked his head, clearing his throat. "But, um, yes, I— you didn't. Lure me."
"No," Kim agreed, and tried his hardest to stave off the wonder that ached to leak into his voice. "I didn't. You don't need to tie yourself to a tree."
Porchay hesitated again. "And how do I know you won't when I'm this close?"
Kim let himself smile, though he did do his best to curb it slightly. "I suppose you'll just have to trust I'm more curious than hungry."