What the Water Gave Us
Hi all! Time for a fic! This one was part of a zine and can also be found on Ao3. Warning for graphic depictions of violence.
-
The screaming. The screaming wakes him, shrill and agonized.
Ryuunosuke’s eyes shoot open, and in one swift motion, he jerks upright in bed and tosses his thin sheet to the side, chest shaking as if he had just experienced a nightmare.
But the nightmare’s claws remain deep in his mind, for he can still hear the screaming. It cries out again, very real and very loud, echoing from the cove. It almost seems to call to him, and shivers travel down Ryuu’s spine every time it splits the night. He’s never heard someone scream like that.
Swiftly reaching into his nearby chest, Ryuu grabs his clothes before even making it completely out of bed. He rushes through his motions, the screams piercing his ears, hurrying him as he throws on his trousers and boots.
The bright moon guides his path. He runs out the door of the mill, plain and modest, leaning a bit in its old age. He runs down the trail, through the thick pine forest, nightingales ceasing their calls in fright as he darts past their trees. He runs, and the screams grow louder, drawing him closer.
He reaches the cove as his heart, pounding in his ears, nearly drowns out those screams. Squinting, he looks down to the small, rocky beach, encircled by high cliffs. With the moon’s aid, he can barely see a figure writhing in the sand.
Ryuu wastes no time in running down the stairs carved into the cliffside. The screams compel him, even in their wild dissonance, begging for him, pleading for him.
Soon Ryuu can only see the figure. He has eyes for nothing else, charging straight towards the hurting man, the glass-shattering cries. He feels ready to give his life for-!
He stops. The illusion breaks as the man’s struggles slow and his screams die down. His voice quiets, dropping the spell, trading his cries for dry rasps and gurgles as he coughs up blood.
And Ryuu’s once-enraptured gaze quickly becomes one of pure malice.
“You,” he snarls.
The siren stares up at him with its mouth hanging open and its body convulsing. Ryuu instantly sees the source of its pain: a harpoon embedded deep in its side, fresh blood still flowing from the wound, turning the sand dark and wet beneath it. The siren’s scaled tail lashes, glittering like hundreds of opals, and its wide eyes stay fixated on Ryuu, deep purple and vibrant gold. It gasps for air. Ryuu scowls.
“You picked the wrong man to come to your rescue,” he snaps. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t wait here and watch you die.”
The siren only stares, twitches. It whimpers, possibly the only noise it can make, a far cry from its seductive song or its calls for aid. Ryuu scoffs.
“You’re pathetic,” he says. “Your song has haunted my dreams for months, and this is how you choose to show your face again?”
Its wide eyes reflect the moon, its choppy hair shines in the silver light. And it stares. It wheezes, it trembles, blood drips out of the corner of its pink lips, and it stares.
With a growl, Ryuu reaches down, scooping the monster into his arms in one motion.
“I swore to kill you, siren,” he snaps. “Not some fool with a harpoon.”
The siren’s eyes close as Ryuu carries it home, harpoon and all, holding it close even as its blood begins to stain his clothes. Its tail drags on the ground as he walks.
-
When they first met, Atsushi hadn’t eaten a human in moons.
His stomach growled as he stared up at the ship from the ocean floor. The bland taste of the fish in his hands still lingered on his tongue, its blood dissipating into the water around him, its dull scent unappealing even in his hunger.
Flashing lights to his right drew his eye, and floating there, Dazai raised one eyebrow.
“If you hate it that much, why keep eating it?” He asked, the bioluminescent stripes along his tail lighting up in patterns so he could “speak” underwater. Atsushi’s shoulders sagged a small bit, relaxing at the familiar presence, sinking deeper in shame.
“Because I don’t have to promise it anything to catch it,” he flashed back, dim lights flickering among his scales, an aquatic equivalent to mumbling. “Have you ever considered how bad that sounds? Seducing someone just to kill and eat them?”
Dazai, ignoring him, swam closer. His dark hair flowed around his face as he moved past Atsushi, and he looked at the ship above with growing hunger in his eyes, his scales lighting up to say, “I wonder how many humans it holds.”
Atsushi shrugged, continuing to nibble on his fish. It tasted like coral and sand ground into a paste.
“Wanna look with me?”
Dazai’s lights drew Atsushi’s attention once again. He stared at him, at the eager but cunning glint in his smirk, the way his tail wagged slightly. And Atsushi sighed, the gills on his neck ruffling.
“Just one look,” he flashed back. Dazai grinned and darted upwards, with Atsushi following in his wake. He left his half-eaten fish behind.
Their heads only barely broke the surface. The ship’s hull creaked as they looked up from its side, careful to stay in the shadow cast by the sails. Dazai’s eyes immediately resembled angelfish; large, bright, and flashing like diamonds.
“Atsushi,” he whispered, staring straight at the ship. “Those flags.”
Following his gaze, Atsushi saw them too; black flags, marked with a skull and crossbones.
“Pirates,” he breathed. Dazai nodded, but his following smile almost appeared giddy.
“Do you know what this means, Atsushi?”
Atsushi only stared forward. He watched the men on the ship, those he could see, scrambling back and forth like rats. Even with sea salt filling the air, he could still catch their scent when he opened his mouth.
“With the pirates around, less ships have been coming to the island,” Dazai said. Atsushi could see him from the corner of his eye, looking back and forth between him and the ship. “Less ships, less humans, less food.”
Atsushi closed his mouth when it began to water. Despite the fish in his stomach, it still growled when he began to imagine biting into a human again, its blood dripping down his chin, its bones crunching in his jaws.
He clenched his fists as if that could silence those thoughts.
“We wreck this ship,” Dazai murmured, “the humans - the food - will come back.”
Atsushi shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He could still smell them.
“We don’t have to eat humans,” he stammered. His body quaked when he heard Dazai’s low chuckle.
“Oh, but Atsushi,” he said, “you really want to.”
Atsushi’s eyes snapped open, his gaze whipped upwards to the ship again, and he breathed in their scent. His stomach growled again, louder.
“When was the last time you used your song?” Dazai asked. Sympathy oozed from his words as he cooed, “When was the last time you tasted human meat?”
Atsushi said nothing, eyes darting from man to man, as if tearing his gaze away from one would make him less hungry for the next.
“Why fight your instincts?”
Suddenly Atsushi’s eyes stopped. They stared, fixated on one man, unwavering. The man stared back.
He looked over the prow of the ship at the sirens. His mouth hung open, his white shirt billowed in the wind like sails. His gray eyes, like storms over the ocean, bored into Atsushi while his black hair danced around his face. They seemed to stare at each other for moons.
Then the pirate screamed.
“SIRENS!” Rang his warning cry. Atsushi’s song filled the air before the pirate even finished.
The next few minutes happened in a blur, whirling past Atsushi’s head in a song-filled bloodbath. He only remembered Dazai joining his melody, lending his voice, causing men to tumble into the sea as if begging to be devoured. He remembered the ship crashing into the rocks, splinters flying, more men screaming. He remembered many of them dying by his fangs.
He remembered the taste of man. Sun-hardened skin squished between his teeth, hiding large, juicy muscles beneath it, their bones and organs bursting with flavor in his mouth.
But none of them were him.
When his high finally fell, like a wave building to its peak only to break, he stared at the remains of his meals. He couldn’t fathom eating so much, but he felt full for the first time in a long while.
Even so, he was hit with the realization that his prize had escaped; the man he had truly wanted, the man who had raised Atsushi’s song from his throat. He was not among the dead, the loose body parts floating in the water like shark bait. Atsushi couldn’t smell his blood.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Atsushi,” Dazai flashed his scales, beaming as he gnawed on a leftover bone, picking it clean.
But Atsushi only looked up at the surface again, watching the wreckage sink. The sky above had begun to turn dark.
His heart pounded, his stomach ached; his prize was still out there.
Their attacks increased in number. It became Atsushi’s addiction; eating whatever humans he could whenever the craving arose, although they could only satisfy him temporarily. None of them were him, and his cravings all but consumed him.
“Hello? Earth to Atsushi.”
Atsushi jumped a little when Dazai’s hand clapped onto his shoulder. The other siren grinned, rubbing his thumb on the fabric of his stolen tunic.
“We’re not here to think about him tonight, okay?” He said. “You’re relaxing if I have to force you.”
Atsushi nodded, faking a smile for him. His insides felt as if they were tearing themselves apart, collapsing inwards, but he smiled.
“And you like this place?” He asked as his eyes began to dart around. The humans walking around the port city each smelled delicious, and he had to resist opening his mouth, tasting the air for their scent. The days when he resisted eating their meat seemed years ago.
But none of them gave the pair of sirens a second glance, not when they looked completely human, even though Atsushi still wobbled on his new legs. A siren’s shapeshifting abilities could only provide the form, not the skill.
“Trust me,” Dazai said, holding onto his wrist to drag Atsushi’s tottering body alongside him. “Travelers pass through this town all the time. No one will bat an eye at this tavern.”
Atsushi’s lips flattened into a tense line, but he only nodded as Dazai pulled him into the inn. The sign above the door, reading “The Bucking Seahorse,” swung back and forth in the evening breeze.
Warm light filled the tavern, lit by a fire at the left wall and candles hanging from the balcony above. Tables sat scattered around the ground-level floor, with various townspeople and seafarers clustered around them, some laughing and grunting, others keeping quiet.
“You haven’t tasted human ale yet,” chuckled Dazai, pulling Atsushi to a table near the fireplace. “You’re in for a treat tonight, Atsushi.”
Silent, Atsushi could only nod. He let Dazai order, trying to ignore how his stomach growled, how the scent of humans filled his lungs until it nearly stifled him. When his tankard arrived, he chose to drink instead of breathe.
He couldn’t be sure how much he drank. It tasted vile at first, yet the more he downed, the better the ale tasted. It poured into his head and overpowered every feeling except a strange, warm buzz, spreading numbness from his fingers and up his limbs. It felt like drowning and breathing deeply all at once.
And for a moment, he forgot.
Then, like a bell ringing all around his head, he remembered when he smelled that scent once again.
Immediately his senses were flooded. He opened his mouth, breathing it, sure of it over the scent of alcohol and tobacco.
“What’s wrong?”
He heard Dazai’s voice, but he didn’t respond. The noises of the tavern filled his ears, loud and boisterous, growing rowdier and the night grew longer and the tankards emptied. Atsushi only stood and looked towards the door, eyes struggling to focus.
It was him. Atsushi could pick that dark hair out of a crowd, his storm-like eyes from a sea of gray.
He seemed paler than before as he walked forward, into the tavern, his hair pulled back in a small ponytail, his white-tipped bangs still hanging around his face. Eyes traveling, distaste pricked at his expression, his lips in a frown.
He bumped directly into Atsushi. Either because he hadn’t been looking where he was going, or because Atsushi’s body moved without his consent and he stepped in front of him. The man snarled.
“What do you think you’re-?!” He began to snap, immediately grabbing Atsushi’s shirt, but he stopped when he saw his face. Just like before, he stared.
Despite the ruckus of the tavern around them, everything seemed to silence. Atsushi could finally see his face up close, with his fair skin and pale, thin lips. Atsushi’s lungs held his breath captive.
Then the man’s features darkened. His brow furrowed, his lips turned downwards in a deep scowl, and hatred like Atsushi had never seen flared in his eyes.
“You,” he snarled like a wild dog.
Atsushi’s hands seemed to move on their own. They settled on the man’s cheeks, stroking them. They felt softer than sea moss.
And before the man could sputter out another word, Atsushi’s voice filled the space between them.
His mouth formed words, notes, a song spilling from him before he understood its meaning, and
the man’s eyes and body began to relax. His expression softened, almost melting in Atsushi’s hands. A smile even formed on his ever-so-slightly parted lips.
Atsushi reveled in it. He wanted him to keep smiling, to stay content in his touch, in his song. The look in his eyes almost seemed hypnotic, unfocused and turning upwards.
“Atsushi!”
Though he still sang, Atsushi turned ever so slightly to Dazai, who stared at him and grabbed onto his shoulder.
“What are you doing?!” He hissed.
Atsushi couldn’t answer without breaking his song. But as he looked back at the man’s face, to his own hands, he could see the scales forming on his skin, watched as his claws grew longer.
“Your transformation’s breaking,” Dazai snapped.
Atsushi could feel his breath hitch. His song faltered. In that split second, he saw everyone else in the tavern watching him with that same vacant look on their faces. Each of them had fallen under the spell of his song.
But he didn’t stop. If anything, his voice grew louder. He just wanted to watch his one human, watch the contentment and happiness on his face. Atsushi’s voice alone seemed to cause shudders of pleasure all throughout his body.
Atsushi’s mouth began to water again. He opened his jaws wide, fangs extending as his transformation shed off his body like dead skin. The trousers he had been wearing fell to the ground as his legs turned back into his long tail, and he leaned forward even though he struggled to stand, bringing his mouth to his human’s neck.
He jumped when the gunshot rang through the air. His voice broke, his song ending abruptly as he tore his gaze from his human and to the door where armed guards suddenly stood, guns in their hands..
“I TOLD YOU I HEARD A SIREN!” One of them shouted at the man directly beside him, wax filling their ears to block out Atsushi’s song.
Paralysis shot through Atsushi’s body like a lightning bolt. His human began to stir, Atsushi’s spell wearing off as he looked directly into the barrel of a gun.
Dazai scooped him into his arms and ran before the bullet flew through the air, bursting from the gun with a deafening bang. Atsushi covered his ears as Dazai jumped out the nearest open window, landing in the alley, tumbling to the ground.
“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, eh?” He huffed as he sprang to his feet, hurtling onto the cobblestone road. Atsushi clung to his neck like a hatchling.
People in the street began to scream, shouting and pointing at Atsushi as Dazai darted past them, Atsushi’s tail failing.
“THEY’RE RUNNING AWAY!”
Heart pounding, Atsushi looked behind them. He watched as the guards burst back out of the tavern, their boots pounding on the cobblestone street, their bullets flying past the sirens’ ears.
“We just have to make it to the ocean,” grunted Dazai, scrambling in and out of alleyways to avoid the guards’ bullets. Atsushi could only nod, panic and confusion and dizziness overwhelming his body, flooding his head. He couldn’t taste anything but ale, couldn’t smell anything but his human.
They wound around paths, the smell and roar of the ocean growing nearer, yet still too far. The world seemed to spin around Atsushi, blurring in front of his eyes.
Then he could see it. Dark, glittering in the moonlight. Dazai gave a small, strained smile before a cry of pain split the air.
Dazai stumbled. His lips turned downward in a grimace, but he still hobbled out onto a pier, gripping Atsushi to his chest. The scent of siren blood began to spill from him.
Atsushi didn’t have the chance to see where he had been shot. Before he could even ask, Dazai tottered off the pier and into the ocean.
The cold water slammed into Atsushi, petrifying him. He could only see bubbles, could only hear the roar of the ocean, could only see tinges of red in the water. His head seemed to spin in circles.
He gasped when he broke the surface, looking around frantically.
“DAZAI!” He shouted, eyes darting back and forth. Nothing rose from the water.
One glance behind himself, and he saw they had been followed. The guards ran out onto the pier, pointing their guns at the water, shouting orders to the nearby ships.
“FIRE ON THE SIRENS!”
Atsushi dove back under the surface, darting back and forth. His blurred vision trailed behind him as panic rose in his throat like bile.
“Dazai!” His scales flashed.
That had been his mistake.
Pain suddenly flared up from his side. He screamed, bubbles pouring out of his mouth. The smell of his own blood mingled with Dazai’s.
He thrashed, whipping around to the harpoon buried in his side. Instinctively, he sunk his teeth into the rope, tearing into it easily before it could pull him back to its ship.
He could hear his own heartbeat now. Blood trailed behind him. He only thought of swimming, of swimming far away from the gunshots and guards and ships.
He swam until the pain overwhelmed him. His body fell still, feeling as if fire flared from both of his harpoon wounds, piercing beneath his ribs and out of his back. Only the tide moved him as he cried out, a sound absorbed by the sea.
He only knew he had washed ashore when he could clearly hear his own screams.
He wove his song into his cries. Perhaps instinctively, perhaps desperately; he couldn’t be sure.
He couldn’t tell how much time had passed. He simply blinked, and the sky changed, the stars moved. Blackouts washed over him with the frequency of the sea, rushing over and off his body, stinging his side with every salty wave.
Atsushi’s voice slowly gave out. Rasps and choked noises replaced his screams, and his wide eyes stared upwards. Dreams began to pile on top of him, dreams of seeing his human, of hearing his voice.
He stared upwards at him. Even if this were a dream, Atsushi only wanted to see his face, to imagine him standing close once more. He gasped for air when he meant to speak to his illusion, remembering the low tones of his voice in a faroff mumble.
Everything grew dark again as warmth wrapped around Atsushi. His head rolled back, the pain overwhelming his body until it enveloped him, pulling him down into itself. But at the same time, he thought he felt himself lifting into the air, something like arms holding him tight.
If only his human would truly hold him that tenderly, thought Atsushi as he could no longer keep his eyes open. Maybe that’s all he had wanted.
Maybe if he lived, he could fix things, he mused as his cruel dream carried him away, taunting him with his human’s voice, his touch. Maybe they could just be happy together. Maybe his human would forgive him.
Atsushi smiled sadly as darkness overcame him. Dreams could be cruel.
