His chest rises, falls; inhale, exhale. The sky above him is free of clouds, lying like a blanket of blue across the horizon. Translucent shimmers fly across, a trick of the light caused by a too-bright sun. Naoki finds himself squinting as his breathing regulates. His mind spins, trying to make sense of what just happened to him. It seems ridiculous now; the urgency he felt when he realised the creature was injured — he should be dead. Lifelessly lying at the bottom of the ocean because of his own stubbornness and stupidity. Maybe I’ve been the Noca all along, he thinks and would’ve laughed if not for the residual pain in his chest.
He doesn’t know if his child self would be ecstatic or horrified. His aunt used to threaten to tie him to the house to stop him from going siren searching. Nine-year-old Naoki would huff and puff until she let him go anyway, not deterred by the danger of the sea or the very likely possibility that he would never get to see a siren because they did not, in fact, exist.
Turns out nine-year-old Naoki used to be smarter than he is now.
His hands curl against the wooden floor, still wet; a puddle of water forming where his body lies. The seagulls circle above, almost as if they’re waiting for him to rot away. He shivers at the thought. Well, at least it’s over now, he thinks and breathes in.
The silence is torn apart by a singular click.
Naoki doesn’t move. His muscles tense as he continues to stare into the sky. Maybe if he ignores it, it’ll simply turn out to be a figment of his own imagination brought on by the fear still lingering in his—
Another click.
This isn’t happening, Naoki thinks. The siren came back to kill him, just like it says it would in all of the stories he used to hear as a child. Lure him in with false pretenses and then wait until he’s vulnerable, breath heaving within his chest, only to drag him into the depths of the ocean to devour him. Across the horizon, a bird flies, casting a shadow onto Naoki’s face.
“Ka’a.”
His whole body freezes. A ripple of unease spreads through his chest, weighing him down as if it were stone, one after the other piling on top of him. Slowly, carefully, he pulls himself up, eyes focusing on the waters ahead. At first, there’s nothing. More waves, foam, a single streak of red. Scanning the ocean for the source of the sound, Naoki nearly loses his grip when he finds it.
Only a sliver of its face peeks out of the waves, water lapping at its skin as it bops up and down. A pulse of shock runs through Naoki’s body when amber eyes meet his, big and expectant.
“I swallowed too much sea water,” Naoki mumbles, not averting his eyes even a bit, “a fish did not just speak to me.”
Eyes turn into slits, nostrils flare. Naoki’s pretty sure it’s calling him an idiot.
“Ka’a,” the siren repeats as it surfaces some more. Like this, Naoki can see the scars; the way the sun illuminates the scales, makes its wet skin glisten. Huffing, the siren turns to the side, until the rays hit the still-attached hook in its shoulder. Naoki blinks.
“Ka’a?” Naoki asks, eyeing the hook for a long moment. Then, his eyes widen. “Ka’a. Help. Ka’a. You’re asking for help?”
“Ka’a.”
“No no no,” Naoki laughs, nerves audible, “you already had a chance to eat me once and you missed it.” Standing up, he raises a finger to point and lowers it again when the creature’s eyes snap to it. His knees shake, legs just barely able to support him. “I’m not gonna fall for you luring me back in there. If you want help,” he continues, hands pointing downwards, “the only way you’re getting it is if you’re on my boat.”
The creature continues to stare, eyes following his hands.
“And that’s not happening.” He wills his voice to remain steady, as much as the near hysteria laps at its edges. “So, I’m going home. Kapa.”
Taking a deep breath, he turns his back to it. Get out of here, he thinks. Get back to Nauwai; forget this happened. Don’t be stupid.
Just as his foot makes contact with the floor, the ground tilts. He misses his step, knee twinging when he attempts to keep his balance. The bow rises from within the waves, leaning backwards, almost tipping over. Naoki slips, weight pulling him backwards. Pain explodes at his backside, travels all the way up his spine as he crashes onto the floor. The boat plummets; his body sliding back to the front, skin chafing. It shakes, rocks; his heartbeat accelerates. Then, it settles. Silence spreads over the scene. Naoki’s eyes blink open again.
“Ka’a.”
The creature is panting as it pulls itself up the ladder, shaking the boat with each movement. Dripping water, its tail slithers up behind it. Goosebumps break out over Naoki’s skin, a shiver akin to witnessing lightning and thunder. It doesn’t stop — more and more rising out of the depths until the entirety of its body is sprawled across the stern. Heartbeat in his throat, Naoki follows the slick tail, longer than any fish he’s seen before, up the grey-brown scales, the fins, and finally the face that remains trained on him with terrifying focus. Sweat gathers underneath his palms.
His eyes snap back to its tail as it rises, languidly winding behind his back. Without warning, he’s shoved forward. “Oy!” he yelps, “What—”
Click. Click. Click. The sounds reverberate throughout the boat; faster, cutting off intermittently, interspersed by growling and hissing. Yet, it seems less angry. Impatient, almost. Demanding. Naoki can barely believe his eyes; believe anything this day has brought forth. Claws glisten in the sun as the creature points towards its own shoulder, where the hook protrudes out of its skin. “Ka’a. Ka’a. Ka’a. Ka’a. Ka—”
“Help! Yes, I get it,” Naoki interrupts, voice rising. The creature’s jaw snaps shut with a loud clack. The claw remains pointing. Are those raised eyebrows?
“I understand, okay? Ka’a — I understand.” Slowly, without averting his eyes from the danger in front of him, Naoki pulls up his shaking legs. Palms bared, he stands; wobbles and steadies himself. From this height, he can see the extent of its injury and winces. “Qixa,” he mumbles, “that's definitely all the way in the muscle. Knife’ll be no use. I mean, I can try and pull it out. But it’ll hurt and...,” he trails off, eyes catching on sharp fangs. Instinctively, he lifts one hand to rub the skin at his throat. “No,” his voice rises, breaking half way through the words, “no no no. What am I saying.”
Knees shaking, he takes a step back. “This is a trick,” he mutters to himself, “I’ll get closer to help and you’ll eat me. I know this. Why am I even contemplating this? I already helped you out once — you’re welcome, by the way — and you nearly killed me. Nope, I’m not a Lequhe.”
“Ka’aaaaaaa.”
Comments (0)
See all