“Qixa.”

The sky, bright and clear, hovers above him like a cloudless canvas. The most precious gold, reflected in the waters down below. Naoki lets his gaze wander over the horizon, scanning for a familiar face. “Yes I know I came back,” he shouts into the air after bringing his boat to a stop, “Feel free to call me a noca.”

At first, only silence meets his words. His fingers curl into his palm, a strange tension crawling up his arms. It grows stronger the longer he has to wait; Naoki swallows hard. Was all of it just a dream? Did he make it up again? He feels his heart sink just as a tremor rocks his boat.

“Oh c’mon,” he yelps, “not again.”

Like clockwork, the boat stills. After taking a moment to regain his balance, Naoki turns, seeking out the well-known culprit. He almost misses it; but there it is. Half hidden in the waves right next to the ladder leading up to his boat, a head protrudes out of the water. A guilty air swirls above it. Naoki raises his eyebrows, arms crossing in front of his chest.

“Did you try to get onto my boat again?”

The head sinks a little lower.

“Mu tut,” Naoki sighs, “Do you even know how much you weigh? You’re gonna capsize my boat if you’re not careful.”

A little lower.

“And then what happens is that I’d be stuck,” he mumbles, gesturing loosely with his hands, the presence of the other almost forgotten, “in the middle of the ocean - I don’t have gills!” His voice rises, threatening to crack, “then oops, I’d drown, and I’d be siren food. If you still wanna eat me that is, given that I kinda saved your life last time. You know I just—”

His words trail off as their eyes meet. Barely above the surface, the creature watches him with big eyes, twitching as his voice rises. Naoki feels his cheeks burn and takes a deep breath. It could’ve killed him yesterday and yet it didn’t. All night these thoughts have plagued his mind, kept him turning and tossing. “It’s just— you’re—,” he stutters, “you’re kinda intimidating still, okay? Take it easy with me.”

Amber eyes track his form, dilated pupils pulsing at his movement. Cursing internally, Naoki wipes his palms down his shirt. “Alright,” he sighs, lowering his tone as much as he can, “if you wanna come up on my boat, just,” hands gesture towards the dock of his boat in an unnecessarily drawn-out pace, “be gentle. Nice and easy.”

A soft click rumbles out of the siren’s chest, followed by a hushed chuff. 

“Yeah,” Naoki whispers, “exactly.”

Languidly, the siren moves through the water again, claws reaching for the ladder at the back. The moment it attempts to pull itself up, Naoki’s feet slide across the floor. “Wait,” he shouts, watching as the creature freezes mid movement, eyes wide, “let me just— let me counterbalance you, just in case.”  

Without turning around, he shuffles to the helm of the boat, hands stretched out in front of him. “Not yet.” The metal bumps into his back and heaves himself onto the platform behind him. “Alright,” he shouts, “go.”

It clicks in acknowledgement. At least Naoki thinks that’s what it is.

Moments later, the boat tips again; Naoki’s meager weight is not enough to counterbalance anything, let alone a fully grown sea creature. The equilibrium shatters with a rising helm. Naoki’s heart beats frantically in his chest as the creature pulls itself up with bated breath. As fast as it rises, as fast does it fall, causing the water to splash all over the back of Naoki’s shirt. A deep breath as the creature’s tail stretches out across his boat, sun rays hitting its brown skin. He swallows, hard. “How are you so heavy.”

A click.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Naoki murmurs, wringing out his shirt without any success, “you’re a siren.”

Freezing in place, his eyes widen. The words play over in his mind like a broken record. That’s a siren on his boat. A sea-forsaken siren.

A siren that is currently rummaging through his bag and upending at least half of his equipment with a curiously plapping tail. Naoki's heart feels tight. “For someone who had a kixaigou spear in their back yesterday, you sure seem keen on fucking up my boat,” he says, voice still a little shaky.

Paying him no mind, the creature continues on its path of new-found curiosity. Its nose crinkles, sniffing the air in an obvious display. Naoki licks his dried up lips. “You want some fish?” His voice rises just a tad and the creature’s ears peak up at his tone. Scooting past its thumping tail, just narrowly avoiding a smack, he makes it to the cooler at the back. “It’s right here.”

He doesn’t know what possesses him when he grabs one of the fish and throws it in the siren’s direction — a strange apathy to his own survival, or maybe it is his childhood dreams, fragmented pieces of a lively imagination resurfacing as he faces the real deal he didn’t think existed. 

Or maybe he just doesn’t think.

The fish sails through the air; the siren’s eyes dilate with frightening focus until its maw widens, teeth glistening in the rising sun. Just a moment, before it snaps shut around the fish and swallows it whole. Sweat gathers at Naoki's temple. “Those are some sharp teeth,” he laughs anxiously, “only for you to swallow the whole thing in one go.”

Another chuff, followed by a wave of little clicks as the tail thumps harder onto the wood. “Alright,” Naoki yelps, reaching for the cooler a second time, “more fish, I get it.” Once more, the creature’s maw closes around the haphazardly-thrown food, swallowing it down with a big gulp, forked tongue peaking out of its mouth in obvious pleasure. Naoki’s eyes are pulled towards its shoulder, moving up and down as if it wasn’t suffering from a wound that nearly killed it just yesterday. Has it healed already? There’s a determined slant to his brow, concentration lapping at the lines beneath his eyes. “What happened to your wound?” he murmurs, more to himself than anything.

A strange feeling burns beneath his ribs, reminiscent of earlier times, when Naoki would explore the world without the burdens that lie upon his shoulders. As if pulled forward by a string, he closes the distance between them. The skin at the creature’s back is still pink, weeping, but undoubtedly healing much quicker than it should be. Naoki feels the air punch out of his chest. “Qo xu baxe?”

He’s not thinking when his curiosity takes over his limbs and leads his fingers towards the reddened skin. His touch is only met by a slight twitch, not enough to break Naoki out of his thoughts. Skin brushes against skin. It is strange and smooth underneath the pads of his fingers. The familiarity of it burns behind his eyes, awakening a painful throbbing at his temples. A hiss escapes his lips, fingers flinching away only to brush against the siren’s shoulder.

Just as it comes, the pain dissipates in a flash. What was that?