Gun

Quick disclaimer: I haven’t written anything in a story-telling format thingy in more than 4 years, cuz the only things I’m used to writing are analytical essays and research papers, so please bear with me. Prolly cuz its been so long since I’ve written anything for fun, and I’m at an emotionally stable phase of my life rn, I’m rlly struggling w how long it actually takes me to write anything, and how I should move on to actually writing the emotional side of things... soooo (n its so awk sharing my writing cuz ik im not a strong writer, but this plot has been in my head for too long n I just need to let it out)

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*Mermaid AU Haru and Rin met on an unsuspecting, storm-filled, tear-stricken night, amidst turbulent waves (and Haru fell in love, at first sight).  

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A thin veil of clouds covered the moon on a restless ocean night. Deep in the cove, a single, frail, worn-out fishing boat twisted and turned violently in the bellowing sea. Wave after wave of salty, tempestuous water lapped onto the sides of the boat. And the washed out, fading yellow paint on its shell threatened to break free while the boat forcibly danced with the waves, as the sea unleashed its fury.

The deck that had previously carried the prize of the day’s harvest was now an inch deep in water. Salmon and mackerel drifted out of their assigned fishing nets, abandoned.

The owner of the boat, a skilled, experienced fisherman, was heaping bucketfuls of water from the deck into the ocean. At any slower pace, the small fishing boat would sink due to the heavy pour from the heavens, before it could even topple from the waves attacking its sides.

The fishing boat found itself amidst a sea storm and the man was desperate—his son was abroad with him.

“Rin get down from the deck!”

Too late.

The child shrieked as another wave crashed into the boat, and from its sheer strength, the boy was tossed, a ragged-doll, into the monstrous sea beneath him.

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Cold water seeped into his lungs as his arms dangled and flailed helplessly above him. He had just learned to swim this year, but the numbing, harsh sea was uninviting—a stark contrast from the lukewarm water of his pool that had gently guided him through the strokes he swam.

He tried. He really did try.

Oh was he desperate to swim even a millimetre closer to his father and his boat. And oh how he wished to return to the events of this morning, before he threw a tantrum, and before his father promised, in an attempt to soothe his anger, to bring him along on a last-minute fishing trip.

But, time waits for no one, and the sea is relentless.

His stamina drained out as he embraced the cold, crashing water. The clouds had engulfed the last spec of light the moon reflected. The sky, a deep hue of murky green, blended into the shoreline and he could not see but could taste the droplets of the stinging, salty water falling from his bangs.

For god knows how long he surrendered himself to the waves, succumbing with each punch and push as the waves crashed down on him. He was thrown into the water, mercilessly, until his father’s screams and his own were mere whispers across the horizon.

At this point, a strange, serene peace had settled in him, as if death had finally courted him, and he had accepted the inevitable.

So, with one final thought of his mother, father, and the stroke called butterfly he was supposed to learn on Monday, Rin closed his eyes and sank.