You're struck with a sudden urge to talk a walk down the shoreline. Not an usual impulse for you to have, even on a cloudy, chilly day like today. So you put on your boots and coat and--

You pause before you head out the door, turning back and grabbing your pocket knife out of the kitchen junk drawer. It's not something you usually bring with you, but the impulse to bring it with you isn't so out of pocket that you feel the need to question it.

A few minutes later, you're walking down the deserted shoreline below the rocky cliffs that line the edge of the outskirts of town, near the house you'd grown up in. The house that your parents had given you when they'd decided to live somewhere with a more active nightlife than a dinky little fishing town.

The coast of Hurricane Cove is not a particularly pretty area. It could be classified as a beach by some charitable definitions, though it's quite narrow—especially at high tide—and the ground is more gravel than sand. The beach and the cliffs are shades of grey, and today the sky and sea are too.

Which is why, as you round the curve of the cliffs, the bright yellows and reds of some kind of large creature laying across the beach immediately catches your eye. Though the creature is vibrant enough—and big enough—to stand out no matter how grey the weather is.

You're still a couple dozen feet away from it, but you can already tell you've never seen anything like it.

The torso is somewhat humanoid, though much larger. If they were fully human and upright, they'd be around fifteen feet tall. As it is, they're over twenty-feet long due to how much longer their fish-like tail is relative to their torso.

Their head is considerably different in shape than a human's head. Larger in proportion to their body, and with a flat, rounded face ringed with seven orange tentacle-like appendages. In front of these is a layer of thinner fronds or fins that are a slightly darker shade of orange. Most of their face is a golden yellow color, while a crescent of of pale yellow frames the left side of their face.

Their tail is striped with oranges and yellows, reminiscent of a clown fish. Their pelvic, dorsal, and tail fins are all webbed like a fish's, though the tail flukes lay flat like a sea mammal.

Despite its slightly unusual appearance, there's no denying what this creature is.

A merfolk. You've found a merfolk. Or at least something that looks far more like a merfolk than any other creature you can think of.

What do you about that? Call someone? Who? There are a couple people you know in town who might be able to help, but…

You can just imagine the footage of the mer going viral. It may be dismissed as fake by most, but if the right--or wrong--person sees it…Images of the mer being hauled off in a too small fish tank to be studied in some lab to be poked and prodded fill your head and you shudder.

There's nobody you trust to help with this…at least nobody who lives close enough to be immediately helpful.

You're on your own.

Help.

The unbidden thought makes you jump slightly. But you quickly refocus yourself, gulping nervously and crouching down beside the mer. Blood is running down his face from where the net had cut one of the upper tentacles that ring his head.

You slip out of your jacket and sweater, quickly pulling the jacket back on over your undershirt before the sea breeze can chill you too harshly. You wrap the sweater around your hand, intending to gently clean the blood off the merfolk's face.

As soon as the knit fabric of the sweater touches the mer's cheek, one of the tentacles ringing his head abruptly wraps around your wrist.

You gasp, dropping the sweater and instinctively trying to pull away.

Stay. Help.

The mer's eyes open—shimmering white, without pupils or irises. Yet somehow you can tell his gaze is focused on you.

He lets out a soft, imploring trill.

"Stay."

You hear the word in your mind more clearly, and suddenly realize the voice in your head is not your own.

"Y-You're…speaking to me? I-In…my…" You let the question hang, feeling too foolish to even finish speaking it aloud.

Even to a merfolk.

"In your head. Yes." He lifts his head slightly, a few stray bits of gravel sticking to his cheek. "Stay. Help."

You suck in a shuddering breath, nodding. "Y-Yes. Right. I-I…I will."

He sighs in relief, his head slumping back down. The tentacle loosens and falls from your wrist.

You don't pull your hand back right away. You hesitate a moment, then rest the back of your hand against his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, but of course you have no idea of that's normal. What you suspect is a problem, though, is how dry he feels—more rough and chapped than you'd expect a sea creature to be.

You glance down at the soft but dry sweater you'd been using to clean his face, then lift your gaze to the sea. You give a small sigh of regret, standing and jogging towards the water. The sweater's going to be ruined either way…may as well do things right.

You don't hear the small whimper of protest he lets out as you leave his side, but soaking the sweater in the sea doesn't take too long. You're back in only a moment, kneeling before him and lightly washing the blood from his face.

He lets out a relieved trill as the seawater-laden fabric brushes his cheek, actually nuzzling slightly against the cloth.

"How long have you been out of the water?" you ask.

"Too long. Hurts."

You frown sympathetically, gently patting his face with your sweater, trying to restore some moisture to his dried skin. Some of the tension seems to leave his body as you work, and his face relaxes into more of a tired look rather than a pained grimace.

You move on to his tail, wringing out your sweater over it and letting the water drip onto his scales. You return to the ocean to re-soak your sweater a couple more times, repeating the process before laying your damp sweater on his back, keeping that small bit of him damp. It's not much, but it's better than nothing.

"There…I hope that's a bit better…" you say, crouching down beside him.

"Yes. Thank you." He lifts his head slightly, his long mouth tilting into a smile. "My name is Sun."

You give a small chuckle at that. "It suits you," you say kindly before telling him your own name. "Well, Sun, luckily I've got just the thing to get you out of this net," you say.

You pull out your pocket knife, unfolding the blade. Before you begin cutting the net, though, you find yourself staring down at the knife with a perplexed frown.

What an odd coincidence you'd decided to bring this…

Sun watches you curiously, and when you lift your gaze to his, you see his smile turn markedly sheepish as he cants his head slightly.

"I…I don't usually take a pocket knife with me on walks," you say, your tone guarded as you find yourself looking to Sun with a suspicious look.

He shifts uncomfortably, scooting away as he eyes the blade--the tool you'd gotten out to help him, but could yet be used against him if you deemed him unworthy of your assistance.

"I…I asked you to bring it…" Even in your head his voice sounds small and meek. The tentacles around his head shrink nervously.

Your eyes narrow. "Asked," you repeat flatly, your skepticism abundantly clear.

Sun bobs his head in an insistent nod. "Yes, asked!" He pauses, then lowers his gaze. "…I did ask. But…if you're…not used to speaking with merfolk…it can be hard to tell our voices from your own…Especially when you can't even see us…"

Your stomach churns at what he's implying. "S-So…you can just…compel me to do your bidding?"

He lets out a trill of distress, shaking his head. "No!" he cries. "Not…really. And not anymore, now that you know what our voices sound like."

Your gaze becomes unfocused as you stare ahead, not looking at Sun. The impulse to go out for a walk, to take your knife…impulses you'd questioned only slightly at the time…They hadn't even been your own thoughts?

Sun squirms, one of his bound arms pulling at the net as he tries to reach for you.

"I'm sorry," he says with a mournful trill. "It's…not how we prefer to introduce ourselves…"

Despite everything, that statement piques your interest. "You've…met other humans?"

"Some. Usually younger than you." He smiles weakly. "They don't…question us as much. And they're good at keeping secrets."

You suppose that tracks…and any child that does tell their parents would probably just be patted on the head and praised for their active imagination, and merfolk would remain purely myth.

"What makes you so sure I'll keep a secret?" you ask, once again stepping towards Sun to begin cutting him out of the net.

Despite your blunt question, he gives a small smile, his tail flukes twitching happily as he realizes you're still helping him, despite the lingering mistrust.

"I tried to direct my voice to someone who would."

You pause in your cutting, raising a brow. "You…can do that?" At his nod, you frown slightly. "So…do you…read minds, or something?"

Sun quickly shakes his head. "No no, nothing like that!" He pauses, trying to think how to explain it. "It's…like shouting down a corridor. You don't know who your voice will reach, but you can direct it. But, instead of picking a direction, you can pick a temperament."

Your face scrunches in confusion as you try to imagine what that would even be like, and he lets out a soft laugh--the sound emerging from his mouth rather than his mind.

"I guess it's hard to understand if you only speak verbally."

"I guess…" you agree with some reluctance, cutting away another piece of netting.

A beat of silence passes and Sun's expression softens slightly. "I didn't know for sure if you'd keep our secret. But we won't keep our own secret much longer like this…"

You give a small, weak smile, shaking your head. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone."

He grins at that, the tentacles that ring his face perking up and making him look even more like his namesake.

You return to cutting his arms free, mulling over what he'd said. You suppose what he's said lines up with what you've observed…at least as far as you can tell. Even at the time you'd wondered at your own impulses…so you weren't exactly under any sort of thrall. And if he could alter your thoughts…why wouldn't he have done so before you started cutting him out of the net, rather than risking abandonment if you got upset with him?

You admit there are some other explanations that come to mind…strange tests or games he might be playing with you, but all seem rather convoluted and unlikely.

Finally, you unwrap enough of the net for him to slip his arms out of it. He trills happily as he does, lifting his upper body off the ground and stretching in a pose that reminds you of a seal lifting its tail and fins off the ground at once.

You take a couple steps back, getting clear while he adjusts himself. He settles back onto the gravelly beach, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Thank you!"

The kindness in his smile causes your cheeks to warm, and you laugh modestly. "W-Well, I'm not done yet…"

He grins, holding out a hand towards you.

Curiously, you step forward, placing your hand in his. Your entire hand barely manages to cover his palm. Not only is he a much bigger creature than you, but his hands are proportionally larger than a human's hands as well.

Yet he's still very gentle as his long, clawed fingers close around your hand. He pulls his hand back slightly, coaxing you towards himself.

He lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against yours. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the unbridled warmth and affection he feels for you. You're just simply inferring his feelings from the gesture, either…at this proximity, you're feeling them, in a very literal sense.

To your relief, though, you find you do have a sense of how to distinguish what's his and what's yours…though your racing heart and warm cheeks make it clear that your own feelings are not far behind, despite how short your time together has been.

Still, you're…not used to feeling so much so fast, so after a moment you step away with a nervous laugh. "I-I…I should get the tail--er, the net--off your tail…" you fumble, quickly glancing away.

Sun laughs, the end of his tail swishing in amusement, though he quickly stills it once you crouch down to resume de-netting him.

Your pounding heart fills the silence, at least to your own ears. You wonder if Sun can hear it too…or if he'd felt any of your blossoming feelings towards him when he'd nuzzled you. You could ask, but…

"S-So, um, how'd…you end up in this net, anyway?"

Best to change the subject for now.

If Sun notices any of your inner turmoil he's kind enough to not draw attention to it. "We were swimming near the shore, in the shallows. Well, shallow for us anyway," he corrects with a small laugh. "It was storming, so the currents were strong. Silt was kicked up near the ocean floor. We didn't see the net until it was practically wrapped around us."

You wonder at his use of "we" and "us". He's said it a couple times now, but every time he had, you'd assumed he'd been referring to merfolk in general, which wouldn't be the case now. But, given the more pressing issues at hand, you simply write it off as a speech quirk and ask, "How long have you been suck like this?"

"Nine days," he says, his head tentacles--you can't help thinking of them as rays now that you've seen them more perked up--drooping slightly.

You wince. "No wonder the net's twisted so tightly…" you mutter. "Wait…have you eaten? Are you hungry?"

"Yes. Very. But we can hunt once we're free."

"You won't be too tired?" you ask in concern.

He laughs. "Tired yes. But kelp doesn't move very fast. We'll eat our fill, get some rest, then catch some fish later," he assures you.

"Well…m-maybe I could…get you some fish from the market? Once I get this net off you?"

His grin widens and he tilts his head, resting his chin on one hand as he regards you with a playful look. "You'd hunt for me? After only a day?" he says, the voice in your mind practically purring in amusement.

It doesn't take a genius to realize that must mean something…specific to merfolk. "O-Oh, well, it's…n-not exactly hunting…i-it's just the market…"

"I see," he says coyly, the amusement not fading from his grin. Clearly that distinction doesn't take the meaning--whatever it is--out of your offer.

The conversation lapses as you focus on cutting the net. It's quite the undertaking, given his tail is almost three times the length of his torso, and it's where the bulk of the net had tangled itself. The net is a chaotic mess, twisting and looping over itself. Sometimes it seems you cut a few dozen strands in a row before any part of the net loosens even slightly. Occasionally you manage to sever enough to unwrap a few feet of net, and each time you do it feels like an immense victory. Each hour that passes only makes a small dent in your progress.

Sun, meanwhile, is far more comfortable with his arms unbound, and seems content to lay with his body curled in a crescent moon shape around you, watching you work. His white eyes are lidded as he rests his chin on his folded arms, his rays curling inward as he relaxes and begins to doze.

You're getting to the last few layers of net as dusk approaches and light begins to fade. Light you need more than ever, as you need to be careful not to cut into Sun's scales as you remove the net. Some parts of the net are wrapped very tightly around his tail, cutting into him and limiting what strands you can even cut.

You remove your phone from your coat pocket, shining the flashlight on his tail. This works for a bit--some of the looser strands can be cut with the blade in one hand and your phone in the other, but for many, you need both hands to hold the strand away from Sun while you cut it. As you're awkwardly trying to hold the phone by tucking it under your chin, you (predictably) drop it and it bounces on Sun's tail before clattering to the gravelly beach.

Sun jumps, letting out an alarmed trill as his already tender tail is struck.

"Sorry!" you yelp, gently putting a hand on his tail and running it over his scales in what you hope is a soothing gesture. "I-It's just getting a bit hard to see…"

His eyes widen as he looks past you at the sun setting over the ocean. "O-Oh no! I shouldn't've fallen asleep…" he frets. He lifts his body up, his arms flailing as he claws at the gravel, frantically trying to drag himself back to the ocean.

"Woah, Sun! Wait!" you say, scrambling to your feet to get out in front of him. You hold up your hands to try to block his path as best you can. "You've still got netting all over your tail!"

"It's loosened! I can get the rest off myself!" he says quickly, trying to move past you.

"We can't just put all this back in the ocean!" you protest.

Sun stops, his rays drooping.

"Sun…" you say gently, stepping forward to put a hand on his arm. "Why…why do you need to get back in the ocean so badly?" You lightly cup his cheek in one hand, ostensibly to make sure his skin hasn't dried out. It hasn't--it feels more or less how it did after you'd run water over him. Certainly not nearly as dry as it had been when you'd first found him.

He sighs softly, nuzzling his cheek against your hand, one of his rays wrapping around your wrist. He turns his head slightly, kissing your palm. Even with the uncertainty of the situation, the gesture makes your heart flip.

"The truth is, we're…different, than other merfolk."

You manage to suppress the weak--but sympathetic, of course--laugh you'd been about make at his admission. You smile gently, bringing your other hand up to cup his opposite cheek. "Sun…I've never met another merfolk. You know that."

"We're…different than humans, too."

Your brow knits in confusion and you cant your head curiously. You don't bother listing several of the more obvious differences between humans and merfolk. Surely he's aware. Besides, there's a weight to the way he's saying "different". He's clearly talking about something…well, different.

"When the sun goes down, Moon will come out."

"The moon?" you ask blankly, glancing up at the sky.

He puts a hand on the back of your head, nudging your gaze back to himself. "Not the moon. Moon. My…counterpart. Brother…of sorts."

"You have a brother?" you ask, turning your gaze back towards the ocean, where only a tiny sliver of the sun remains above the horizon.

Sun bites back a sigh, once again patiently guiding your gaze back to him.

"Of sorts," he says pointedly. "He's not fond of humans. He--" Sun's words cut off as the setting sun slips beneath the waves, and he gasps in pain.

"Sun?!" you cry in alarm. "What's wrong?!"

You hear a pained noise in your head, as if he'd tried to speak but was quickly silenced.

His skin begins to shift hue, the stripes on his tail darkening into a navy blue with only occasional speckles of yellow. His torso goes from pale yellow to silvery white, only his claws darkening from pale yellow to navy blue.

His rays darken and elongate, grouping together behind his head into one large appendage, while the smaller fronds around his head lighten into a silvery white. Together these changes make it look almost as if he's wearing a nightcap of some kind.

The mer before you pushes himself up on his arms, looking down at you with glowing, pale blue eyes. Now that the change is complete, the markings on Sun's face are far more prominent. The darker side of his face is now on the darker side of navy blue, nearly black, and the scales on the other side are a crescent shimmery, whitish-silver.

It makes it pretty clear who you're now speaking with, and how he got his name.

"M-Moon!" you stammer, stepping back.

That's what Sun meant by "Moon comes out"…and what he meant by "different". And, you realize belatedly, probably why he switched between "we" and "I" when referring to himself…

Moon chuckles softly. "So Sun did find time to give me a proper introduction?" he says languidly. His voice is different than Sun's. Similar, but not enough that you would ever mistake the two. His voice is softer, smoother…not nearly as bubbly as Sun's.

"S-Somewhat…" you say nervously, taking a step back.

Moon pulls himself forward, his tail curling behind you and blocking you from stepping away from him readily. "Oh?" he asks, lowering himself to not tower over you as much. "What lies has my dear brother been telling you then, little morsel?" he teases.

"M-Morsel?!" you squeak, stepping back…only to nearly lose your footing when the back of your legs bump against his tail.

Moon chuckles softly, lifting his tail so that it rests against your back, preventing you from falling over backwards. "Only a figure of speech. No need to be upset."

In what world is 'morsel' just a figure of speech??

"R-Right…" you say dubiously. "H-He really only said that…you don't…like humans?" you admit in a small, meek tone.

He laughs again. "I don't," he replies bluntly. But a playful smirk tugs the corner of his mouth. "But…you did help us. So I suppose I can find it in me to tolerate you." The smirk widens and lightly pokes the top of your head with one finger. "Besides, Sun is already getting attached to you."

Your face warms at that. "O-Oh?" you say, attempting to sound nonchalant…and failing spectacularly.

Moon grins. Despite his large, sharp teeth, the grin somehow doesn't look very threatening. Moon himself is of course intimidating…but his look is one of genuine amusement. As if to drive home the point, his tail swishes contentedly behind him as he regards you.

"And you to him," Moon observes.

The laugh you let out is a bit too loud and far too abrupt, and you hear Moon quietly snicker in amusement at your flustered reaction.

"W-Well…it's um. Not every day you meet a merfolk…" you say with forced levity.

He chuckles softly. "It is for us."

"Heh…right…" you say again. There's a slightly awkward pause between you two before you ask, "S-So, um, do…do you want me to get the rest of that net for you?"

"Please," he says with a gracious nod, shuffling back and uncurling his tail slightly.

You both take up your previous positions--or, well, Moon takes up Sun's previous position, more accurately. His tail is slightly curled around you, his head resting atop his folded arms as he watches you work. Though you can tell he's watching you more carefully than Sun had been. Even his lidded gaze is somehow far more discerning than any look Sun had given you.

You once again try to use your phone for light, holding it up in one hand while running your other hand over the remaining bits of netting.

"This is really wrapped tightly…" you comment worriedly. You'd noticed a few places where the net had cut into their skin, but it's worse than you'd guessed…

"Cut it if you must. Even if it nicks our scales. We will heal fast once it's away."

"Are you sure? I'd…hate for you to struggle once you're back in the ocean."

He laughs softly. "It would take more than a few cuts to make us struggle," he says. Before you can express any sort of relief at that, his grin widens and he adds, "Though I understand we now have someone willing to hunt for us…"

You feel your cheeks warm at his teasing tone. "S-Sure, I can…pick up some fish from the market tomorrow…I-I mean, if…if you guys would still be here…"

He chuckles mischievously, pulling his upper body towards you and running a knuckle down your cheek. "We will be wherever you are…if you still wish to hunt for us…"

You laugh awkwardly, scratching your cheek. "I-I think you might be making this 'hunting' thing to be more than it is…it's…it's just a trip to the store. P-Probably much easier than actual hunting."

"Any hunt is easy for a skilled hunter," he grins.

You snort wryly, rolling your eyes. "Flattering, but that's not what's happening." Your brow knits as you realize something. "…And I think you know that."

Moon laughs warmly. "Merfolk have fish markets too," he agrees in a teasing tone.

You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment. "…Oh…" you say, abashed.

"But it is still hunting. It is still food you could keep for yourself but give to another."

"I…suppose…" you admit. You return to working on the net, carefully finding whatever loose bits you can cut away without accidentally nicking their scales. "I…admit I'm relieved you two can just go to the store for food…rather than having to hunt with an injured tail."

You feel him tense, and glance up to see his smile has morphed into something akin to a bitter sneer.

"I said merfolk have fish markets. Not that my brother and I are welcome at them. We are considered too…odd," he says, the claws on one of his hands tensing and digging into the gravel. "So we will do our own hunting. Injured tail or not," he mutters in a dark tone.

You stare at him in surprise. You know essentially nothing of mer society, but…to not even be allowed to shop for food?

"Not…all your own hunting," you remind him kindly as you cut another string on the net.

Moon's brow lifts and his surprise shows on his face for only a moment before his usual cool grin returns…though with a bit more warmth in it this time. "Yes. Not all."

You lower your gaze, a bit shyly, as you continue cutting him out of the net. A few more strings are cut, and suddenly the whole thing seems looser.

"I guess those were some 'load-bearing' strands…" you chuckle as you begin unwinding the last bit of net from his tail. You're glad you were able to cut everything away without adding to the numerous cuts on his tail…though as you shine your flashlight over it, you realize that a few little nicks from your blade would have been a drop in the bucket compared to all the places the net had bit into him.

Moon lifts himself up, flexing his tail experimentally.

"Not as bad as it looks. Don't fret, Starlight," he says.

You blink, glancing up in surprise at the nickname. "Starlight?" you repeat.

"Starlight," he confirms, lowering his head. He hesitates a moment, and when you don't pull away--in fact, you seem to lean towards him slightly--he nuzzles his forehead against yours.

Like when Sun had, you feel Moon's fondness for you in the gentle touch. It's more…reserved than Sun's, in its way, but no less strong.

Moon lingers in the nuzzle, cupping your shoulders in his hands, his thumbs resting on your cheeks.

"Will you return tomorrow?"

"I will," you say softly. You allow yourself a playful smile, adding, "After I hunt for you."

You giggle when you feel a flustered jolt run through Moon. Outwardly, he doesn't react, but with his forehead still nuzzled against yours, you can feel that he's not quite as unflappable as he seems.

"Sneaky," Moon accuses fondly.

The two of you stay in your embrace a bit longer before Moon gives you a gentle headbutt and pulls away.

"We must return to the water," he says, his tone carrying a bit of regret. He grins playfully, adding, "We want to look our best for our dear Starlight tomorrow," he purrs dotingly, lightly poking the top of your head with one claw.

You giggle shyly at that. "Alright…Stay safe, okay?" you say, a bit nervously. You wish you could invite them back to your place so you can know they're safe while they heal up…but you have to trust them to know that they can handle themselves in the sea while they're healing.

"Rest well, Starlight."

"You too, Moon. And Sun," you say, watching as he half-slithers, half pulls himself down the couple meters of beach between you and the waves, disappearing beneath them.

You feel a melancholy pull in your heart once they're out of sight, but it only lasts a moment before you see Moon leap out of the water, flipping in the air before disappearing under the waves again.

You can't help but laugh warmly at the beauty of it. "Showoff," you mutter in a fond tone.

"I heard that."

Typically, today would be the perfect day to be out fishing. The salty breeze is steadily kissing away the blistering heat of the bright sun, the sky clear and beautiful – no storm clouds in sight. It's the middle of the week so all the townsfolk should be busy instead of lining the sands and waters. Most of all, you're using up your PTO before it resets for the Quarter, which you decided to place all that time on your boat, honing your fishing skills.

Yet all that time perfecting your relaxing hobby and all you can show for it is this one measly fish. It's barely even the size of your fist!

Setting the poor fish down in a salt water filled bucket, you debate on what to do with it and slump in your beach chair. You were hoping to be able to catch a meal for dinner, wanting to spend all your time at the beach today, but maybe that's only a pipe dream at this rate. Could you possibly use the tiny fish as bait..?

No, that's a stupid idea. You're probably lucky to even catch this little guy with all the Fazcorp boats roaming around. It's a mystery why they have a massive, looming ship in the distance and a bunch of speedboats zooming in circles like their drivers’ heads are chopped off. You just don't care to look into it.

Next thing you know, you're sprayed with a wave of freezing sea water, immediately snapped out of your musings. Your eyes sting with the power of a million suns, your soaked hands rapidly trying to rub out the salt that continues to make your eyes water.

Peeling out of your chair, you lean heavily on the edge of your boat, pouring caught water onto the floor; not like it's making a mess, since there's water all over your deck anyway.

Through your waterlogged hair you see that bear fish thing logo taunt you from the back of a speedboat. Right, of course it's as if the devil itself heard your thoughts and sent karma straight back your way.

You really don't want to end things here, but not only is your mood soured, your clothes are sticking uncomfortably to your skin after becoming drenched. Sure, you brought a spare change of clothes since you're surrounded by water –stuff like this is bound to happen– but until you're back on land you don't want to tempt fate into soaking those too.

Resigning your special time out at sea, you pat yourself dry as best you can with a towel and start up your boat’s engine, heading towards the local pier. Maybe you can go to the store and get some things to pair with the fish… The day doesn't have to end up completely wasted.

Instead of watching the annoying corporate boats clog the horizon line, you turn your head to watch the clear beach. Your boat isn't slow, but it doesn't speed past 30 miles an hour on a good day, so you might as well enjoy the scenery while you wait.

Gosh it really is a pretty day, annoying you all the more that those boats are there; you'd have a beach day instead if you wouldn't be pissed off seeing them everywhere. There's swaying palm trees casting perfect blots of shade and bundles of bushes further inland separating the land and sea as if it's a naturally made privacy wall. There's even a taped off area prohibiting people from messing with the sea turtle eggs – you hope the boats haven't scared any mamas off. You'd love to see them all hatch, though it's a very rare chance you'd witness that.

Instinctually you slow your boat as a wiggling mass lays near the restricted area. You can't tell what it is exactly, dark colors barely brightening in the light of day, but what you can see is the thick net it's all wrapped up in.

Oh god is that a turtle?! Is it trying to lay? Or… Do turtles check on their babies??? Oh, whatever, poor mama probably got caught in one of those fazco nets somehow! Man they just piss you off more and more, what are they even doing along your coast? That monolith of a research center is farther north!

Pulling your boat up to the beach, you take the fillet knife you were planning to use for dinner prep and carefully sheath it in your pocket. It's not the safest thing to do, but it'll have to do. You're not exactly equipped with things to cut nets with.

Now that you're out of your boat and creeping up to it, the thing is much too big to be a sea turtle, let alone its color being a dark blue rather than the green you were expecting. You don't even think it's close to a turtle at all, its round shape in actuality is it being forced into a curled position.

A red eye appears between the netting, honing in on you almost immediately. The animal freezes. You barely raise a hand to placate it before it starts snapping at you and wriggling its way over.

You run around it, trying to figure out what to do as clawed hands reach for you only to cause the creature to tumble about within the net. It hisses at its self-inflicted pain, making it only struggle more.

With your back to the shore, you hear the worst sound possible in this situation.

“Hey! You okay over there?!”

You whip yourself around and stance yourself wide, hoping the intruder won't see the strangeness of the being behind you.

“Uh– Y-yeah! Just a, ah, poor turtle got stuck in a net! I'm helping it out and releasing it back into the water.”

The person was poking their head over one of the smaller bushes, decently far away enough that you can't make out much of their details. You hope the same goes for them when it comes down to the trapped creature.

You hold your breath, praying the animal behind you doesn't hiss or heaven forbid maul you in front of this random guy.

“No, I was asking about you! You look drenched dude!”

…What?

“Uh… It's just a bit of water? A… wave got my boat pretty bad, but I'm fine?”

“Kay, good to hear then! Welp, if ya got it all handled then see ya!” The figure pulled back behind the brush and went off about their business.

Wow. Okay.

You're not going to complain about things going your way, but if you were that guy you'd be tripping over here immediately. Even calling the closest marine life rehab or something so they can professionally take care of the “turtle”.

Though, in your current shoes, you don't think you should do that. If your eyes aren't suddenly damaged from the spray of salt water from earlier, you'd say you found an honest to God mermaid.

Everyone knows the number one rule to preserving mythical creatures is to not willy nilly tell people about them. You wouldn't want someone to snatch this mer up and stick them in a fish tank.

The mer…maid? Man? They’ve settled in the sand thankfully, staring at you with sharp eyes.

They growl at you when you take a step towards them.

“Look, I just– need to get you into my boat okay? I don't think it'll be a good idea to release you here.”

You side step in a perimeter around the creature, only their eyes following you unlike previously, when their whole body would shift to keep you in its reach.

When you're close enough, you book it to the end of their tail and grab hold of the netting. The mer flails again with hisses and growls as you pull as much as you can towards your boat. You try not to gag at the heavy waft of a rotting fish smell as you strain to fight their weight. Luckily the back of the boat has a latch door that flops down into the sand, letting you drag the mer aboard.

You hastily shut the door and dance around the once again aggressive mer before zooming off. Instead of heading where you came from, you head further in the opposite direction out to sea. That way none of those annoying speedboats and any bystanders are around to witness the release.

Tiptoeing out of the humbly titled “Captain's Quarter's”, you peek at the mer lying on your now somewhat dry deck. It immediately spots you, to which you sigh at its warning growl.

Observing them, they seem to be really dried out, sand clinging to their entirety and scales appearing matte. You can't make out much of their form besides creases where its body folds onto itself, its color unanimously blue and so deep it could be considered black. If it's that good at camouflage this close and on land, then no wonder these creatures are still only regarded as legends.

“Let's get you–”

“Hisssssss!”

The mer swats at you when you retrieve your fillet knife, making you drop it with a loud clang. They seem to puff up looking at it, actually succeeding in swatting it across the deck with a flail of its tail.

Okay, so not cutting them out anytime soon… And they definitely don't want you touching them. Even if you did cut them out, they'd probably kill you anyway.

But you don't want them to just die…

“Alright, so no sharp things for now. I got it buddy. Just uh… let meee…”

You look around and spot your only bucket. The bucket that has your tiny forgotten fish.

“You hungry?”

Maybe building trust will be the best course of action? You have to get rid of the fish anyway to use the bucket.

The mer doesn't respond. It is awfully dumb of you to assume it knows English, huh? Well, it makes you feel better at least, so yap you will.

Carefully gripping the squirming snack, you shimmy closer to the mer. You're presenting the tiny fish as if it's an offering to a god; you can only hope the mer is more merciful than how a god would react to such a lousy sacrifice.

You can't exactly expect them to be able to eat the fish themselves –the netting is quite tight– so you really hope the idea of food makes them not want to bite your hand off.

They're deathly still as you settle your feet beside them, lowering the fish closer to their head.

You actually had your hopes up that you'd get away with it as it was unresponsive to your closeness, but as soon as the meal was before their mouth both clawed hands gripped your wrists painfully, dashing all hope back into the ocean below.

Welp, time to accept your fate. It's probably offended you offered something so small and decided to eat you instead–!

Despite the pain radiating from your surface level cuts, you numbly blink at the creature eating from your hands.

It's a little gross; the slime of its spit and the blood of its meal quickly coats your fingers. It takes you only a moment after acknowledging that to process that its teeth are currently hovering over your empty palms.

With a yelp, you yank your arms back and fall on your butt. It seems neither you or the mer expected the overreaction, it's eyes wide. You're shocked it's grip was even loose enough to let you go.

“Cheehehe chee chee…”

A hushed, raspy, masculine laugh escapes the mer, rattling like the slow shake of maracas.

Oh, this guy thinks he's funny, huh?

You send him a half-hearted pout as you scramble to your feet, marching over to the bucket to give him what he deserves–and needs, but this is for you right now.

Grasping the top and bottom of the bucket, you launch the water out of it and onto the mer without warning. He flinches with an adorable yelp.

“Oh my God…” You look at him in awe.

The mer watches back with a shocked expression. At least you assume it is with its fishy smooth lips being pulled into a long line. The deep cobalt blue explodes into patterns of color, irregular white markings and yellow spots dotting along the length of its tail. The mer is a little more humanoid than you expected, a familiar muscle structure making up his top half – the texture of the front appearing more like the soft underbelly of a snake while the rest of him is coated in those pretty scales. Little fins decorate along his tail, but the strangest thing is the night cap-esk appendage attached to the back of his head. It almost seems to be like a one to one copy of its tail but miniaturized.

Trailing your eyes back to his face, he seems to have caught you staring, that flat face tweaking a brow at you.

You weren't checking out a fish, you weren't checking out a fish, you weren't checking out a—

“Yourrrr–voice, is adorable! Aw, and what a cute squeak you made!” You warbled.

Maybe patronizing the mer isn't a much better idea than gawking over it, but it doesn't understand you anyway. It's fiiine.

Turning around to wash off your hands and scoop up more water with the bucket, you return to the mer seeing it look anywhere but you, hiding its face in its arms.

It sends an uneasy feeling in your gut, but you brush it aside. At least it seems like the mer is more docile. You gently test that theory, slowly pouring the water on top of him again, walking around his body instead of just tossing the water over him to ensure everything gets properly wet.

After completing a cycle around him, you're satisfied by the relaxed appearance of the mer and the removal of dry sand on his scales. That must feel so much better already.

Maybe it's finally time?

You place down the empty bucket and spot the glint of the knife he swatted away, picking it up while keeping a close eye on the mer. Making your approach as noticeable as possible, you walk just a bit heavier and make the tool visible with its tip pointed to the sky.

The mer scooches back nervously once it notices you welding the fillet knife, but he doesn't dare move when you settle by his face and kneel. He eyes examine yours wildly.

“Don't worry, buddy. I'm not going to hurt you.”

Oh so slowly you reach out and pinch the netting at his chest, pulling it up and letting him witness how you end up cutting it. His body tenses at each snap, but the longer he realizes the painlessness of the operation, the more he seems to relax.

When you worked your way up to his head, you were the one to tense up at realizing his awed stare. You have no idea what's going on in that fishy head of his, but it almost seems like there's stars in his red eyes.

Not willing to just sit there and contemplate, you focus on finishing the job. It took ages seeing as you had to practically saw through every fiber with a dinky fillet knife; the sunset is already starting to settle into the horizon.

As soon as his head was free the mer was able to slip out of the net himself.

And holy shit was he big.

Maybe he's proportionally human sized, but as he sits on his tail he is already taller than you by two feet. Sitting!!! Two whole feet taller!!!

Curiously, he just sat there and let you boggle at his height… Though, you'd be a little struck too seeing a two legged thing free you from its own creation. Is he observing you back? Do you seem smaller to him now that he's free?

“Welp! You're uh, free to go, buddy! I'm glad I could help you out, and especially happy that uh, you didn't decide to maul me..!”

Gosh you're bad at this. What if it was a long con to get your guard down? Now he can just eat you up without any restrictions! Great job!

“I'll uh, yeah! I'll keep the net, erm, take care of it so this doesn't happen again, ya know! And uh… You can skedaddle on home!”

The cruel irony of your stomach growling is not lost on you. You even gave the dang mer your dinner and now you're probably going to become his dinner!

A sudden splash snaps you out of your inner woes, an empty deck greeting you.

He's gone?! And he let you live!?! Woohoo!!!

You thank your lucky stars that everything worked out in the end, doing a little dance as you make your way back to the wheel. Finally, you can go home and eat something!

The tension seeps out of your shoulders as you enjoy the salty air and the dying light of the pink sky. Seems today wasn't much of a waste after all.

Only a couple of minutes into your boat ride back home however, a ship-shaking slam causes you to kill the engine in a panic.

You worried you hit something with your boat, but in actuality the mer is back on your deck with a hugeee ass tuna fish in its claws.

“Thisss, is a proper meal.” He hisses, holding it out to you.

Oh. Oh okay.

Right.

So you had a listening audience this entire time. Great.

And now he's giving you a lecture??? What the hell is happening?

“Uhm… Okay.”

“For you..?”

A soft gurgle escapes from him as you blink owlishly. He looks a little unsure. Is this whole thing really just for you?

Maybe you can have that full day on the sea after all…

“Thanks, big guy! I'll happily take it off your hands, though, I'm sure you need to eat too. That little fish couldn't have been enough,” You tsked at him with a playful smile.

Today isn't a bad day at all thanks to this sweet lug! You should really return the favor somehow. Maybe saving him is more than worthy of a gift in return, but you don't think you did all of a great job at doing that to deserve this.

You almost cooed such thoughts to him before he nearly collapsed all his weight onto you with a crushing hug. That rumbling hiss returns with heavy stutters, shaking your entirety and making it even harder to stay standing. He's all slimy too, rubbing that putrid fish smell all over you... Maybe you will go home just to wash that off.

“Wonderfulll. Such a sweet, caring, funny, thoughtful little mate, sharing with me.~”

Uhm… You had to have misunderstood that. Maybe it's just a compliment and you're overthinking it like you did all day.

Yet, as you tried to release yourself from his hug, the mer grabbed your head in a gentle cradle and started licking up the side of your face and hair unabashedly.

Unfortunately, all you've found so far is trash. Washed in wrappers, cans, straws, tangled knots of fishing line, and other miscellaneous bits of refuse. It was disgusting, really, how little people seemed to care for the world around them. Go ahead, toss your garbage on the ground! If you don't have to worry about it anymore, why would anyone else?! Never mind the wildlife that all too often get harmed by that litter. You didn't leave it all there, of course. A swiftly filling bucket that swung with each step was clutched in your hand.

Your eyes swept over the freshly turned shore between the surf to your left and the fragile, storm-eroded scarp to your right. And-- score! You reached down to pluck a large chunk of deep blue sea glass from the sand and quickly held it up to the sky, admiring the rich color in the sunlight. This wasn't the type of treasure you'd find on just any day. The bit of glass alone would make the time you've spent today walking and cleaning up after others worth it. Depositing the glass in your pocket and beginning to walk again, your gaze turned to the stretch of beach ahead of you.

What was that..?

Off in the distance was… a lump. A large one, but too far away to be anything more distinct. So you shrugged it off. Probably some mass of seaweed or flagrant jetsam come back to roost. Either way, you'll find out when you get there. You turned back to scan over the sand. Left, right, your eyes flicked back and forth, when out of the corner of your vision--

Did it move?

Pausing in your tracks and furrowing your brow, you peered at the strange lump through narrowed eyes. A moment. Two. Three.

The lump rolled like the waves washing by it.

Oh no. Your heart leapt in your chest as you quickened your pace. Your mind raced. What were those rescues you were supposed to call for beached dolphins? Or trapped sea turtles? You couldn't remember. What if it was a person? You had no clue. Your feet pounded the sand.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Crunch. As heels ground to a stop.

"Oh." The sound dripped from hung lips. What was before you was…

You had no idea.

A tangle of flesh and scale in yellow, orange, gray, black, and blue. All woven together with the knotted lattice of fishing net. You cursed.

The mass writhed at the sound. Something pressed against the netting. Something that was dark blue and gray and looked too much like a human hand for comfort.

You stumbled back.

Was it… Was it mers? You-- you thought those were just stories! Like bigfoot or goatman or something! Things drunken fishermen would regale to the crowds at pubs. Or parents would chide their children with to keep them from splashing into the ocean when they were too busy to watch them.

The big bad mers that would snatch people away and trap them forever in their underwater lairs.

But this..? You didn't know what to think. You took a careful step forward. The tangled mers lurched back. A pair of dissonant shrieks and squeals cut through the air as they tumbled over each other, fighting to get as far away from you as they could. These just seems like animals. Trapped, scared animals.

Do you still call for help?

Who would you call?

Should you even call?

The thought pounced on you. If you called for help, would there be any? Or would they take the mers for themselves? Trapped again and treated like an awful cross between an orca and a lab rat. Dumped in a too small tank, and poked and prodded and studied. Scraped for every last bit of information that could be extracted from a living legend. Possibly to never see the oceans again.

Possibly this has already happened. If there were two mers right in front of you here, then there were surely more that exist. What chances were there that this has happened before? Mers stranded, trapped on beaches, and spirited away by clandestine organization. Maybe even intentionally captured, plucked from their aquatic homes. Taken away to labs that nobody knows exists. Experimented on in ways nobody could imagine.

You shook your head. You were wasting time.

You had decided: you would handle it yourself.

Finally, you dropped the litter bucket that you've had clamped in your hand through the entire experience and dug frantically into your pockets. "Wallet… Phone… C'mon, where is it?"

With a jingle, you pulled out your keychain and rifled through the too-many charms you had accumulated. Hands shaking, you clutched your mini multi-tool and hoped against hope that the tiny blade within would be strong enough to cut through the thick nylon of the fishing net. How long had the mers been out of the water? And how long could they be out? How much time did you have before someone else came and stumbled on the mers?

You dropped to your knees and crawled closer to the tangled mers. The mers hissed, and spat, and thrashed, sand kicking into the air as they tried their animalistic best to defend themselves against what they thought was a threat.

"I'm sorry," you spoke softly, reaching out to grab at the net. "I'm sorry. I'm-- I'm trying to help."

The mers squealed back, wriggling away from your hand. But the mers truly were well entangled within the net and each other, and couldn't move fast enough away for you to not hook a finger around the braided cord. Pulling the net as far from the mers as you could (Not much; a scant inch), you slipped the little knife under the netting and started to saw fervently. Thankfully, it cut. But slowly. Slower still as you needed to wrestle against the fearful mers to keep the cord in place.

Saw, saw, saw. Snap. The first section of cord breaking cracked through the sea air.

The mers stilled.

You stared at the two creatures and couldn't tell if the sound had startled them, or if somehow, maybe, they understood what you were doing. Regardless, you couldn't look a gift horse like that in the mouth, and moved on to the next section of the net.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Bit by bit, the hole in the netting widened. Six inches, to a foot, to two feet. As you reached to cut the next section, the mers rolled again. You flinched, tripping over yourself and falling flat on your back, when the dark-colored hand you had seen earlier thrust from the gap in the net. Scooting and scrambling away as fast as you could through the wet sand, you watched as clawed-- and webbed, an idle part of your mind noted-- fingers plunged into the beach. The other hand followed suit. In a burst of motion, the darker mer sprang from the heap and twisted serpentine toward the shoreline. Just as fast, it slipped into the water and disappeared, nothing more than a blur of black and blue.

You clutched at your chest and willed your racing heart to settle. Then directed your gaze back to the net, and the mer that was still ensconced within.

The beast was crouched, practically curled in on itself, from where it lingered in the fishing net. Cautiously, you leaned forward, still seated in the sand. This was the first time you could actually see the mer, not obscured by its own body or that of its companion, nor the net as it had fallen somewhat back in the other's escape.

The mer's face was wide, round; bisected by dual colored scales in a shape that reminded you of a crescent moon. Light yellow on one side, orange on the other. Pale eyes stared unblinkingly at you. And its maw twitched, like it couldn't decide whether to keep its mouth shut or twist into a snarl.

"Go," you whispered, mindlessly flapping a hand in the direction of the ocean. Where the other mer had fled.

Unless… it couldn't. The other mer had pulled itself out of the as soon as it had an opening, but was if this one was still tangled? Or hurt? You rocked onto your heels and crept half a step closer to the mer. Not that it would understand, you couldn't help but ask: "Are you okay?"

The mer tossed its head in response, flicking an array of fins that hung around the circumference of its face. You froze in place, sat back on your haunches. The creature lifted itself on spindly arms and heaved its upper half (Humanoid-- maybe sleeker, narrower-- but so familiar to your own) up, out of the fishing net. The mer pulled itself across the sand like a sea lion, walking on its arms as the rest of its long, sinewy body dragged behind. You couldn't help but study the beast; lobed fins marked the transition from torso to tail, and another long fin ran along its spine, leading to a broad tailfin. It had clownfish-like stripes encircling its whole length.

The mer gouged a rut into the beach as it moved. All the while, its gaze never left you, head twisting to look over a shoulder. Like it was studying you as much as you had to it. Even as it reached the water, waves crashing against its chest, it watched. Then it turned its eyes to the ocean. You, too, looked to the horizon. The storm clouds were gone. The sky was clear and beautifully blue.

The mer's head twitched to the side, then hesitated. Without a look back, it splashed into the water and sank into the depths. Gone.

Alone again, you rose to your full height, ignoring the sand glazed over your entire self. You looked out over the ocean. Nothing but settling waves and blue skies. One hand lifted in an empty wave.

You wake up to the sound of watery warbling. Again.

If this had been three months ago, when you'd first stepped up to "temporarily" take over your aging uncle's position as the island's lighthouse keeper, you would've been out of your mind with worry.

And you were, back then. So much so that you were half convinced you'd hallucinated the storm-stranded, clearly inhuman fish man you'd patched up and sent back to sea.

Of course, it would be easier to write the whole thing off as a bit too much salt water to the senses if said fishy individual didn't keep winding up on your shore.

The first time you found the fish-tailed fibber back on the rocky beach, you were both flabbergasted and terrified. After all, this was the same creature that, not even a week prior, had almost ripped a chunk out of you for daring to approach him.

Sure, he was injured and you were a potentially-dangerous stranger. But frankly, if he hadn't been covered in wounds and disorientated from dehydration, you're pretty sure he would have made good on his hissed-out threats.

And just because you'd managed to survive an encounter with him once didn't mean you'd be so lucky next time…

So, you'd spent a long while simply staring at the merman. And as far as you could tell, he didn't seem to be injured at all. Even the wounds you'd previously treated were gone, leaving nothing but smooth, shiny, scar-free scales in their place.

If half this guy's body wasn't as black as his blood, and the other half as red as the blood he could draw from you, maybe you would've helped him out sooner. Still, at least you could go to sleep that night knowing that, after one small, genuine-enough sounding request for assistance from the Mer, you helped him find his way back home.

But then he came back again. And again. And, you guessed it, again.

By the third time around you'd had no choice but to be suspicious. The merman—Eclipse, as he'd requested you call him—turned out to be a lot of things. He's big, and frilly, and flashy; not to mention a bit of a flirt. But he's also not stupid.

Well, not stupid enough to keep getting stranded by mistake, that is. This is the same guy who had, with full confidence, slither-sprinted down the shore to catch something to "quiet the rumbling of your stomach." All while you were in the middle of dragging his "too weary to move another inch" body off the rocks, at that.

You hadn't accepted the still-writhing fish from his bloody claws. You also hadn't come running to his aid when he'd "accidentally" gotten himself beached again the very next day.

You've been trying to ignore Eclipse and the strange, most likely nefarious game he seems determined to play with you ever since.

Trying being the keyword here.

"Alright, what happened this time?" you girt out as you trudge toward the jerk-fish, anyway. You won't blame yourself for giving in, not when you're positive anyone's resolve would crack after being subjected to two hours of this overgrown guppy's moaning and groaning.

"Why, could that be the grouchy grumblings of my sweet Starfish, here to heroically rescue me at long last?" the fish man croons as you come into view. Sharp teeth flash from behind grinning lips, that flat, circular head of his tilting far too coyly for him to actually be in distress.

You don't even blink before cutting to the chase.

"I told you I'm not playing this game anymore, Eclipse."

"Ah, yes, you did mention something along those lines," Eclipse hums, the ray-like fins on his head drooping in an entirely unconvincing display of guilt. "And while I would love to do nothing more than to fulfill each and every request your darling heart desires, I'm afraid today I've found myself, well…"

"Well…?"

Pouting like a kicked puppy, the merman lifts his tail. Halfway into its arch, it jerks back toward the ground, as though someone's trying to keep it from moving. Or, you suppose as you get a closer look at the problem, something.

"As you can see, I've unfortunately found myself a bit tied up at the moment," Eclipse finishes with a flick of his captured tail fins.

"And just how did you manage to do that?" you question, honestly a little impressed at this latest attempt for your attention. Because he's gotten himself stuck good this time, like tangled up in a massive net kind of good.

As you do a loop around Eclipse, you can also just barely spot one of the net's fishing floats wedged firmly between the rocks he lies upon. Even if the merman did initially plan this whole thing to get your attention, he's definitely stuck beyond what even a creature as strong as him could get out of alone.

So, you are going to have to help him again.

Great.

"Oh, please don't set your ire upon me just yet, my pretty Pearl," the flirty fish man croons as he sees your brows furrow. "I assure you, if I had the desire to wrap myself up like a present for you, it would not be like," he tugs his tail upward more insistently, tsking as the net holds strong, "this."

"Is that so?" you snort, more than a little amused to see him knocked down a peg or two. "Well then, if you promise not to bite me, claw me, drown me, or snuff me out in any other way or form, I think I can get you out of this thing before you dry up entirely."

"Why, I would never even dream of harming you, my Starfish," Eclipse objects, hand dramatically pressed to his heart. Though, he does at least have the decency to look a bit abashed as your skeptical expression only grows. "Ah, that is, I would never dream of it again."

"Mhm..."

Spinning on your heels, you march back up to your supposedly temporary home without another word. Having gone through this song and dance before, albeit it without something you've had to cut through before, you snatch up your first ad kit, an empty bucket, and one of the bigger knives from your kitchen.

Is the kit unnecessary this go around? Most likely, yeah. Do you expect Eclipse to complain about not having his fictional wounds tended to if you don't take it with you? Without a single doubt in your mind, yes.

You're greeted with a saccharine whistle as you shamble back toward the mermen. You ignore him, and that menacing grin of his ticks down into a frown.

After a few trips with your bucket to the sea and back to keep this overgrown fish from drying out, you give the net a more thorough examination. It's about as stuck as you'd thought it'd be, its ropes so thick you have a feeling you're going to be working on this for hours. With only Eclipse to keep you company.

Lovely.

Don't get you wrong, it's not like you despise the guy or anything. Nah, once he's done dragging you into whatever scheme he's cooked up, he's actually quite the pleasant conversation partner.

He asks about you, your likes and interests, and you often find yourself in a good enough mood to do the same. Plus, he's more than willing to share all sorts of interesting tales about his life in the sea. And frankly, after spending months on this lonely hunk of rocks with almost nothing to do, its been nice. Really nice.

It's just… Why would someone as interesting as him keep coming back here?

It would be wonderful to have a friend to keep you company, you aren't denying that. But Eclipse's motivations are about as fishy as he smells. Which is a lot.

So, rationally speaking you really shouldn't be so careless around a stranger, let alone one that could only be playing with you until he gets bored. Or hungry.

Your knife slips between the netting, regardless, held with all the care in the world as you make the first cut.

"Sooo," Eclipse drawls out when the silence between you two stretches on for a bit too long.

"Sooo?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you've found anyone to take over your position here yet?" Eclipse hums, picking at the grains of sands between his rocky prison. "I'd just about given up hope that you were still here at all, after the first hour my songs went ignored."

Your brow furrows. "And why do you ask?"

"I'm simply curious, my Pearl. You did seem fairly upset about it when we last spoke."

"Ah, yeah, I guess I was." You sigh, setting the knife down so your hands can have a break. "No, I haven't gotten any news of them finding a permanent keeper yet. And I doubt I will anytime soon, either. Like I said last time, no one wants this crappy job."

"Then why don't you leave?" Eclipse asks, his expression turning expectant as he focuses solely on you. "What is there here that keeps you from simply walking away from it all?"

"The lighthouse meant a lot to my uncle," you state instantly in that same confident, if not slightly naive, tone as when you'd first promised to take care of the island in his stead. "I'd feel awful abandoning the place he loved so much."

"Oh, is that all?" Eclipse replies, pouting petulantly.

You fetch another bucket of water to splash him in the face with.

"What, were you expecting a different answer?" you snicker as you watch the merman splutters.

Eclipse simply harrumphs, crossing his arms as he turns away from you. Maybe feeling a teeny, tiny shred of guilt, you make the call to go grab lunch.

That toothy grin of his returns when you set a bucket of newly purchased fish by his side. You, uh, had told him pretty early on in your strange relationship that you don't exactly care for seafood…

Eclipse, mercifully, leaves you be as you finish your own meal. Your adventures in amateur net-cutting goes about the same, Eclipse seemingly content to watch you while you work.

It's not until you're halfway up his tail, the elbows you were using to support yourself slipping against his sleek skin, that his gaze sharpens like a knife.

You reel back instantly, hissing as you see the angry, blood cuts your mistake has left on your fingers. Your breath morphs into a stilted gasp as you see the merman reaching for you.

You lift the knife between you two, yelping as his fist captures yours in an immovable vice. You thrash, shifting your legs underneath you to try and get them close enough to kick Eclipse away— But then he moves to cradle your wounded hand so gently in his, as though you're the most precious, fragile thing in the world.

You let him take the knife from you, and that genuinely distraught look on his face morphs into a reassuring smile.

"Everything's okay, my Pearl, see?" Eclipse breathes, reaching for the first aid kit. He swaps it for the knife before returning to you, dropping it just out of your reach.

You nod, too stunned to object, and the merman trills out an especially happy sound.

You watch on as Eclipse uses those sharp, deadly claws of his to carefully bandage your wound. He doesn't skip a single step, even wincing sympathetically as he applies disinfectant to your stinging cuts.

Only when he's warped up your injury as much as anyone possibly could do you pull away. Your hand still aches, but there's also a soft, warm sensation there now, too.

"Um, t-thank you," you mumble, looking his work over so you don't have to see those startlingly disarming eyes of his. "You, uh… you did good."

"Of course, my clumsy little Starfish. It was my pleasure." Eclipse's smile tilts to the side when you still fail to look at him. "Although I do wish you would not distrust me so much. I'm not one for lying, my Pearl, especially not when I've promised something as important as your safety."

"Why do you care so much what I think about you?" you sigh, finally lifting your eyes. "You asked me why I stay here, what I want to know is why you keep coming back."

Eclipse's head cocks to the side, and you get ready for another one of his quippy retorts. You squeak as he plucks up your injured hand, instead, guiding it to rest just underneath his lips.

"I return because I have someone worth coming back to. Is that… objectionable to you?"

"Uh." Your gaze darts between his eyes and your hands, looking for any sign that he's messing with you, that this is all one big joke to him. "I guess not…?"

"Wonderful," Eclipse simpers, his teeth flashing as he gives you an almost blinding smile. Lips press against your hand before it's returned to you, a musical chuckle leaving the merman as you sit there staring at him in utter shock.

"Well, my dear, as much as I'd love to keep being doted on by you," Eclipse continues, twisting around to grab hold of the net. "It would look quite bad on my character if I were to let you continue on with that injury of yours. And I do believe I'm quite inclined to keep you seeing me at my best, hm?"

You blink rapidly as Eclipse angles his claws above the netting, his sharp digits slicing through the ropes with ease. You mouth parts on an offended objection. It comes out as an amused sigh in the end.

You don't think you can find it in yourself to mind. Not when this persistent companion of yours looks back at you as though there's nowhere else he'd rather be.