#oiao

He still remembered the first time he and Aone had met. The ship had been blown astray by a storm and Tooru, out on his first solo hunt, had been all too happy to lure it in toward the rocks. But then the ship had veered away. Aone, unable to hear Tooru’s song, had saved his crew and his ship single-handedly. Tooru had been impressed, to say the least, and bitter. He’d followed the ship to a little inlet where it dropped anchor and the crew set out to explore the island. Tooru had watched the captain clap Aone on the back and do something with his hands that Aone seemed to understand, though to Tooru it was just a bunch of waving and finger-twisting. Everyone on the crew had left the ship then, except for Aone.

Tooru smiled to himself, thinking of the way he had approached the ship, more curious than mad at that point. He’d gotten all the way up onto the deck before Aone noticed him, drawing his sword and letting out a bleat of surprise.

“Hey now, there’s no need for that,” Tooru had said, letting honey and sugar coat his voice. It should have made Aone drop the sword immediately. It should have. But Aone kept ahold of his sword and his wits, advancing on Tooru with a menacing look in his eye. It was the first time Tooru had genuinely feared for his life.

Aone must have seen that fear in his eyes, because he had put away the sword and cocked his head curiously. Tooru had opened his mouth to try again, but just at that moment he had heard the sounds of the crew returning. Aone saw the turn of his head and turned to look as well. When he saw the others, panic had flooded his eyes and he had unsheathed his sword again. Tooru had thrown his hands in the air just as the captain and several of the others made it up onto the deck.

“What’s going on here?” the captain had cried.

“Tell him I mean no harm,” Tooru had insisted. The captain had grabbed Aone by the arm and done the waving-finger-twisting thing again, but Aone had not relented. He had waved back at the captain, who had turned to Tooru.

“How do we know we’re not under your thrall?” the captain had asked. Tooru had rolled his eyes.

“You’d all be dead by now,” he’d said. The captain’s eyes had widened and he had waved something frantically to Aone. The conversation had gone on for several minutes while other members of the crew stood about in various states of unease. Finally, Aone had sheathed his sword and the captain had turned to Tooru.

“Why are you here?” he had asked.

“Curiosity,” Tooru had replied. “Why can’t he speak?”

“He’s Deaf,” the captain had said.

“Can you teach me to communicate with him?” Tooru hadn’t been sure why he was asking, but a part of him desperately wanted to talk to Aone, to find out more about him. There had been something soft in the captain’s eyes, like he had known exactly what was going to happen. He’d nodded and the rest of the crew had gone about their business.

It had been a long few weeks that they had docked at the island, gathering supplies and teaching Tooru how to sign. Tooru had learned Aone’s name, and the names of each of the crew, and in turn had taught them about his people. He did what no siren was ever supposed to do; he taught the human pirates how to resist their thrall. And in return, the Iron Wall made the island her home port, building up a fortress out of the trees and stone they found there.

Tooru was delighted. The other sirens, not so much, but they eventually came to accept their new neighbors, thanks to the gifts the Iron Wall brought back from far away for them. And every now and then, a rival group would follow the Iron Wall into siren waters and they would feast.

As time went on, Tooru and Aone grew close. Closer than close. With every word Tooru learned in Aone’s silent language, he found himself falling deeper and deeper.

Which was why it was so irritating that the Iron Wall hadn’t been back in so long. This was their home, wasn’t it? Weren’t they supposed to come back every now and then? Tooru huffed to himself as he stared out at the horizon, waiting for Aone to return so that he could finally tell him how he felt. There would be no more beating around the bush, no more pretending he wasn’t completely head-over-heels for Aone and his gentle personality. He would march right up to Aone and demand to be loved in return.

Or he would, if the ship would ever show up. Tooru stared at the line where sea met sky, and his heart skipped a beat. There was something there, something small and far away, but definite and true. Tooru could just barely make out the shape of a ship.