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Chapter Text

On his rare days off, Makoto’s father used to take her down to the pier at the far end of the port to fish. A rickety old thing, worn wood squeaking under every step. She would carry a picnic basket always full of supplies, snacks, and maybe a book or two, trailing after the heavy thumping boots of her father.

They’d take a seat at the end of the pier, feet dangling over the edge side by side. Makoto would watch the waves lapping at the wooden beams, waiting for her father to set up their fishing gear.

He’d never let her wait for long, handing her the bucket of writhing bait. He taught her how to best tie fish hooks, set crab traps, and to throw nets off the pier, all before the sun reached the horizon.

Makoto hated it.

She hated waking up to cold, dark, early mornings. Hated piercing slimy worms on a hook. Hated that this was how her father wanted to spend his infrequent days at home. Hated that he would undoubtedly leave her again.

But more than that, she loved him. So Makoto would prepare her basket the night before, set aside clothes she didn’t mind getting dirty, and wake up hours before the sun without complaint. All so she could spend more time with him.

And as they sat there lines cast, he would tell her stories. Of life aboard a navy vessel, of the many far away places he’d sailed to, people he met, strange sights he’d seen. Of sirens, one of the worst sea monsters, whose enchanting songs could bewitch both man and wave. Luring innocent sailors to their deaths and commanding storms to sink their fleets.

If Makoto stared at the dark ocean beneath the pier for too long, phantom creatures would flicker in the miniscule lantern light. Terrible monsters rose from the depths, long bodies circling like sharks. Clad in armored scales and mouths full of sharp sea glass, they prowled near the surface ready to gobble up a little girl like her.

Makoto wanted to fearfully pull back. To leave the pier and never return, afraid of the somethings hiding beneath the waves, but her father never let her retreat too far.

“The sea can be as wild and dangerous as it is beautiful,” he warned her. “Never turn your back on it, for one day, it might try to drown you.”

Then he’d distract Makoto from her fear by teaching her how to tie various sailing knots or some other skill picked up on a ship. Lessons that Sis dismissed as useless. Stories that Makoto took to heart.

She loved her father and thanks to him, she learned to love the sea. Years later, Makoto still loved that beautiful blue even after it took him away for good.

No one goes down to the old pier anymore, not since the new ones were built. No one except Makoto.

She stood across from the tent entrance, two tickets in hand. Sis had yet to show up. The traveling troupe was not quite a circus and not quite a collection of curiosities. The barker trying to lure passerbys in often used the term ‘freak show’ to which Makoto grimaced.

This was not her ideal afternoon activity. She would rather spend this time productively, though Makoto supposed this was a chance to broaden her horizons some. But a freak show? Really?

To her palpable surprise, it was Sis who invited her to go, muttering something about a coworker gifting the tickets. It would be a waste to not use them. Surely. Though judging from the outside, it didn’t appear to cost much. So here Makoto stood, waiting at the promised time for her Sis to meet her.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited. Sis had yet to show up.

Feeling the fault lines in her heart fracture a little deeper, Makoto shoved one of the two tickets into her bag and trudged to the entrance alone. The barker likely recognized the girl who stood across the street for god knows how long, but he thankfully didn’t acknowledge that and ushered Makoto in.

Nothing inside surprised her. A horse with a fake horn, a man covered in tattoos that looked painted on, so-called oddities collected from around the world. It was somewhat entertaining, but nothing here was real. Without the backdrop and the showman’s bravado, each act would fall apart. Ballooned to appease the public with illusions, this false magic failed to bewitch her.

Until she saw him.

“Step right up ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for! A dangerous creature captured off the coast of a far distant sea, luring ships of all sizes to their watery grave,” the showman regaled. He stood before a large box covered by a purple sheet. “For your safety, please stand back as I present to you a monster like no other, the siren!”

Drawing the sheet off in a flourish, the crowd gasped in horrified unison. Trapped in a glass tank, a boy, but not a boy, was cramped inside. Pale skin gave way to dull black scales around his hips that seamlessly transitioned into a large fish-like tail. Fins pressed up against the glass and folded over like limp seaweed.

A shiver ran down Makoto’s spine. The imaginary monsters her mind conjured as a child now sat before her in the flesh. The stories of her father come to life in a creature as wild and dangerous as the sea.

At first she assumed another hoax, but couldn’t deny the tank was filled with water and the lid bolted shut. This boy, a siren, had no space to move, barely able to fit inside a tank too small for his size. She couldn’t see his face, hidden beneath the tangled mat of hair and scale coated arms.

The showman continued his speech and, noticing the siren’s listlessness or the crowd’s growing murmurs of disbelief, rapped the glass with his cane. The siren didn’t budge. He banged louder and angry gray eyes lifted to glare at the man before turning away again.

But that one reaction was enough to drive the audience aghast.

A man-eating monster! How terrible! It deserves to be locked away!

As the crowd moved to the next area, Makoto lingered as long as she was able, staring at the siren. He looked absolutely miserable trapped within the too small tank for strangers to gawk at. She would be, too.

Did no one else notice that? Did no one else care?

With one last backward glance, Makoto spotted a thick metal collar adorning the siren’s neck and a multitude of scratches covering the surrounding skin. A desperate fight for freedom carved into his own flesh.

The siren was treated worse than a dog. Like man could own and control a piece of the sea, preserving turbulent waves as they do a ship in a bottle. But she had glimpsed the storm raging in his eyes when he glared at the showman. Ever wild, ever dangerous, and yearning to be free.

He haunted her. A tempest of gray followed Makoto in her dreams and in drifting thoughts throughout the day. An unwelcome distraction her teachers and peers picked up on.

This is unlike you. Poor dear, are you sick? You should go to bed earlier.

Head underwater, she was drowning in a fishtank lost at sea. Searching blindly for the salvation of a lighthouse, but caught by the raging gray. Makoto wondered if the siren had somehow bewitched her, a power that supposedly occurred through their alluring song, but he had barely moved let alone noticed her existence.

She pictured the collar choking him like a noose. He couldn’t sing with it on, a necessary safeguard for the staff and guests of course, but then how did he eat? Was he able to breathe? Makoto deemed the answer ‘not well’ to both questions.

For all her musings and speculations, she couldn’t fathom why thoughts of the siren plagued her for days on end or why she bothered over his well-being at all. He was the embodiment of her father’s nightmarish stories. Of unknowable creatures with too many teeth preying upon mankind. A monster that the world would be better without.

But her mind traitorously pictured his pitiful form stuffed in that tank. A force of the ocean trapped as a prisoner on land and touted around in a common sideshow. An oddity for amusement.

The dissonance of her father’s stories versus what she saw–the gap between expectation and reality–filled Makoto with unease. She should be happy there was one less monster in the sea! One less nightmare creeping up from the depths. Why worry over inhumane conditions for something inhuman?

Makoto could not stop fiddling with the leftover ticket tucked safely in her pocket.

The same barker crowed the same spiel at the same spot.

Come one, come all! For a limited time only! Master Madarame’s Museum!

Makoto thumbed over the ticket in hand. Sis hadn’t wanted it back nor was she interested in any talk about the exhibits. Makoto could do away with the ticket however she pleased and yet she found herself lured back by the siren’s silent call. She compiled a multitude of excuses–a list of reasons to justify time wasted here. Lies as legitimate as the frauds running the sideshows.

In the depths of her heart, Makoto knew the simple, unbelievable truth. She wanted to see him again. Drawn to the secrets of the sea and a boy stuck behind glass.

Just like last time, the siren kept his face hidden from view, head down between crossed arms. Fins and scales resembling gauntlets acted like a stalwart embankment protecting him from the flood of attention. His only armor. Enduring the waves vying to tear him apart, to reveal a bewitching beauty or grotesque creature, he sat indifferent to the noise outside of his cell.

The public did not care about the parts of him resembling a human, they were here for the sea monster. They wanted the tail, the savagery, the otherness, and the siren refused to give them the satisfaction. But Makoto wasn’t here for the spectacle. This time she looked at him, really looked at him. The boy behind the scales. The person inside the monster.

His pallid skin tone came across as sickly, like he never saw a day of sun. A stark contrast to the dull black fish scales crawling up his torso. In fact, she could spot scale deterioration and gaps on his tail. A sure sign of negligent care if his visible ribs weren’t proof enough. While she couldn’t tell based on his scrunched-up position, his lack of mobility presumably pointed to some degree of muscular atrophy as well.

In summary, the siren was being horribly mistreated. While also offering derelict conditions, jails were often more accommodating than this. Indignation coursed through her veins hot and white. Makoto raised her hand, interrupting the showman’s over dramatic speech.

“How does he eat with the collar on?”

“How often do you change his water?”

“Does he have a larger tank in the back?”

“What’s his name?”

The showman grit his teeth in a strained smile. “It doesn’t have one.”

Staff were quick to escort the crowd out, perhaps worried others would mistake the siren as man instead of monster. In the disorderly shuffle to the door, Makoto dragged her feet buying precious few seconds and looked at him one last time. Storm gray eyes met hers through the glass.

Disorderly thoughts spun in circles like whirlpools. Whenever the ship of Makoto’s mind escaped a vortex, another ensnared it just as quickly. Sailing through an endless gray storm, the siren relentlessly pursued her sanity. For once, Makoto was grateful Sis would not be coming home tonight if only to avoid explaining why she was a muddle-headed mess.

She had hoped to find closure or some satisfactory answer to the churning questions she lacked the proper words to convey. To quell the anxiety brewing in her heart. This visit only worsened Makoto’s affliction instead.

He saw her.

The siren’s guarded gray eyes, alight with intelligence beyond what a mere beast was capable of, inspected Makoto. Curiosity glittered in pools of suspicion, and, dare she say, the briefest spark of hope.

Did the deviations in the showman’s script compel him to look? Did he understand her questions? Hear her underlying concern?

Makoto’s heart howled at the injustice. At the blatant disregard of another’s life, human or not. Her father taught her every aspect of the ocean deserved respect and that included monsters of the deep. The disappointing yet to be expected answers gained today solidified her opinion on the matter.

Tossing and turning like waves out at sea, Makoto could not fall asleep. The phantom intensity of the siren's stare refused to leave. He enthralled her not with song, but with sickly scales and protruding ribs. A fish locked in a birdcage and forced not to sing.

He needed help. Help a powerless nobody like Makoto could not provide. As much as she hated it, stewing over dead end possibilities, there was nothing Makoto could reasonably do to save the siren. Due to leave any day, the traveling troupe would whisk him beyond her reach before any meaningful petition could be made.

Throwing off the covers and tossing on warmer clothes, Makoto made a beeline for the door, grabbing a lantern on the way. In the brisk early morning air, the quiet hours few souls braved to see, she started her trek to the old pier. A safe haven of solitude where Makoto let her worries drift out to sea to the calm lapping of waves.

Her feet knew the path. Carved into her heart, she could navigate to the pier blindfolded, but her normally sure steps stuttered. Hesitant. Indecisive.

The siren’s song called to her. A haunting, mournful melody only perceived by the righteous echoed through the misty streets. It tugged on her soul, redirecting Makoto to the tent.

He needed her. More than Makoto imagined possible.

Stranded ashore in the wake of a shipwreck, the siren fought to right a tipped over cart and his breath. The loathsome collar obstructed the oxygen he struggled to gulp down, drowning him on land. An impossible scenario unfolding before Makoto's very eyes.

A scant few blocks away from his prison, somehow, someway, the siren escaped. Breaking out of the locked tank and wheeling away in a wooden cart seemed outside of a debilitated ocean dweller’s skillset. Perhaps there was another who sympathized with his plight and now it was Makoto's turn to aid in his getaway.

Noticing the lantern light, the siren went still, shrinking back into the shadows of the fallen cart. His labored wheezing was audible over her approaching footsteps in the empty street.

Kneeling a safe distance away, Makoto gently soothed as she would a wounded animal, “It’s okay, it’s okay. I want to help you.”

The siren hissed, baring shark teeth and flared fins in a frightening display cut short by strangled coughing. The exhaustion in his shaking limbs betrayed his bluff. Severely weakened by captivity, his daring escape wouldn’t realize the dream of freedom on the open sea. Not unless she had anything to say about it.

Righting his wooden cart–sincerely impressed he had made it this far on his own–she offered her hand. “I promise to return you to the sea.”

Gray eyes darted between Makoto and the cart, calculating the risk, puzzling out her intent. She patiently waited for the siren’s decision, admiring his very human face fully revealed for the first time.

A smattering of scales decorated his cheek bones, glinting in the light. Pointed ears and fins peeked out of his unruly hair. If not for the aquatic traits, he could very well be a human boy about her age.

Shifting her weight, the absentminded movement changed the shadows cast on her face by the lantern. In the light of the flickering flame, recognition finally dawned in the siren’s eyes. Gray met red without a barrier.

He saw her.

Apparently deciding to trust a familiar face, the siren turned to the cart and feebly tried to heave himself back on. Makoto rushed in to help without thinking, only realizing the severity of her mistake when he grabbed her. Webbed claws wrapped around her arm, but he didn’t hurt her. Didn’t dig in nor push away, just used her to steady his wobbly self.

Over the pounding of her heart, it took Makoto a few seconds to find her voice and move. “I’ve got you. Let me help.”

With deliberately slow movements, she put down the lantern and snaked an arm under his tail. The siren didn’t protest her touch, obviously winded, but shifted uncomfortably in her hold.

Scooping him into her arms, Makoto’s heart clenched anew–he was far too light for someone of his size. Carefully arranging him in the cart, fingers lingering on scales a few seconds longer than necessary, Makoto let her feet carry her to the old pier, siren in tow.

The wooden planks squeaked and groaned under their convoy. The pitch black of the ocean, an empty void, stretched into infinity around them. As a little girl, Makoto feared the monsters hiding in the dark–she still did–yet now she wheeled one to the very spot her father first spoke of them.

Out here beneath the stars just before the sun was set to rise, out here in the salty sea air and gentle swell of waves, out here where memories of her father lingered strongest, Makoto was home. And so was he.

Enthralled by the endless black, the siren clamored to escape, blindly reaching for his promised freedom. He froze under Makoto’s hand, though his eyes remained glued to the sea as she easily lifted and carried him the final few steps. Diving into the waves, the siren vanished into the night. A piece of Makoto’s heart unknowingly went with him.

Waking to the late afternoon sun, the events of the night prior felt like a dream. It could have been a dream. The unassuming wooden wagon stowed behind the house proved otherwise to Makoto’s swelling excitement.

She wanted nothing more than to race down to the old pier and see him again. Realistically, he was gone–most likely returned to deeper waters. That would be for the best, but a small candle of hope burned.

Forcing herself to get some chores and studying done proved frustratingly futile. Her antsy mind refused to cooperate in a manner worse than before. At least in her daydreams of gray, Makoto floated through life capable of performing basic tasks without much thought. Now she fought her focus like a fish on a hook.

Making a trip to the market to burn off restless energy–any excuse to go outside, to be one step closer to the pier–Makoto kept her ears open to the latest gossip for news of the siren’s disappearance.

The Governor’s declaration against pirates. What nice weather we’re having. The travelling troupe is leaving?

Arms filled with groceries, Makoto took a long detour past the tent and sure enough, the entrance was closed. She didn’t see anyone present, but hurried on in case someone recognized the girl who stood outside and asked too many questions. They likely wouldn’t leave for a few more days.

Finally as early evening approached, with practiced efficiency Makoto prepared her fishing gear. Rod and tackle, bait and bucket, she was out the door before Sis came home. Boots clunking on the old pier, her eyes swept across waves searching for any hint of black scales or fins. No siren.

Casting out her line, she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

No siren. No bites either. Her heart sank a little more, but Makoto reasoned she should be happy. She played her part in his rescue and the siren was back where he belonged.

Yet the expected pride of such an accomplishment evaded her. Instead a hollowness sucked away any feelings of joy and sense of closure. Like there was something more, something she was missing. That this couldn't be the end.

As the stars came out to play, Makoto solemnly packed her gear. Not even a nibble on her line during the hours wasted to add insult to injury. Yet in her pail lay a single fish bought at the market. A present for the scrawny boy Makoto longed to see.

Sighing at her own stubborn wishfulness, Makoto left that fish at the edge of the pier. An offering for some hungry animal to exploit. She could already hear Sis scolding her for waste–time, money, and food. A useless endeavor for some childish fantasy.

Berating herself each step up the pier, a splash broke Makoto's spiraling thoughts. Whipping around, the coast was clear. Makoto stood alone. No siren. But more importantly, no fish.

After school ended for the day and all her responsibilities cleared, Makoto went to the market to buy another fish. Then collecting her rod and changing to better suited working clothes, she returned to the old pier long before the sun was due to set. The traveling troupe was still in town and Makoto would not risk going anywhere near the ocean without cover.

Having brought some coursework and reading materials with her ensured the hours whittled away at the pier would be spent productively. Sis couldn’t reprimand her for wasting time. Able to concentrate once again in school and on anything non-siren related, Makoto’s mood drastically improved and she resumed her studies as her normal self.

An epiphany occurred to her staring at the empty end of the pier the other night. Meeting the siren was a lot like fishing, requiring both patience and perseverance. Accepting a failed attempt did not equate to admitting defeat.

The sun crawled toward the horizon. Stars winked into the sky. No siren.

Once again, Makoto packed her belongings, left the purchased fish at the pier’s end, and walked away. Once again, a splash and the offering vanished.

This pattern continued throughout the week with Makoto arriving at whatever time she was able and staying as long as she reasonably could.

On the final day before the weekend, a day Sis said she wouldn’t be home, Makoto brought her lantern and allowed herself to enjoy a rare bout of night fishing. With the sun gone, nocturnal fish nibbled at her hook and Makoto hauled in more catches than she had all week.

Relishing the peaceful rolling waves and cool night, she cast all her troubles away. School obligations, housework, Sis’ expectations, sirens, Makoto let it all dissipate like seafoam.

Breathing in the sweet, salty air, this was where she was meant to be. Sitting at the end of the old pier, Makoto was home.

When the wind chill finally set in and her bucket was full, she kept only two of her catches, opting to leave the rest behind. Listening to the creak of wooden planks beneath her boots, the telltale splash Makoto had been waiting for cut through the night.

Turning around expecting an empty pier, she was blessed with a sight like no other. Sitting in her vacated spot, the siren watched her. Ethereal beneath the moonlight, he stole Makoto’s breath away as the full force of her father’s words echoed in her heart. A piece of the sea as wild and dangerous as he was beautiful.

Never turn your back to him.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Makoto sent a silent prayer and apology to her father.

“I’ll bring you more tomorrow,” she promised the siren.

He made no sign of acknowledgment.

Ignoring the most important rule, Makoto turned her back on the ocean and walked away.

She hated waking up to cold, dark, early mornings. Hated forfeiting the warmth of her bed. Hated sacrificing a rare day to sleep in.

But more than that, she was curious. The siren finally revealed himself, a reward for her tenacity, and excitement drummed in her heart. So Makoto gathered her fishing gear, loaded the fish she saved from the night prior, and made her way to the old pier before the sun rose without complaint. All so she could see him again.

Theirs was a relationship slowly building on patience and a desire Makoto couldn’t articulate. Whatever this was, she wished to see it through to the end.

Arriving just as light breached the horizon, she set up her fishing gear as usual, but placed the fish offering to her side an arm's length away. Casting out her line, it didn’t take long for her serene solitude to be broken.

Hiding behind one of the wooden posts extending below the water line, the siren peered up at Makoto. Catching his eye, she smiled, patted the empty space next to her, and turned away. Once again breaking her father’s rule.

Water splashed and she still didn’t look. Wooden boards squeaked and Makoto purposely kept her eyes glued to her line. Silence permeated and she no longer sensed movement.

Inhaling a deep breath, Makoto finally faced the siren. Stormy gray eyes warily flit between her and her gift. Under the early morning rays, this was the first time she had seen him so completely.

His tail extended longer than expected, something of a cross between fish and eel. Black scales were brighter and his overall complexion better, but he was far too thin for her liking.

She wondered if that was simply how sirens were or if he was unable to properly feed himself with that metal collar still choking him. Given how he eyed the fish, he seemed starved.

Makoto gestured to it. “It’s all yours.”

The siren stared a little longer at her then shuffled closer, reaching with inhuman hands for the fish. Webbing between fingers extended to the last joint, leaving dexterous finger tips that ended in claws.

She watched him use those claws to tear the fish into small pieces, digging out the raw flesh bit by bit. Seeing him in action, it was obvious the thick collar did hinder his ability to eat, making it difficult to swallow even the smallest of morsels. It was highly probable he completely relied on whatever Makoto left for him in order to survive this past week.

Her grip on the rod tightened, blood boiling at the thought. Even after escaping, the siren was not yet free. Her eyes narrowed in on fresh cuts decorating the small portion of his uncovered neck, showcasing his struggle trying to remove it.

Perhaps this was why Makoto couldn’t settle down. Why she couldn’t stop thinking about him. His continued suffering, the blatant abuse, the injustice of it all, her heart roared in righteous fury.

A tug on her line stole Makoto’s attention away and she utilized fighting the fish as a healthy outlet for her anger. Tossing her flailing prize into a bucket, Makoto placed it between herself and the siren. Another offering. And in that moment, a vow to take care of him as long as he needed the help.

As she cast her line out again, the siren finished his painstakingly slow meal. Polishing off the first fish, he tossed the skeletal remains into the ocean and reached for Makoto’s newest catch without hesitation. Spearing it on his claws, he tore into its still moving body in the same manner as before.

The sun rose higher in the sky and though Makoto didn’t land another fish, the siren remained. He sat with her on the old pier in silent company, making no move to approach or leave.

His eyes roamed over her figure, up her fishing rod and back down taking in every detail. Not at all in a malicious or perverted way–he seemed genuinely curious of her. For all his time in a tank treated as a spectacle, Makoto supposed he deserved the opportunity to observe a human at his leisure in return.

And she was just as guilty, openly studying him as well. He fascinated her. A sea monster straight out of a child’s bedtime story, yet so human in appearance. A quiet and broken boy, wild and beautiful and fighting for survival.

While he was less wary now, his guard remained up judging from the tension in his shoulders. After experiencing such cruelty from humanity, this fragile trust he placed in her wouldn’t be taken for granted. She would gladly extend her patience and cultivate this budding connection.

“I’m Makoto. Do you have a name?”

He startled at her voice, then tilted his head ever so slightly. Did he not understand human speech?

She pointed to herself. “Makoto.”

His eyes lit up in understanding. The siren copied her motion, pointing a webbed finger at Makoto and wordlessly mouthed her name.

“Yes,” she smiled and nodded.

He smiled and nodded back.

There was no way to tell if he actually understood or was simply copying her, but she pressed on.

“Makoto.” She pointed at herself, then pointed at him. “Your name?”

The siren frowned at that, tail slapping the pier twice. He pointed at himself and shook his head. A clear no.

Makoto’s eyebrows shot up, though she wasn’t sure which was more surprising. The fact he did understand some human body language, perhaps learned from his time in captivity, or that he didn’t have a name. Eyeing the metal collar that was definitely too tight, it might be a matter of physically being unable to communicate.

“Okay then.” It didn’t feel right to keep referring to him as ‘the siren’ and he probably wouldn’t like that either. “How about I give you a name? At least something for me to call you by.”

His eyebrows pinched a little as he stared at Makoto blankly. Right. Words he didn’t understand.

Let’s see, what would be a good name? Something simple and short for easier comprehension. Maybe a word he would already be familiar with, but it was doubtful he knew any human names.

Makoto once again pointed at him. “Ren.”

Ren the siren. On second thought that sounded bad–a remarkably uncreative name. But the siren’s eyes shined and he repeated after her, mouthing his new name with a shark tooth smile.

He pointed at her. Makoto. Then to himself. Ren.

Makoto returned at sunset armed with a crab trap instead of her trusty fishing pole, and a bucket of fish.

“Ren, are you there?” she called, setting down her load.

No siren.

Refusing to be discouraged, Makoto got to work baiting the trap with leftover fish scraps cut out from an early dinner. She really hoped Sis wouldn't bother to question her continued disappearances.

As she looped the cord around one of the pier’s posts, a head emerged from the water.

“Ren!” Makoto beamed.

He stared at the trap sitting on the pier and refused to approach. Was he afraid of a new object? Ren must have seen these before, Makoto knew for a fact people deployed some around the main docks daily.

Although, she paused to look at hers, from a siren’s perspective, one who was somehow caught by humans, what did it appear as?

Hers was nothing fancy. A simple collapsible trap of netting held in a rectangle shape by stained wood. Smaller and less study than the more common varieties used by professional fishermen, but it worked well enough.

“This is a crab trap.” She held it up for Ren to see better and mimed pinching claws. “They enter through here–” Makoto wiggled her fingers through the one way gap in the netting– “for the bait.” She pointed to the fish scraps tied inside.

Ren swam closer.

“Crab.” Pinching claws. “Trap.” Makoto lifted it up in emphasis.

He copied her crab claw motion.

“That’s right,” she praised, finding him innocently adorable.

He nodded in reply then heaved himself onto the pier. Makoto let him inspect the trap–better he satisfied his curiosity now than mess with it underwater–and dropped it into the ocean. She showed him the cord tied to the post and demonstrated pulling the trap up. Ren nodded along with her explanation.

Taking a seat, Makoto handed over the bucket of fish to him, however Ren didn’t spear his dinner right away. Instead he pulled out one and pointed to it with his other hand, taking Makoto by surprise.

“Are you asking what it’s called?”

He tilted his head with a slight frown.

“Fish.”

Fish, he mouthed back, flapping his head fins.

Pincher motion. Trace the cord around the post into the ocean.

Crab trap.

Makoto was floored. He was learning. More than that, Ren was learning her language and finding a way to communicate. This was– he was–

He smirked, giving her a clear ‘do you get it?’ look.

In the fading sunlight, black scales cast aflame, Ren glowed with pride and intelligence on par with a human.

Makoto’s stomach somersaulted.

Scouring through library shelves, Makoto breathed in the smell of old books and musty paper. Dust motes floated through the air, only visible when the sunbeams angled through the large windows just right. In the hushed quiet, engrossed between pages of a good read, this was Makoto's second home.

If she learned to love the sea for her father, then she learned to love the library for herself. Makoto could spend hours here and never get bored, normally she would after school, however her current mission took precedence. Skimming the shelves, she searched for any books related to her main objectives.

First and foremost, information on lockpicking. She highly doubted a dubious skill would be readily detailed and assumed a roundabout method of researching the mechanisms behind locks.

While Ren was distracted with food, Makoto noticed a keyhole on the flat side of his metal collar. On further inspection, she realized the collar was actually a repurposed manacle–few alterations needed to shackle tightly around his neck. Absolutely disgusting.

Generally, keys for manacles were of simple shapes with a single bit, but Makoto feared jamming the release or somehow breaking it if she stuck a stick in blind. Thus, extensive research and preparations were required.

Less importantly, she wished to study different modes of communication. Ren couldn’t read or write. Hand gestures only expressed so much, but it was a promising start. If such a visual language did exist, Makoto would learn it together with him.

In the back of her mind, a nagging voice that sounded a lot like Sis argued that Ren would leave once freed. That her extra efforts were useless. Stubbornly, Makoto drowned it beneath the never-ending list of things she needed to accomplish. If she truly wanted to help him, that collar needed to go.

Reading at the old pier with the rhythmic ocean waves as background noise proved to be nearly as soothing as studying in the library when it rained. Open notebook at her side, pencil on standby, all she needed was a desk for optimal ergonomics. It would’ve been far easier to study indoors, Makoto preferred that, but she wanted to spend time with Ren. He needed to be comfortable enough to let Makoto fiddle with the manacle, or so she reasoned.

Ren picked at his meal by her side. A comfortable companionship between completely different worlds. Makoto never had anyone to keep her company without expectations. Sis ignored her on good days, her peers tended to gossip, and teachers always wanted something.

Certainly, Ren relied on Makoto for food and gratefully accepted whatever she brought, but he always stayed afterward. Basking in the sun, listening to her speak, the activity didn’t matter. He relaxed with Makoto on the old pier until she had to leave. Ren enjoyed her company and she, his.

Every day, the space between them dwindled.

Today Makoto brought a fishing net. Ren needed to learn how to escape from one should he ever get caught, preferably before they parted ways. His initial caution with the crab trap and his obvious hesitance to join her on the pier at the sight of the bigger net all but confirmed Makoto’s suspicions.

“We’ll go at your pace,” she said, draping half in the water. “Take a look, this is a fishing net.”

Ren flapped his head fins. Hand curled in a fist, he rolled it in a circular motion pivoting on his wrist and gestured downward.

“What?” Makoto tilted her head frowning, mimicking Ren’s signal for confusion.

He shuffled over to one of the pier posts and repeated the movement with deliberate exaggeration. His fist circled around the post then extended his arm downward like he was tying a knot or looping a rope and dropping the other end into the water.

Seeing Makoto still not following, Ren made a pinching motion.

Crab.

“Crab trap!”

Ren nodded, clearly pleased she understood then repeated his earlier gestures. Head fin flap. Wrist roll, motion down.

Fish trap.

“That’s right, it's a fish trap…” Makoto trailed off, astonished at both his and her own comprehension. But Ren wasn’t done speaking yet.

Point to himself. Head fin flap. Wrist roll, motion down. Neck choke gesture.

“So you were caught in a net.” She sadly nodded her understanding. “Even more reason to practice escaping in a controlled environment.”

They couldn't replicate on land what it was actually like in the ocean–Makoto deemed it too risky to try–but any experience would hopefully give Ren an edge in a worst case scenario. At least to teach him not to panic and tangle himself further.

Motioning for Ren to come closer, he reluctantly listened and examined the netting under Makoto’s careful supervision. His trust in her was not lost.

Clear skies, crying gulls, rolling waves, a beautiful sunny day at the old pier. Ren didn’t answer her call, but Makoto rarely came down at midafternoon, so it wasn’t surprising he ventured away.

She had fashioned a rudimentary lockpick and practiced on her house to frustrating results. Needing a break and a change in scenery, Makoto wandered down to the old pier without thinking.

Newest book in hand, she diligently took notes while absentmindedly kicking her bare feet in the high tide, pants rolled up to just below her knees. Without any form of shade, the cool water provided some relief from the heat. In the solitude of the always empty pier, no one would bother her out this far.

Something brushed the underside of her foot.

Shrieking at the top of her lungs, Makoto scrambled backward, dropping her pencil between the wooden planks. It plopped into the water below, but thankfully nothing else joined its soggy fate.

Gasping for breath and very close to crying out for Sis, she watched Ren nervously poke his head above the wooden boards. So focused on studying, Makoto had missed his greeting splashes.

“Ren, you scared me!”

He frowned, looking worried.

Taking a moment to collect herself, she sighed, “I’m fine.”

He ducked under the pier, visible in the gaps between planks, and returned a few seconds later. Placing her waterlogged pencil on the deck with a guilty expression, he bowed his head.

“Thank you. And I know, it was an accident.”

Moving back to her spot, Makoto patted the pier and smiled to prove she was fine, but Ren remained in the water. Showing no sign of joining her, he continued to stare up through his lashes.

“I promise it's okay.”

Ren shook his head and patted the water’s surface, hesitated, then shook his head again. Floating on his back, he lifted his tail up.

Point to Makoto. Tail wave. Pat water surface.

A light blush dusted her cheeks at Ren’s strange request, assuming she understood correctly, but it made sense. Humans paid money to ogle his tail, amazed by the otherness. Makoto herself studied it almost as much as her books when he curled it by her side. It was something different and Ren was just as curious about her human features.

Gingerly sticking her feet back into the water, she watched Ren dip under and circle, examining her at all angles. It occurred to Makoto that she always wore boots around him. This was likely the first time he ever saw human feet.

Surfacing, Ren made eye contact, tilted his head questioningly, and hovered a webbed hand above her leg. Granting permission with a nod, Makoto involuntarily held her breath.

They were entering uncharted waters. Neither had tried touching the other, not since the night Makoto helped him escape, nor had any accidental brushes. They kept to themselves, staying on their side of the invisible line drawn in the sand. The surprising graze earlier and him asking now signaled Ren was ready to cross that border.

His hand was cool to the touch. Not as cold as the sea, but noticeably several degrees cooler than human body temperature. The webbing between fingers felt smooth like that of a manta ray’s wing, gliding over skin as it would the ocean floor. As Ren maneuvered her foot this way and that, light pin pricks of claws gently poked, but didn’t puncture, similar to a sea urchin.

This dangerous piece of the sea, mouth full of shark teeth and claws capable of spearing fish, handled Makoto with the utmost care as he examined her. This frightening, supposed man-eating monster of the deep. Not once did his sharp edges do her harm.

Maybe everything they knew about sirens was wrong. She wiggled her toes and Ren flinched back, fins flaring much like a startled cat. He was just too cute to be the monster her father warned her about.

Makoto couldn't hold back the rising giggles if she tried, releasing a peal of laughter as clear as a bell. Ren froze. Staring up in wonder, his pupils dilated at the sound.

Was this the first time she laughed around him? Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she laughed?

Unwilling to dwell on such negative thoughts, Makoto refocused on the motionless siren, accenting her question with a head tilt. “Is something wrong?”

Snapping out of whatever trance he was in, Ren quickly shook his head and looked away, head fins flapping wildly.

Before she could press his strange reaction, he reached for her again, trailing a hand up toward her knee. Allowing him to bend her leg experimentally, Ren attempted to recreate a walking or kicking motion–it was difficult to tell which–but he never pushed her too far. His face scrunched adorably in concentration trying to puzzle out some question about human anatomy.

Then his curious hands traveled higher, cresting her limit. Makoto stopped him at her thigh. He looked up. She shook her head and Ren retreated, respecting the boundary Makoto clearly conveyed without words.

Was this really the monster that haunted her nightmares as a child?

Satisfied with his inspection, Ren heaved himself onto the pier closer to her than he had ever dared. He held out a webbed hand flexing and curling his fingertips in a grabbing motion. Maybe he wasn’t quite done yet.

Giving him her hand, he examined her non-webbed fingers and blunt nails with great interest. Flipping her palm up and down, he felt her skin and compared it to the black scales running up the back of his arm like armor.

A sudden urge compelled Makoto to slot her hand in his. Splaying their fingers against each other, she marveled at the contrast–the difference between land and sea. Seemingly incompatible at a glance, yet so very identical. Intertwining their fingers together, the webbing felt strange and restrictive at first but readily provided enough space for them to curl in a loose handhold.

Was this weird? Heat bloomed on her cheeks when Makoto realized how her actions may be interpreted, but didn’t pull away.

Ren's gaze was glued to their joined hands, fixated on their connection. He flexed then tightened his grip to match hers, a small smile gracing his features.

Holding up their joined hands as if trying to show Makoto a new discovery, that quiet smile grew into a grin–all shark teeth and danger. Storm gray met bright red. Those eyes that once haunted Makoto now represented a safe harbor for her to find refuge in.

Theirs was a relationship built on patience and precious trust; faith neither would hurt the other. She could turn her back on the sea without fear of him trying to drown her.

At least until the collar came off.

The thought doused Makoto in ice water. Ren needed her to survive, but what would happen once freed? Would he leave? Would he become the aggressive monster so many sailors swore by?

Brewing apprehension churned like the roiling sea and despite her best attempt to mask the uncertainty the errant thought caused, Ren’s sharp eyes caught her retreat, his smile fading.

“No, it’s– It’s fine. I just– I–” Makoto stammered, finding no excuse for her sudden behavior. Caught in turbulent anxiety and guilt for ruining a happy moment, she released his hand. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should go.”

Hastily gathering her things–book, notebook, drenched pencil, boots–Ren’s tail slapped the wooden planks, startling her. Awkwardly shambling backward on his hands, he fully stretched out across the pier. Smiling encouragingly, Ren patted his tail and fluttered his fins, inviting Makoto to explore as he had with her.

Torn between innate curiosity and a desire to flee, she let her friendship with Ren win out. And as Makoto settled down, one hand caressing his scales, she realized that was exactly what they were–friends.

She feared losing him. Afraid of returning to monotonous days of studying and housework without anyone genuinely wanting to spend time with her.

For once, Makoto had a purpose that lit a spark in her soul. A reason to wake up every morning beyond the expectations placed on her. She worked extra hard to find time to visit the pier not because she was told to, but because she wanted to.

At first all her efforts were to save Ren, a horribly mistreated and fascinating boy who desperately needed help. Somewhere along the way, he in turn saved her from the whirlpool of loneliness Makoto wasn't aware she was trapped in. Interactions with him were a breath of fresh air after being submerged for so long. Those gray days of before were so dull in comparison to the vibrant storm in Ren’s eyes.

But she couldn't take care of him like this forever. Ren deserved to live freely, and delaying his release was akin to trapping him in a small tank for her own personal enjoyment.

Inspecting his healing scales as thoroughly as she prepared for an exam, Makoto would cherish any time spent with him. Soak in his silent friendship. Learn to speak his language. All of it.

At least until the collar came off.

An unfamiliar voice called out to Makoto halfway down the old pier, freezing her blood to ice. No one ever came out this far. Nobody bothered the girl wearing boots and trousers lugging around fishing equipment.

A cacophony of alarm bells rang in her ears. Did someone discover Ren? Was he safe? Please stay hidden.

Spinning around wide-eyed, her obvious panic spurred laughter from the intruder.

“I’m sorry for startling you, my dear.” An elderly man clopped across the planks. Though dressed plainly, there was a distinct cleanliness–a delicateness–unfit for a laborer or someone who lived in this part of town. A skilled artisan perhaps, one who didn’t belong at the old pier. “I was on a walk admiring the ocean and didn’t expect to meet anyone out here.”

Adjusting her fishing rod higher up against her shoulder to draw the man’s eye, Makoto subtly shifted the bucket of Ren’s fish out of view. “Yes, this is my secret fishing spot. Most people tend to stay around the main docks.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to come here alone in the evening? A young lady such as yourself should be careful, you never know what sort of monsters lurk in the dark.”

Suspicion tugged insistently at her gut. “I can assure you it’s perfectly safe. I’ve been fishing at this pier for years without incident, but thank you for your concern, Mister…?”

“Madarame,” the man replied and Makoto wracked her brain over where she heard that name before. “I apologize if I insulted you. As you can probably tell, I'm from out of town.”

“On a business trip?” she pressed.

“You could call it that. I happened to lose something important so I extended my stay as long as possible, but alas, my time here has run out.”

“What did you lose? I can keep an eye out for it.”

“Something of great value. Unfortunately, I have no idea where it could be, though I suspect it might have been stolen.”

He can’t know. No one should know.

Somewhere above them a gull cried out.

“I’m sorry to hear.”

Madarame sighed, casting his gaze out to sea and Makoto willed herself to not look. “Thank you for listening to this old man ramble on. I won’t waste anymore of your daylight.”

Jumping on her out, Makoto bid Madarame goodbye and carried on at a steady pace in spite of her racing heart. She couldn’t give him reason to suspect. Not when she was certain the man was somehow connected with Ren’s enslavement.

Setting her pole down, she dangled the empty fish hook into the water and prayed Ren noticed her warning signal like they practiced. As she pulled up the crab trap left out from yesterday, Makoto discreetly peeked over her shoulder. Sure enough, Madarame milled about watching her.

Memories of a sickly boy, only skin and bone, cramped in a glass prison for cheap entertainment thawed the ice and set her blood aflame. She will never let them take Ren. Not now, not ever.

Makoto lingered in the market, taking her time at each stall. Eyes open for anyone following her, ears open for gossip.

Another pirate attack on a merchant vessel. The Governor looked furious the other day. The freak tent finally left.

Master Madarame, the owner of the traveling freak show.

Ren had recognized that name. Disjointedly conveying fear and the harsh treatment received under that man to the best of his wordless ability, Ren bared his teeth in anger to punctuate his point. The same storm raged in his eyes as the day Makoto first saw him.

His agitation didn't scare her, she knew it was rightfully directed toward all of his captors and after hearing his recollection, she wanted to give them a piece of her mind herself. Instead his silent snarl spurred on her lockpicking drive, prompting her to buy a hefty padlock to practice on in her room. Makoto nearly had it. Her homemade tools were on the cusp of success, refined and redesigned with each failed attempt.

They agreed for the next few days she would come at or after sunset–explained by tracing the sun's path in the sky. The traveling troupe may have left, but someone could still be spying on her and she refused to take unnecessary risk. Ren's health and safety were top priority.

They would limit their daily meetings to the cover of darkness where his black hair and scales camouflaged him well. The problem now was getting past Sis.

“Going out late again?” Her clipped tone turned the question into a statement.

Makoto paused at the door. No matter what she said, this argument would only blow up in her face and the last thing she needed was Sis discovering Ren. At least she still believed in Makoto’s ‘going fishing’ façade.

Taking a deep breath, Makoto faced a threat greater than a siren. “I’m ahead in my studies and all the housework has been taken care of,” she recited with practiced steadiness. “I just want some time to unwind at the pier, I promise I won’t stay out long.”

“You’ve been going more frequently.” Sis wasn’t home enough to know it was daily. “Why the sudden reinterest? I thought you stopped after Dad died.”

Makoto’s heart thumped painfully at the mention of their father. Sis was suspicious and intentionally trying to provoke for information–her favored method–but this wasn’t an interrogation just yet.

“I stopped fishing after he died, but I never stopped going to the pier,” Makoto corrected.

“So why start now?” Sis persisted, motioning toward her pole.

“The other day when I was down there, I saw a massive fish with beautiful black scales, and I had the urge to try again.”

The Great Thief may not have detailed how to break locks, but the book taught useful tricks to thwart pursuers such as telling a lie based on truth.

Sis scoffed, “It’s a waste of time.”

“It’s a harmless hobby.”

“Makoto,” Sis’ voice hardened into the steel of absolute authority, “The only reason you have time to pursue such ‘harmless hobbies’ is because you depend on someone else.”

“That’s not–”

“You don’t have to worry about a single thing, and you’re provided with everything you need. Even when Dad was alive, I had no time to waste on useless skills that didn’t benefit my career. I’ve warned you how difficult it is to carve a path in this patriarchal society. Isn’t it about time you grew up and focused on what matters?”

Helpless under the ruthless onslaught, Makoto shrank down making herself as small as possible. Throat clogged, she couldn't say anything even if she wanted to. The pain cut deeper into the fault lines of her spiderwebbed heart. On the verge of being washed out to sea, Sis still commanded one final blow to claim victory.

“You’re useless as you are. After all the sacrifices I’ve made for you, all you do is continue to eat away at my life.”

Neither sister dared to breathe as the floor dropped beneath them, the unforgiving gallows choking tight. Sis’ eyes widened, guilt washing over her too late. Irreparable damage had been dealt and she had been the one to pull the trigger.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” Sis apologized, but Makoto had already curled in on herself. There was nothing anyone could say to revoke the harm caused by callous words. “You have school tomorrow. Just– concentrate on your studies.”

Sis left. A tactical retreat to give both siblings space–a kinder phrasing than she deserved.

Sis left. Two ships pass in the night. A signal is shown, a distant voice called out, then darkness and silence.

Sis left. Abandoned, Makoto had to pick up her scattered pieces alone.

It was ultimately Ren who suffered from her inadequacy.

How long did he wait alone at the old pier for the girl he relied on to never arrive? How weak with hunger he must be, missing his single meal of the day. Still recovering and fettered, did he scrounge around the bottom muck for any scraps to feed on? Steal from crab traps under the threat of being discovered or caught?

All the while Makoto cried alone in the comfort of her bed. Her spirit too weak, her heart too fragile, her determination sunk by cruel sound waves. If she really cared about Ren, stuck to her vow to help him, she should have escaped into the night regardless of what Sis said. But she didn’t, and it was Ren who paid the price.

Unable to sleep well, fatigue wrapped around her limbs like a ball and chain, yet she forced herself up extra early. No rest to be found stewing in shame and regret. Unaware if Sis had already left, Makoto quietly slipped out of the dark house.

Hurrying to the old pier with Ren’s fish bucket in hand, she darted down alleyways and side streets to avoid the sleepy, early morning bustle. Casting glances over her shoulder, Makoto remained vigilant for pursuers.

Until she saw him.

A flash of scale darted for cover beneath the pier, the surface rippling from the swish of fins. Panic bloomed anew–Ren never ventured this close to the promenade.

Heartbeat quickening, Makoto speed walked across the planks and to her surprise, he joined her, matching her pace swimming alongside the pier. Not stopping until she reached the very end, Makoto knelt down just as Ren emerged. Leaning on his elbows, he pulled his torso out of the water, but was too weak to come out fully.

“Ren, I’m so sorry.” Head bow. “Sis caught me trying to leave yesterday.”

He scrutinized her, stormy gray roaming up and down then he lifted a hand in a grabbing motion.

“I’m sorry, you must be starving.” Makoto passed the bucket to him.

Without batting an eye, Ren set it to the side and continued to stare up at her with a pinched expression. Taking her now empty hand in his, he held on tight. Makoto felt him trembling.

Two taps to side of head. Neck choke gesture. Point to Makoto.

Think. Imprisonment. Makoto.

I thought you were captured.

Two taps to side of head. Fist swing. Point to Makoto.

Think. Punch. Makoto.

I thought they would hurt you.

Fist tap above heart. Refusing to release her hand, a fumbled both index fingers point together twist.

Ren had been afraid–was still afraid–for her safety. He wasn’t bothered about the lack of food or going hungry, he was distraught over Makoto’s absence, worry plainly visible on his face. Not over the loss of what she provided, but for her as a person. His friend. She somehow missed that.

If something ever happened, he had no way to come for her. Bound to the sea, he was helpless. As much as he hated it, there was nothing Ren could reasonably do to save a human on land.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. What else could she say in the face of his concern? She continued to fail him over and over. “I’m okay.” Point to self. Thumbs up.

He frowned, disbelieving. Reaching up with his free hand, his thumb ghosted over the the bottom of a puffy eye, claw tip lightly grazing her face; simultaneously calling her out and trying to offer comfort. Ren hovered not quite cradling her cheek, testing the edge of their boundaries unsure if his touch was welcomed. He sincerely cared and that meant the world to Makoto.

Leaning fully into his palm, she allowed her splintered walls to crumble. Fresh hot tears spilled, and she pressed his cool hand closer, needing support. Tightening her grip on their joined hands, Makoto clung to him–her lifeline through the storm.

She cried and cried. All her remaining heartbreak and sorrows drained away in droplets as salty as the sea, falling into the waters below to become one with the tide. An insignificant contribution to the vast, great ocean, but to this beautiful and gentle piece tenderly holding her, Makoto’s tears meant everything.

She stayed with him as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Until arriving at school ‘on time’ turned into ‘on the cusp of being late’ and there were no more tears left to cry.

Unlike last night where hollowness set in, Makoto felt warmth. A small bud of promise lodged in the emptied space that both frightened and consoled her.

With a sigh, she disentangled herself from Ren. “What am I going to do when you’re gone?”

Her torrent of words sailed over his head more often than not, but that never stopped Ren from reaching back. Always listening attentively, reading her body language, tone, and facial expressions, he tended to decipher her sentiments well enough.

He saw her.

How ironic the one person who understood her best did not share a language. Perhaps no one else ever tried to learn.

Placing his hand on hers, he gently squeezed, trying to offer what little reassurance he could.

“Thank you. I’m okay now.” Makoto gave him a watery but sincere smile, wiping the remnants of her tears away. “I probably can’t come again today, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Ren raised a finger to the sky tracing the path of the sun.

Tomorrow.

Classmates loudly gossiped around her, speculating absurd rumors over why the resident teacher’s pet, stick in the mud, Miss Perfect, arrived late red and puffy eyed. Makoto held her head high, ignoring all of them and went about her day as usual. Their opinions didn’t matter.

Normally the potent teachings of Sis echoed in her ears at times like these. Never show weakness. Don't give them a reason to look down on you.

Instead Makoto found encouragement in the phantom feeling of a silent hand squeeze, granting her more confidence than any words could. With this newfound strength, she stood firm against the flood.

The first brought instant excitement and gratification.

The second proved the first had not been a fluke.

The third demonstrated Makoto could reliably crack the padlock.

The fourth was on her front door.

The fifth double checked the fourth.

The sixth found another lock in the house

The seventh opened slower, Makoto making several mistakes, mind drifting elsewhere.

The eighth fiddled with her tools more than the lock.

The ninth lay untouched for a long while, accepting that it was time.

The tenth she reserved for Ren.

Late afternoon bled into early evening, though with summer right around the corner, the sun lingered longer each day. As time passed without incident laying low, Makoto met Ren after school again. The only time she could guarantee Sis would stay off her back.

Sitting side by side at the end of the old pier, Makoto stared out to sea absentmindedly fidgeting with her lockpick set as Ren ate his meal. He practically bored holes into her head from the moment she arrived, clocking Makoto’s strange demeanor. Unable to keep her eyes on his words, he begrudgingly settled to eat until she was ready to talk.

Breathing in the sweet, salty air, Makoto knew this was where he was meant to be. This piece of the sea as gentle as he was beautiful. He needed to be free–Makoto wanted to see him free–and unleash the wild storm captured in his eyes. Uncork the ship in a bottle.

It was time for Ren to return home.

It was time to say goodbye.

“Ren,” she called, voice steadier than expected.

Tossing the leftover scraps into the water, he turned to her. Questions burned bright in those expressive gray eyes.

“May I see your collar?” Two fingers point to her eyes. Point to Ren. Neck choke gesture. Head tilt.

Claw tips scraped against the metal. His tail lashed. It was clear Ren was uncomfortable, but he nodded nonetheless.

As Makoto drew closer slowly reaching for his neck, a bolt of panic flashed across his face, wild and dangerous. Ren ducked his head and hunched his shoulders–a learned response. His feeble defense against the abusive shades haunting his memory.

“Oh, Ren. It’s just me. I promise I won’t hurt you,” she soothed, heart breaking at his fear. At the pain that continued to torment him.

Receding like the tide, he was once again that gaunt, broken boy she first met. Skittish and wary. A siren stranded on land in the shadow of an overturned cart.

“When you’re ready, okay? We’ll go slowly.” Makoto held her hands palms up in offering. “I want to help you, if you’ll let me.”

He stared at her open hands, a storm brewing in his eyes. Instinct warring with intuition. Turbulent waves threatened to capsize their rocking ship, yet guided by Makoto’s gentle coaxing, he unfurled, fighting back against the tempest of ghosts. Webbed fingers curled around hers, tentative at first then solid, anchoring himself in her hold.

They stayed like that. Breathing. Being. Finding solace in safe harbors.

Eventually Ren jerked his head in a nod, squeezing his eyes shut. He had come a long way from the boy imprisoned in a fish tank. From the siren stranded in the streets. From the stranger who refused to show himself. Honored by his trust, Makoto vowed to finally deliver Ren home.

Running her thumbs over his knuckles, she warned, “I'm going to move now.”

Makoto untangled their fingers. Eyes still closed, Ren blindly sought her out, gripping onto her shirt as Makoto leaned in.

“I’m here. You’re doing well,” she praised, feeling his tremble.

She trailed her touch up along his arms so he could follow her charted path. Hands rounding his shoulders, Ren tensed again, frown lines deepening. Skipping his neck, Makoto jumped to his hair, lightly combing through his dark, damp locks until he settled.

Cupping his cheeks with both hands, she smiled when he leaned into her touch. “I need you to tilt your head for me, okay?”

Lightly applying pressure, Ren allowed Makoto to position his head so she could reach the keyhole, inadvertently revealing a set of gills. Barely peeking over the top of the manacle, a slit on both sides of his neck hinted at more clasped inside. Choking him on land and at sea, the collar withheld any chance at an independent life.

Each new atrocious discovery set fire to Makoto’s blood. How dare they hurt him. How dare they traumatize this sweet boy to such an extent. Stolen from his home, displayed as a trophy, crippled.

But Ren didn’t need her anger right now. Forcing herself to calm, Makoto tapped the keyhole. “Here. I’m going to be touching this part, here.”

He didn’t move.

Speaking more words of encouragement, she aligned her lockpick. His grip tightened under her tinkering, poking holes through fabric, but nothing could break her concentration. With a click louder than a canon, Makoto’s tenth lock came undone.

It didn’t drop away easily, no, she had to delicately peel the metal off of his skin as if it were an adhesive, the wound revealed underneath red and raw. A pressure sore circled the entirety of his neck, angry like an open blister. Blood and puss oozed from beneath gill flaps swelled shut.

Beyond horrified, she could only stare in shock at the full extent of damage the collar–a manacle–caused. No words could begin to describe her outrage and revulsion.

At the tent, the public jeered at Ren calling him a sea monster, while the real abominations stalked amongst the crowd in top hats and bowties. Cruel in ways beyond the sea’s comprehension.

Ren winced as his open wound met salty air, then slowly rotated his head this way and that, testing his new freedom. When his claws neared the redness, her own panic spiked.

Makoto’s hands shot out, stopping his. “Don't touch it!”

First aid. She needed to perform first aid. Details on how could be sorted later.

Before Makoto could move–to leave, to touch him, to do something–Ren lunged. Webbed claws grabbed at her face as he tackled her. Flinching in surprise, Makoto screwed her eyes shut on reflex.

A firm touch to her forehead. Surprised red met watery gray as Ren pressed his forehead against hers. Forceful, but not uncomfortably so. Wild and gentle in a way that was uniquely Ren.

Cradling her tenderly as if she were a most precious treasure, pure joy leaked from the corners of his eyes as he pressed closer still. His shark tooth smile was so wide, Ren had to squint through the tears.

Thank you.

Hands falling to wrap her in a hug, Ren pulled back only to drop his face to her shoulder. At last. He silently wept against her. An unstoppable force of nature as relentless as the ocean and beautiful beyond belief.

Tears pricked at her eyes as well and Makoto fully leaned into him, enveloping the broken boy who was finally allowed to heal.

She stared longingly out the kitchen window, dish towel in hand. Sis had yet to leave. The cloudy skies beckoned her, promising a cool day at the old pier. Makoto had her fishing gear packed with the new additions of a clean rag and healing salve. It wouldn’t last long, but for the limited time Ren sat with her, he could receive some benefit.

Housework finished, schoolwork completed, studies ahead of her class, nothing else demanded her attention for the day. Except for Ren. But for him, Makoto would always grant that freely. She wanted nothing more than to race down to the old pier and see him again. Worried over his injury, wincing at the thought of it. Sis had yet to leave.

She wished he had at least listened to her request to let it dry out, but he dove into the sea in the middle of her sentence. Ren froze as soon as he was under–Makoto couldn’t fathom the unbearable salty sting–but he quickly shook it off and swam circles around the pier. Eventually he poked his head out again, smiling as bright as the flaming red wound. It didn’t assuage her worries in the slightest.

Sis had yet to leave.

What if he got an infection? What if sharks go after him?

So many variables outside of their control, so many possibilities of more harm. Her anxiety brewed over this boy.

She ached to escape to the old pier, but Makoto dared not try. Sis hunched over the table flanked by stacks of paperwork. A guard dog gnawing on a bone, poised to leap into a snarling fit at the slightest hint of transgression. The shadow of a sea monster waiting in ambush.

Makoto used to crave these sporadic days, the rare times Sis would linger in the house and not the office. Though she tended to be ignored, lectured, or receive one worded sentences, sometimes she could pretend they were a happy family.

After their last argument, Makoto felt as though she were a stowaway tiptoeing around the house. Peeking behind corners, keeping one ear on alert, hiding in her room whenever possible. Even now she counted down the seconds, afraid Sis would call out her unproductivity.

A final glance outside and Makoto resumed cleaning the spotless kitchen. The scratching of a pen filled the disquieted space between.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, still about an hour away from sinking into the sea. An unlit lantern clanked rhythmically in time with her steps.

“Ren!” Makoto called once she reached the end of the pier.

No siren.

Busy arranging her things, she took no note of his absence. Sometimes he swam off. Sure, Ren usually hung around in the afternoon and evening, but she never had to wait long for his return.

Setting aside the rag and salve ready to be used as soon as he arrived and far enough away to avoid the splash of seawater, Makoto busied herself with her usual routine. First the crab trap. Check the trap, re-bait, toss it back in for tomorrow.

Pulling up the trap felt harder than normal, enough for the fleeting thought to cross her mind. Generally, she considered herself lucky to catch a single crab. Luckier if it was a worthy size to keep. So to Makoto’s utter bafflement hauling the trap onto the planks, both crab and lobster strained at the netting, stuffed full to near bursting.

Excitement fluttered then promptly lost its wings, falling into a pit of dread.

“Ren!” She tried again, searching for any hint of scale. For any disturbance on the waves. “Ren are you there?”

No siren.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Never show weakness. Do not cry.

With a slight tremble to her hands, Makoto left the crab trap where it was and fumbled baiting her rod, pricking herself twice on the hook. Casting out her line, she waited.

Ren was still injured, surely he wouldn’t go too far right?

And waited.

But he was free now. He didn’t depend on Makoto’s help getting food anymore.

And waited.

Behind her sat a bucket of fish. A ‘just in case.’

No siren. No bites either.

A lone tear rolled down her cheek. Sniffling, Makoto furiously wiped it away. She should be happy. Ren was back where he belonged. Didn’t she already make peace with this possible outcome? Yet more tears gathered, escaping without her consent.

A broken sob was swallowed beneath the crying of gulls flying home for the night. Not one minded the lonely girl dissolving into grief at the end of the old pier. A sight reminiscent of the one four years ago consisting of the same girl but younger.

She knew, oh, she knew that one day Ren would leave her for the sea. Just like her father did. Makoto basked in their time together, in the fulfillment of enjoyed company, knowing he would only stay until the collar came off. Releasing him released her tie to him.

Somewhere out there, lost at the bottom of the cold, unforgiving sea, lay a piece of her heart. Somewhere out there, in the secret world beneath the waves, another shard swam free.

A brilliant sunset danced across the sky, burning bright gold and red, but Makoto was blind to it all. So consumed in the deluge of grief, she failed to notice the tugging on her line until the rod jerked sharply and nearly off the pier. Catching it and almost toppling into the water herself, Makoto cursed at the fish. At the rude interruption. At the near loss of a memento from her father.

Bitterness swelled. Sorrow churned into a feeling hotter and angrier. Into a misplaced wish to lash out, and the struggling fish proved the perfect outlet to vent her frustrations upon.

Her father and Ren left her. Sis hated her. Her school peers wanted nothing to do with her. She had no one. Set adrift, she toiled aimlessly for a hazy future she still could not picture.

A rough pull on the line snapped Makoto back into the game. Whatever was on the other side demanded her full concentration. Forced to stand or else be taken into the sea, she poured her anger into the fight of her life.

But it refused to be beaten so easily. The flare of irritation abating, emotions transformed yet again, channeling into exhilaration. The adrenaline pumping thrill of a worthy opponent. A rare test of skill the fish she normally hooked did not provide; requiring patience, strength, and stamina,

The fight lasted over six grueling minutes. With a final triumphant yank on her rod, a giant trevally breached. On the cusp of being too large for her gear to handle, it was a surprise her line didn’t snap under the weight. She’d seen the fish around, but never landed one before, their kind not attracted to her wiggling worm bait.

“Ren?” Makoto called again.

No siren, but a flash of silver scales darted beneath the pier.

Makoto didn't like to waste. She already had more seafood than she knew what to do with and no idea how to carry it all, yet she cast her line out again. If her suspicions were correct then–

Another bite. A seabass.

Barred knifejaw.

Moray eel.

Amberjack.

Fish after fish bit her line within seconds of her hook hitting the water. A bounty like no other swarmed her rod–every fisherman’s dream come true–and she knew immediately who was responsible. If this was his final parting gift, then Makoto will let loose and enjoy it without reservations.

She willed her tired arms to keep going, pushing herself harder and harder to keep this connection with Ren alive. The connection between land and sea channeled through her father’s rod.

But all good things must come to an end. The final page of their story was turning–this fairytale of a girl who saved a siren. Another story told at the end of the old pier, one Makoto will cherish for the rest of her life.

Line straining under pressure it wasn’t built for, it finally snapped just as the last rays of sunlight sank below the horizon, taking the magic of the sea with it. The dream ended. Alone in the creeping darkness, Makoto breathed in the sweet, salty air with a solemn sense of finality and smiled.

Out here beneath the fading nautical twilight sky, out here in the small overlap between land and sea, out here where an impossible friendship blossomed between human and siren, Makoto was home. And so was he.

Lighting her lantern, she took stock across the overabundance of gifts, planning how many trips would be needed to ferry it all when a splash pierced through the night. Wooden planks creaked under the intrusion as Ren–beautiful, infuriating Ren–hauled himself on top holding a fish hooked on a snapped line.

“Ren!” Makoto threw herself at him, wrapping the surprised boy in a tight embrace, heedless of the seawater soaking through her shirt. Tears she thought ran dry welled up again. “You came back.”

His safe return was the greatest present Makoto ever received.

Depositing the fish among the others, Ren reciprocated the hug, holding her close as emotions surged over.

“I thought you left. I thought this was your goodbye.” Her voice trembled, laced with tears.

He squeezed then pulled away so he could answer. Taking her hand, Ren pressed his forehead to the back of it with a reverence Makoto didn’t know how to interpret.

Point to self. Open palm, gesture down.

Ren. Stay.

Point to sky, circle path of the sun. Two taps to the pier. Open palm, gesture down.

Afternoon to evening. Pier. Stay.

The tightness in her chest released and in the opened space, the budding of a new connection was allowed to grow. It sank roots around her heart, tying the fragmented pieces together. Nourished in the bubbling stream of happiness, a promise sprouted.

Almost afraid of the answer, but knowing the uncertainty would haunt her otherwise, Makoto asked, “For how long?”

Ren smirked, briefly pressing his forehead against hers causing Makoto’s cheeks to heat. Pointing the sky, he circled his hand in an endless loop.

Forever.

Chapter Text

Ships rarely passed by the old pier on their way to the main docks. If they did, they were so far out that Makoto never worried about the crew spotting Ren at her side. No one suspected a siren to live so close to civilization nor to be fraternizing with a human.

A creature of nightmares and legends. A sea monster from her father’s stories. A silly boy who loved to make her laugh.

Whenever a ship came into view Makoto would point them out, explaining how to identify navy vessels from merchants, warning to keep away from fishing boats. She described nautical flags and their meanings, maritime trade and exploration, all as her father once taught her.

Feet next to tail dangling off the pier to the underscore of lapping waves and creaking wood, passing on his knowledge and stories, Makoto never felt so close to her departed father. Perpetuating his legacy in this growing connection between land and sea, she carried on his spirit.

Surrounded by the sweet, salty air, the old pier filled with precious memories relived as Makoto recounted their time together to Ren, the pain bittersweet. Loss and love flowed together out to the gentle sea with each story told.

While Ren didn't understand all her words yet, his patient presence and hand squeezes conveyed a silent support more potent than everything she received up until meeting him combined. Sure, steady, and constant. Her precious friend. Catching her unshed tears, he encouraged Makoto to confront her buried grief.

After her father’s death she tried to move on like Sis did–alone. To forget the man and remember his teachings. A contradiction that split her heart as Makoto trailed after Sis, trying to perfectly step into oversized footprints.

Seeing Ren that fateful day tempted her off the path. A captured storm that stirred her muted sense of justice, waking it from slumber. Veering into uncharted territory, Makoto sailed toward the horizon with a friend at her side and no longer chased after a shadow in the distance.

What waited beyond was still undefinable, less certain than Sis’ predetermined direction, but it shined like the rising sun. A promise. To reach it, Makoto would reconcile her separated fragments and find peace with her father's ghost.

Hopefully one day, the tide will carry the shed weight of these feelings out to his grave. Until then she will struggle, fall, and carry onward, accompanied by her most trusted confidant.

“Ren, I’m here,” Makoto called to the open sea.

Feet dangling over the edge for once still in school clothes, she sighed, letting the cool ocean breeze wash over her. Summer was just about here. The heat making that beautiful deep blue incredibly inviting. Maybe later in the season she’ll brave the harbor waters. A shame there were no beaches nearby, but imagining what sort of expression Ren would make had her giggling.

Of course the object of her thoughts popped his head out at that moment, instantly perking at the sound of her soft laughter.

“Hello, Ren,” she greeted.

He beamed in reply, then curiously examined her shoes and long skirt, not used to seeing her in anything but boots and trousers. The only other time Makoto wore her day clothes down to the pier was the morning after her argument with Sis, and both of them were too distressed to take notice of her attire.

“I came straight from school,” she explained, smoothing out her skirt. “Before we met, I used to come here without my fishing gear all the time and I think it’s safe to do so again.”

Madarame and his traveling troupe were long gone, plus Ren didn’t rely on her for food anymore. If, knock on wood, they were ever discovered, he’d be able to take care of himself.

Ren pulled off a shoe and turned it around in his hands to Makoto’s slight concern, but he slipped it back on her foot only a little wet. Then he reached for the end of her long skirt.

“You’re probably the only person who finds these clothes strange,” Makoto said, holding her skirt down as Ren examined the fabric. It was weird to let a boy handle her clothes like this, but she knew Ren meant no harm and would stop at her signal. “Everyone else thinks a girl wearing pants is unorthodox.”

Perhaps others viewed it as an act of rebellion, but for her, it was practicality. Granted, most girls didn't grow up with fathers who took them out fishing.

Ren flapped the ends of her skirt. Peering beneath the waves, Makoto saw his fins mimicking the movement, albeit with far more grace than flimsy fabric could hope to achieve.

His fascination with everyday objects prodded at Makoto’s imagination, asking her to view commonplace things through new lenses. To question why it was rather than simply accepting that it is. Broadening her horizons while standing in place.

She tested that once. Finding a spot out of the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, Makoto stood there watching the crowd, wondering how the scene would look from the perspective of a siren. The average mundanity transformed into an exotic world, brighter in ways she hadn't experienced since childhood. Foreign and full of life.

Each person stood out as an object of fascination, blurring together into an overwhelming confusion of color, movement, and sound. A fluttering bird landed on a windowsill. A pungent floral scent mixed with smoke wafted in the breeze. Patterns emerged and for once, Makoto questioned why.

When Ren was finished with his examination, she pulled out the rag and salve from her school bag. Patting the pier, she said, “I want to check on your neck again, please.”

Ren still disliked having his neck touched, but he always complied. Holding a hand up in a ‘one moment’ gesture, he ducked under the water. Diving into the gloom, he vanished from view for several seconds. Slowly rising back to the surface, Makoto watched him smooth his hands around the injury as if he could wipe away everything she found upsetting.

Her heart twisted.

Ren didn’t fully climb onto the pier like normal, instead he chose to lean on the planks with his forearms, resting his torso against the edge. However wet hair plastered over Ren’s eyes from his upward lunge, blinding him under the thick mat. Shaking his head like a dog to no avail, he stopped at Makoto’s surprised laughter.

“H-Hey!” Water droplets flung all over, eliciting a bout of giggles mostly over Ren’s unfortunate state. “Stay still! Let me get that for you.”

He startled under her touch, but offered no resistance as Makoto gently brushed his unruly bangs away. Head fins fluttering, Ren pointedly avoided her gaze, choosing to stare at one of his claws digging into a plank. Squeezing his eyes shut, he lifted his head to reveal his neck.

Unsure what came over him, Makoto chuckled at his silly behavior and set to work. His injury was healing nicely, gills fully functional again, but it undoubtedly would leave a nasty scar. The mark of his captivity forever imprinted on skin.

Finished rubbing the salve around the wound, her gaze lingered, wishing, not for the first time, she could erase all of his unfair pain. Lowering his chin, Ren’s eyes sought out hers. He knew. She did too.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto needlessly apologized. “I still regret taking so long to free you.”

Locked in the crippling small cell wasting away, the days had blurred together for Ren. Either people were there or they weren’t. He didn’t know how long he wore the collar for, but Makoto bore guilt for every second it remained on after he came into her care.

Yes, she poured hours into lockpicking research and craft, but she could have done more. Should have done more. Worked harder, longer, figured it out faster.

Ren nudged her shoulder.

“I know, you’re right.”

Did fear of losing her only friend hinder progress? Possibly. But that just meant Makoto needed to ensure his complete recovery.

Water splashed as Ren propelled himself higher to lean into her side, displeased with her downcast expression.

“Sorry–” Makoto began, but he interrupted with a loud huff. “Fine, fine. Honestly, you know I'm just worried about you.”

Eyes softening, Ren backed down then looked away. His claws scraped marks into the wood. Odd.

“Is something wrong?”

Not meeting her gaze, Ren shook his head, but his tail swished agitated in the water.

Now Makoto was concerned. “Ren, talk to me, please.”

Eyes flit between her and his hand pinned to the pier. It curled into a fist and she realized he was holding something. Fidgeting, Ren presented to her a small, patterned scallop shell. Decorated with alternating wavy stripes of mottled white, red, and purple so dark it looked black, its vivid coloring was brighter than any she'd seen before and did not contain a single scratch on it.

“Oh, wow! This is beautiful,” she gasped, accepting the present. It fit perfectly in her palm. “Thank you.”

Something sparked in Ren's eyes and the rest of the world faded away. Even the scallop shell dulled in comparison to the brightness of the smile that split across his face. He bunted his forehead to her shoulder, lingering for a brief second, then heaved himself onto the pier ready to talk and further develop their language as they always did.

“Silly, did you think I wouldn't like it? You don't have to be nervous.” She playfully bumped him back with her arm.

The shell was gorgeous. Regardless, she'd treasure any trinket Ren gave her.

Brushing the thought away, Makoto clutched the precious gift to her chest. For now, all her undivided attention lay on this extra cheerful boy as they discussed their extraordinary and unremarkable day to day life.

“Tired?”

Ren nodded, resting on the pier’s edge, arms crossed. He leaned his head against her thigh.

She lightly brushed the wet hair out of his face, all too aware of the water soaking into her skirt. Oh well, it’ll dry. Maybe she should start bringing a towel.

“Did you go out deep again?”

Another nod.

That was good. Able to breathe easily no longer fettered, Ren spent more time out at sea exploring. Swimming long distances against the current provided the perfect full body workout. Muscles started to take shape as his body mass increased.

Makoto fiddled with the conch in her lap–another immaculate shell gifted by Ren for her growing collection. How strange, she thought, how comfortable she was with a shirtless boy, a sight considered obscene in public. But she supposed her unconventional choice of working clothes made her the pot and Ren the kettle.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Ren quickly shook his head. Blinking his eyes open, he started rousing himself up to be better company to which Makoto gently pressed his head back to her thigh.

“Shh, rest,” she coaxed. “I'll stay.”

Sis had yet to leave. A rarity even for a weekend. Maybe her continued presence was an apology of sorts for her previous behavior. It certainly didn’t seem that way, but a little wishful thinking only sometimes hurt more.

In the midst of Makoto preparing lunch for the two of them, Sis finally packed up her things, grumbling all the while. “Shoving all their menial work onto me. Typical. Makoto, I’m heading to the office. I won’t be back for dinner.”

“Okay. Don’t overwork yourself.”

Wrong thing to say.

“We can’t move up the ladder without overworking,” Sis snapped. Already aggravated, the poison flowed easily. “The only other women working in the office are maids, and despite my achievements, I’m continually looked down upon. I manage triple the workload of my peers, yet I’m never up for promotion.”

Toxins rose from the depths of an envious heart, brewed by a sea monster greater than a siren. However Sis caught herself, sinking the darkness back into hiding.

“Don't waste your education, Makoto. Few have the privilege of receiving any form of schooling. Having a good work ethic isn't enough, society demands results. We have to do whatever it takes because failure isn't an option.”

“Does it have to be this way?” Makoto asked against her better judgement. “I've been thinking, if Dad were alive–”

“Well he's gone,” Sis cut her off. “It doesn't matter how you feel about the system, this is how it is and we have to play by its rules.”

She promptly turned her back on Makoto, ending the discussion.

“When will you learn?”

Big. Makoto. Human. Question.

“Yes, Sis can be harsh, but I know she means well. Usually.”

Imprisonment. Question.

“...It didn't used to be this bad, though she always had the burden of caring for me even when Dad was alive. He used to leave on long voyages that sometimes lasted months, and Sis had to juggle between raising me, school, and housework. I'm glad I can take some of that off her plate now.”

Big. Makoto. Human. Connection. Imprisonment. Human. Question.

“No, Sis is…! Sis is…”

A gentle hand squeeze.

“A little. But she's the only family I have left. What about you? Do you have any family?”

No. Alone.

“I see. Is that normal for sirens?”

Somewhat.

“As awful as this sounds, I'm glad you don't. It wasn't easy losing Dad and if I knew there was any possibility of him still being out there held captive… Oh! I don't mean to belittle your situation at all!”

Calm. Ren. Good.

“Sorry.”

Stop. Calm.

“...It must have been terrifying being alone.”

Yes. Big. Heart. Pain. Now. Good. Alone. No. Ren. Makoto. Together. Happy.

“I'm glad I met you, too.”

Ever since he gave her the scallop shell, no, since the evening he brought fish to her hook, Ren gifted Makoto presents daily. He always brought her live fish, storing them in a large crab trap–absolutely stolen from someone–until she had to leave for the day.

At first it was only a single medium sized fish, sometimes shellfish every so often as well, but then Makoto off-handedly mentioned she prepared meals for Sis. A mistake. From then on Ren doubled his catch, ensuring Makoto walked away with two of everything. Their roles reversed. Ren provided food like he was trying to repay her for all she had given him and then some.

It was difficult to refuse him, too. When Makoto gently tried to turn him down, Ren visibly wilted. All his fins drooped, falling like he couldn’t bear their weight. His eyes looked up at her big and sad–a storm threatening to downpour.

Makoto wasn’t so heartless she could say no to that. And thus, every day, he happily brought her spoils of the sea on the condition he didn’t steal from others.

His persistent gift giving didn’t stop there. Seashells, pearls, handfuls of gold coins, and other shiny trinkets all found their way into Makoto’s room. She argued it was too much, an excessive amount that Ren needn't go through the trouble to collect. But without fail, waking up to the dancing light reflected off the sea glass she strung in her window brought a smile to her face.

Slowly but surely, Ren turned her room into a secret grotto filled with treasures from the ocean. A hideaway that lifted her spirits whenever Makoto was unable to escape to the pier. Feeling a little less alone, somehow, Makoto's productivity increased, freeing more time to delve into studies outside of the school's lesson plan. Into more research about anything and everything related to her dear friend's ocean home.

As the days rolled by, Ren continued to grow stronger and healthier. One afternoon, he demonstrated this recovery by leaping high over the width of the pier in a surprise greeting. Performing flips and jumps, his acrobatics were certainly impressive.

Ren had another eye-catching feature to start showing off as well. His resplendent black scales glistened iridescent red in the light. A mesmerizing color change. Makoto often caught herself staring, captivated by the black flashing crimson, and judging by Ren's smirk as he angled his tail even more into her sights, he knew it too.

In fact, he often stretched out subtly flaunting his tail and growing lean muscles in a manner Makoto would absolutely label as peacocking. Yet she couldn't fault him for that. Ren deserved to be proud. After all he suffered, Makoto was pleased his healing progressed so well. Beautiful and free, he was a broken boy no longer.

Ren enjoyed spending many hours lazily basking in the sun at Makoto’s side whenever she came down to read. At least until she decided literacy was a skill he would benefit from, then together they hunched over a book as she read aloud, gesturing words whenever possible.

She was patient in her teaching methods. Starting from scratch with someone still new to her language yet an apt learner, Makoto diversified her approach, not wanting to treat Ren like a child. She purchased a new notebook and pencil set just for him, then proceeded to scare Ren back into the water when she hollered a loud ‘No!’ as his dripping wet self ruined a few pages in his eagerness.

Persuading Ren to come back without him offering an abundance of tokens in apology was harder than expected. From then on Makoto brought a towel for him.

The biggest challenge she faced in teaching Ren was the fact he never uttered a sound, proving it difficult to gauge his reading ability. Especially with so many new words and no hand gesture translation. But he could make educated spelling guesses when she quizzed him based on pronunciation alone and wasn't shy asking for clarification either. He held a genuine interest in learning.

These exercises engaged Makoto too, requiring her to learn from Ren as he made up new motions on the fly to his expanding vocabulary. It was fascinating to build a new language complete with grammar and syntax. While not a one to one equivalent often requiring context to understand, Makoto proudly considered herself bilingual as this new form of communication took proper shape.

“Ren? What is– Is that a blue marlin?!”

The incredibly foolish siren wrestled a live, dangerous, far heavier than he was, marlin. A monster of a fish. It thrashed violently, waving its long spear-like bill trying to maim him as he inanely struggled to hold on.

“Oh my g– Ren, drop it! You're going to hurt yourself!”

Heedless of her warning, Ren wrapped his tail around the marlin and Makoto watched helplessly as the two sank into the gloom, fighting the whole way down. One of them smacked a pier post with enough force that the whole structure groaned low in response.

Makoto dropped to her knees, leaning as far over the pier as she could. “No, no, no. Please be okay.”

She heard of legendary fights against the aggressive and tenacious fish. Of failed battles lasting hours upon hours. A deep sea apex predator that few successfully caught.

How could Ren handle wrestling a monster that defeated far larger men equipped with tools?

In an eruption of water, the marlin landed on the pier behind Makoto with Ren pinning the flailing fish down as best as he could with his body. One hand held the bill, the other dug claws into the fish's side, and to top it off, he ineffectively bit onto its head.

“Ren!” Makoto was quick to help, grabbing on near the tail. The marlin was double her size. “What is this? What's going on?”

Present for you.

“What?!”

“We’ve been eating a lot of seafood lately.”

Makoto paused, a damning mistake in front of Sis. “Are you tired of it? I can make something else tomorrow.”

“Some variation would be nice,” Sis replied.

The two continued their meal in silence. The quiet scrape of utensils pricked at Makoto’s nerves.

“So, who have you been seeing?”

Makoto nearly choked. “What? No, I’m not–”

“You come home with fish every day without taking your rod out,” Sis interrupted, listing facts with cold precision. “Species neither you nor Dad ever caught. Sometimes even large crabs and lobsters that are usually out of our sustainable price range.”

Sis’ eyes narrowed, daring Makoto to refute her. They were treading into interrogation territory.

“I could understand if you found a bargain once in a while, but daily? Who is giving you all this?”

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then explain.”

“There’s…” She had to protect Ren. Sis would dispatch the entire navy fleet if she knew who he was. “I’ve been teaching a fisherman how to read and write, among other language skills.”

Sis did not let up. “Why would a common fisherman need to be literate?”

“He was somewhat interested and I convinced him to learn.”

“How old is he?”

“About my age.”

“Makoto,” Sis sighed in disappointment, the sound sinking between the crevices of a cracked heart. “Nothing good will come out of this. Do you really need me to explain why I don’t approve?”

“We’re just friends!” Makoto’s fists clenched.

The image of Ren’s heartbroken expression when she last rejected a present surfaced. His shark teeth coated in the blood of the marlin– Maybe that was not the best instance to remember.

Sis scoffed, “Be smart about this. Don’t throw your life away over some boy, especially a poor fisherman.”

Anxious anger churned in Makoto’s gut like a vicious shark circling the shallows, one provocation away from lashing out. She understood Sis’ concern over her meeting with a boy. Over the abundance of gifts that were considered prized catches. If Makoto were on the receiving end of such attention from anyone other than Ren, she’d be suspicious too.

A rebuttal growled in staunch defense of her time spent with him ready to lunge, when her attention latched onto a particular detail.

“Why did you single out the fisherman part?” Makoto warily asked. She had to conceal the siren between half-truths and lies, but the way Sis spat out the occupation had Makoto bristling.

“You’re cutting off your future prospects by entangling yourself with a socially low-class laborer,” Sis said. “With your level of education, he provides you nothing.”

Makoto couldn't believe what she was hearing. “He's been providing us with free dinners.”

“He's compensating for your time. Or are you saying this boy would be willing to give you his best catches without tutoring?”

Makoto held her tongue.

“Nothing in life is free and I have no doubt this boy has ulterior motives. One mistake will cost you everything.”

“You don't even know him,” Makoto rebuked.

“No,” Sis agreed, “but I know enough.”

Finally school’s on break. The administrative reception is coming up. Did you hear about the recent pirate attack?

The usual marketplace chatter fell on deaf ears as Makoto tuned out the unimportant news. Browsing the produce stalls, she considered what to cook for the rest of the week.

Truth be told, she was a little tired of seafood every day, but it proved a worthwhile culinary challenge finding different ways to prepare the same main ingredient. With the money saved, Makoto splurged on spices and additional components normally outside of her price range. An unexpected adventurous side surfaced in response to this creative test, turning a mindless chore into experimental fun.

They were fine financially, Sis’ judicial job was rather lucrative supplemented by the navy’s pension from their father’s time, but they still had to be mindful of excess spending. Ren's daily catches did ease meal expenses considerably and Makoto refused to squander his gifts. Wasn't Sis the one to pound the no waste mentality into her?

Though she felt guilty using a present to barter for other goods, Ren assured he was happy regardless of how Makoto made use of his support and offered to hunt for anything she requested. But how could she make demands? Ren already provided so much for free, Makoto couldn't ask for anything more. She refused to take his care for granted.

Walking away from the butcher’s stall, Makoto held a package of choice cuts in one hand and a recipe for payback in the other.

She arrived at the old pier, picnic basket in hand, ready to even the score. Makoto had asked about his gift giving habit before Sis brought it up, when she had tried–again–to curb his favors.

Ren startled, eyes wide and panicked. You don't like my presents?

“No, it’s not that. I'm grateful for everything, but you really don't need to spoil me anymore. If this is about paying me back, then you've already overcompensated for an unnecessary debt.”

His brows furrowed and he brought a hand to his chin, a clear sign Ren was picking apart the sentence. She rephrased, “You give me too much.”

Giving you things makes me happy, Ren answered slowly, searching her face for hints to her inner thoughts. I don't have the words I need yet, but I'm happy like this. With us.

Makoto wished she could say the same, but the imbalance pulled at her conscience. It was simply unacceptable to always be on the receiving end and so today she would take her first steps to remedy that.

Setting her basket down, Makoto didn't have to wait long for Ren to join her on the pier, already reaching for the towel she laid out for him unbidden.

“I have presents for you,” Makoto intoned in a singsong manner.

Head fins perked to attention as Ren wiped his face with the towel and started drying himself even faster. She laughed at his eagerness, finding it endearing. He could be so cute sometimes her heart clenched in response.

“Not so rough, you'll hurt yourself,” she chided, hands joining his on the towel.

Ren stilled, relinquishing control as Makoto took over drying his hair far slower and gentler than he had been. Using the same amount of care she had once treated his neck with, Makoto diligently wiped each fin and fluffed up his hair. It was still damp, but dry enough that his normally subdued, messy curls bounced to life, frizzing on top.

Makoto really wanted to properly wash his hair to see how it would curl without salt clinging to it. Would it be soft? Even curlier?

“There you go,” she said, shaking herself from daydreaming and handing the towel back.

It looked like Ren was fighting down a smile–a losing battle–as his fins fluttered. Wiping down his arms and torso, he spread the towel out to dry on the planks. Meanwhile Makoto scooted back to make room between them for her gifts.

“You're always giving me things from the sea, so I wanted to show you what we have on land.” She laid out containers, cloth wraps, and jars. “I don't think you've tried human food before, correct? I brought a variety so we can find out what you like together.”

Fresh fruits, baked goods, and roasted meats just to name a few–a bounty of the land in small portions for a taste testing feast. Grilled fish remained on standby in case nothing agreed with Ren who, as far as Makoto knew, was a piscivore.

He gaped at the spread, eyes shining in excitement. Though when he hovered uncertain where to start, Makoto reached over to offer the container of fruits. Something soft and sweet to ease him in. Ren caught her hand on the way and leaned down, pressing his forehead against the back almost like a gentleman offering a lady a kiss.

“You're welcome.” Makoto felt her cheeks heating. “Now come on, I want to hear your thoughts on everything.”

Only if you have some, too.

It was difficult to argue knowing how stubborn he could be, so she easily relented. “I will, but you first. This is your present, after all.”

With Makoto’s assent, Ren turned all his attention to inspecting the meal provided, spearing the delicacies between his claws. She waited with bated breath as he brought a piece of fruit to his lips and took a bite. His eyes blew wide, tail slapping behind him, at what was likely his first experience tasting something sweet.

Ren dug in with glee after that, sampling everything with gusto while Makoto diligently took notes on his reactions. Cataloguing his expressions and comments, ranking likes and dislikes, building a data set for future cooking endeavors. She absolutely would be bringing Ren home cooked meals and other treats from now on.

“Don’t force yourself to eat it if you don’t like it,” Makoto said, holding back laughter at his puckered face over a sour pickle.

Did you make this?

“I did.”

Then I have to. Ren steeled himself in grim acceptance.

“What sort of logic is that?” This time she did laugh aloud and swiped the offending morsel away, handing him a container filled with a variety of cooked meats. “Sirens and humans have different dietary needs, you don’t have to eat the vegetable ones if you don’t like them.”

Although Ren seemed relieved, he still pouted. But you gave it to me.

“And you are free to decline,” Makoto replied diplomatically, ignoring his overdramatic recoil. It didn’t hurt her feelings at all if he disliked something. Neither of them knew Ren’s preferences aside from raw fish. “I’ll just replace it with something else.”

He balked at the idea of rejecting her and she had an inkling his adamant nature of gift giving and receiving stemmed from siren tradition. Ren’s reluctance to surrender a gift he didn’t care for simply because Makoto gave it to him certainly added a new dimension to the marlin debacle, but she would put her foot down if she had to. That ordeal was ridiculous.

“If something tastes odd to you, it could be a sign that it’s bad for your body. Please don’t force yourself, I don’t want you to get sick.”

Ren relented at that, recognizing her care. Fine.

“Oh,” Makoto suddenly pointed to the horizon. “What’s that ship coming in?”

He gave her a look–he absolutely knew this was a distraction as she withdrew the container of pickled vegetables to the basket–but complied anyway, squinting out toward sea. Navy.

“Correct. You’re getting better at this.”

Ren half shrugged and went back to picking over the food. A pleased little smile curled at the praise that promptly vanished when he took a bite of braised beef and swooned. It seemed they found a new favorite. Makoto underlined and circled that in her notes, already listing out the ingredients to make oxtail soup in the margins. Perhaps when the weather cooled a little more.

Watching Ren’s joy devouring the rest, shark teeth slicing through the tender meat like butter, Makoto had the stark realization she wanted to see Ren experience other firsts too. Bring him more new foods to try, teach him more about life on land, give him more objects to examine. She wanted to be the cause of his happiness.

Oh.

Warmth spread through her chest and spilled onto her cheeks. The promise growing in the sanctity of her heart sank its roots a little deeper.

So that’s why Ren loved giving her things. Makoto could not deny the anticipation and subsequent burst of pride each time he enjoyed a sample of her cooking. It fueled her desire to learn more of his preferred flavors, as her detailed notes exposed, in order to make something he would really love.

Her heart thumped.

You haven’t eaten anything yet.

A piece of the braised meat Ren so clearly favored was held up to her lips and he looked at her expectantly. A heat wave crashed into Makoto, taking her under. Summer must be reaching its peak, the pier was suddenly sweltering and her face was on fire.

This was fine right? Ren looked so eager to share and she did agree to have some.

Tucking hair behind her ear, Makoto hesitantly opened her mouth allowing him to feed her. The tender piece practically melted on her tongue. Cooked to perfection, the savory, fall-off-the-bone beef failed to register on any of her taste buds. All her focus singled on the brief sensation of claw tips grazing her lips.

The dull murmur of the ocean and creaking of wood faded to nonexistent, replaced by deafening silence as the world ground to a halt. Makoto’s heart stuttered, failing to find footing on the slippery, molten mess of feelings that couldn’t decide whether to flutter or fall. Instead it settled on the compromise to prolong this middling state of emotional turmoil to her confused consternation.

Despite her mind being busy combusting in on itself, Makoto became hyper aware of Ren reaching for another piece of braised beef and the dangerous intent glinting in his eyes. Oh no. Ren was going to keep feeding her. Her heart couldn’t handle the intimacy–a word choice Makoto was not going to acknowledge further. She needed to put a stop to this before it spiraled.

Swallowing quickly, Makoto blustered, “I can feed myself, thank you!”

Ren blinked at her tone, but didn't seem disappointed. If anything, he appeared satisfied when Makoto rushed to pick at whatever was closest. Her cheeks burned.

On a later date, in the quiet of her house as she reassessed her notes, Makoto would come to the conclusion that providing food was significant in siren culture. A theory to be pondered over as she fried fish to share with him, but certainly not in the present moment as her heart hammered in her chest.

Good. It tastes better when shared, Ren signed, flashing a delighted grin.

Makoto paused mid-chew. In her panic to stop him, she blindly picked a strip of dried mackerel and didn't appreciate it at all. Willing her mind to focus on the flavor dancing across her tongue, it tasted the same as always. Savory with a hint of sweetness.

While delicious, it wasn't inherently better than when she sampled it in her kitchen a little over an hour ago. Yet Makoto would agree she enjoyed it more now than back then, even if she didn't have the mental awareness to recognize what she was chewing on. No, it wasn’t the food. It was the experience–the shared company.

Though she may be overcoming embarrassment and didn’t process the taste or texture of the bite hand fed to her, it left a lasting impact. Makoto would remember that braised beef as the best she’d ever made, a large part in thanks to Ren's obvious enjoyment and the surge of emotions associated with her own sampling.

Now that she thought about it, before meeting Ren, meals were nothing special. Her favorite dinners were less about the food and more the occasion. The days her father returned home, celebrating birthdays, holidays. Yes, it often consisted of her favorites, but it always seemed to taste better for those events in particular.

After her father passed and Sis grew even more distant, it wasn’t until Ren started gifting her fish and other ocean catches that Makoto started to love mealtimes again. His presence lingered with every bit of seafood she brought into her kitchen. And right now, Makoto would agree that this was the best piece of dried mackerel in town. Caught by him and prepared by her.

She could procure spices from around the world but all would fall bland in comparison. Ren's company was the greatest seasoning anyone could ask for. Makoto would, unfortunately, retain the embarrassing memory of him hand feeding her, but she didn't dislike it. Ren made her happy. Seeing his smile inevitably lifted one to her face as well.

Lost in her epiphany, Makoto startled as Ren leaned in, taking over her field of vision. His sharp eyes narrowed. Are you okay? Your face has been red for a while–Oh, it's getting redder.

“I'm fine!” Makoto squeaked, both hands raising to hide the evidence burning brighter at his call out. Clearing her throat, voice somewhat wobbly, she lied, “It's the heat. Pretty sunny today, isn't it?”

Accepting her answer at face value, Ren agreed. I like it, makes the water warmer. And we’ll have lots of rain and wind later.

The warm, gooey feelings froze, twisting into sailing knots. “What do you mean by that?”

Strong rain and strong wind, Ren tried explaining, casting his gaze skyward. Dark clouds.

“Do you mean a storm? Turbulent wind, waves, and rain. Sometimes thunder and lightning.”

Yes, that! Ren nodded gleefully, happy to gain a new word. There will be a big ‘storm’ tonight.

Dread dropped like an anchor in her stomach, sinking into the waters of a deep and primal fear. Any hint of red vanished from her cheeks.

“How can you tell?” Nerves skittered into her voice like small crabs across rock, scattering before the approaching shadow of a huge, uncontrollable force.

Of course Ren noticed.

In the sea. I can feel it. His hands fumbled, unable to explain further. Do you not like storms?

Makoto took a deep breath, ashamed. But if she couldn't be honest with Ren, a boy she'd witnessed at his most vulnerable, how could Makoto say she trusted him?

Pushing the demeaning words of Sis that always arose to the back of her mind, Makoto confessed her fears. How the dark terrified her as a child–it still did–combined with the booming thunder and screaming gale, she would hide away, trembling under blankets until it passed. How she used to run, crying into her father’s arms on the rare instances he happened to be home.

I'll fight the storm. I won't let it hurt you. Ren took both of her hands in his, gripping firm with conviction.

A wobbly smile surfaced at the silly notion. Already relieved he didn’t belittle her childish fear, Makoto’s anxiety abated some under the tempest of gray in his eyes. The one storm she loved to see.

“Thank you, but please don’t get hurt yourself. Warning me ahead of time is enough.”

It will arrive around evening, but I’ll protect you from it. I promise.

And Makoto believed him.

The sky darkened before sundown, heralding the storm just as Ren predicted. From the safety of her kitchen window, Makoto watched people hurrying home, caught by surprise in the sudden change of weather.

The wind picked up, stealing hats and laundry from the unprepared, meanwhile Makoto already ensured her belongings were safely bolted down or stored away hours ago. Dinner was ready, extra candles set out, and a towel waited by the front door in case Sis came home. However, no amount of preparation could fully calm Makoto’s nerves.

As night approached so did the roar of wind and rain. Nestled in bed, safely wrapped in extra blankets, Makoto set her glowing lantern on the nightstand and burrowed under the covers. Curling into a ball, she muffled her whimpers against the bed sheets. As if any noise or excessive movement would attract the monsters hidden in the dark to her fragile state.

Listening to the ominous creaks and groans of wood under assault by the storm, Makoto tried to pretend it was the usual sounds of the old pier. That the warmth of the blankets was actually the summer sun shining down and the red scallop shell clutched tightly to her chest was a webbed hand interlaced with hers. All poor substitutes, yet somehow granting a modicum of comfort as Makoto sought out scraps of Ren’s companionship.

She imagined him onboard the pier, the raging gray of his eyes challenging the torrent of rain, wind, and waves unafraid. A siren facing down a storm. A futile endeavor, yet Makoto intuitively knew Ren would try. Two similar forces of nature; one wild and dangerous, the other wild and beautiful.

Gentle warmth fluttered in a corner of her heart as soft and quiet as the dancing flame in her lantern. Makoto wrapped herself around that small light like a lifeline. Its glow protecting her sanity as she endured the menacing howl of the dark.

Muscles tense with fear, terrified to breathe too loudly, Makoto clung to the scallop shell and a promise. The only form of comfort to be found in this empty house.

At long last, the wind and rain quieted, dispersing into a light shower. Faster than anticipated for a monstrous summer storm, but she certainly wasn't complaining. Citing that as circumstantial evidence Ren fought it and won. Her exhausted mind finally allowed to rest, his triumph remained in her thoughts as she sank into a peaceful dream.

That night, Makoto fell asleep to the sea's distant lullaby. An ancient song that hushed the raging storm, asking it to pass on to other skies. To withhold its lightning for another day and cradle close its clouds. That night, Ren kept his promise.

After about two-thirds of summer dedicated to near daily practice, Ren could read simpler books on his own and Makoto could hold entire conversations with him without utilizing her voice. They still lacked vocabulary for many subjects and occasionally Ren faltered trying to explain himself, but in this burgeoning shared language, they found a connection like no other. His mutism rarely crossed her mind.

Despite being an active port town with bustling trade, a naval base, and many fishermen, very few locals knew how to swim well or at all. The lack of nearby beaches or shallows to wade through greatly discouraged most people from trying. They just had the busy port with its deep drop off.

Her father had known how and was adamant about passing on this potentially life saving skill to his two daughters. Makoto remembered being tossed into the ocean at an early age. The night terrors of the deep circled her sinking body and her frantic flailing did little to keep them at bay. Her father dove in to save her and had to take a gentler approach teaching her how to swim afterward.

Fear of the ocean followed Makoto through life, but not enough to keep her away. As long as she remained vigilant for rogue waves, followed her father’s teachings, and gave the ocean its due respect, she would be fine. If Makoto happened to fall off the old pier, she could swim back without issue. It was the thought of being at the sea’s mercy surrounded by the unknowable that scared her.

Something she needn’t worry about anymore. Not with Ren at her side. At least, that’s what Makoto repeated like a mantra as she trekked down to the pier, nerves buzzing with what-ifs and the embarrassment to come.

She wanted to do this. Ren always joined her on land, it was her turn to dive into the sea. Admiring how effortlessly he glided through the water, the graceful movements of his sleek black-red tail, Makoto wanted to swim alongside him. To give Ren a chance to introduce her to his world just as she did for hers.

So here she was, towel, spare clothes, and lunch packed in a basket, and the best ‘swimwear’ Makoto could reasonably make do with hidden under day clothes. A simple linen chemise tucked into modified drawers. Essentially underwear that was never meant to see the outside.

A light flush stained her cheeks since she got dressed earlier. This was incredibly improper. A massive social taboo. If anyone caught her, she would be beyond mortified. Societal expectations aside, the idea of baring herself in such a way to another under broad daylight had Makoto combusting weeks prior when she first committed herself to take the plunge.

But Ren was clueless about such modesties. When Makoto had asked, he said clothes were a hindrance in the water, so no siren wore any. At most stylish decorations or accessories, but nothing extravagant like what he saw on humans. It explained his mild interest in her attire.

In that respect, she felt assured Ren wouldn’t find her state of undress demeaning or act weird like other men might. Though her blush only deepened when he leaned onto the pier to greet her arrival. Able to spend all day with him thanks to summer break, she asked to meet in the morning before it got too hot out.

“Good morning, Ren.” Makoto set the basket down and avoided eye contact. “I have another surprise for you today.”

He tapped the pier in excitement, bobbing up and down to the accompanying splash of his tail wagging below. Ren’s cute reaction lured a genuine smile out of her, slightly settling some of Makoto’s nerves.

She quickly scanned the promenade behind them for any potential witnesses. While a serious worry, one that felt silly considering the old pier’s general isolation, the daily very visible siren, and having never done so since Ren’s collar was removed. With the coast clear–as it always was–Makoto’s fingers fidgeted around the hem of her shirt.

The only one making this awkward was her, but did Ren really need to watch her undress? Granted, he wouldn’t know any better unless she spoke up. Fumbling with the buttons, Makoto refused to look at him as she pulled off her day clothes, the massive blush adorning her features burning hotter. Mechanically folding and tucking them away in her basket, she finally peeked at Ren in a sideways glance.

As expected, he stared up at her puzzled. His eyes traced the newly exposed skin and underclothes with innocent curiosity, but his attention generally remained on her face as he waited. The significance of her disrobing was lost in the gap between land and sea.

It didn’t matter what she wore. Skirts, trousers, how much or how little skin Makoto exposed, Ren didn’t care. What did matter was her anxiety that he easily picked up on, concern starting to cloud those beautiful stormy eyes.

An anchor’s chain snapped, releasing a weight Makoto didn’t know existed around her heart. A new sense of freedom buoyed, once held down under the scrutiny of public opinion and cultural norms. Her very existence burdened under judgement and expectations of a system that actively tried to stifle her light. Out here, it was just Makoto and Ren.

Before he could ask, offer comfort, or leap onto the pier beside her, Makoto jumped. The pure cold enveloped her immediately, salty and sweet. Bubbles raced her to the surface and Makoto’s first breath exhaled in a gasp of laughter. Monsters made of fear turned tail and fled from the radiance of Ren’s answering ecstatic grin.

He circled her, observing from both above and below the surface how Makoto tread water, probably noting the inefficiencies of human legs in his home. Any leftover apprehension dissolved into nothingness when Ren finally drew close enough to touch, eyes alight with all the words he could not say.

“Swim with me,” Makoto said, taking a webbed hand and guiding him further out to sea.

He went willingly. Helpless against her call, Ren followed at her slow pace, unable to take his eyes off her. Occasionally Makoto’s legs brushed against a fin, but he largely kept his tail out of her way, content to glide alongside her until she finally let go of his hand.

“You make it look so easy,” she huffed, trying to swim faster while keeping her head above water. “Teach me?”

Seeming to snap out of a trance, Ren nodded. I can try. Keep going and I’ll give pointers.

He dove under and Makoto kicked off into a breaststroke just as her father taught her. Alone above the waves, that creeping dread tried crawling into her stomach, but this wasn’t like those swim lessons from childhood.

Webbed hands caught her legs after a frog kick, keeping her body streamlined and puppeted them in an up and down manner. Making minor adjustments to her form–toes pointed, body parallel to the surface, small kicks–Makoto felt the rush of water as he shot forward to steady her sinking upper body. Hand in hand, Ren pulled her along, giving Makoto a breather.

I don’t know what to do with your hands, he confessed, releasing briefly to sign.

“That's okay, we’ll figure it out together. Keep pulling me, please.”

As Ren towed, Makoto experimented with one arm paddling water in different ways and soon enough found a style complementing the streamlined kicking. Even when floating on her back, similar motions propelled her with greater efficiency than her father’s method, faster and easier, boosting her confidence in the water.

After some time practicing, simply drifting, and Ren launching her into the air once, they broke for lunch back on the pier. Towel wrapped around her shoulders, Makoto laughed and ate without a thought to her state of dress.

Swimming today?

“Yes, just let me– Ren!”

The troublemaking siren catapulted out of the water in a massive leap. Wrapping his arms around Makoto, he pulled her overboard with him. Cradling her to his chest, Ren twisted as they fell so his back hit the water first in a loud splash.

“You!” Makoto spluttered once they surfaced.

Me, he shook with a silent snicker.

Holding her close, Ren floated on his back keeping Makoto on top of him. Using his body as a buoy, his fins worked to sustain her above the surface as he lazily drifted on the waves.

She squeaked against his bare chest, a scolding shriveling on her tongue. Pushing out of his loose hold proved to be a mistake as well. Accidentally straddling him, Makoto quickly rolled off to tread water on her own, needing the ocean to cool her furious blush faster.

“What if someone saw that!” she hissed, lightly splashing water at him to hide her fluster. “Do you realize how bad that would look to anyone else? They’d think you attacked me.”

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the promenade. Is that a real concern? After spending every day on the pier together?

Makoto couldn’t admit to having the same thought process when she was supposed to be annoyed. “A big splash will attract attention. That’s why I said no more jumps last time.”

Then let’s go somewhere else. Ren grinned, flipping upright. I know a secret spot.

“Where is it?”

It’s a little far, but you can hang on and I’ll take you there.

She considered what that meant, her eyes flicking up to the pier. Little by little, she followed him out deeper. “Okay, but I need to put my clothes away first. You didn’t let me finish.”

Makoto playfully glared at him and Ren had the decency to look sheepish as she swam by. Though the tide was rising, the water level was low enough to give her trouble climbing out. It was honestly impressive Ren managed to jump so high, but Makoto wouldn't admit it out loud. He didn’t need a reason to do it again.

Without being asked, he dove below and wrapped his hands around her ankles, maneuvering her feet to stand on his shoulders. Bracing herself, she stood straight as he surged upward, boosting Makoto easily onto the pier. A trick that took them many attempts to learn and came so easily now.

Storing her clothes away, she stared long and hard at the basket, torn between attempting to take it with her or leaving it behind. She was never afraid of it blowing away thanks to all the good weather they were having, and would have to trust today would stay the same.

“All right, I'm ready,” Makoto said, slipping back into the water.

Get on, Ren signed, ducking down and retracting his dorsal fin.

‘Get on’? Or did he mean ‘hold on’? She awkwardly grabbed onto his shoulders from his side. Even underwater, Makoto saw his incredulous expression. Her face burned, but she stubbornly refused to ride him. Maybe Ren thought nothing of it but she did.

Makoto nodded for him to go and he listened, swimming slowly for her sake, utterly inefficient. Ren's slippery scales didn't allow for a good grip and she fell off several times before admitting defeat.

Through her mounting frustration at these multiple failures, his patience soothed her heart. Not once did he complain or shame her for trying a clearly ineffective method, but it must be tiring. She couldn’t keep soldiering on at his expense.

“Let’s try it your way,” Makoto sighed, complying at last.

Climbing onto Ren’s back, her arms circled his neck, careful to avoid brushing gills. Webbed hands securely held her legs in place. Just like a piggyback ride. That's all this was, perfectly normal.

He started off slowly, gradually picking up speed as Makoto adjusted. It was one thing to watch him swim around the pier, another to swim with him, but neither demonstrated what he was capable of.

Ren was fast. Even encumbered and skimming the surface restrained, Makoto had to hang on tightly or else be blown away by the rush of water. It was the most thrilling experience of her life. Salty sea spray danced around them, making way as Ren cut a clear course. Any reservations caught the wind and flew back to shore along with her laughter.

She no longer recognized the coast they passed by and all around her was deep blue, but Makoto knew no fear; only the heart pounding excitement of speeding through the sea. Here with Ren she was perfectly safe. A truth she whole-heartedly believed in.

After a long while, Ren aimed straight for a cluster of large rocks worn smooth by waves. Slowing his pace, he weaved around them revealing a hidden shoreline. A small, white sand beach protected from the ocean by its guardian wave breaking rocks and from inland by thick, windblown trees and shrubbery. Perfectly isolated on all fronts.

His head emerged and he let her off. Able to stand in the shallows, Makoto made her way closer to shore.

“I didn’t know there were any beaches nearby.” She marveled at the feeling of sand between her toes.

Turning to Ren, Makoto exhaled loudly, holding back a laugh at how low down he was. Well, she did walk to where the water rose around her hips and confined to the sea, he couldn’t go much higher.

His fins perked and he grinned up at her, shark teeth as sharp as ever. What do you think?

“It’s amazing! I’ve only visited a beach once a long time ago with Dad and Sis.” The weight of her words hit Makoto a beat later.

She spoke them freely without thinking and the remembrance of bygone days didn’t hurt. Her heart only held fondness over that precious memory.

Makoto’s bright smile softened, but unending warmth flowed. “We had to ride in a cart to get there. I remember it took a very long time, but once we arrived, the beach stretched on forever. I couldn’t see the end.”

Ren leaned his head against her side and Makoto absently ran her fingers through his wet locks.

“We built a sandcastle, all three of us. Then Sis and I played a little too close to the water and got soaked,” Makoto chuckled. “We weren’t supposed to go in and got in trouble.”

You’re in it now. Ren’s eyes gleamed with mischief, but his tail loosely curled around her legs. He knew her ongoing struggle with grief.

Makoto dropped to her knees. Now at eye level with him she smirked, “So I am.”

She broke the rules just by meeting Ren. From rescue to recovery to all the precious days that followed; Makoto never considered herself a rebel, but she strayed a little more each day with no regrets.

His head fins fluttered and she felt it ripple along his tail, brushing her underwater. Ren always got so cute when he did that.

“Come on, show me around your secret beach,” she said, patting his scales.

It's yours now, too.

Ren and Makoto’s secret cove. Their hideaway. Yes, she liked the sound of that.

Her gaze swept along the tiny beach. Pieces of what appeared to be a shipwreck littered the corner closest to the seaway entrance. Something reflected light from atop the weathered wood.

A small pile of treasure glimmered in the summer sunshine. Stacks of gold coins, strings of jewelry, and an ornate candelabra. The prickle of dread tarnished any potential excitement over such a discovery.

“Wait, Ren! Someone might be here,” she hissed, pointing to the treasure. Makoto would be damned if she let some washed ashore sailor or pirate catch him now.

However, Ren continued up the beach unperturbed. Flopping onto the sand, he said, I put it there. Humans like shiny gold, right? If it goes missing, then I know that someone came by. But birds also knock it down sometimes.

To him, these were pretty trinkets with no value. Items to be collected for amusement or hobby, not for wealth and fortune. Did Ren take note the way her eyes widened upon first being presented such as gifts? Did he watch humans at the docks? See how they coveted coins and jewels?

Ren only knew a life without a commerce system, where the truest riches took the form of a shared meal in good company. A simpler and freer way of living, one that hinted at how important Ren considered their time spent together.

Makoto swallowed. Another inkling of something that made her heart flutter to ruminate over later.

“Do you live here?”

No, I live under the pier.

“What? Since when?” Makoto never considered that possibility. Did this mean she was always visiting Ren at home? She thought it was just a safe meeting place.

Since you brought me there, Ren casually dropped as if it didn't change Makoto’s entire perspective on the location. It took a while to make it nice. Very dirty and barren at first, but now it's comfortable.

When she finally joined him on the beach–she'll overthink the pier situation later–Ren half-dragged, half-galumphed like a seal up to the wreck. The action looked unpleasant and exhausting. She frowned at the sand coating him.

Patting the shipwreck, he breathed heavily. I found it out at sea and moved it here.

Makoto took her time inspecting what was the broken bow of a large skiff missing its bottom, and complimented his work. Ren came up with a creative approach to security based on the behaviors he observed in humans. Yet her stomach churned at his apparent fatigue from climbing this far up the shoreline.

He soaked up her praise and offered her any of the accumulated treasures, to which Makoto had to refuse. “No, thank you. I don't want you to go through the trouble of replacing anything. Instead, will you build a sandcastle with me?”

You mentioned that earlier, what is it?

“It's– Here, let's move to a better spot and I'll show you.” Makoto reached around his torso and tail. “May I?”

He looked bewildered for a second then nodded and she lifted him, holding him securely against her. Ren was far heavier than the last time she held him, and to Makoto that meant everything.

Sand stuck to her, but she didn't care, there would be more of that soon anyway. The urge to alleviate his struggle on land overpowered everything else. His fins flapped wildly again, but he melted into her arms after a moment clearly at ease.

Just as Makoto trusted him in the sea, Ren placed his faith in her on land. Little by little, they followed each other out deeper.

They started spending more time at their secret cove than they did at Ren’s pier. Makoto wanted to make the most of the limited summer days before school restarted and the water got too cold. She prepared airtight containers with lunch and occasionally dinner so they could stay together from dawn till dusk.

The shipwreck slowly accumulated more of their things, becoming a proper hideout. Towels and a parasol for Makoto, a random assortment of useful tools for Ren, and trophies scavenged from their adventures exploring the coastline. If Ren’s pier was her first home, the library her second, then the cove became her third and perhaps favorite.

Wading through the shallows back to their beach after a long diving exercise, Ren started a war. Always one to cause trouble, he lagged behind, waiting for the perfect opportunity. The second Makoto turned to look back, a quick flick of his tail sent a wave of water splashing at her face.

She remained perfectly still, leveling Ren with an unamused stare. Makoto let him stew like that, his glee soon turning into nervous fidgeting. When he tried to apologize, she pounced, slapping the water and sending a wave back at him. From that point it was all smiles and splashes.

Ren may have had the natural upper hand, but Makoto gave as good as she got. Forcing him to retreat beneath the surface, she considered herself the winner–it was clearly cheating otherwise–but Ren had a final card to play.

In an explosion of water, he lunged, tackling Makoto into the waves. They tumbled feet over fins, rolling in the surf. He held her close as they washed up on the beach, Ren landing on top.

His chest pressed against hers, separated only by the thin fabric of her wet chemise, lean muscles solid. Heat pulsed within her. A new fire, unlike anything Makoto felt before, flared hot and bright, responding to the delicious weight of Ren pinning her down.

Webbed hands planted on either side of her and he quickly lifted himself off to Makoto’s own baffling disappointment. Hovering over her, worried eyes scanned Makoto for any injuries, but Ren failed to see she was left paralyzed. Bewitched by the silent siren.

She wanted to tangle her fingers in his unruly wet hair and pull him back into her embrace. To cup his cheeks and wrap her legs around his long, beautiful tail. To melt into his side so that their shadows were indistinguishable from each other.

Dangerous, wicked thoughts.

A wave rolled around them, seawater lapping up to her ears and spurring Ren into action. Both his arms and tail wrapped around Makoto, pulling her with him as Ren rolled to his back. Their positions reversed. Now she lay on top of him.

Ren always did this, resting Makoto on his body like it was his personal duty to keep her afloat. But now she was drowning–drowning in him. Rationale screamed at her to get off and get away. That this was highly inappropriate.

Yet one hand curled against his chest. The other looped around his shoulder, digging into the soft sand. Makoto closed her eyes and tucked herself against him, feeling Ren's heartbeat spike in time with hers.

She wanted this. She wanted him. Makoto could only deny these blooming feelings for so long.

Hesitant claw tips traced circles around her back as they rested in the gentle surf. The promise rooted in her heart sang sweetly.

She wondered if all the good weather they were having was thanks to Ren. If he trapped the summer storms in his eyes so that she may enjoy calm waves and sun.

She wondered if anyone told Ren stories of the world above when he was young. Of land monsters who built floating fortresses and dropped strangling nets into his home, plundering it for resources.

She wondered if Ren found the surface world as dangerous as it was beautiful.

Fingers smoothed over the red scallop shell, an absentminded habit she picked up, as Makoto pondered about Ren’s never-ending presents and the intentions behind them. Gaze drifting around the treasures lining her room, they shined in a new light now that she finally realized her own feelings.

It all started with the scallop shell. That was the first instance of something changing in Ren’s demeanor–a subtle sweetness–and when the gift giving ramped up. The catches brought to her prior felt different in a way Makoto was unable to fully explain. That was more of a ‘thank you’ rather than an endeavor to woo her, but she had no evidence other than an unreliable gut instinct.

She stared at the shell’s vivid coloring. Out of all the presents, this one reminded Makoto of Ren the most, perhaps because the colors matched his beautiful, black-red tail near perfectly. That was deliberate on his part, wasn’t it? He offered a symbolic piece of himself and she accepted, unintentionally signaling to Ren he could pursue her affections.

Although he must have recognized she was oblivious to his courting attempts. The communication barrier holding him back surely was frustrating, yet he persevered. Maybe he wouldn’t stop trying until she clearly rejected his advances.

Oh god, the marlin debacle. His peacocking. It was all starting to make sense. How could she be so blind? Makoto’s head dropped into her hands, heat creeping onto her cheeks. She knew Ren had been showing off for her, but not like that!

Makoto had admired his glowing health from a purely clinical standpoint. Happy to see his ribs retreat under muscle, she was accustomed to his bare torso right up until the point she was pressed against it.

Or maybe she was seeing only what she wanted to see. Inventing intentions where there was simply innocence. He never said anything! It didn't help that Ren genuinely loved to see her happy and cared about her well-being.

…Makoto wanted to smack herself.

Summer was ending. School was due to start in two days, severely limiting their time together and ability to visit their hideout. It was by far the best summer of Makoto’s life. Ever since meeting Ren, her life was changing. She was changing. Makoto could look in the mirror and scarcely recognize the puppet-like girl she used to be.

While Ren was the catalyst, he didn’t change her–she changed herself. He merely presented a reason to try. In hindsight, her developing infatuation was only natural given their current collision course.

Bringing the scallop shell to her lips, Makoto allowed herself to sink into that bubbling promise overflowing from her heart. She could hazard a guess what Ren’s rare forehead touches meant. Perhaps tomorrow she would find the courage to teach him the human equivalent.

“I love you.”

She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, little more than a light peck, but heat exploded throughout her body at the contact. Pulling back, she shyly watched Ren lick his lips, eyes bright with curiosity.

Disappointment slightly dampened her mood at his inherent lack of comprehension, but Makoto brushed it off as quickly as it came. Theirs was a relationship built on patience and a mutual desire to understand one another. She could wait for Ren to solve the riddle presented, though maybe a few hints were necessary.

Already she could see the gears turning as he puzzled out the new experience and word, attempting to decipher the meaning. A pleased smile, another lick across his lips, nervous shifting of his tail. He seemed to enjoy the kiss, but it was the quiet blooming hope that took Makoto’s breath away.

If she read him correctly, Ren had made his heart clear long ago. Back when they were still new to the language developing between them. Before she dared to consider feelings beyond friendship.

She pressed her body flush against his, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Makoto refused to let her confession fall between cultural gaps and language barriers. Winding her arms around him, one hand tangled in his salt coated hair and pulled his forehead down to hers. Earnest red met widening gray in a siren’s kiss.

An array of emotions filtered through those gorgeous stormy eyes too fast for Makoto to catch before settling on immense joy so pure, so familiar, it rivaled the day she removed his collar. Shark teeth displayed in a dopey grin that would look ferocious to anyone else, but to her was simply adorable. Webbed hands pulled her impossibly closer as Ren tenderly pressed back. His excitement rolled off in waves and Makoto, a willing victim, drowned in his happiness.

They were on the same page writing the same line in differing script. Recording lessons of language and love, then coming together to create the translation. Studying together, studying each other, slowly but surely becoming fluent in all things Makoto and Ren.

And of course, the best method to learn any new vocabulary was through repetition.

“I love you.”

Makoto pressed her lips to Ren's, chaste and sweet, then rested her forehead against his.

“I love you.”

Another kiss, longer and languid. Ren chased her lips when she pulled back.

I love you.

A siren’s kiss, lingering to stare into each other’s lovestruck gaze.

I love you.

An exploratory kiss to the corner of Makoto’s mouth. At her encouraging smile, Ren ventured forth, mapping her face with his lips to her steady stream of giggles.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Makoto would never hear the words she craved, but that was okay. Ren engraved his declarations of love to her lips, face, to any skin he could reach. Spelling it out with more detail than any dictionary in a language wholly their own.

“I love you.”

Whenever Makoto arrived at Ren’s pier, he always greeted her with a kiss and lovestruck smile. A human kiss, a siren kiss, sometimes both, and he could not stop touching her.

Makoto never expected him to be such a cuddler–don’t get her wrong, she definitely was not complaining. Whether by hand or fin, somehow, he was always in contact. Ren practically glued himself to her side, making her partings that much more difficult.

Often she got lapfuls of giddy siren demanding her full attention, but Ren was just as eager to pull her onto him in an embrace as well. Though Makoto’s favorite besides the kisses, and there were a lot of kisses, were the quiet moments of simply laying together on their secret beach, legs and tail entwined.

“You look beautiful, Sis.”

Adorned in her most formal and expensive dress, Sis stood in front of the mirror making minor adjustments. Unlike the usual wide skirts and elaborate gowns of the current fashion trend, she wore a simpler dress that was no less elegant than those of the upper class. Easier to move in, yet demanding respect from those around her, she was sure to leave an impression on even the most antagonizing dignitaries.

Perhaps the style displayed their humbler status, but anyone who dared to give Sis grief would be met with a glare as sharp as her tongue. She was no demure lady to be trampled over; beneath the surface lurked a leviathan. A sea monster greater than a siren. One Sis was not shy to unleash on those who belittled her.

“Thank you,” Sis smiled–actually smiled–at Makoto’s reflection. “Even if I tell you not to wait up for me, you will anyway, won't you?”

“Of course. Someone needs to untie you.”

Sis grimaced. “The back laces.”

“The back laces,” Makoto nodded sympathetically.

Impatient knocking rapped at the front door. A pompous coach was sent to pick up Sis, a luxury bestowed just for this evening. Their local government couldn't allow one of their own, especially a lady, to appear less than perfect before visiting officials. Sis already shared her disdain that their governor was out sick and she would have to pick up the slack.

Makoto saw her at the door. “Good luck, Sis.”

“I hate relying on luck,” she muttered, slipping into the leviathan. Before Sis entered the carriage, she rounded on Makoto much to the driver's annoyance. “Don't do anything foolish tonight.”

Leaving her warning vague in the presence of another, Sis departed for the main docks. The pride and joy of their navy's fleet, a third rate ship of the line awaited her attendance for the annual administrative reception.

Of course Sis correctly guessed who Makoto planned on visiting in her absence, and the insinuation unleashed a swarm of butterflies. Leaning against the inside of the door, Makoto hid her face in both hands. A lovely shade of red bloomed across her cheeks almost as vibrant as the scales she so loved.

“It's not like that,” she grumbled to herself.

If the cannon fire and explosions were not enough to summon Makoto to her windowsill, then the frantic clanging of alarm bells would have.

Two ships sailed into port the day before, unremarkable as any other. Ships that Makoto and Ren had debated over whether they were navy or merchant. Now one actively fired into town and bombarded the naval base, while the other grappled onto the ship holding the administrative reception. Where Sis was.

Still dressed in work clothes from spending time fishing with Ren, Makoto scrambled for her boots and sprinted out the door. Even in the dark of night, she didn't need a lantern to find her way to Ren's pier, knowing the route by heart. A skill that proved godsend when she had to quickly duck into a shadowed alleyway as raucous laughter followed by firelight interrupted her path.

Several groups of pirates jeered and hollered their way through the streets, looting and burning houses on the far side of town out of cannon range. A coordinated attack. With the naval base under barrage and raiding parties scattered anywhere from the main docks to the middle class quarters, the navy and townguard were left scrambling. Moored further out at sea, there would be no help coming for Sis.

Slipping through the shadows, Makoto took to the backstreets avoiding any light. She needed to get to Ren. She needed to save Sis.

One more turn and the promenade came into view. Just a little further. The sanctuary of the pier beckoned.

“Gotcha!”

Makoto yelped, blindsided. Roughly yanked back by her arm, she nearly fell, tripping into a hard body. A burly man smirked down at her, cruel delight in his eyes. Moving on instinct, she spun around and delivered a swift kick straight to his crotch. The man released her cursing loudly, and Makoto shot off like a bullet, never so thankful to be wearing boots and trousers.

Multiple angry shouts warned of more pursuers joining the hunt. Sparing a glance back, two other men chased after her; set on the easy, lone prey. Although they had the advantage of longer legs, their swords and other gear strapped to their sides hindered each step.

The weight of their weaponry slowed them down and Makoto prayed it would be enough. She just needed to reach Ren’s pier. The pitch black sea, once a nightmarish void, now her greatest ally. If the majority of the navy couldn't swim, she bet the same applied to pirates.

From the flickering torchlight in the pirate's hand behind her, Makoto could barely make out the first few planks of the pier. The peaceful sound of lapping waves welcomed her home.

Heavily breathing in that sweet, salty air, the promise of safety gave her tired legs a burst of energy. She just had to clear the wave breaker rocks along the promenade and dive in. Best case scenario, the pirates would believe she fell in on accident and drowned. They wouldn't see her in the dark hiding beneath the pier.

That divine creak of wooden planks heralded refuge close at hand, then groaned in warning as intruders broke into their sanctuary. The next thing Makoto knew was pain.

Shoved face first to the ground, immovable weight pressed against her back. A knee dug in just offset of her spine, causing her to cry out. Both of her arms were roughly pulled behind her and held in a bruisingly tight grip. The pier wailed in anger.

“Heh, looks like we’ve got ourselves a good one,” the torch holding pirate sniggered, speaking as if they'd caught a prized fish rather than a person.

The man kneeling on her back twisted her head at a painful angle to get a look at her face. He whistled, “You’ve got spirit, girlie. I wonder how long you'll last before breaking.”

“Let go of me!” Makoto snapped, trying to wiggle free. They ignored her.

“I'll break ‘er in, alright,” a third man arrived, growling. The burly one she kicked.

“Oi, Cap’n doesn’t like damaged goods!”

The three pirates squabbled, but Makoto didn’t dare listen to the vulgar details, choosing to drown them out under the thunderous pounding of her heartbeat. At the mercy of monsters, frenzied thoughts raced. Jumping between half-baked plans, should-haves, and pervasive fear, she was unable to find a method of escape.

Facing out to sea, the all consuming black devoured what little light emanated from the singular torch. Actually, peering between planks, the sheen of unmoving, wet seaweed lay limp. An inexplicable detail that cut through the white noise of her panic.

Makoto couldn't hear waves. Instead there was a continuous rush of water building.

And building.

And building.

New hands grabbed at her legs, jerking her attention back to her captors. Revulsion and horror screamed in defiance. Kicking as wildly as possible, the offending touch receded, replaced by mocking laughter.

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this,” the burly pirate chuckled.

“Just make it quick,” the one holding her down complained.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll–”

“Wave!”

Water roared, crashing onto the pier and promenade with deafening might. The sheer force of nature more intimidating than any man. Yet miraculously, only a rolling swell washed over her legs, soaking from her boots to her knees. Between the planks, the ocean reached up to kiss her. A gentle caress in the wake of such breathtaking power.

Plunged into darkness, the man holding her down swore and his weight lifted. Calling for his companions, he cautiously stumbled toward the promenade. The pirate holding a doused torch answered, hacking up lungfuls of water. The burly one did not.

Sitting up, eyes adjusting to the darkness and traces of moonlight, Makoto stared at the empty pier in shock. It happened so fast. In a blink, a monster was swallowed whole. No chance to cry out, no way to fight the flood, no surfacing remains. He was just gone. Dragged out to sea by a wall of water and consumed.

This never happened before. In all her years, even in her father’s stories, Makoto never heard of rogue waves sweeping over the pier nor exploding onto the promenade. And here she sat, witnessing first hand the devastation wrought. The sanctity of the pier, an illusion of safety Makoto deluded herself into trusting, drowned in the yawning abyss.

The ocean was uncontrollable.

The ocean was unpredictable.

The ocean was–

Rising from the depths, a splash cut through the night. Ren pulled himself on deck between her and the promenade. Ignoring the pirates, he had eyes only for her.

“Ren,” Makoto croaked. She reached for him and he caught her trembling hands in a firm grip.

No, he couldn’t be here. He can’t be seen. The pirates would kill him. Or worse, they’ll bind his freedom and stuff him in a too small tank.

“Ren,” she tried again, voice still shaken. “Ren, you have to leave. You have to–”

“Siren!”

She fearfully looked over his shoulder. In the darkness, Makoto couldn’t see the pirates’ expressions but recognized the pale glint of metal beneath the moon. A sword, a gun, something was drawn with the intent to harm. But Ren didn’t acknowledge them. Didn’t turn to look.

Rage simmered beneath a deceptive calm. A stillness that set her nerves on edge like awaiting the boom of thunder after a lightning strike. She stared directly into the eye of the storm and recognized the anger first sighted back inside a glass prison.

A wave is not a rogue if accompanied by a tempest. Ren was as wild and dangerous as he was beautiful–the nightmare her father warned her about.

She saw the siren.

Ren took both of her hands and placed them firmly over her ears, his own webbed ones clasped on top. His chest rose with a deep inhale. A silky, smooth baritone vibrated in the hollow of her bones, echoing in the marrow. An ancient song as old as the sea. Swelling, sweeping, sinking, suffocating.

He pressed his hands tighter, keeping Makoto afloat as the melody tried to drown her. Searching her eyes intently for a moment, Ren then turned his head and threw his song out into the night.

Even though she couldn’t hear it, Makoto felt its weight washing around her like waves upon the shore; rolling against her soul, whittling her down like sea glass, and inviting her out to the deep. Tempting her to let go. To indulge in that dulcet voice she secretly longed to hear.

Forcing herself to follow his gaze, she startled at the closeness of the pirates. Both of them walked toward Ren as if in a dream–eyes glazed over, empty hands outstretched. Lured by the siren’s sweet call, made docile and meek. Ren knocked them into the water with his tail one by one, then dove in after them, his song reaching its abrupt conclusion.

Left alone in the darkness, Makoto gasped for breath as if she held it this entire time. Maybe she had. Trembling, she wrapped an arm around herself in feeble defense, and a hand went to her mouth to stifle her whimpers. The endless black sea surrounded her.

Ren killed them.

Three horrible men, monsters in their own right, were dead and Ren had killed them. Their bodies never resurfaced, yet behind closed eyes, Makoto could see them. See their lifeless corpses, mouths open in a silent scream as creatures of the depths drew in for a taste.

She flinched as Ren returned with that telltale splash. Webbed claws reached for Makoto–dangerous, monstrous, murderous–and she recoiled, terror seizing her heart. He froze, hand hovering then dropping limp to his side.

This was Ren. Her Ren. Her best friend, her only friend. He would never hurt her.

One moment, she signed.

Taking slow, measured breaths, Makoto felt herself gradually calm. Not completely, but enough. Her legs declined to cooperate, but she shuffled over to Ren anyway. He didn’t move.

She took his hand, intertwining their fingers and at last felt relief. She was safe. Leaning into him, she pulled Ren closer, going boneless when he finally returned the embrace. Tears pricked at her eyes, but Makoto refused to let them fall. She couldn’t break down yet. They still had work to do.

“Thank you,” she sighed against his shoulder.

Ren squeezed tighter, resting his head on top of hers.

As much as Makoto wanted to stay like this, soaking in Ren’s care, cannon fire and screams echoed in the distance–a poignant reminder that Sis was still in danger.

Reluctantly she pulled away. “I need your help.”

Ren nodded, already agreeing without listening to her request, raising a brief smile to her lips.

“We need to save Sis.” Makoto pointed to the two ships grappled together in the bay. They had watched the administrative reception sail out what seemed like a lifetime ago. “We can borrow a skiff from the main docks. I know several should be moored there.”

She made a move to stand, but Ren placed his hands on her shoulders. I’ll go. You stay here.

“But–”

It’s too dangerous for you. Ren looked toward the docks and grimaced. Fire danced in the distance. They won’t see me in the water.

Makoto didn’t like it, but he was right. “Please, be careful.”

He leaned in then caught himself. I’ll be quick.

Watching Ren disappear into the sea, disappointment tugged at her heartstrings. Almost unconsciously, she touched her forehead. Makoto expected a kiss. It looked like he was about to. She knew he was about to, so why did he pull away?

Brushing aside her complicated feelings and intrusive thoughts, Makoto stood. Dwelling on either would impede her mission.

Running through some light stretches to dispel nervous energy, her soggy boots slipped and squelched in opposition. She really didn’t want to run around barefoot, but Makoto pulled them off and rolled up her pant legs, finding the pros outweighed the cons.

Her mind buzzed with anxiety the longer she had to wait, mind constantly drifting to the bodies hidden in the dark. She would pace if not for the fear of falling into the water. The seconds dragged out, each one slower than the last until finally she spotted an unmanned rowboat cutting through the waves straight toward her.

Pulling up along the pier, Ren held the boat steady for her to jump in. Despite all her knowledge on watercraft, this was the first time Makoto boarded one. It was a larger skiff, typically used by fishermen, with three seat planks. Two pairs of oars lay inside.

With Ren towing via a mooring rope, it didn’t take long to cross the bay, reaching their destination in a fraction of the time it took any other ship. As they neared, he popped his head above water, slowing their pace and keeping an eye out for trouble. Above, pirates transported stolen goods over to their ship. Occasionally a bark of orders rang out, but no sign of struggle. The fight was already finished.

Under Makoto’s silent directions, they drew to the ship of the line’s quiet prow. Banners and extra flags hung over the sides attached to the rigging, though still out of reach. Unsure how she was going to scale the massive ship, Ren patted his shoulder, motioning for Makoto to climb on.

We know how to do this, he signed.

Nodding, Makoto carefully stepped into place, holding onto Ren’s hands for balance. He dipped down, water coming up to her knees, squeezed in warning, then surged up. At the peak of his boost, Makoto jumped. Gripping onto the highly decorated bow, she was able to climb aboard.

Sneaking as close to the main deck as she dared, Makoto peered around her hiding spot. Bodies were carelessly kicked to the side as pirates continued to plunder. Government officials, visiting dignitaries, servants, none were spared. The grand reception to showcase their political and military might, naught but final meal rites spat upon by their executioners.

Makoto withdrew to cover. Eyes closed, head tilted back, she willed the nausea down. She didn’t know if she could do this anymore. The haunting possibility of finding Sis’ beautiful, bloodstained dress among the massacre threatened to crush her.

However, the cry of ‘captain’ enticed her to swallow her fear and look again.

“Cap'n Kaneshiro, the explosives are set. Ready to scuttle at your command, sir,” a gangly pirate reported.

“And the goods? How many did you get?” asked a short, portly man with slicked back hair resembling a wild boar's mane. He spoke with an air of casual authority.

Pirate Captain Kaneshiro–Makoto memorized his face.

“Only four women, sir, tossed in the brig. We’re still pulling up gunpowder and other supplies from storage.”

“Hmm. I’m surprised that many were onboard.” Then addressing the rest of his crew, Kaneshiro's voice boomed, “Hurry it up, dumb shits! Leave nothing valuable behind.”

Makoto tuned out the rest, already creeping back to the bow where Ren was waiting. They didn’t have much time.

They have Sis and other people captive on their ship, Makoto signed once her feet hit the skiff. They're probably held on the lowest deck near the stern.

You're going inside the pirate ship?

Makoto could feel his apprehension as if it were her own, but her heart burned in fierce determination. I can't let them take her.

He met her eyes with open fear. The swirling storm inside reflected her own inner turmoil. She didn't want to experience another close encounter with pirates, but losing Sis was worse.

Please, help me.

Ren's hand came up to his neck, tracing the scar.

“Please.”

You better escape, he reluctantly agreed, tugging the boat over.

Before she climbed on him for a boost into an open gun port, Makoto reached down and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Thank you,” she breathed against his lips.

Ren squeezed her hand.

“I will.”

Climbing through the gun port wasn’t easy with the heavy cannon in the way, but Makoto managed. Multiple footsteps on the deck above thumped back and forth, loading the looted supplies.

From the kegs of gunpowder left in a haphazard pile around the ladder up, it appeared Kaneshiro’s orders to move faster resulted in items being left on the upper decks and not properly stored away to her immense luck. She presumed most of the crew were sent ashore with their second ship.

Creeping across the gun deck, she found a couple ladders leading down to the lowest floor, but no light shone from below. She scowled. Were the captives held in the pitch black? Grabbing a nearby lantern off its hook, Makoto descended into the belly of the beast.

The first two rooms she tried were storage spaces. In the third, hushed crying was shushed when her lantern glimmered in the doorway. Locked away from the sun, cramped together in a too small cell like sirens in a tank, Sis and three other women sat in the brig.

“Sis!”

“Makoto?” Sis stood, hands gripping the bars. Her dress was torn in a few places, but otherwise appeared unharmed. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”

The other ladies crept forward, faces stained with tears.

“I’m getting you out,” Makoto said, dropping to her knees to inspect the lock. She could feel the emotions mounting, but she roughly shoved them down. She needed to focus or they’d run out of time. “Anyone who has pins, please give them to me. Hurry.”

The women twittered on trivial nothings and Makoto snapped, “You, your brooch. And you, your earing. Does anyone have a hairpin?”

The leviathan emerged and Sis practically ripped the jewelry off the first woman. “Do you want to get out of here or not?”

Under Sis’ encouragement, the ladies complied, amassing a pile of pins for Makoto’s use. Most were too delicate to hold the shape needed, but she’d make it work. The cell door was simpler than her padlock.

“Where did you learn to lockpick?” Sis asked, watching intently as Makoto worked with the finesse of an expert.

“Dad taught me a lot of things.” Not a lie, but not the truth either.

“And you retained this skill?”

“As a harmless hobby.”

A soft click of a pin falling into place saved her from further questioning, but Sis seemed to be drawing to her own conclusions. There would probably be an interrogation later. Makoto swung the door open and the women loudly clamored to escape only to be silenced by twin glares.

“I have a skiff outside that can fit all of us. Can any of you swim?”

Other than Sis, the answer was a resounding, but anticipated, no. Makoto quickly loosened Sis’ back laces to their gawking and left the leviathan to tear unnecessary skirt layers off the prim and proper. She needed to make an escape point. The gun port was scarcely wide enough for her, getting everyone through quickly wasn’t feasible. Her eyes strayed to the gunpowder kegs.

Sticking her head out the port, Makoto waved down Ren, signing her plan. He visibly sagged in relief at the sight of her and nodded, diving beneath the surface.

“Makoto–”

She jumped, startled by Sis suddenly at her shoulder. Sis had discarded her shoes, padding around the deck barefoot, bringing a wry smile to Makoto’s face. They really were their father’s daughters.

“The others are as ready as they’ll ever be. What’s the plan?”

Help me move– she started to sign. “Help me move a keg, we’ll make our own exit.”

Sis’ eyes glinted dangerously and for once, Makoto was happy to see it. But before she could take a step, Sis enveloped her in a powerful embrace.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered into Makoto’s hair.

Out here, somewhere between land and sea, piece by shattered piece, Makoto’s heart pressed into place. It would take far more time and effort from both sisters to truly mend it, but in this small moment, nothing else mattered.

Makoto hugged back just as fiercely, tears on the verge of falling. “Let’s go home, Sis.”

Together they hauled a keg of gunpowder to the wall as a bell clanged overhead. Outside, an explosion rocked the ship to roaring cheers. Seconds later, another explosion resounded, turning rowdy hollering into cries of panic.

The sisters pushed three caterwauling women overboard. About to jump in herself, Makoto froze at the sight of the endless black. At the nightmares lurking in the darkness. At the drowned men beneath a pier.

“Go!” Sis knocked her off the ledge and Makoto plummeted just as she did her very first swim lesson, arms flailing.

Except she knew how to swim better than anyone else here. Bursting to the surface, the cold water a wake-up slap, Makoto shook off her terrors. Sis entered the sea not far behind. Hurrying to the closest woman, the lady clung to Makoto in blind hysteria, nearly shoving her under if not for the webbed hands bracing underneath.

Ren ensured Makoto stayed afloat. His strength proved invaluable in hauling the woman onboard the skiff and helping Makoto retrieve the last. In the time it took Sis to reach the boat with her castaway, Makoto managed to climb aboard herself.

A gunshot rang out and loud curses followed. From the main deck, Captain Kaneshiro aimed a pistol and fired at them. Another miss. At this distance, they were a difficult target, but not an impossible one.

The sisters moved to the middle seat and each grabbed an oar. Sitting side by side, in sync with no words needed, they rowed. Every stroke strong and sure. As if they had done so all their lives under the guidance of their seafaring father. With them, his legacy proudly lived on.

A sudden sweep of waves caught their boat in a current bound for shore, and though she couldn’t hear it, Makoto knew the siren’s song carried her home.

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of an unprecedented tragedy, Makoto forgot to visit Ren. She didn't realize it until after her head hit the pillow that night, marking the first day since Sis stopped her that Makoto didn't meet him without prior notice of her absence.

Exhaustion weighed heavy on her limbs and it was already so late, she'd just bring him breakfast as an apology tomorrow. He'd understand.

School was cancelled for the week as families needed time to rebuild and grieve. After spending the whole day running around town and assisting where she could, Makoto promptly fell into a deep slumber.

Pale, bloated bodies floated on either side of the pier. Pieces were missing–fingers, toes, chunks of flesh–from the toothy kisses of the unknowns patrolling these waters. The ocean was calm, nearly still, and the corpses bobbed in place.

The wood whined beneath her boots, creaking like old bones as she made her way across. Heedless of the graveyard around her, she walked at a measured pace. Although she couldn't remember why, she needed to get to the end.

The pier stretched toward the empty horizon, plank after plank on an infinite, one-way track. Bodies continued to line both sides. Some wore sailor uniforms, others fine dress suits, all of them drifting face down. She walked on.

And walked.

And walked.

The endless sea spread in all directions. The pier kept going.

In what could have been miles or minutes, a body lay in her path–a burly man with a sword strapped to his hip. She knew this one.

As if responding to her fear, he rose, limbs contorting awkwardly to steady his waterlogged weight. An eyeball was missing, and she intuitively knew it had been plucked as a snack for a grinning monster with too many teeth. In its empty socket, a crab skittered deeper into his skull. The pirate lumbered toward her, undying hatred etched onto his remaining features.

She spun on her heel and ran. All the floating corpses started moving, jerking about like puppets on a string. They crowded against the pier, reaching for her. No matter how hard she pushed her legs, it was like trying to run underwater while her pursuers suffered no such issue.

A roar of wave prompted her to look back. She didn't want to, but the scene changed without her consent.

It reared up like a viper preparing to strike. A rogue wave, building bigger and bigger, swallowed the pier and bodies behind her. The cresting seafoam was made from millions of hands.

The drowned reached for her, straining through the wave as it crashed. The pier splintered and their many hands dragged her into cold darkness.

Makoto woke with a start, lungs heaving for air denied in the dreamscape. Curling into a ball, she stayed like that until the sun rose.

Makoto stared at the weathered wooden planks and murky harbor water from the promenade. Even at midday, sunlight never penetrated to the bottom. Only Ren knew what lay beneath the surface.

She took a single step onto the pier and recoiled at its creak. Instantly flashes of her nightmare clawed into her vision, overlapping with the memory of three pirates holding her down only to be swept away by the sea. The dead and drowned called for her, moaning for vengeance.

Makoto didn't visit Ren that day either.

The front door clicked shut and Sis entered the living room, a sigh escaping her. The bags under her eyes grew darker every day and the slight hunch to her shoulders screamed exhaustion. While Sis often overworked herself, Makoto never saw her this haggard.

“Welcome back. Dinner is almost ready,” Makoto greeted from the kitchen.

Sis hummed in affirmation, walking past to her room. Just before disappearing into the hallway, she halted and turned back. “I’m home.”

Stunned, Makoto stared in shock for a few seconds before brightening. “Welcome home!”

A trace of a smile curled at Sis’ lips as she left. A few minutes later, dinner was served and the sisters sat together at the table, both flagging under the endless labor for their town’s recovery.

“How was work?” Makoto asked. Generally, questions about Sis’ job were better left unspoken, but after that greeting, Makoto pushed her luck.

“Busy. The Governor returned not quite over his cough and has been scrambling to fill empty positions in the office with interim workers. He said he’ll look into promotions and permanent offers later when his hands aren’t so full,” she said seemingly neutral of the situation.

Makoto thought Sis would be happier at the chance to finally move up, but her tone said otherwise. She inwardly sighed in relief. Her Sis wasn’t so cruel to rejoice over the deaths of others for her own gain. Even that was too much for the leviathan.

“And since these people are all new to their positions…” Makoto started.

Sis nodded. “Inefficient and clueless of the details. But it is better than nothing. In the meantime, I’ve been frequently called to assist out of my department as I’m one of the few experienced personnel left.”

A solemn silence overtook them, and it finally hit Makoto what Sis must be going through at work. What would it be like to walk past rows of empty desks still littered with belongings knowing their owners were never coming back? To know she was one of the lucky few who escaped certain doom? To be the only member of the office onboard who survived that night?

Would it be like that at school?

Sis broke the silence, “When things have settled down, the Governor wants to meet you.”

“Me? What for?” She was leveled with an unimpressed stare and Makoto backpedaled. As uneasy as she felt to take all the credit, Makoto knew she had to. “I just wanted to save you. I didn’t do anything special.”

“Makoto,” Sis started in that no-nonsense tone, “you rescued four captives from an active pirate ship anchored in the middle of the bay. Reports state said ship was then sighted sinking not long after rendezvousing with their second. You did what no one else could.” She reached across the table and took Makoto’s hand. “Dad would be proud.”

Makoto choked on whatever answer she had prepared to downplay her daring heist. It really wasn’t fair when Sis played that card.

“Thanks, Sis.”

She chuckled, “I should be the one thanking you.”

Sis squeezed her hand and returned to her meal, leaving Makoto to regain her composure in peace. Fragments of her heart slowly clicked together, falling into place. Still shattered, but aligning in the way it was always meant to be. This house was finally becoming a home.

“I’m mildly surprised we aren’t eating seafood today,” Sis started conversationally, and Makoto felt her stomach drop.

“There weren’t many options at the market.” It was the truth, just not the reasoning. Makoto didn’t think she could handle fish for a while imagining what they might have feasted on. The drowned men laughed at her.

Sis hummed then her eyes widened as if struck by a revelation. “That boy you were seeing, the fisherman, did he…?”

It took Makoto a second to understand what she was implying. “Oh! No, Re– he’s fine!”

“Good,” Sis exhaled. “And his family?”

“He doesn’t have one,” Makoto answered, then winced. Maybe a little too honest there. “He lives alone.”

Sis jolted at that, thunder clouding her features. “Have you been in his house?”

Technically, the pier was his roof and she never saw his actual living space. “No, I’ve only met with him outside.”

The leviathan settled. “Hmm, I see.”

Makoto did not see. What was Sis thinking? This wasn’t an interrogation.

“Has he…” Sis seemed to be struggling and Makoto had never seen her at such a loss for words before. “Has he been well? No damage or loss to his property?”

Was Sis giving Ren a chance? Giving them a chance?

“None,” Makoto said, reeling from this unexpected consideration.

“Good. That’s… good.”

They sat in awkward silence. As nice as it was that Sis was finally opening up to the idea of Makoto seeing Ren–they needn’t discuss relationship status yet–she didn’t know how to respond to this sudden change of heart. Especially when she was dealing with emotional turmoil of her own in regards to his actions that night.

Out of her depth but head held high, Sis continued, “Why don’t you invite him over for dinner?” Makoto choked. “I would like to properly meet him. That was his boat you used, wasn’t it?”

Coughing into her fist, Makoto cleared her throat, mind racing with potential excuses. “Not exactly. We borrowed it. The docks were a mess and there were pirates everywhere, it was the safest one to take.”

“You did what you had to,” Sis approved. “Am I correct to assume he couldn’t join your rescue attempt due to the extenuating circumstances?”

Above the noise of anxiety and dead men’s tales, the fact neither sister would be safe at home were it not for Ren stood out as bright as the sun. Makoto met Sis’ gaze head-on, full of conviction. “He did everything he could to help me.”

And that was the truth.

Sis seemed pleased with her statement, vague as it was. “Work will keep me busy for the foreseeable future, but I’ll try to find time. I’ll let you know at least a day in advance.” She chuckled at Makoto’s unsuccessful attempt at a poker face. “Relax, I won’t send the navy on him.”

That was exactly what Makoto was afraid of.

Another day passed and she still had yet to visit the pier. Laying in bed, Makoto stared at the scallop shell placed on the pillow next to her. She hadn't seen Ren since that night, actively avoiding him and his pier, and he probably had no idea why.

Makoto hoped he thought she was too busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack, but that was an excuse to justify delaying a visit. The relief of walking away outweighed the guilt in the moment. It was unfair to him and she knew it.

She reached for the shell but hesitated. After everything Ren did for her, this was how she thanked him? Her hand fell away.

It wasn't just the nightmares keeping Makoto distant, although they played a large factor. She really was unsure how to face him after their disagreement. Makoto wrinkled her nose at the word; that implied opinions were shared.

The pirates tried to harm her and he killed them to save her. A good person did a bad thing to bad people. That was the crux of the matter wasn’t it? In this morally gray limbo, her confused heart was lost at sea.

Ren became the siren, a monster to slay other monsters for her sake. No, he had always been the siren, Makoto just never saw the ugly side. She wasn't afraid of his sharp edges nor bewitching song, though a little warning would have been nice, it was the fact Ren murdered people that Makoto shied away from. That her best friend was capable of killing.

A guardsman or navy member would have done the same in their position. Her father too. In fact, he probably did kill at least once and Makoto’s stomach churned at the thought.

Humans were just as monstrous if not worse than sirens. She witnessed first hand what people who turned to a life of piracy were capable of and knew what they planned to do with her. She watched the average ‘good’ person gawk and jeer at an emaciated boy locked in a box because he was a little physically different from themselves. Was ‘monstrosity’ a defining trait of a species or of a society?

Logically and legally, Ren’s actions were just. There were few alternatives to control the situation against the imminent threat and as an act of both self defense and in the defense of others, Ren used force to neutralize the danger. By law, all pirates were to be executed and may be killed on sight if caught acting with malicious intent.

So why did her heart cry out? Why did she abhor that lives were lost, even the ‘bad’ ones? Those pirates deserved punishment, there was no denying that, but was drowning really justice? Her moral compass was spinning, unable to locate the answer.

The day was drawing to a close and Makoto walked along the promenade toward the pier, though it wasn’t her intention to. Stuck in her head, unable to untangle the web of contradicting feelings and logic, her feet led her to what was once her safe haven to contemplate in peace. The place where Makoto would always retreat to even before meeting Ren.

It took a loud crash of water against the wave breaker rocks for Makoto to notice her surroundings. The pier stretched innocently ahead of her looking the same as always. Nothing hinted at the traumatic events that unfolded a few days prior. Where a scared little girl was pinned down by monsters only to be saved by a bigger one.

Frowning, she bit her tongue in self admonishment. Ren was no monster. Sirens were as much monsters as humans were, and thus neither species could be considered such. But individuals could be. Ren responded to an active threat the best way he knew how, so why couldn't she set this ball of anxiety aside and meet him?

The sun started to dip below the horizon, casting its final rays in warning of the encroaching night. Makoto didn't bring a lantern, she hadn’t planned on staying out this late. Any confidence she held in crossing the pier in darkness vanished when the first pirate was claimed by the sea. Another day of cowardice steering her course away.

Until she saw him.

At the end of the pier leaning against a post, Ren's head was barely visible above the water line, yet Makoto would recognize him anywhere. Alarm bells went off inside her head. He never came to the surface unless she was there.

Was he looking for her? Hopelessly waiting for Makoto–his friend, his love–to never return?

Did he see her walk away?

Makoto was marching down the pier before she realized what she was doing. Her uncertain heart stood at attention, the irresistible urge to comfort drowned out her own misgivings.

Reaching the end, she could see him through the gaps between planks staring at the darkening horizon. Why didn't he move when he first heard the squeaking of wood?

Makoto tentatively called out, “Ren?”

He didn’t turn immediately, facing the open ocean a few seconds longer before looking up to give a smile so forced it shattered her heart. She did this to him.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m so sorry for not coming sooner.”

Ren swam before her and Makoto dropped down to meet him. She reached her hand out, silently asking for his forgiveness or at least acknowledgement. If Ren wasn’t ready to accept her apology, Makoto would completely understand.

Stormy eyes downcast, he took her hand. His weak grip, so unlike his normal self, crumbled her heart further. Caught up in indecision, she failed to recognize how much her unexplained absence hurt Ren.

“I should not have abandoned you. It was wrong and unfair of me to disappear without saying anything after… after that horrible night.” Makoto paused, gathering herself. “You saved me. My sister and I owe you our lives.”

His gaze snapped to her at that. With only one hand he roughly signed, You owe me nothing. We’re equal.

It was so very Ren to take offense to that.

Makoto sighed, “Please, talk to me. You can be honest. I know I made a mistake and hurt you.” Despite her prior reservations, she would do anything to ensure he was okay. Makoto would not leave until then.

He weakly nodded. A fragile smile lifted as quickly as it fell. Pulling away, Ren spoke, Rescuing those women reminded me of the night I was captured.

Her now empty hand twitched, instinctively trying to reach for him at the unexpected admission. Makoto curled it over her heart–she would not steal his voice away.

Ren gazed back out to sea and she realized he was facing the direction of the sunken ship. His hurt ran deeper than Makoto could ever guess and she had left him to drown in it.

I always avoided humans, I never wanted trouble, he began, and already seemed weary, like the memory physically drained him. But one night, a woman was making distressed noises. Maybe I misunderstood, but I thought she needed help. As I swam closer, there was a man yelling. It looked like he was hurting her.

Ren grimaced. It was getting harder to see him in the dark, but Makoto scarcely noticed so enraptured by his story. The missing chapter she was always curious about, but never wanted to pry. Already, Ren proved himself in her eyes from just this much. He was not one to walk away from someone trapped in a tank.

They were on a pier next to a boat and he was trying to force her onboard. Without thinking, I jumped on deck between them trying to scare him away, but she ran to his side and he threw netting on me. I panicked, dove into the water, and got hopelessly tangled. Other men came and hauled me out. They beat me so I couldn’t sing.

Makoto reached for him, offering the same support Ren always gave her. He took her hand and they let the silence wash over them. No words were needed.

The parallel between her predicament and the woman’s were painfully obvious. Ren had tried an alternative to direct force and it landed him in a glass prison. For a stranger, he lost everything. For Makoto, he’d take no chances. Her grip tightened.

But that’s not how he started this tale and Ren reluctantly let go to finish retelling his nightmare.

All this time, I thought I got captured by a stupid mistake. A mistranslation. That she didn’t need help.

Frustration bled into his motions. Ren didn’t need a voice to inflect tone, Makoto heard it all loud and clear.

But when those women you rescued cried out, it sounded the same as that night. I realized it wasn’t a mistake. And it got me thinking, if the people we rescued knew I was there, would they have chosen the pirates?

His eyes implored her, begging for the answer and already knowing the truth. To humans, he would always be a sea monster, regardless if or how he helped. A creature worse than the humans who would happily unleash unspeakable evils upon their fellows to gain shiny pieces of metal.

“Possibly,” Makoto answered. Wasn’t this conundrum the opposite side of the same coin she brooded over? “But they judge the ocean by its surface and are ignorant of the beautiful world beneath.”

Ren deflated. You were scared of me, too.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. Ashamed, Makoto looked away.

In shock and blinded by fear, Makoto lost her bearings to the whirlwind of events. It wasn’t Ren who saved her, but the sea monster who spared her. She saw the siren. Makoto found him again once she calmed down, but the initial rejection was carved into Ren’s heart and remained a festering wound as the days passed.

At her silence, Ren wilted further. He started receding, head sinking underwater.

Makoto noticed too late. “Wait, Ren!”

He didn’t respond.

“Come back! Please!” she begged. Makoto couldn’t let it end like this. Couldn’t let him leave broken and bleeding.

A swish of fins propelled him away from the pier into darkness.

“At least hear me out!” Her fist pounded on the wooden board.

She glared at the pitch black waters concealing him. Twilight was ending, she didn’t bring a lantern, but none of that mattered. The furious fire stoked in her heart burned brighter than the sun.

Unbuttoning her blouse, Makoto tore off her clothes and jumped in after him. She didn’t need Sis to push her this time. The cold hit like a punch in the gut, but her own discomfort was an afterthought when Makoto might be seconds away from losing Ren forever.

Her large splash should grab his attention, but in case it wasn’t enough to call him home, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and dove. As a little girl, Makoto feared the monsters hiding in the dark–she still did–yet now she blindly chased after a siren with no regard for her own safety.

Makoto had been bewitched by Ren since the day they first met. Over the following months, he enchanted her heart so completely with his companionship and care, she was head over heels enthralled. Ren didn’t need the infamous siren song to lure Makoto into the deep, she would gladly face the ocean and ask it to drown her because she would be damned to lose her best friend.

Lungs starting to burn, Makoto continued her descent not knowing what direction she was headed, but stubbornly pushed on anyway. Primal fear clawed at the edges of her mind. Instinct screamed to retreat to the surface, but she shoved it aside. Makoto wouldn’t return without Ren–her dearly beloved whom she trusted with her life.

And he proved her trust was not misplaced. Webbed hands pulled her into an embrace, tucked her head against a familiar chest, and Makoto felt the force of water rushing past as Ren shot to the surface.

Breaching, Makoto greedily gulped down air, coughing as her lungs became reacquainted with oxygen. Ren held her upright, her own legs doing nothing as he kept her above water, a clear ‘what are you doing?!’ written on his face.

She leaned into him. Her arms circled his shoulders, their chests pressed flush together, and her legs wrapped around his tail, mindful of the fins. With him, Makoto was home. Whether on the pier, at the cove, or out in the open sea, home was wherever they were together.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Makoto rested her forehead against his and stared into his eyes, willing Ren to understand.

She saw him.

“I didn’t know what you were capable of. You drowning those men scared me, and for the first time, I realized the stories of sirens were true.”

Ren turned his head away, breaking their connection.

“But you did it to save me,” Makoto continued, raising a hand to his cheek. Thumb stroking scales, she coaxed that lovely gray back to her. “You protected me the only way you knew how. And I– I wouldn’t be here today if not for you. There’s nobody in the world I trust more.”

Tears fell from both of them, mixing with the sea. The hurt and heartbreak dissolved in the greater waters.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Makoto poured all her love out, “So, thank you, Ren. Thank you for saving me and helping me save the others. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for always supporting me in any way you can.”

Their foreheads pressed together. Drawn like the tides to the moon, they were helpless to resist the gravity of each other.

“Thank you for everything. And please,” Makoto’s voice cracked, “stay.”

Ren kissed her. I love you.

She returned his affections just as deeply–just as desperately. Makoto breathed the translation against his lips when they broke apart for air, only to come crashing together again to reaffirm their connection in the sweetest, saltiest kiss.

They would have a discussion about everything another day when they were less emotionally charged. She wanted both of them to be able to speak their minds. For now they drifted, seeking comfort in each other's loving embrace.

They would be okay.

The hallway was heavy with hushed whispers and sniffling. The student count dropped following the attack. Some were temporary leaves to help at home, others were permanent.

Those who remained stared at the empty desks dotting their classroom with hollow eyes. Denial and grief choked the air like smoke. Makoto may not have known them, but she mourned their loss all the same. This never should have happened.

The desk behind her remained vacant after the morning roll call and she felt her classmate’s absence like a knee digging into her back. A reminder of what could have been. Proof of what had been. Anger simmered in her soul.

They lay on the pier, legs and tail entwined. Makoto packed dinner though neither of them were hungry. She just wanted to hold and be held by Ren, and he was of the same mind.

Despite having difficulty putting her turmoil into words, Makoto confessed everything. The fear she felt that night, her disapproval of killing, the recurring nightmares–she left nothing unsaid. Ren held her through it all, claw tips tracing soothing patterns on her back.

By giving her anxieties a name and speaking it aloud in the security of Ren’s arms, its control on her lessened. The burden was eased sharing it with him and the tangled knot became less daunting to unravel.

When she finished her account, Makoto wanted to hear Ren’s side, but he shook his head and said they’d save it for another day. She was clearly still distraught and he could wait. He’d rather spend more time focused on her so Makoto could sleep easy at night. She kissed him long and deep for that.

After basking in each other’s love, they discussed the justice system, morality, and where Makoto’s beliefs lay. She still had no solid answer to her quandary, but talking it out with Ren gave her hope.

She had to ask. She didn’t want to, but she had to. It was the one subject Makoto forgot to bring up and only remembered once Ren presented her with his daily catch. Handed mackerel and crab, nausea rose, tying her stomach in knots. Alarm was painted all over Ren’s face when Makoto opened her eyes, needing a second for the queasiness to settle.

She wanted nothing more than to fall back into his arms and anchor herself in his steady love, but she was already pushing her allotted time. Sis ate dinner at home nearly every day now and Makoto needed to start cooking soon. With a heavy heart, she promised they would talk more tomorrow.

On the way home, Makoto passed off the fresh catch to a family with children who lost everything. Unlike her, they wouldn’t let such a precious gift go to waste.

Then tomorrow became today and while Ren expected an answer, as always, he never pushed. He trusted Makoto would tell him when she was ready. No more avoiding each other. No more hiding.

Makoto played with their interlaced fingers as she swallowed the bile rising in her throat instead of words. It took several attempts to ask what happened to the bodies of the deceased, her mind wandering to the gloom beneath the pier. To the unknowns that must have feasted on human remains.

It turned out she was indeed correct. Ren uncomfortably described the shark feeding frenzy that descended shortly after the ship of the line sank. Hundreds of sharks gathered, attracted to the blood and sound. That was how he disposed of the three pirates; escorting them to the grisly banquet and needing to avert his eyes in revulsion.

Ren couldn’t stand it either, and it spawned nightmares of his own involving Makoto, to which she pulled him into her embrace, tucking his head close to her heart. At least he confirmed only sharks and their entourage of remoras and pilot fish enjoyed the meal–all things she had never eaten nor will ever try.

Neither of them liked the death that took place that night, both seeing it up close for the first time. The difference separating Makoto from Ren was experience and the resolve to do whatever was needed. She nearly lost everything. He already did and would not allow it again.

“So all this time…” Makoto trailed off rethinking her statement and amended, “Ever since the collar came off, you’ve been able to sing?”

Ren nodded.

“Why didn’t you say anything? If you can talk, why hide it behind hand gestures?” She wasn’t mad, Makoto wanted to hear Ren’s reasoning and gave him the benefit of the doubt, but a small dose of hurt slipped into her voice.

I didn’t mean to hide it. Ren shifted uncomfortably. Sirens don’t talk, not like humans do, we sing. Can only sing.

Makoto brought a hand to her chin in thought. A singing siren. Her mind conjured up every stereotype passed down through tales and compared it to her own first hand experience. It wasn’t a good look. Had Ren surprised her with a song right after his throat healed, Makoto could see herself reacting poorly.

Being physically unable to speak, she understood his apprehension and avoidance of it completely. But surely he could make other noises, right?

Misinterpreting her frown as anger, Ren rushed to apologize, I’m sorry! I never thought I’d ever sing in front of you!

Makoto’s frown deepened, this time somewhat insulted. Did he not trust her? Think she’d spurn him and his song? Feeling the enchantment wash over her was scary, but if Ren had tried to explain it beforehand, Makoto would of course hear him out. Perhaps he didn’t have the words to do so in the beginning, but by the time he brought her to the cove?

When she thought about it, the muffled melody hummed in her veins. Ren’s rich, velvety voice a whisper she strained to hear. Every time Makoto tried to recall the exact details of the aria, the siren’s song slipped through her fingers like mist.

Perhaps Ren had no control over his effect on humans like he seemed to have on ocean waves, but he did his best to shield her from the brunt of it. However, beneath her fear at that moment, Makoto wanted to hear him.

“Will you sing for me?”

Ren clapped both hands over his mouth and violently shook his head.

“I’m giving you my explicit permission. I trust you. I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.”

He shook his head no again, hunching his shoulders. Ren was sinking but the terror on his face stayed Makoto’s hand. There was more he needed to share.

My voice is bad for you. Any sound, bad, Ren signed with a slight shake. Humans who hear our songs become… different. Changed. Not themselves.

Ren scowled at his inability to convey the exact meaning he wanted. The words needed were still undiscovered, but Makoto could fathom a guess. The hint of addiction from the brief exposure murmured in her blood, though part may stem from her own attraction to him.

There were stories, less common, but she supposed anyone who fell under the spell of madness wouldn't be able to communicate what happened. The whisper of his song left minimal traces on her soul–a single wave upon sand. The imprint was not a cause for concern, but worth noting.

Sometimes it happens right away, sometimes at the end of a long song. They search for us, never calm unless listening to our voices. Ren looked away bitterly. It was a mistake to sing with you there.

“What's done is done and I’m still myself,” Makoto reassured, but Ren didn’t meet her eyes. While the whole ordeal and potential side effects scared her, Ren receding was worse. Makoto refused to lose him. She cupped his cheeks, gently coaxing him to look at her and smiled. “I understand now. Thank you for protecting me all this time.”

Makoto pressed their foreheads together and sighed when she felt him reciprocate. Ren was as dangerous as he was beautiful–a fact she was willfully blind to until that night. Yet he would gladly relinquish his voice completely if that were the cost to stay with her. He would probably blunt his claws and dull his teeth if she asked.

But Makoto didn’t want that. She wanted Ren in his entirety, danger and all. The difference between land and sea was great, but not insurmountable, and Makoto wouldn’t have it any other way.

Pulling back from the kiss, Ren had one more thing to say, still regretful of his actions. He slid her hands down to wrap around his bared neck to Makoto’s horror. Fingers pressed over soft gills.

I’d sooner tear my own throat out than lose you to my song.

A promise Ren meant every word of.

Makoto had visited the government buildings before to meet Sis, usually to drop off something she forgot. At most she entered the lobby and not a step further. Today, Sis led her to a waiting room next to the Governor’s private office. Unintelligible voices drifted through the large mahogany doors as they passed by.

“His current meeting is running overtime,” Sis said, taking a seat in an armchair and motioning for Makoto to do the same. “His schedule is tight, so we’ll enter once the doors open. Don’t worry, it’ll be quick.”

“What sort of meeting is he in?” Makoto asked in light conversation as she scanned the highly decorated room.

The pirates didn’t attack the capitol. No raiding parties came close and the cannon bombardment focused on the neighboring naval base. Granted, guards were stationed here and likely barricaded the buildings immediately. With their main target being out at sea, it was strategic to avoid this area completely. Kaneshiro planned it well.

She silently calculated her estimated value of the furnishings and applied it to the damage witnessed around town. Depending on how the hypothetical money was distributed, a lot of people could benefit.

“They’re planning to expand the navy and enforce stricter surveillance at the docks,” Sis replied. “A majority of our budget is being reallocated to that.”

“What about disaster aid or rebuilding efforts? People lost their homes and livelihoods!”

Makoto couldn’t believe this. Every day during that first week after the attack, she volunteered her time assisting anywhere she could, from administering first aid to sorting through rubble of destroyed houses. Some families lost everything including loved ones.

Sis shot her a warning glare to lower her voice. “Our economy is based on our value as a trading port. We have the advantage over rivals thanks to our ideal location and developed infrastructure. However, if businesses feel unsafe, they will take their trade lines elsewhere.”

Makoto’s fingers dug into her skirt as if that would suppress the roar of her heart. Innocent people were suffering and this was their priority? She begrudgingly recognized the logic behind it, but something growled within her defiant.

“It was not an easy decision to make, Makoto.” Sis gave her a knowing look. “The Governor has to balance both short and long-term investments. Out of all the options, this was deemed the most effective plan to secure our local commerce and foreign support.”

Although Makoto’s first instinct was to disagree, she didn’t have all the facts and oversight the Governor and Sis had access to. It made sense. Although judging by Sis’ expression, she didn’t seem particularly fond of this plan either.

Makoto would have to trust the adults in power. This was a major blow to their governmental authority after all, so it would be in their best interests to see the success of restoration projects and future growth endeavors.

On the bright side, she was happy Sis had the patience to explain it to her where in the past she would have been dismissed outright. Sis changed.

Noise from outside the room signaled it was their turn to enter. Makoto smoothed out her skirt, nerves spiking.

Sis put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the entrance. “He wants what’s best for us. You’ll see when you meet him.”

Passing through the double doors, Makoto’s first thought was that the office was quite spacious. Furnished with the expected table and chairs for meetings, what drew her attention was the large window overlooking the harbor and gracing the room with natural lighting. Almost silhouetted by the brightness was the desk of, and the man himself, Governor Shido.

He stood as they entered, greeting them warmly. “Welcome. It’s an honor to finally meet our very own local hero. I’ve heard of your exploits four separate times, some more dramatized than others.”

“No, please, the honor is mine,” Makoto bowed, lightly flushing at the praise. “I only wanted to save Sis.”

“And you saved three others from a potentially gruesome fate while taking out a pirate ship.” Shido sat back down. He seemed weary, stress lines showing on his face, and she could only imagine the toll of returning to office sick under such a crisis. “I apologize, I wanted to meet with you sooner, but I haven’t had the time. How have you fared since the attack?”

“My sister and I have been well. Our house was untouched by the raiding parties,” she recited. Makoto brainstormed with Ren potential questions the Governor might ask and prepared appropriate responses. “I’ve spent my free time volunteering with restoration.”

“A true model citizen,” Shido nodded in approval. “Your individual contributions may not appear to have a large impact at first, but know every minute stirs hope.”

She had planned to keep her head down during this encounter, not wanting to draw any attention to Ren’s involvement in the rescue, but her heart pressed for answers. “If I may sir, I heard there’s talk to increase our navy’s budget. How will that benefit us in the short-term?”

To Shido’s credit, his focus remained on Makoto alone and he addressed her as if she were another adult and not a simple schoolgirl. “We were complacent in our military growth and our stagnation shows if pirates can so brazenly enter our waters and escape with no countermeasures taken on our part. We were a rotting ship bound to sink sooner or later. Sharks like them target easy prey.”

Shido pinned her with an unwavering gaze. Calm and authoritative, this was a man who had to command respect from local and foreign powerhouses alike. He honed his inner fire, tempered it, and forged it into a weapon. Subtle and potent and so very different from Sis.

“I understand your concern, and it pains me to draw our limited resources away from programs that have a direct impact on the public, but I will not allow another attack, especially as all eyes fall on us in these trying times. Our blood is in the water. Who knows how many sharks might attempt a bite.”

A shiver ran down her spine, but he was right. There was no guarantee for their safety if another pirate decided to try their hand and Kaneshiro was still out there.

“I understand. Thank you for sparing me the time.” Makoto bowed.

“You’re as sharp as your sister,” Shido chuckled. “Now then, the reason I called you here was to reward your heroism. Unfortunately resources are lacking at the moment and I have nothing prepared. So tell me, is there anything you want?”

“This is for yourself,” Sis stressed, speaking for the first time since entering. Of course she correctly deduced what her little sister planned to do with a favor from the Governor.

Makoto didn’t want to assume she would be rewarded anything, but prepared for the possibility. If Option A was off the table, then–

“May I ask for a boat of my own? I would like a small one similar to what I used to rescue everyone with, if possible, please.”

“You want a simple rowboat?” Shido asked incredulously.

Surprise flashed across Sis’ face as well before she reigned it in.

“Yes, please,” Makoto affirmed. It was a selfish desire and avenue to help others rolled into one.

“I can get you a bigger model with a sail, there’s no need to be so humble.”

She shot the offer down immediately. “No, thank you. I don’t know how to operate a sailboat.” Plus it made her easier to spot.

“If that is what you wish, then I’ll make arrangements,” Shido conceded.

Perhaps she was only imagining it, but Makoto was used to reading facial expressions to infer words unsaid, and to her, the Governor appeared almost troubled. Annoyed? That couldn’t be right.

“But if there’s anything else,” he tried again and this time even Sis raised an eyebrow.

Makoto allowed surprise to shine but kept her suspicion carefully concealed. So there was more at play here. He wanted her to take a bigger reward.

“Well,” she started, mulling it over. Makoto already had Option C to fall on, but the question now was why? What would a politician gain from this?

Did one of the women saved hold sway over him? Unlikely. Shido wanted to give her a sailboat. Something visible. Something that might draw attention to the ‘local hero’. Ah. Option C was safe.

“In that case, there is another thing.”

Makoto rolled the wooden cart down the pier, listening intently to the creaking of wood. She wanted the sound to be associated with only good memories, and here, under the dark, early morning sky, Makoto could pretend she was bringing a siren home.

Ren eagerly met her halfway, purposely sloshing water for her to find him. She offloaded everything into the boat and wheeled the cart back to the promenade where it would be less conspicuous. They were long overdue to spend a whole day together and Makoto was prepared to make the most of it.

The navy increased their patrols in the area and Ren immediately went about learning their schedules. They lacked the manpower and ships for perfect coverage, but it was a solid deterrent against potential threats. However against a small, unassuming rowboat towed by a siren? Ren’s smirk said it all.

He assured their hideout remained out of sight. The patrolling ships were too far out to spot them–a fact Ren confirmed with a spyglass scavenged from a wreck. Thus they were free to do as they pleased, and with the addition of their very own boat, the possibilities were endless.

They landed faster than Makoto anticipated, though slower if Ren only had to ferry her. He was both happy and disappointed with the introduction of the boat. On one hand they could spend more time at the cove, on the other he wouldn’t get to carry her anymore. She blushed and promised they could do it again next summer.

Pulling the little skiff ashore, Makoto set to work preparing their first activity for the day. After passing Ren a towel, she spread an old sheet upon the sand and brought out a thick blanket. Satisfied with her arrangement, she settled Ren on the linen, wrapped the covers around them, and snuggled into his side. Perfect. Together, they watched the sun rise.

Growing up fishing with her father and continuing the hobby on her own, Makoto held a healthy respect for the professionals who had to fight waves along with their catch. She recognized how difficult and dangerous the labor was out in the open ocean, knew it wouldn’t be easy even with Ren’s help, but this was beyond her expectations.

“Ren, there’s another one! Starboard!”

He dropped the netting and Makoto felt the boat sway as he dove back into the ocean. On her own, she struggled pulling aboard the heavy net but at least she wasn’t losing ground either. Gritting her teeth, Makoto threw all her weight into it. They would come up with a better plan for next time.

Another fin surfaced too close for comfort. The struggling fish Ren lured into her net with song drew the attention of sharks. The longer they took to pull it onboard, the more arrived. Makoto was this close to abandoning their catch, but Ren promised they’d be fine as he drove the sharks away.

A sudden force lurched the boat and Makoto nearly toppled over. Maybe she should let it go after all.

“No marlin.”

Ren pouted.

“You know I can’t take it with me!”

“Welcome home.”

“Sis?” Makoto paused in removing her boots. Sis rarely returned home before her and she never greeted Makoto on the occasions that she did.

“I just started dinner,” Sis said when Makoto arrived to stand dumbfounded at the kitchen entrance.

When was the last time Sis cooked dinner? Three years ago?

She turned around and noticed Makoto holding Ren's daily gift of fish. “Ah, perfect timing.” Sis took them from her slack grip. “You get cleaned up, it'll be a while.”

“O-Okay,” Makoto stammered, still processing the anomaly as Sis continued like nothing was amiss.

Opting to keep her questions to herself, Makoto shuffled out as she was told. Right before turning the corner, she swore she saw an amused smile playing on Sis’ face.

Makoto sighed, rolling out her sore shoulder. Another cartload of fish was distributed. Less people were in desperate need of help these days, but she worried how they would fare during winter. At least no one was on the street anymore.

She started the trek home, waving at those who called out greetings as she passed, amazed to be recognized and received positively. She was more than the teacher’s pet or girl who wore boy’s clothes now.

This would have to be the last large catch for a while, perhaps ever. People were starting to question how she always managed to bring in a bounty. But, she thought, as a pair of children ran up to her presenting a freshly baked loaf of bread on behalf of their watching mother, it was well worth the effort.

The soft crunch of boots in sand was drowned out by giggles as Makoto carried an extra wiggly Ren up to their hideout.

“What are you so excited for?” she asked, but Ren shook his head, a glint of devilry in his eye. A surprise was it?

Makoto sighed good-naturedly as she set him on a stool. She was only grabbing a towel and dropping off her clothes so they could go swimming–probably their last chance until spring–but the clingy siren insisted on coming too. The troublemaker was up to something.

Turning to where she stored her things, Makoto halted, gasping at the sight. A new shelf stood innocently against the wall holding her belongings. The wood was clearly scavenged from shipwrecks, but it was cleaned and sanded smooth. Beautiful shells were embedded in holes and divots, perfectly sealing the spaces. In any other blemish, carvings of fishes swam in the grain, playing among squiggles resembling waves.

She gently traced a fish. How long did Ren spend working on this thoughtful gift in secret? Then how much effort did it take to haul it all the way into their hideout when he struggled to climb this far unburdened?

This was more than a simple shelf–it was the culmination of Ren's observations of the surface world combined with self-taught carpentry skills webbed hands would not naturally learn. This was an entire love song composed specifically for her in a language foreign to him. Makoto turned to find Ren a mixture of adoration and nerves as he awaited her verdict.

They finally reached the water nearly an hour later, and even then, they did not separate.

Makoto unfastened her coat as she made her way down Ren’s pier, biting back a smile. Anticipation thrummed in her veins. Perhaps it was foolish, most definitely improper, but Makoto was young and hopelessly in love.

Propriety no longer concerned her when it involved Ren. Any lingering traces were banished when they started hands-on lessons in human anatomy. Besides, he was the perfect gentleman, always considerate and respectful of boundaries. If she said stop, he obeyed without question.

Makoto waited until she was seated to call for him, though he must have heard her approaching footfalls. Leaning over the edge, she wanted to see every detail of his expression when he noticed her surprise.

Happy to see her as always, Ren emerged with a bright smile. But before he could reach her for his greeting kiss, Ren sank back down, nearly bobbing under the water as his fins and tail stopped working. His eyes honed in on the new pendant adorning his love.

A small, mottled red and black scallop shell was inlaid in a silver casting so no damage would befall it from the bail. Attached to a sturdy, black cord, Ren’s first courting gift was proudly displayed around Makoto’s neck. To her society, a bold statement indicating the nature of their relationship. To Makoto and Ren, a wordless promise.

He rose, hands planted on either side of her, drawing himself up to Makoto’s height. Her legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging Ren closer. Cupping his cheeks, her own flushed at his awestruck expression.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips and closed the distance.

Sis was changing. Ever since the rescue her attitude shifted, becoming far more agreeable. She didn’t fully shed the skin of the leviathan, it lurked in the depths of her heart even now, but she looked at Makoto in a new light–treated her as an adult. Often during dinner, she asked questions about rebuilding efforts or engaged in discussions regarding policies and theoretical program development.

The only topic that gave Sis trouble was the literate fisherman. Makoto tested the waters, off-handedly mentioning Ren and his assistance. Sis would make a neutral comment and proceed to change the subject. She seemed to be warming up to the idea of him at least, never outright dismissing Ren and accepting of his daily catches. However once Sis spotted the necklace, her contentious side reemerged.

“How about we have dinner tomorrow with that fisherman of yours?” Sis asked as soon as they sat down at the table, a warning edge to her voice. As if she were not the one who avoided her own suggestion to meet a month ago.

Makoto felt the predatory gaze of the circling leviathan but remained calm and steadfast. The scallop shell rested in plain view on her chest. A piece of him that would accompany her everywhere from now on.

“Tomorrow,” Makoto easily agreed.

She was serious about her relationship with Ren and it was time to introduce Sis. Regardless of the differences between land and sea, they would overcome it together, and that included meeting the leviathan.

Disapproval rolled off Sis like stormy waves, her expression thunderous, but for the most part held her tongue as they walked.

When she arrived home, Makoto had just finished packing their dinner in a picnic basket. As expected, Sis rejected the idea of eating at the pier and criticized Ren’s inability to attend a formal meeting at their home. A grave insult to the host and signifying he wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Please, Sis, give him a chance. If it weren’t for Ren, both of us would have been taken by pirates,” Makoto begged, frustration bleeding into her voice. Surprising Sis to dinner at the pier was a calculated risk, but it was too late to retreat. “I’m not asking you to approve, but please, promise to listen until the end.”

Successfully persuading Sis to go was merely the first hurdle cleared–the iceberg stretched far into the depths. Makoto’s one goal for the evening was to convince Sis not to sound the alarm and send hunting parties after Ren. She can criticize and insult all she liked so long as he remained safe.

Again as anticipated, Sis’ fury continued to deepen at the sight of the empty pier. The leviathan writhed in anger, spitting poison that used to sink Makoto’s spirit, but she was not the fearful little girl who obeyed without question anymore.

Late and unreliable or perhaps a craven. A low-class laborer has little future prospects and will drag you down. You should know better than to meet a man alone.

Coaxing Sis to take a seat was another argument and a half, but Makoto needed her to be sitting when Ren came out. Every second counted to prevent Sis from running at the sight of him. Or attacking. Another very real possibility.

Makoto placed the basket to the far side out of Sis’ reach and touched her hand. “Please, hear us out.”

“He’s not even here. There’s nothing more to say,” Sis retorted, drawing away from Makoto to cross her arms.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Hear me out then. Promise?”

Sis grumbled, but eventually agreed, “Very well. But I don’t approve.”

“That’s fine.” Makoto placed a hand on her shoulder, ready to grip on tightly. “Ren? You can come out now.”

The leviathan screeched. Not only was Makoto flung away from the edge, a shoe clobbered Ren squarely in the face.

“Move! Makoto, run!” Sis hauled her with surprising strength to her feet, and pulled her along.

“No, Sis! Wait!” She tried digging her heels in, but Sis was unstoppable. Makoto looked over her shoulder at Ren who partially pulled himself up, staring after her in alarm and holding onto the shoe. “Ren, blockade!”

He dropped down. Darting ahead underwater, he leaped onto the center of the pier ahead of them, forcing Sis to ground to a halt.

“Cover your ears,” she barked, releasing Makoto and pulling off her other shoe. “The second it’s distracted, run and don’t look back.”

True fear flashed across Ren's face and a claw reached for a phantom collar. The shadow of his abusers manifested in Sis’ raised hand. Feeling scarred skin instead of metal, his eyes hardened. Fins flared in challenge, but Ren held back from further aggressive displays to Makoto’s immense relief.

“Don’t hurt him!” she inserted herself between the two, hands held up placatingly. “Please, Sis. He’s–”

“Get away from that monster! It's dangerous!”

“He,” Makoto stressed, “is not a monster. This is Ren.” She knelt down at his side and his fins folded instantly, but his posture didn’t relax. Intertwining their fingers, Makoto held up their joined hands. “You promised you’d listen.”

Slowly, Sis lowered her improvised weapon, though remained on guard. “Explain.”

So she did, weaving the fantastical fairytale of the girl who saved a siren and the siren who returned the favor. Stories that unfolded at this very pier. No more lies. No more half-truths.

Sis listened, silent through it all. Her cold glare was fixated on Ren and he met her unspoken threat head-on, refusing to back down. His tail curled around Makoto and Sis twitched, the grip on her shoe tightening. Both were prepared for the other to strike and it broke Makoto’s heart to see the two people she loved so dearly up in arms.

“Please, don’t report Ren. He’s done so much for all of us,” Makoto begged once her account finished. Sis’ gaze finally broke from Ren to hold Makoto’s. “Please.”

“Fine. Now my debt is settled,” she concluded after a lengthy internal debate. “Makoto, we’re going home. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow.” The finality in her voice brook no room for argument.

“Okay,” Makoto deflated. She secured Ren’s safety and that’s all that mattered.

Motioning for Ren to move, he cast a final glance up to Sis, his expression for once unreadable, then slipped back into the water. Promising nothing would happen, Sis allowed Makoto to retrieve their dinner.

As she sorted out Ren’s portion, he rested against the pier with her. The turn of events didn’t surprise either of them, but it was disheartening all the same. Hunching over him, Makoto tried to block Sis’ view of her taking his hand as they bid each other goodbye.

Ren pressed his lips to her knuckles.

I love you.

Smiling softly, Makoto placed his hand on her cheek, taking her time to savor his touch before turning to kiss his palm.

I love you, too.

The leviathan prowled angrily in the shallows, ready to snap a hint of movement. Makoto sat across the table nursing a cup of tea long gone cold. The sisters were at a stalemate, neither ceding ground. This was more than an interrogation.

“You’re graduating soon,” Sis broke the tense silence with a change in subject. Her voice was surprisingly calm after their near shouting match. “Have you considered what you’ll do afterward?”

“I want to help people who have been wronged and are unable to help themselves,” Makoto answered without hesitation.

Sirens trapped in a tank. Women locked in a dark brig. Civilians hungry and homeless and hopeless. Kaneshiro was still out there.

“I haven’t decided on the avenue yet, but I know this is the path I want.”

Sis scrutinized her closely, searching for any vulnerability to exploit. “Before you can help others, you need to prioritize yourself. Men will hold your status as a young woman over your head as justification to exclude you. The expectations of society are rigged against us.”

“You’re in the law department, isn’t there anything we can do to fix the system?” Makoto questioned. Such a task would be a never-ending uphill battle, but the potential benefits could reverberate throughout society and for generations to come. “Of course, I don’t mean an entire rewrite, but one minor change at a time like passing anti-discriminatory policies.”

Working in a governmental branch was likely the course Sis wanted Makoto to take and while it did provide the tools to achieve her goals, after meeting the Governor, Makoto wasn’t certain if it was the right card to play. Whatever she chose, she knew the freedoms Ren spoiled her with wouldn’t follow her on land.

Sis frowned, taking her time to sort through her words before answering, probably to remove any insults to Makoto’s wishful thinking. “Those in power don’t want change. My presence in the office is already causing a stir and potentially paving the way for others. Isn’t that enough?”

Until society treated Makoto with the same level of respect Ren gave her back in their early days of becoming friends, then no, it would never be enough.

Following a bout of curiosity, Makoto wandered the main docks, her gaze trailing over repairs and people at work. A trading vessel recently docked and goods were busy being offloaded.

Sis was right about the mercantile businesses. They trickled back under the protection of the navy and while not as abundant as they used to be, ships were arriving and departing daily. With them flowed resources, hope, and a sense of normalcy.

Pulling her jacket tighter as a cold winter wind blew across the sea, Makoto continued her walk. Taking in the sights, she imagined what life would be like aboard a ship–to live out at sea for potentially months at a time. Thinking back to her father’s stories, he seemed to enjoy it.

Eyes catching on the figurehead of another merchant vessel, she slowed to a stop. A bare woman's torso faced the open ocean while her fish tail folded over inside her nook at the bow. A wooden rendition of a siren believed to calm the stormy seas for the ship she watched over. Makoto supposed Ren did the same for her, but he was real. Sailors would hate to meet their ship's figurehead in the flesh. People liked the idea of sirens but not the siren itself.

Makoto scanned the main docks with new eyes, noticing there were no other women around. It never sunk in before just how different her world was compared to the one most people inhabited.

There was little Sis could do to stop Makoto from visiting Ren after promising to keep him secret. After their parley, Sis never spoke about him again, although she made it abundantly clear she didn’t approve of their relationship. Instead she heavily pushed Makoto to think about her future and probably hoped she would see the futility of land meeting sea in the long term, especially as temperatures dropped.

However, Sis failed to recognize the couple’s determination to keep their love afloat. While the region was known for mild winters, a coastal chill swept across town, chasing people into their homes for warmth. Makoto didn’t dare go into the ocean, and despite living in the frigid waters, Ren couldn’t withstand the cold wind on shore. Neither were able to meet at the pier or hideout for extended periods of time.

To them, the winter wind posed as a worthwhile challenge to be overcome, not a deterrent. Makoto purchased more blankets and a coat for Ren, meanwhile he scavenged a large piece of hull that was split along the keel. Together they hauled it onto their beach as the base for a new sheltered den, expanding their hideout. A firepit was dug out in front, a large pile of driftwood was collected, and the inside was lined with blankets, making the perfect ‘cuddle cave,’ as Ren put it.

Bundled under the covers, they could bask in the warmth for hours, often with Makoto reading books aloud or bringing some other activity to enjoy. She taught basic domestic skills that Ren eagerly took to learning. Skills no man in her society would willingly engage in unless necessary. After proving himself to be quite the culinary prodigy, they finally enjoyed oxtail soup entirely prepped and cooked at their hideout. It was the greatest meal Makoto ever had the pleasure to enjoy.

Always when she least expected it, Ren would slip his cold hands under her shirt just to hear her squeal. Silent snickers shook his body as she scolded him, but Makoto never pushed him away. In the summer heat, skin to skin contact was wonderful thanks to his naturally cooler body temperature. Now, she only allowed it after he had confessed he loved to feel her warmth regardless of the season, unintentionally charming her.

Ren had Makoto wrapped around his little finger, but that was okay, she knew he was wrapped around hers as well.

Far out at sea, two naval vessels converged chasing what looked to be a pirate ship. Makoto spotted them in the distance and knocked on the bottom of her boat to draw Ren’s attention. They watched the ships trade cannon fire and eventually grapple, with the navy emerging victorious.

Ren appeared disinterested as all three ships sailed to port leaving nothing for him to loot, but for Makoto, a spark ignited. The tides were turning and a new course was charted into waters not entirely unknown to her. A path to protect others and catch the villains who prey upon the weak.

Ren resumed towing her to their hideout, unaware of this growing blaze while Makoto stared at the horizon lost in thought. The justice she aimed for. The justice her father died for.

Kaneshiro was still out there.

Chapter Text

“I’m thinking about joining the navy,” she said to Sis.

After a pregnant pause, Sis set down her pen and gave Makoto her full attention. “Is this because of Dad?”

Makoto shook her head. “While I’m honored to continue his legacy, I’m more interested in the organization itself. I want to stop the lawless and rescue victims. There are too many instances that are never brought to light.”

Sis crossed her arms, a faraway look in her eyes.

“I’m thinking about joining the navy,” she said to Ren.

He blinked. That sounds difficult.

“It will be. My academic background can only get me so far and I have no practical sailing experience. But I believe with everything I learned from you, Sis, and my father, I can achieve my goals.”

Ren played with his bangs, pensive.

“Will you end things with the siren?” Sis asked, poker-faced.

Will we still be able to meet? Ren asked, eyes glued to the scallop shell pendant.

In the pursuit of her dreams for justice, Makoto would acquire the trait that she hated about her father–being largely absent from the lives of her loved ones. A pang shot through her heart.

But Kaneshiro was still out there.

“I’m not giving up on us,” Makoto affirmed. “I’ll find a way to make it work.”

Winter often felt longer compared to the other seasons, but time seemed to fly by. Perhaps it was the shorter days meaning less time spent with Ren at the cove, or maybe it was the extensive studying with candles burning out in a blink. Whatever the case, spring was fast approaching.

Sometimes, Ren would draw her closer, squeezing Makoto tightly out of the blue. Not inherently out of character as he loved cuddling, but the silent siren seemed quieter in recent days. Almost solemn. Accepting the looming inevitable and treasuring the present.

Despite all her reassurances that their relationship would continue, Makoto knew her future career, navy or not, would hurt him the most. Unlike her and Sis, Ren had no one else to talk to. No one to keep him company. He was isolated; waiting in his massive fish tank for someone to come up to the glass for a visit.

For as far as Ren explored, he never found another siren to befriend. Besides Sis, Makoto had no one else to introduce to him, and after how well that meeting went, she wouldn’t want to. In this vast, great ocean, Ren was as secluded as his pier.

Her heart wept for him, remembering his pain when she stopped visiting after the pirate attack. This time Makoto pulled Ren close, cradling his head over her heart and placing a kiss in his fluffy hair. Until she had a better grasp of the training course and day-to-day expectations, they couldn’t plan a solution.

Freshly graduated, Makoto marched to the naval base, fire burning in every step. She knew what she wanted. Her soul howled for justice and this was her chosen path to answer that call. Of course Makoto researched her options, deliberated with Sis for hours upon end, but her heart was set.

Maybe she was chasing after the shadow of her father. Maybe the romanticized fantasy of sailing tinted her lenses. Makoto couldn’t completely deny either, the allure of the ocean beckoned to her. It always had and her time with Ren only strengthened its charm.

Besides, Kaneshiro was still out there.

Something within her growled at the thought. A low and dangerous hum rumbled in righteous fury. Neither siren nor leviathan but a beast of her own that demanded the downfall of a monster. Joining the navy and setting sail after Kaneshiro was the only way to calm it.

Thus Makoto continued on her warpath up to the front desk and faced the skeptical recruiter with determination blazing fiery blue in her veins. The officer laughed at her, stating this was no place for a woman and offered a position as a maid. Anticipating this, with a calmness that Makoto in no way felt, she presented Option C–a recommendation letter written by Governor Shido himself.

All navy recruits were expected to live in the barracks on base for the first two years of their tenure, which wasn’t so bad when taking into account the weeks to months spent on a ship out at sea. After training drills, chores, and other assigned duties were completed, service members were given free time and allowed to venture into town as long as they returned by curfew.

Being the greenest, Makoto and her ‘class’ of new recruits were given the majority of menial labor upkeeping the base, as well as either first or second dog watch shifts. After completing their daily drills and assignments, they were left exhausted with little time to go galivanting into town. These strict exercises were to facilitate their transition into the orderly scheduled lifestyle onboard a ship, and despite her weariness at the end of each day, Makoto thrived in the program.

Though she could do without the leering and unsubtle jabs thrown in her direction. If she closed her eyes, Makoto could picture her old school’s hallways filled with mean-spirited gossip, but these were men many years her senior or boys her age. Incredibly unprofessional in her opinion.

Academically, Makoto surpassed the majority of sailors. Her literacy skills were above the average officer too. A quick learner and physically fit, she could keep up with everyone else in her company just fine, but all of that was overshadowed by being a woman.

They all sneered at her in uniform–new recruits and experienced sailors alike. Channeling Sis’ teachings, Makoto stood tall, bold and fearless. Mentally prepared for the misogyny, she bared an unflappable front in the face of their discrimination. Skewering unwanted attention with a piercing glare as sharp as a shark’s grin, most learned to leave her alone.

The veterans in charge of teaching greenhands seaman skills scoffed at her presence. In their eyes, a dainty woman could never handle life on the rough seas. Remembering her father’s stories and lessons, Makoto excelled in their classes, recognizing concepts and outperforming her peers. Although she lacked the raw physical strength of a man, her dexterity evened the playing field.

Completely by accident, Makoto eventually netted some respect from those around her. A fellow greenhand went overboard during rigging drills. Before the life preserver could be retrieved, without missing a beat, Makoto dove in after him. Taking one of his hands, she kept the man at arm’s length and delivered calm instructions on how to stay afloat as she towed him to the docks. She was chewed out by the supervising officer for disobeying rescue protocol, but no one in her company messed with her after that.

All in all, Makoto thought she was doing well and off to a promising start. However, as she prepared for bed each evening, her walls came crumbling down. Given a small bedroom of her own segregated from the men, Makoto sat in quiet contemplation, fingers tracing the scallop shell she wasn’t allowed to wear on duty.

Every night, she pressed a gentle kiss to the beautiful red and black, promising to make their time spent separated worth the sacrifice.

“I miss you.”

On her allotted one day off a week, Makoto was always out the door the second her leave allowed. Becoming a ritual, breakfast was shared at home with Sis; the siblings catching up and enjoying a peaceful morning together. A year ago, this scenario was but a wishful dream. A year ago, Makoto was a different person altogether.

After packing her basket of supplies, she headed down to Ren’s pier to spend the rest of her free day with her beloved. Her heart yearned for his easy affection and both were absolutely starved for the other’s touch. The moment Makoto arrived, Ren leaped out to meet her, sometimes only a few steps onto the pier.

He reached up as Makoto knelt down, lips seeking out the other. Unlike before, their chaste greetings were always quick to deepen if she didn't stop him soon enough. Those kisses were messy and raw, open and honest. They poured all their longing and love through touch that no amount of words could ever encapsulate. Yet Makoto breathed them all the same, blessing Ren with the melody of her voice.

Untangling from their enthusiastic greetings always proved a challenge, neither wanting to part, but as content as Makoto was letting Ren trail kisses down her neck, she preferred the absolute privacy of their hideout. He was in agreement and it took little convincing to spur Ren into moving.

After a whole week of relentless work, close to burning herself into the ground, Ren’s indulgent love provided her the space to simply be. With him she was safe. In his arms she was home.

If going from near daily meetings to weekly sent both of them into withdrawals, Makoto worried how Ren would fare as the eve of her first voyage arrived. He often went on expeditions of his own to pass days at a time, but loneliness tinted the retelling of his adventures.

How Makoto wanted to take him with her. To share in the experience together as they did that innocent summer. But the human world didn't understand. They saw the siren, not the beautiful and kind boy underneath.

“It's a short, routine patrol,” Makoto explained. “If all goes as expected, it'll only take two weeks.”

She felt him sigh against her shoulder and nuzzle into her neck, pressing a light kiss to her pulse. Laying in their den, Ren held her from behind. His tail wrapped around her legs securely, but loose enough that Makoto could pull away if she wanted to. She never did.

Raising his hands in front of her, he signed, I’ll wait however long it takes.

Anxiety buzzed in her brain accompanying the ache in her heart. Makoto hated leaving him. Hated throwing herself into work in hopes of speeding up time. Hated that she gained the aspect that hurt her family the most as a child.

Instead of confessing any of those thoughts, she voiced her impossible dream, “I wish I could take you with me. You could swim alongside the ship until you got tired and I’d bring you aboard. Then we could do chores together–” she interrupted herself to chuckle at the absurdity– “not the most fun I know.”

It is. Any activity with you is fun.

Heat crept to her cheeks at his unintentional sweet talk. Ren wasn’t being flirty, he honestly meant every word.

What else would we do? he prompted.

“Well, the majority of the day would be chores and drills. Practicing preparing the guns or weapon use, those sort of exercises."

I want a knife!

She laughed lightly. “Kitchen knives are not meant for anything other than cooking. You can have a dagger.” Makoto paused, then tilted her head to eye Ren with suspicion. “You haven’t been using my knives on non-food items, have you?”

Ren averted his gaze.

“You didn’t.”

I didn’t.

A long sigh escaped her as Ren silently laughed, his stuttered exhale blowing against her neck.

Think the navy will be as understanding as your sister? he joked.

They’d kill you on sight, she didn’t say, feeling her chest tighten at the horrible certainty.

Ren pressed his forehead to her hair in a shallow bow at her continued silence. Sorry.

“No, you said nothing wrong, love.” Makoto was torn between turning to hold him and staying this way to let him speak. She settled on combing her fingers through his thick locks. “I’m sorry for always leaving you.”

It’s okay. It wasn’t okay. You always come back.

Nerves and excitement danced a merry jig in her stomach, round and round, exchanging partners. Today was the day.

Sis came to see her off at the main docks. Pulling Makoto into a tight hug, she said, “Safe travels. I wish you smooth sailing.”

“Thanks, Sis. I promise I’ll be fine.”

A whistle sounded, calling for all hands to cast off. Makoto slung her bag over her shoulder and took a deep breath. This was what she had been training for.

“Go on,” Sis encouraged. “Can’t miss your first voyage.”

“I know. Goodbye, Sis.” Giving a final hug, Makoto started for the gangway, spun around, and called back, “Remember to visit him! You promised!”

“I will. Makoto, watch where you’re going.”

And just like that, Makoto set sail for the first time in her life, actually living the stories she grew up listening to. As the ship pulled out of the harbor, she squinted toward Ren’s pier. It was difficult to make out the details this far, but she swore she saw him sitting at the end.

Reaching for the scallop shell hidden under her uniform, Makoto waved goodbye to her love.

Watching her baby sister climb the gangway, Sae was hit with a sudden and inexplicable urge to cry. The emotion swelled against a dam that had been experiencing a several year long dry-spell and it nearly cracked from the force. She swallowed it down. Sae never cried. Not in public anyway.

Wasn’t it just yesterday Makoto was fingerpainting with her gruel the moment Sae’s back turned? No, yesterday, Sae walked her to school for the first time. Her hand-me-downs never fit just right, always a tad too large, and Sae had to alter them after she tripped.

That wasn’t right either. Yesterday, she brought Makoto into the kitchen for her first lesson with knives. Under careful supervision, she used a dull butter knife to chop fruit. Then the next yesterday, Sae helped her understand her math homework. The yesterday after that, Makoto woke her up in the middle of the night because of a scary dream and wanted to share a bed.

Sae stood at the docks, watching the ship carry her baby sister away until it was out of sight and wondered where did the time go.

The old pier squeaked beneath her shoes, drawing hints of memories that she buried along with the man who raised her. Her father left her–left them–and died far away. At one point Sae mourned him, but that grief quickly morphed into resentment and stained her world with the color of envy.

Even when he was alive, Sae begrudged the inequity. It wasn’t fair that the responsibility of raising a child fell upon a child while the parent sailed away. It wasn’t fair he coddled Makoto and expected her to keep up on housework. It wasn’t fair he left them to fend for themselves in a society where women were expected to be good housewives and nothing more.

Anger flared and Sae doused it in the calm lapping of waves. She needed to keep a cool head entering a sea monster’s lair. How on earth did Makoto convince her to babysit him?

Arriving at the end, she inspected the gloomy water beneath the pier. No siren. Sae peered between the plank gaps and around the posts. No siren.

Mustering her courage, she finally called out, “Ren?”

No siren.

Was he even here? Feeling foolish, she debated leaving. All of this was a grand waste of time and at least she tried–

From the corner of her eye she spotted movement. Dishevelled black hair–somehow stuck up in places despite being wet–rose at the far corner. Stormy eyes followed, peeking above the planks much like a wary stray cat. He looked her up and down then his gaze swept across the pier and to the promenade.

“It’s just me.” His attention returned to Sae. “Makoto asked that I visit on the day she normally has off.”

Something flashed in his eyes at the mention of her baby sister’s name and Ren pulled his upper torso onto the pier. They stared at each other a moment longer, unsure what to make of this meeting without their connecting factor.

Eventually he waved his hands in strange motions–the language Makoto created with him or so it was explained. Was an odd dance really enough to convey sentences?

“I don’t know that language of yours,” Sae stated once he finished. “Makoto said you’re easy to understand without words, but I’ll be the judge of that.”

She really didn’t want to be alone with a siren–what was Makoto thinking, meeting with a dangerous creature every day? She was afraid of sea monster stories for goodness’ sake–but Sae was curious about this… fisherman.

Taking a seat, she faced the threat that bewitched her baby sister.

“You’ll be answering my yes or no questions this time. I want to know your account of everything.”

This was an interrogation.

Those who knew nothing of seafaring probably thought it a dull and monotonous life, but that was not the case at all for the navy at least. The crew was simply too busy to be bored.

Following a strict schedule, Makoto’s days were planned to the half hour. While the labor was tedious, it wasn’t demanding. The food was fine. Honestly, it was a good life with fair treatment and fair wages, though some crewmates still actively bothered her for being a woman.

But as she cast her gaze to the beautiful blue below, in a trick of the light, Makoto swore she saw a flash of black-red scales. Ren wasn’t here. She traced the outline of the scallop shell through the fabric of her uniform, whispered a quiet ‘I miss you’ to the sea, and hoped the waves would carry her love back home to him.

Two weeks passed by without incident and Makoto walked down the gangway as dusk settled. Dismissed for a three day break, she trekked home exhausted yet satisfied. As her house came into view, Makoto paused in the middle of the street and allowed herself to just feel for a moment. Tired excitement from her trip, relief to be home, and mild anxiety from being away for so long all swirled together in the surf rolling over her soul.

Sending a short prayer to her father, Makoto thought she understood him a little better now. With mild trepidation, she creaked open the door and called out, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back.” Sis came over to greet her and something steadied in Makoto’s heart like an anchor settling on the seafloor. “Did you already eat? I can warm up dinner for you.”

A tired smile graced her features. “Yes, please.”

As Sis took care of that, Makoto padded to her room to change. It had been a while since she last stepped into her personal treasure-filled grotto. Everything was exactly as she left it, as if time itself came to a standstill, preserving Ren’s presents decorating every nook and cranny from last summer. She’d visit him first thing tomorrow.

At the dinner table, Sis sat with her asking about the experience. Maybe the novelty would wear off in due time, but Makoto loved it. There was something thrilling about riding the waves that resonated with her soul. A freedom she first tasted when Ren carried her to the cove.

As she finished her meal, Makoto noticed Sis’ eyes drop to the scallop shell pendant.

“So,” she started and Makoto involuntarily held her breath. “I’m ‘Big Makoto Human,’ hmm?”

The air escaped in a whoosh of a surprised laugh. “It was the easiest way to explain it!”

“You named a siren, ‘Ren.’”

“I wanted a simple name that he could pick up quickly,” she defended. Sis muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Rocky,’ the pet rock she had when she was six, so Makoto pressed, “It sounds like you two got along?”

“More or less. He wasn’t as easy to understand as you claimed,” Sis hummed, not elaborating further. She’d ask Ren for details later. “But there was one motion I couldn’t decipher that seemed important.”

“Oh? Do you remember what it was?”

“I think it was something like this.” Both index fingers point together twist.

Makoto shot out of her seat.

“What was the context?” She made a beeline to place her dishes in the sink and rushed for her supplies–coat, lantern, first-aid kit.

Concerned by Makoto’s response, unease tinged Sis’ words, “I asked how he was doing. His expression remained neutral throughout our conversation until that moment. He appeared… dejected.”

Makoto stopped lacing her boots briefly, processing the possibilities, then resumed just as hastily. The compulsion to get to Ren overrode logical reasoning.

“Makoto, what does it mean?”

Already stepping out the door, she answered, “It means ‘pain.’”

She flew to Ren’s pier, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted through the quiet streets. He needed her. More than Makoto imagined possible.

A shadow at the end of the pier sat up in alarm to the sound of boots pounding on planks. Before he had the chance to dive into the dark, Makoto called for him, voice hoarse and out of breath.

Waiting for his beloved to return to him, Ren kept vigil watching ships sail into the harbor. He didn't know which one was hers, but he wouldn't dare miss her homecoming.

Makoto dropped to her knees and pulled Ren onto her lap, noting he was completely dry.

“Ren, my love,” she cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing under his red and swollen eyes. Was his continued pain an acceptable price to pay in pursuit of her goals? “I’m here now. I’m home.”

But Kaneshiro was still out there.

Breathing in the sweet, salty air, she gradually stirred awake. Instinctively searching for Ren, Makoto groped the blankets and jolted in panic when she came up empty-handed. Alone in their den, awareness trickled in after the initial flood of anxiety.

This was the first time they slept overnight at the hideout. They napped together regularly, stayed out late to stargaze, but they always returned home at the end. Based on the brightness outside, Makoto didn't sleep in very late and without Ren, there was no point laying around longer.

In the middle of the night, she woke up to him struggling to escape from the tangle of blankets. Ren dried out past his limit and Makoto scrambled, rushing him to the ocean. Floating face down like a dead fish, he waved her back to bed and bid her goodnight. Another challenge to take into consideration.

Ren didn't come when called, probably out hunting for their breakfast. Taking a seat at the water's edge, waves washed up to her toes, covering them in sand. The serene morning helped to soothe her ongoing guilt, but she knew it would continue to eat at her until resolved.

Fingers smoothing over her scallop shell, Makoto sighed. Was she being selfish? Trying to eat her cake and then still have it too?

Sailing on the open sea captivated her. Dreaming of delivering Kaneshiro to justice and helping the innocent ignited her soul. But her heart tore in two leaving Ren behind. He didn’t deserve the treatment she received as a child.

It wasn’t sustainable to continue on like this, but in addition to genuinely enjoying her job, quitting now would leave a bad taste in her mouth. Still so fresh on her journey, Makoto had something to prove to the world that loudly proclaimed she couldn’t. Like Sis, she wanted to blaze a trail for others; throw open the doors that slammed in her face. While she ignored the scornful words spoken behind her back, resigning felt like she’d be proving them right regardless of her reasoning.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ren’s head popping up in the water channel between rocks. Spotting Makoto on the beach, he blinked, uncertain if he was dreaming, then dashed toward her. Internal troubles both put on hold and amplified by the yearning in his eyes, Makoto scooted down to meet him. Desensitized to wet clothes, she pulled Ren flush against her and reclined to the sand as gentle waves washed around them.

If only she could find a space somewhere between land and sea. Somewhere women were accepted as sailors and sirens as friends. Such a place did not exist. Not yet. Makoto would have to carve it out herself.

A new drive filled her sails as Makoto aimed her sights higher. Naturally a diligent and hard worker, this new ambition pushed her zealousness further. Makoto didn’t find a clear answer to her conundrum, but an idea sprouted. There was a future she wanted and she needed the maritime skills no book could teach her.

It took years to gain the experience necessary to be considered proficient. Many of the best seamen were crafted as youths hopping aboard a ship and never looking back. However Makoto didn’t have the luxury of time, she refused to make Ren wait a second longer than necessary.

Her voluntary extra drills and persistence for more granted her an invite aboard a larger vessel for a three month voyage instead of the smaller craft she was originally assigned to. The navy always used a healthy mix of experts and amateurs in their crew, and for this particular trip, Makoto was the greenest. She would wring every drop of experience possible and then some.

While Sae might be more accepting of Ren, she still didn't approve of their relationship, more so now that she noticed the siren’s scales gradually losing their iridescent shine. Makoto couldn’t hold onto both worlds forever and her dithering only made it worse. Leading the boy on like this was irresponsible. Furthermore, the sisters at least had each other when their father was away, Ren was alone.

Sae knew she made for poor company, rarely socializing outside of work and known for being intense even in the best of moods, but Makoto had pleaded for her to continue visiting Ren whenever she could. And so, Sae found herself walking down the old pier at least twice a week, sometimes more, to take care of the fish while her baby sister sailed away. Just like their father did.

As much as she hated to admit it, despite the issues with communicating, Ren proved to be a good listener and wasn’t intimidated by her anger. In fact, Sae found it cathartic to vent her frustrations from the office to him. He wasn't a yes-man trying to worm into her good graces–Ren made it clear when he disagreed–nor did he look down on her with sympathy. He empathized as an equal and that made all the difference.

Both were awkward during their initial meetings, wary of each other, but as they realized on their own terms neither presented any real danger, they mellowed out considerably. Ren relaxed in her presence, even when she grew heated, but could snap back if prompted. The brat didn't need words when his insufferable actions spoke volumes.

By the fifth visit he started saving fish for her to take home. Two of everything. Sae had to decline as it was an excessive amount for one person. He froze at that, and she saw with perfect clarity the exact moment Ren’s heart broke. Makoto wasn't here.

Perhaps she was going soft on the boy who so obviously pined over her baby sister, but this relationship was hurting him and it irked Sae that Makoto continued to draw it out. However, until she returned, the siren was Sae’s unfortunate responsibility.

“Reports have come in of a trespasser skulking around the main docks in the dead of night,” Sae said in lieu of a greeting, cutting straight to the chase. “So far, there haven't been any eyewitnesses, but testimonies claim to hear suspicious sounds or swear to see a shadow vanishing into the ocean. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?”

Ren looked away–a clear admission of guilt.

“This is serious,” she stressed. “There are rumors that a sea monster is behind this. People are going to start hunting for you if you keep this up.”

No response.

“For your own safety, I’m telling you to stop.” Sae glared, burning holes through his head.

He narrowed his eyes and met her challenge unafraid–an impressive feat. Men twice her size cowed under her glare, but this boy stared back defiant.

She closed her eyes and held back a sigh of frustration, massaging her temples. “Will you at least tell me what trouble you’re getting into?”

He shook his head.

If Sae had a table she would slam it.

“I’m going to ask you one last time. Explain what’s going on or else,” she paused for effect. Sae couldn’t believe she had to resort to this, but Ren's safety was at stake. “I’m telling Makoto.”

Ren snapped to attention, disbelief and slight fear plainly visible on his face before composing himself. Frowning, he dared to challenge her bluff.

You wouldn’t.

Sae raised an eyebrow.

Try me.

He gestured out to sea.

How? She’s out there.

She smirked haughtily.

I have my ways.

He hesitated, uncertainty pulling his lips into a slight grimace before his shoulders finally slumped in defeat. Flashing a ‘wait here’ gesture, Ren dove beneath the waves and Sae mentally celebrated her victory. Makoto was right, he really wasn't hard to understand if given the chance.

A grappling hook launched out of the ocean. Skidding across the pier, one of its rusty hooks latched into a crevice and the rope pulled taut. A second joined a few planks away.

Sae watched in bafflement as Ren surfaced and swam away from the pier, pulling the ropes out so the other end surfaced. Netting. He held up netting rudimentarily shaped like a shallow basket for her to see.

The dots connected. “You're trying to go with her.”

Ren nodded and released the net, letting it sink into the gloom.

“No, it’s too dangerous,” she snapped. The list of what could go wrong ran deeper than the ocean. “You could be killed.”

He shook his head in frustration and waved nonsense at her–she didn't need to know the words.

“I take it you have no issue with me sharing this project with Makoto then?” She placed a hand on a hip and pinned him under a judging gaze. As expected, he backed down at the mention of her baby sister, but his eyes held hers, begging for Sae to understand.

She did. The consequences of their relationship would end in his death. Lured to the surface and open seas, the siren enchanted by a human would drown himself trying to get closer.

Ren clambered onto the pier. He didn’t grovel but it was close enough.

“Fine, I won’t mention it,” Sae relented feeling years older, “but I will talk to her. This has gone on long enough and someone will get seriously hurt.”

That someone being the boy who couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. Maybe she was going soft.

“You already know what Makoto would say if she knew. I don’t think I need to explain further.”

Ren stared at the grappling hooks, his mess of hair blocking his expression.

Webbed hands over heart. Both index fingers point together twist.

On the eve of her third voyage, Makoto lay with an unhappy siren pinning her down. From the moment she shared the news, he refused to release her, not even to take her to their hideout.

If we go, I’ll be tempted to keep you late so you miss your ship. I don’t want to do that to you.

It was the closest Ren came to complaining and he never gave her grief about her job. Not once.

Makoto combed her fingers through his hair and hummed a lullaby, trying to soothe the tension out of his body. Clearly upset by her unexpected departure, Ren claimed he’d be fine if given enough cuddles to last him her absence.

She got back five days ago and surprisingly was being deployed again. An urgent mission came in to escort Governor Shido to another port town and due to the last minute notice, the navy was scrambling for enough hands. The ship and crew she last sailed with had already left by the time the request was issued.

Shortly after returning from her three month voyage, Sis sat her down for a long discussion regarding Ren and his well-being. The accusations cut deep, but Makoto knew she was right.

His situation was different from the sailor wives who also missed their partners. Different from her and Sis waiting for their father to come home. They lived in a society where they only needed to walk down the street to find a friendly face. Ren’s isolation was another form of confinement where infrequent visiting hours served as his only form of social contact.

Sis urged her to think things over. Makoto could only sail one ship and she needed to choose. Between her career in the navy or relationship with Ren, which was more important? It was a question that didn’t need any debate.

“Ren?” He nuzzled closer to show he was listening. “I think… I think this will be my last voyage.”

He pulled away, questioning eyes searching hers. Guilt quickly crept onto his features and Ren shook his head. Her heart shattered. That was how Makoto knew this was the right decision to make.

Kaneshiro was still out there, but the boy in front of her mattered more.

“No, love, you aren’t stopping me from anything.” She pressed their foreheads together for a quick kiss. “You’ve supported all of my decisions, even the foolish ones, and it’s not fair that I keep asking for more. We’re equals. I can’t keep going at your expense.”

Makoto was tired of leaving him. Tired of causing him heartache. She didn’t have a plan for what she would do next, that in itself filled her with anxiety, but they would figure out something as they did every other challenge. Together.

Ren finally let go of her, putting enough distance–too much distance–between them so he could sign, But your dream.

“I’m not giving up on it,” Makoto assured. Determination coursed through her veins. She helped people just as well before she joined the navy and she could do so again. “I’ll find something else that works for the both of us. Careers are replaceable, but what we have isn’t. Ren, there is no one else in the world like you and I’d be the biggest fool to walk away. Between jobs and dreams, I’ll pick you every time.”

She leaned in for a gentle kiss then pulled him to sit up. Declaring her love came as easy as breathing when it had once kept her awake at night. This current moment of truth felt a lot like her initial confession and Makoto needed to express the depths of her feelings as clearly as possible. Ren owned every shard of her heart and deserved to know it with the same intimacy as he knew the rest of her.

“You helped me find so many more experiences outside the life I’d known. I’ve learned so much thanks to you–about myself, the world, and what’s beyond the horizon,” Makoto said aloud and through hand signals. There were no issues with her voice, she just wanted to speak in the language they built together. “I want to help people who are unjustly suffering, that goal will never change, but I won’t let it detract from my primary dream.”

Ren tilted his head perplexed; she never mentioned anything like that before.

“It’s to be with you, love.” She smiled into their kiss–the gesture necessary for an accurate translation. “I want to live with you, not just visit. I want us to be able to sleep together at night and not worry about rushing you to the ocean.”

His eyes were tearing up and hers weren’t far behind. Ren’s arms wound around her waist, subtly pulling her closer and Makoto went willingly, straddling his tail and touching their foreheads together.

“My dream is to overcome all our differences and find the overlap of our worlds where we can live freely,” she declared in the sacred space between their breaths.

The promise in their hearts shined with newfound strength, burning with love and conviction born anew. The difficult lessons learned combined with the innocent wishes of their early friendship. Nothing could separate them now.

Ren nodded against her, never breaking eye contact as tears unabashedly flowed, his happiness coalescing into brine. Whatever path Makoto chose, he would follow, but she wanted to chart their course together with equal input. No more leaving each other behind. They would live every day like last year’s summer.

“Just one last voyage and I’ll resign. Will you wait for me?”

Always.

She thought she could do it. Makoto really thought she’d be able to when facing down pirates. Lives were at stake, hers and her crew’s and yet she hesitated, unable to take a life.

Fully reliant on muscle memory, she had powered through loading the guns as chaos reigned around her. All those daily drills proving their worth in spades. Yet the number of cannons firing lessened with each reload. An easy to miss detail in the middle of battle, but one that incessantly tugged for her attention.

Obeying her gut, Makoto glanced around the gun deck and witnessed a naval officer grab another sailor from behind and slit his throat. The assassin dragged the body to an open hatch and dropped it to the floor below as another boom drowned out the impact.

Ignoring the rising nausea, Makoto cocked her pistol and crept closer. She knew him. He was a boy about her age who was promoted to an officer despite being so young, recognized for his natural talent and people skills. One of the many condescending naysayers who often snubbed her.

She pressed the barrel against his back and his hands slowly rose in surrender.

“Traitor!” Makoto yelled above the noise, attracting the attention of her fellow crewmates. “This is mutiny! No–” The pieces were falling into place.

How did two pirate ships successfully dock in their harbor without being noticed? How did Kaneshiro know the date of the administrative reception? How did pirates know when and where the Governor’s convoy would be in the middle of the open ocean?

“–You’re the inside man. You’re colluding with the pirates!”

Suddenly unconcerned of the gun, the backstabber turned to face her, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

“And what are you going to do about it?” the snake taunted.

She just needed to pull the trigger and Makoto would end his wretched life. Avenge her fallen crewmates and the civilians who suffered from Kaneshiro’s attack. This boy was one of the villains she pledged to bring to justice.

He grabbed her trembling hands and raised the pistol to his forehead. “Well? What are you waiting for? Take the shot.”

Cries echoed behind her, but Makoto stood frozen under the boy’s scornful gaze.

“Of course you can’t. You’re just a good-girl type of pushover,” he sneered then twisted the gun from her grasp.

Instinct kicked in and Makoto swung a fist, wiping that smirk off his face and sending him sprawling across the floor, but it was too late. A man grabbed her from behind, forcing Makoto to her knees.

All around her, the sounds of close quarter fighting alerted her of more conspirators in their midst. How much of this was staged? Who could be trusted?

How was she going to escape?

“Don’t kill her!” the traitor ordered, nursing his cheek. “Captain Kaneshiro wants that one alive.”

Her heart thudded painfully, fear raking its cold fingers across her skin. Kaneshiro was here.

The ship rocked beneath them as the pirates grappled and boarded. The screaming overhead didn’t last long and soon Makoto was hauled onto the bloody main deck. Bodies were kicked aside by their deceitful fellow crewmates. Navy against navy and the pirates won, their uniforms stained red with treachery.

She glared at the turncoats as they bound her hands behind her back with rope. Makoto recognized all of them. Yet the biggest slap to the face was dealt by Governor Shido himself strolling out of the captain’s quarters completely detached to the massacre of his men. Barking orders to pirates and defectors alike, his true colors flew loud and proud.

They didn’t just allow Kaneshiro into their harbor, they sent him a cordial invite and offered their town up on a silver platter. Political enemies were swiftly eliminated and their seats filled by his cronies as Shido consolidated absolute bureaucratic power. He had tried to remove Sis.

“So this is the girl who destroyed my ship,” drawled a loathsome voice. A hand roughly grabbed Makoto’s face, harshly straining her neck upward to look directly at the man she swore to take down. “Do you have any idea how much money you cost me? I’ll make sure you earn back every coin.”

Her heart growled as Kaneshiro shoved her back and Makoto snarled like a siren. “You won’t get away with this.”

The pirate scoffed, walking away. “What can a weak girl like you do?”

Temper flaring, she couldn’t help herself from retorting, “I’ll sink your ship again.”

A blow sent her careening to the center of the deck.

“What was that, you little shit?” Kaneshiro growled, stalking over to her. He lifted Makoto’s head by her hair. “Maybe I need to teach you some manners myself. Pretty little navy wannabe, you can be my personal slave. I’m sure you’ll be a big morale boost for my crew.”

“Enough,” Shido interrupted, barely sparing her a glance, “we’re wasting time.”

Kaneshiro clicked his tongue and dropped her, making for the captain’s quarters. So Shido was the man in charge here.

“I’ll tell everyone the truth,” Makoto called after them. Part of her whimpered in fear of her fate, but the louder half roared with unrestrained fury. “You can't hide your crimes forever, Shido!”

“You’re as stupid as your sister, the navy are my bitches.” The man didn’t stop walking, only faltering as the ship began to tilt, knocking into the neighboring vessel.

“Wave! Grab hold!” someone called too late.

A rogue wave crashed, lurching the ship near sideways as water swept across the deck. Not enough to drag men overboard, but the loud crunching of wood threatened both vessels may not survive further impact.

“Cut the grappling ropes!” Kaneshiro hollered.

Another wave was building fast and Makoto wanted to cry. Someway, somehow, Ren was here. She pushed herself to a mast, bracing against it as a second wave hit, knocking the pirate ship a safe distance away. With the path to the ocean cleared, she scrambled to her promised freedom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shido yanked the back of her collar. “Unfortunately, you’re part of my deal. You aren’t escaping that easily.”

“Let go!”

Makoto twisted and turned, unable to break from his hold as Shido dragged her with him across the deck. She fought with everything she had, just needing the next wave to sweep her into the sea, but her heart sank as they neared cover.

Another warning was shouted and a wave crashed aboard, not quite as powerful as the previous two. But as the water raced across the deck a different word was cried in alarm that spiked her panic.

“Siren!”

Ren barreled toward her as the ship swayed, riding the swell. Ignoring the pirates, he reached for her only for Shido to unintentionally step in his path as the man regained balance.

Shark teeth flashed. The blood of a villain bloomed.

Screaming, Shido dropped her and kicked Ren off as all hell broke loose. Every bit the wild and dangerous monster people believed him to be, Ren spit out fabric and flesh, fins flaring as bloody jaws opened menacingly. But in the mayhem of pirates closing in weapons drawn, Makoto saw his eyes flick to her several times, his worry and fear for her stronger than concern for his own safety.

In his haste to reach her, Ren was now stranded in the center of the deck with no way to escape to the water. With her hands tied, he wouldn’t sing. The gravity of their predicament fell upon her as heavy as the weighted netting over him.

“Goddamn monster!” Shido cursed, clutching his leg.

The traitorous officer from before approached, blade in hand. “Why isn’t it singing?”

He tilted Ren’s head up with his sword, baring the siren’s scarred neck and hummed in amusement. Ren jerked away, careless of the sharp edge and hissed.

“A silent siren,” the boy mocked, “what worthless trash.”

Before anyone could attack, Shido commanded them to halt. Adjusting his skewed glasses, he stared astonished. “I know you.”

Recognition lit up on Ren’s face and a burst of anger erupted in Makoto hotter than anything she experienced before. Ren knew very few humans which meant–

“My siren. To think you’d escape and attack once I set out to sea. It was a mistake to trust that fool Madarame with taming you.”

Ren snarled, straining against the net, but despite his aggression, Makoto knew his tells. This feral behavior served as a ruse, masking his discreet inspection of the netting, just as she had taught him.

He wasn’t giving up and that knocked Makoto back into the game. Scanning the deck, she noted their positions, pieces of a plan starting to form.

“I want it kept alive!” Shido ordered as he limped into the captain’s quarters, Kaneshiro and a doctor at his side. The door slammed shut behind them.

So far no one realized what Ren was capable of nor that her presence was the only factor blocking his song. His stormy glare swept around the pirates, ensuring his eyes didn’t linger on her for long.

With everyone’s attention focused on him, Makoto shifted, turning around to show him her bound hands.

Point to Ren. Thumbs up. Head tilt.

Head fin flap. Wrist roll motion down. Wobbly thumbs up.

Makoto subtly nodded as she calculated the distance to the railing. She had vowed Ren wouldn’t fall into captivity again and she’d be damned to let it happen now. With his life on the line, her resolve hardened. Makoto was ready to pull the trigger.

Distract them, she signed and Ren hissed immediately, thrashing his tail against the deck.

Creeping toward the railing, Makoto kept vigilant of the pirate’s attention, only moving when she was certain their backs were turned. All of them, the petty officer especially, were engrossed in the sea monster’s flailing, making her escape relatively easy. Her heartbeat sped up once her back hit the guardrail.

Breathing in that sweet, salty air, Makoto placed her bet on him. This was her biggest gamble by far, but Ren never let her down before. Even if he failed, as long as her beloved swam free, she would be satisfied.

Rising to her feet, she threw one leg over the railing.

“Ren,” Makoto called, calm, confident, and commanding.

All eyes turned to her, but she didn't falter; her attention focused solely on the one person who mattered. Memories of a sickly boy, only skin and bone, cramped in a glass prison set her blood aflame. She will never let them take Ren. Not now, not ever.

“Sing.”

The last thing Makoto saw was Ren’s terrified expression as she surrendered herself to the sea.

Sae sat alone in the dark, her meager dinner cold and untouched. What was the point? Both her father and baby sister sailed away never to return. Always leaving her behind. Always thrusting responsibilities onto her that Sae wasn’t sure she could handle.

When the Governor returned with barely a quarter of the crew he set out with, something died within her when Makoto failed to disembark with them. They knew the risks. The possibility of her baby sister never returning kept Sae awake some nights, but this time that siren went with her.

She suspected he would, despite Makoto promising to quit, and sure enough, Ren never appeared again. Sae prayed the siren would bring Makoto home but hope dwindled with each passing day. If she was going to lose Makoto with or without him, she would’ve preferred Ren listening to reason and staying behind so at least Sae could cry with someone who understood her pain.

She cursed and mourned him in equal measure, bitterly recognizing he had done no wrong. Neither of them had. Yet a year ago, Sae antagonized them at every turn. Hurling spiteful words and empty threats. Now here she was, grieving the deaths of her baby sister and bratty brother.

The Governor gave her two weeks off and offered his sympathies at the mass funeral. When she returned to the office numb to everything, he shook his head and sighed, suggesting that perhaps it was time for her to find a husband and settle down. Sae couldn’t find the energy to bite back with her usual fire. Shooting a glare at anyone else who said the same, she threw herself into work.

They needed a stronger navy to crush pirates? She’d make it happen, proposing several mandatory draft policies. Laws too loose suspected pirates could walk free? Sae strangled them with any scrap of evidence proving otherwise. Vengeance was the only motivator fueling her now.

A walking storm threatening to sink anyone in her path, people learned to steer clear and leave her well alone. To them, she was nothing but a bitter and resentful workaholic, trapped in endless regret and grief.

A cold winter wind blew across the bay, signalling the approaching winter, marking the anniversary of Makoto introducing her to Ren. And on that day, Sae sat alone in the dark, a ghost of her former self, contemplating all the what-if’s and drowning herself in guilt.

The soft clicking of metal stirred her to life once more. Someone was trying to break into her house. A pirate? She will see to it personally that they’ll be hanged for this bold transgression if she didn’t finish the job herself. The only treasures in this house were the ones in Makoto’s room and Sae would not lose what was left of her.

Tiptoeing, she retreated to the hallway just as the front door creaked open and closed just as quickly. Retrieving her father’s sword, Sae waited with bated breath as footsteps padded just outside her room, the door slightly ajar.

The intruder lightly knocked, whispering, “Sis?”

The sword clanged loudly to the floor startling the incredible impossibility into a frenzied string of apologies. “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry! WhereareyouSis?”

“Makoto!” Sae whirled through the doorway to find a crying ball on the floor. She threw her arms around the precious miracle, soothing her frightened baby sister just as she did all those yesterdays ago. “I’m here, Makoto. You’re safe now.”

After a moment spanning far too long and far too short, both needing the familial comfort more than they realized, the sisters dried their tears and moved to Makoto’s room. There she was quick to stop Sae from lighting a candle.

“No one can know I’m here,” she said and explained Shido’s treason while gathering her important belongings.

Her risky gamble paid off. Ren escaped into the ocean before Makoto drowned, forced to keep her ears submerged as he sang his heart out. An extremely difficult task to accomplish while fighting the ocean swells without her arms.

Once he reached her, Ren swam as fast as he could, but they were in the middle of the open sea. Neither knew where they were and it took more than a day to reach land. By then Makoto was delirious with fever and Ren weak with exhaustion. But he never let up, gnawing through the rope to free her even as his mouth bled.

That was how a delinquent with a heart of gold found them. He took her to a cynical, yet kind back-alley doctor who nursed her to health and the rest was history.

“I’m sorry it took so long to return. Sending a message was too dangerous, Shido would kill you if he found out,” Makoto said, fiddling with her scallop pendant.

“You made the right call. We don’t know how far his reach is.” Shido was lucky Sae couldn’t wring his neck this instant. The thunderous roaring in her heart demanded swift retribution, but that option wasn’t feasible. Instead she moved onto the more pressing subject. “What are you going to do now?”

Makoto tightly gripped the shell and faced her with conviction. “I’m going to become a pirate.”

“What?!”

“I can’t stay here. Shido controls the navy and law enforcement, plus has deals with other dangerous people like Kaneshiro and the con artist, Madarame.” She paused, taking a moment to reign in her anger. “The corrupt system is against us. I can’t fight him within the law so I’ll have to operate outside of it.”

Taking Sae’s silence as disapproval, Makoto quickly assured, “Don’t worry, my goals and dreams remain the same. I’ll only target those who prey upon others. This is my justice.”

“Your ‘justice,’ huh?” she sighed, crossing her arms. “You sound a lot like Dad.”

Both sisters looked away. His memory–his legacy–lived strong within them. He wasn’t the best father, but he worked hard to ensure his daughters were well equipped to take on the unfair future.

“Come with me,” Makoto declared suddenly, but Sae knew that wasn’t the right path for her. “Shido might try something again.”

“No, my role is to stay here. Don’t give me that look, I’ll be careful. You’ll need solid evidence to build a case against him and I’ll dig into what I can. We’ll fight him together, both in and outside of the law.”

Her baby sister sniffled, tears rising. Sae felt them too, and did nothing to stop the dam from leaking. Pulling Makoto into a tight hug, the sisters cried their farewells in a warm embrace.

“How did you grow into such a strong-willed, independent woman?” Sae asked, cradling Makoto close in what could be their final moments together.

“I got that from my big Sis.”

The Phantom Queen hadn't been at sea for very long, only nearing her first anniversary, yet her fearsome reputation spread far and wide. No ship could escape her sights nor could any navy vessel catch her. As if borne on a current of her own, she was hailed as the fastest ship to ever sail, captained by a master strategist.

In contrast to the notoriety, life on the Phantom Queen was fairly ordinary as far as seafaring went. They had their fair share of monotonous doldrum days, wild thrills on the waves, and thunderous arguments. Yet with every voyage, their ragtag crew of outcasts grew stronger and closer. A family that celebrated all the highs and carried each other through the lows.

However, the crew all agreed, what set their everyday life head and shoulders above the rest was definitely the fresh seafood. Fishing nets always returned rich with spoils of the sea whenever they were cast out.

“On the count of three.”

“Three!”

Hoisting the heavy nets onboard, the pair’s uncoordinated efforts sent their contents spilling across the main deck. A school of bait fish as well as larger open ocean varieties tumbled out, flopping helplessly.

“Ah, shit,” the vulgar pirate grumbled at the mess.

“What a haul!” his fluffy haired companion cheered.

A black blur darted out, pouncing on a fish more than half his size. The little tuxedo cat, resident rodent hunter and seafood connoisseur, dragged his struggling prey to the feet of a fiery blonde. Meowing for attention, he presented his prize to the girl.

“Aw, is that for me, Morgana? Much better than the rat you gave me this morning.”

“Yo Ann, come and help!”

“Ugh, fine. Let me get Yusuke, too.” The girl turned to the crow’s nest and hollered for the young man up top. She could see his head peeking over, clearly not doing his job as look out per usual.

Fingers covered in graphite, the artist hastily shaded in the finishing touches on his latest sketch. A composition of daily life onboard the Phantom Queen as seen by a bird–an ongoing series. Smudging the stains off his fingers onto his shirt, he carefully stowed his sketchbook and began his descent.

Meanwhile the rest of the crew got to work tossing fish into barrels to be properly dealt with after the main deck became usable again. Grumbling and laughing and bickering.

At the commotion, their young navigator came bouncing onto the deck. “Woohoo, what a haul! Sojiro! I demand fish curry for dinner!”

An older gentleman, the crew’s cook, chuckled at his daughter’s antics. “Coming right up. But first, you need to help get this place cleaned.”

“Boooo.”

“Hey, dude!” the vulgar pirate shouted over the railing. “Wanna come up?”

Below, a siren floated next to the anchored ship. On his back, eyes closed, he appeared the definition of peace soaking in the feeling of warm sunshine and cool ocean. At the call, he looked up and nodded.

“One sec!” The blonde boy reached for the bosun’s chair rigging to toss overboard.

“I’ll pull him up.”

“Cap’n!”

The fearsome pirate captain of the Phantom Queen picked her way over. With practiced precision, she easily hoisted the siren onboard, settling him on the railing as she cleared the rigging. The moment she returned, he wound his arms around her neck and pulled the captain in for a quick kiss.

I love you.

She pressed their foreheads together, uncaring of the seawater soaking her clothes.

I love you, too.

Lifting her lover–he adored being held in her strong arms–she brought them to the edge of the fish pile. Together, surrounded by the rest of their little, squabbling family, they helped clean the deck and prepare their catch. An unglamorous, unromantic task, but there was nowhere else the two would rather be.

Makoto stirred awake to the bed dipping. The soft sloshing of water brought a smile to her face as she rolled onto her back to sleepily watch Ren crawl out of his tub for morning cuddles. Accustomed to seawater soaking her sheets daily, Makoto paid no mind to the blooming cold, instead opening her arms for Ren to sink into.

He smirked, shark teeth peeking out as he loomed over her, not succumbing to temptation just yet. Webbed hands planted on either side of her as his eyes danced with mischief. Purposely trapping Makoto beneath him, Ren let water droplets roll off his wet hair and onto her face for a rude wake up call.

Giggling, she lightly slapped his arm and wiped her face with the covers before shoving it into Ren’s face to do the same. He shook with silent laughter, holding still for her to mop him dry as she pleased. Dropping the now damp blanket back to her chest, Makoto cupped a hand to his cheek and Ren immediately melted into it, eyes closing in delight as her thumb stroked his scales.

Makoto's treasured piece of the sea. Wild and dangerous, playful and gentle, and oh so beautiful.

Needing to be closer, Ren peeled away the damp blanket separating their bare beating hearts as Makoto tangled her fingers into his untamable hair. With little prompting, Ren dove down for a deep kiss they both eagerly drowned in.

Life on the Phantom Queen wasn’t perfect. There were many days the burden as captain proved too much to bear and Makoto sought the comfort of Ren’s quiet embrace. Between the management of their rowdy crew and the pressure that one mistake could cost them everything, it ate at her.

Makoto hated it.

Hated navigating the moral dilemmas of piracy. Hated living constantly on the run as a wanted outlaw. Hated the ache of homesickness and worrying over Sis.

But more than that, she loved them. Her crew, her chosen path, Ren. And as he was always quick to remind, Makoto was not alone. Not anymore. She had all of them to lean on willing to share the burden, and a growing network of connections supporting her. All evidence Makoto was sailing in the right direction.

As a little girl, Makoto feared the monsters hiding in the dark–she still did–yet now she knew the ones on land parading as human were infinitely worse than any living in the deep. She will chase the justice her howling heart yearned for, dispel the darkness smothering the weak, and free those wrongly imprisoned. No siren show would be tolerated.

Ren’s lips found her own again, breaking Makoto from her absent musings, conveying without words the language of his love. Smiling into the kiss, Makoto replied in kind with just as much fervour. Theirs was a relationship built on patience and love as boundless as the sea.

Life on the Phantom Queen wasn’t perfect, but Makoto wouldn’t trade it for the world. Out here beneath the sky stretching unhindered across the horizon, out here in the meeting place between land and sea, out here where she could freely love Ren and receive his love in return, Makoto was home. And so was he.