(no subject)
Ack. I was fine earlier today, but my jaw's starting to hurt more. D:
I forgot to post this here, but. Written for dimension_shop's third challenge: AU. Written for chibineko.
Title: Beneath the Waves
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Wordcount: 5,215
Summary: In a small coastal village, a boy is stolen away by the sea.
In a coastal village to the north lived a young fisherman by the name of Shizuka. He was a rather solitary man, spending most of his time out to sea with only the gulls and the fish. Some people said that he spoke to them, and well he might have. But it was not uncommon to speak to animals, and as far as he or any of the villagers knew, they never replied. This certainly was no concern of Shizuka's; his main interest was in the catching of fish.
He was very good at catching fish.
It was whispered sometimes among the women at market, or the men drinking in pubs, or the children playing on the beach, that Shizuka's luck was not natural. Some claimed that he was a favorite of the sea gods, while others theorised that he was not human - a selkie, perhaps, or some other fey of the seas. Some whispered that he had made a deal with the devil, exchanged something of value - perhaps the lives of his parents and grandfather, lost at sea years ago when Shizuka had been but a young child.
Shizuka did not seem to know of these things that were said about him. He sold his fish for a fair price and spoke courteously, if seldom, to those who did business with him. And so despite what was whispered, no one really took offense to him or really paid close attention to what he did in those hours he did not spend out to sea.
--
In that same village also lived a boy who worked for the apothecary. His name, if anyone had cared to remember it, was Kimihiro, and he was of absolutely no importance whatsoever.
He had turned up on the apothecary's doorstep as a baby, and there had never been any indication of his origins. His fair skin hinted that there might be nobility somewhere in his lineage, but no one really cared enough to investigate. Of possessions, he had one: a fur cap that the apothecary had made for him of a sealskin washed ashore, too drab too be noticed but not of poor enough quality to stand out. And so he had grown up with generally no attention from the townsfolk - no conflicts, but no regard either.
If they had paid him more notice, they might have observed that he was often skittish, and jumped at things that no one else saw. If they had sought his assistance, they might have discovered that he was eager to please and always willing to give something of his time or himself to anyone who needed it. But they never did, and he never presented himself, and so the rift between the boy and the village only grew with the passage of time.
--
One night, a storm blew in.
Shizuka was sitting by the window with a mug of tea, staring out at the breakwater and the wild waves beyond, thinking deep thoughts. And while he was no expecting it, he was not particularly surprised when a large swell eventually crossed the breakwater to toss the boats tied within the harbour.
He was surprised when the wave did not stop there, but crept up the street against every force of nature that ought to have held it back. Eyes narrowing, Shizuka watched it climb the hill, slinking past doors and around corners. The wind that followed banged shutters shut and upset unsecured items that lined the streets, sending them downhill into the sea. Eventually the climbing wave disappeared from view, but Shizuka continued to watch the water rise and fall, churn angrily against the breakwater. He searched for patterns and perhaps a message in the waves, but whatever he saw there did not answer the questions that beat against his skull.
He fell asleep there, in the chair by the window, and in the morning he was woken by brusque rapping on his door. Unbolting the door and drawing it open, he found himself face-to-face with a small mob.
"Did you or did you not summon the sea?" demanded one woman; whom Shizuka recognised vaguely as the smith's wife. She regularly bought his wares.
"I summoned nothing," Shizuka replied.
The headman squeezed his way from amidst the small crowd. "We are not seeking to place blame," he said tiredly, without glancing at the smith's wife. "It is just that the apothecary's assistant has gone missing, and last night's storm was anything but natural. Might you know what happened?"
Shizuka considered, slowly retracing his memories of the night previous for occurrences that he recognised. "I don't," he said at last, troubled. This was almost the truth. He didn't know what had happened. But his guess was probably close to the truth, much as he would have liked it to be otherwise. For Shizuka knew that if he was right, there would be no saving the unfortunate boy.
Or rather, the saving would be such a slim chance against such great odds as to be nigh impossible.
"He didn't take shelter somewhere else?" Shizuka asked, not wanting to arrive at any conclusions until he had ruled out all others.
"We are searching now," replied the headman. The crowd behind him seemed to find this the appropriate time to disperse and return to whatever tasks they had originally been undertaking. "Several of the fishermen intend to take their boats out to search for him once they have bailed and made the necessary repairs after last night."
"I wish them luck," Shizuka said, and nodded once to the headman before disappearing inside. There he sat for a long time, turning a scrap of fur over and over in his hands and thinking much in the same vein as he had the night before. His thoughts did not comfort him, or make the day seem any less ominous than it had felt earlier.
He watched from the window as one by one the other boat-owners sailed through the harbor mouth, and observed with little surprise as another storm blew up later that afternoon, pushing them back into the safety of the harbour. Then Shizuka did descend from his home to help tie up the boats, and to hear what he already knew - that further search attempts were impossible in this weather. That the unfortunate apothecary's assistant was doubtlessly lost to sea.
As the afternoon approached evening, the people of the town dejectedly returned to their usual business, save for Shizuka, who still waited by the docks. He knew exactly where the missing boy probably was, and he didn't like the thought of it at all.
Nonetheless, he donned the waterproof oilcloth and began untying his small boat. No one else would have known where to go. It was common sense that he go instead, personal investment aside. He didn't really know the missing boy that well, but Shizuka barely knew anyone beyond a nod in the street. But he'd paid attention to Kimihiro the apothecary's assistant because the boy was interesting. And if he wasn't much mistaken…
…well, he probably hadn't been the only one to make that observation.
Shizuka was just about to cast off when one of the townspeople came running after him, waving madly. As she approached, Shizuka recognised her as Himawari, the priest's eldest daughter. She was nice. There was not much to her that particularly stood out to Shizuka, but she was kind, benevolent. Right now she looked concerned.
"You're going out into the storm?" she asked, breathing heavily as she ran down the pier. "To look for Kimihiro?"
Shizuka nodded, pausing in his preparations.
She didn't say anything about the awful weather, though she glanced warily out to the open sea and probably thought of it. "Please bring him back," she murmured. "Wherever he is now, it's not good, is it?"
If Shizuka had been someone else, he might have spared her and said he did not know, or that it was not so bad as that. But he only nodded again. "It's not good." His voice was steady, distant, and Himawari felt herself shiver a bit in a way that was not from the cold of the stormy air. She knew then, also, that she was not welcome in this storm.
"Good luck," she said, and then ran back to the safety of the town. Then she turned around and watched as Shizuka pushed off from the quay and sailed into the storm beyond the harbour wall, nets trailing behind in the water like a lady's train.
The sea raged against his boat as if enraged that he dare sail against it, and despite the oilcloth Shizuka was soon soaked. The wind spat torrents of rain at him, and the sea crashed into his boat on all sides until it seemed as if the hull could take no more, and the wood creaked ominously. But it continued to hold together, as Shizuka steered as best he could toward the open ocean, away from the rock of the shore. From where he floated he could scarcely make out the beam of light from the lighthouse on the bluff, and he steered away from that.
The further he sailed, the greater the storm grew, until he could no longer direct the path he took. Wave after wave smashed against the boat, growing larger and larger - and then at last a great wave towered for a moment above the doomed craft before crashing down, splintering her and flinging Shizuka into the sea to surely drown.
But Shizuka took a deep breath, and when he hit the water and went under he swam with all his might toward the ocean floor. It was a fool's errand, he knew, but no one else could possibly have saved Kimihiro.
--
The boy called Kimihiro had not expected anything that had happened, but after being roughly plucked from the apothecary's doorway and plunged through icy water to the bottom of the sea, he had definitely not expected the warm welcome he had received. He had been set down lightly in a brilliantly-lit garden and found that not only could he breathe as if he were above the surface, but that the water around him was warm. He had not had much time to marvel at this, for a throng of colourful people emerged from unseen places to exclaim over him.
"He's here!" they cried, and then they had lifted him and bore him away, through the undersea garden and into what must have been a city. But such a city, Kimihiro had never before seen - homes were cut into the rock itself, while the seabed was thick with seaweed of every hue of green. How such a place could exist in the cold northern sea, Kimihiro did not know.
He was carried above the seaweed and then into another garden in a nook in the rock. There the throng had set him down before a tall man in flowing green robes that completely obscured his lower torso and legs. He smirked dazzlingly at his captive. "Welcome, Kimihiro," the man said.
"Where - what is this place?" Kimihiro asked, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second in the face of such splendour.
"This is my garden," the man replied. "These are my subjects. This place is your new home." He spoke genially, but his tone did not offer room for objection. Kimihiro swallowed and did not attempt to do so. "You are ours now."
--
Several hours later and in the seaweed below, Shizuka made his winding way into the city, catching his breath. He did not know how it was that he was breathing easily now, but he did not waste the opportunity - he was certain that the inhabitants of this city, should they learn of his presence, would not extend a warm welcome. In fact, they would not likely suffer his presence there long at all. But he had no choice.
Or rather, he had no other choice if he was going to save Kimihiro. And he was going to save Kimihiro.
He followed the road and listened for the slow sounds of underwater speech. It was by enchantment that speech could be understood here, that breath could be taken from the sea, but this enchantment could not change the inherent nature of water. Everything was slower in water - sound, movement, thought. Shizuka knew the trap of deep sea peace all too well. Move too quickly and the sea itself would fight back. But the slowness necessary was exactly what gave the people here their power.
And now they had Kimihiro in their grasp. For now he would be safe, but the interest of the fey never lasted for long. Soon enough they would tire of their pet human. Soon enough, they would cast out the old for the new. And Shizuka would not let this happen.
He had seen many people, drowning in the blue, be sucked down below into the glittering cities of the deep-sea fey. And always after the next storm, their bodies would drift ashore. Abandoned. There was a price for the beauty below.
Shizuka continued to walk.
This city he knew better than other such, which was lucky - but not necessarily the good kind of luck. It did mean that he knew where he was going, and it meant that he could make his way to the rooms where human visitors - human prisoners - were kept.
It did not take long to find Kimihiro, once inside. The boy was in the process of being groomed by two children of blue and pink hair. They both glanced to the door when Shizuka stopped, and smiled falsely at him. "This is not your place," they chorused.
Kimihiro turned with a start. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I followed you," said Shizuka.
"But why?"
Glancing once at the two children, who gazed imperiously back and did not move, Shizuka leaned against the doorframe. "To bring you back."
Kimihiro glared then at him with a fury that Shizuka could not have predicted. "Bring me back? It's not your choice! I don't know why you even bothered coming after me, but I'm not going back, and you won't make me. They treat me better down here than anyone ever did back there!"
Without an expression, Shizuka merely watched. He did not reply, even when the glare on the boy's face might have indicated that a response was desired. And this seemed to anger Kimihiro further, until he gave up on a reply so that he could properly voice his rage.
"Down here, people admire me! I have use! What's even the point of me living back in the village? No one notices! Why did you even bother?" His voice grew in volume as he spoke, as if trying to push Shizuka away with the force of his words.
"You have something of mine," Shizuka replied, staring pointedly at the pile of discarded human clothes on the floor, now replaced by cloth better suited to the sea. Kimihiro's gaze followed, and then snapped back.
"Nothing here is yours!" he yelled.
Shizuka reverted his gaze to the boy's face and did not say anything more for a long time.
"I'll stay," he said eventually.
Kimihiro stared. "You'll what?"
"I'll stay."
"You won't!"
There was no argument in Shizuka's face, only simple resolution. "It's not your decision. I'm staying." With one last glance to the pile of clothes, he turned and half-walked, half-swam out.
--
Maru and Moro - the attendants that the king had given Kimihiro, both of whom had disappeared sometime during the argument - reappeared soon after the unexpected guest had left. They told him in their disconcerting unison that there was a meal in the king's garden and that Kimihiro was requested to attend, and then whisked him off before he could agree.
The king was already seated there with his court, and smirked at Kimihiro as the boy was escorted to a vacant place next to him. "We have an esteemed guest here tonight, all the way from the surface. It is his doing that we have such a feast tonight. I promised him a trifle; you should stay to see it."
Kimihiro glanced around in sudden horrible realisation. Sure enough, to the king's other side was Shizuka the fisherman. He did not make any indication of recognising the other human, but merely inclined his head in an indifferent greeting. So that was how it would proceed. Kimihiro could ignore him just as easily, and irritably he began to do just that.
The meal took far more time than Kimihiro could stand, especially with the added difficulty of ignoring Shizuka. This was difficult because the fisherman insisted upon talking to the King - or rather, the King spoke to the fisherman, who replied almost monosyllabically. Kimihiro was not entirely sure how the King did not find this terribly annoying. Perhaps, to a being like him, these things were too trivial to be worth becoming upset.
Once the feast had ended, the King sat back against his throne and surveyed his most recent guest. "You have fed us very well," he said. "You must allow me to repay you. Name a gift, and I will give it to you."
Shizuka glanced very briefly toward Kimihiro, and then back at the King. "I don't know," he said clearly.
The King assumed an expression of amused surprise. "What do you mean by that?"
"You can't give me what I want," Shizuka replied. "And anything else would be worthless."
All the amusement drained from the King's face, to be replaced by the beginnings of anger. "You insult me," he said warningly. "My hospitality is not unconditional, fisherman."
Shizuka did not respond in speech, but the implacable expression upon his visage spoke quite clearly for his reaction. This wasn't going well, and even though Kimihiro was more than annoyed with his would-be rescuer, he didn't want anyone getting hurt. Especially not someone who'd cared enough to come looking for him. "Can we work this out?" he asked, trying to sound as polite as he could.
All faces turned toward him as if they had only just seen him, and the King slowly smiled again. "What would you have us do?" he inquired lazily. "What gift should I give to this… impudent guest?"
That had not been part of the plan, and now Kimihiro stammered as he cast about for an appropriate reply. "I - I'm not sure, Your, um, Majesty," he said. "I'm not familiar with the, um, bounties of your realm."
For a moment no one spoke, and then the King's smile widened but a fraction of an inch. "Very well, then," he said. "I'll have to provide him with an equal gift. For the feast he provided us - we'll feed him equally." He turned his smile upon the rest of the court, all of whom mirrored it. Kimihiro couldn't place it, but there was something vaguely unnerving about the smile he saw repeated around the garden, as if he were on the receiving end of a joke that he hadn't caught.
Then he happened to catch a glimpse of Shizuka's face - and found it not to be completely unreadable, but displaying a shocking amount of alarm. The fisherman stood suddenly, schooling his expression to inscrutable once more. "I'll take the boy," he said steadily.
"Pardon?" replied the King. "You did not know your mind before."
"I'm not interested in food," Shizuka said bluntly. "Keep it for yourselves. I'll take the boy as repayment."
Angrily, Kimihiro stood as well. "I told you, you're not -”
The sudden reappearance of emotion on Shizuka's face cut him off. "They're going to kill you," the fisherman told him. "I don't eat humans. Especially not you."
Dumbfounded, Kimihiro could not formulate a response - and then suddenly the garden was surrounded by merfolk wielding sharp spears. The message was clear: no one would leave until the King allowed it.
"The entertainment value has worn off," rumbled the King. "Human, I would say to learn your place, but it's too late for that!" He rose from his seat, and with one fluid and rapid motion tossed Shizuka into the center of the garden. "As for you - the charade is over! Show us your real form, fisherman."
But Shizuka merely straightened where he had landed. "I can't," he stated, gaze once more turning to Kimihiro. This time, the eyes of the entire court followed suit. Suddenly he remembered the fur hat he'd been carrying. It had only foolish sentimental value, being a gift from the apothecary who had raised him. He'd always had it with him since - and it had come with him to the kingdom of the merfolk. In fact, it was with him now.
It was made of sealskin. And Kimihiro had a feeling he knew who had previously worn it.
This made a lot of sense. There was really no reason for Shizuka to have taken an interest in him in the first place, if not for the hat. And why should he have followed Kimihiro all the way to the bottom of the sea? The life of a human he knew only in passing seemed a silly objective. The claiming of part of his selkie skin was an entirely different story. Somehow, this was comforting.
He pushed off from where he sat, floating toward where Shizuka stood. "Is that why you followed me?" he asked.
Shizuka did not look directly at him, instead scanning the garden around them as if waiting for an attack. "I can't save every human they bring down here," he said quietly. "And as I am, I can't save my clansmen who die here. But I can save you."
The King glowered at them from his throne. "Selkie," he spat. "I bested your chief in combat. You cannot hope to win against me."
"You seduced him," Shizuka replied. "He's still protesting," he added in an undertone, and despite the situation Kimihiro had to bottle a slightly hysterical laugh.
"He had better taste than some others of his kind," the King growled. "You'd know all about that, though. Pity you'll never make it out of here alive. I'd like to see the scorn you're received with once your beloved clan learns of your actions here."
But Shizuka merely planted his feet firmly on the seabed, grabbing and clenching Kimihiro's arm as he did so. "Hold your breath," he said, and then as the spear-wielders came charging forward, he pushed off and both shot up into the suddenly frigid ocean water.
Without the enchantment of the merfolk's city, the cold pressed all around Kimihiro, benumbing his fingers and feet. He could not see through the salt water that now burned his eyes, so he shut them and tried to hold on to the arm that still gripped him like a vise. His chest felt tight, overfull; and when he released his breath it ached to refill. But he could not take another breath without choking and drowning, and so he stubbornly held it as his lungs protested and his pulse beat loudly in his ears. The rushing of liquid grew faint, the cold not so noticeable, as if he were no longer connected to his body but by a lingering sense of possession.
Chancing the stinging of salt once more, Kimihiro opened his eyes and looked up, struggling to maintain consciousness. Light played above at the surface somewhere, but he couldn't tell how far away this was. Still they traveled upwards - Shizuka for all his other faults seemed to be a strong swimmer. He must also have had larger lungs, for he had not yet faltered.
But Kimihiro was not so lucky, and eventually he could not keep himself conscious any longer. Chest burning, head squeezing, he blacked out.
--
Shizuka felt it when the other went limp, and swam all the faster for it. If he had been able to assume his proper form, this would have been no trouble at all for him, but even shaped as a human he still had the athleticism of a seal. Even so, would it be enough?
After what seemed like eternity, the surface loomed ahead, and with one last kick he powered through, into the bitterly cold air above. The shore was not too far off, and once he had caught his breath he swam there, pulling the unconscious Kimihiro behind him.
He climbed out onto the land, dripping with seawater and shivering, and instantly turned his attention to the boy he'd saved - or tried to. When Kimihiro had blacked out, Shizuka had been able to support him through the power he had partially retained from the part of his skin that he still possessed. But once on land, that power had faded - and the boy wasn't breathing.
Trying to ignore the cliché of it all, Shizuka knelt in the sand next to him and placed both hands on Kimihiro's chest, which did not rise or fall. Fortunately for all concerned, he did know what to do.
--
For a moment Kimihiro wondered if he were dreaming, but as he regained coherence in his thinking, he realised that he was lying on sand and extremely cold, and that he must have survived the swim after all. After a few seconds more he finally noticed Shizuka next to him, and sat up in surprise.
"What are you doing, looming over me like that?!" he demanded, willing the adrenaline rush to subside.
Shizuka characteristically did not visibly react. "Saving your life," he said. "Again."
Understanding what must have happened, Kimihiro felt his cheeks warm. "Oh," he said lamely. There wasn't really much more he could say to that.
There was a long, awkward silence in which Shizuka typically did not make any indication of thinking or feeling anything, and Kimihiro's mind raced for a safe topic of thought or preferably conversation. "Where are we?" he finally decided upon.
"I don't know," replied Shizuka. "The first land I found."
"How are we going to get back, then?"
The selkie eyed Kimihiro pensively. "Do you want to go back?"
"I…" Kimihiro trailed off. For a while, he had been only too happy to leave the village of people who really did not notice him much. But he'd had a comfortable home there, despite all apparent flaws - and the pharmacist was kind, if absentminded. People weren't cruel. They may not have paid him much heed, but they had never done him harm. Kimihiro didn't really want adventure, didn't want to go seek his fortune in strange places. He could definitely be happy back in that fishing village from whence he'd come. "Yes," he said. "I want to go back."
To his profound shock, Shizuka smiled slightly. It was strange, Kimihiro thought, how such a small gesture changed the whole of his face, making the selkie look almost friendly - almost, dare he think it, good-looking. "It shouldn't be far," Shizuka said.
"By the way," Kimihiro added, as they began walking, "This is yours, right?" He pulled from its resting place the sealskin hat, a rather sad affair after so many years of wearing it. But for the expression on Shizuka's face - a second smile! - it might have been the most beautiful hat in the world.
"It's mine," the selkie replied.
--
Two days of unhurried walking later, they crested a hill and found themselves looking down upon the village. Nothing seemed to have changed since that stormy night only days ago - except that since today was fairly sunny, laundry flapped in the sea breeze outside of nearly every home. For a while Kimihiro watched the villagers going about their daily tasks with a feeling of great contentment. Then he grinned broadly and started his way down the hill, gesturing blindly behind him for Shizuka to follow.
He waved merrily at the shepherds as he passed them in the fields, and those few who noticed stared as if seeing the dead. But that could not leave a mark on his sunny mood - and nor could the dumbfounded exclamation of the smith as Kimihiro all but skipped into the village and past his forge.
"Where've you been?" demanded the smith's wife, nearly dropping her laundry basket. "We all thought you drowned!"
Kimihiro laughed. "Almost," he said. "If not for Shizuka…" He turned around, and trailed off when he realised that there was nobody there. Shizuka had vanished.
The smith's wife was gazing sadly toward the sea. "We found the wreckage of his boat," she said. "He's with his family once more, the poor souls. But he saved you?"
"Yeah," Kimihiro replied, also looking to the sea. He fancied he could see a seal out in the waves, but it disappeared before he could be sure. "He must be joining them now."
Several weeks passed, and Kimihiro easily slipped back into village life. A few things had changed, though, not least of all being that people were paying him attention. Perhaps they always had, and simply hadn't taken the time to let him know. But in the weeks after his return, he began seeking others out, and found that the people of the town were more than happy to oblige him by spending time with him. He befriended the cheerful Himawari and spent much of his free time with her on picnics. He thought, most of the time, that he'd never been quite so pleased with his life.
But every few nights found him on the harbor wall with a lantern, watching the waves crash below. It wasn't that he missed anyone, or that he wanted to go back out to sea ever again, but… he did hope that Shizuka had made it to his home safely. Wherever that happened to be.
He was not expecting that one day a sodden head of hair would emerge from below, or that Shizuka would climb up the wall to make inscrutable faces at him. "What are you doing out here?" the selkie asked.
"What am I -” Kimihiro sputtered, staring. "What about you?!"
Shizuka shrugged. "You can't be trusted to keep yourself out of trouble."
"I've been doing fine, thank you very much!" Kimihiro snapped. He'd forgotten just how irritating the selkie could be sometimes - well, a lot of the time. But all the same, it was nice to see him again. In a calmer tone, he added, "Are you just visiting?"
"I went back to see my clan," Shizuka replied. "I've seen them. I live here."
Kimihiro blinked. "But - all the legends - your kind always returns to the sea…"
"When we're kept against our will," Shizuka replied, shrugging. "No one's keeping me here now."
That made sense, Kimihiro supposed. He digested this for a while, looking back out at the ocean. A few cracks of moonlight showed through the clouds, though they would soon be gone. Another storm was coming in. "I'm getting off the wall," he said, yet wary of the sea in a storm. "I suppose you should come with me. Everyone thinks you're dead, by the way."
Shizuka's answer was to follow him down the stone steps and back toward the town. "They can't always be right," he remarked, and Kimihiro, had he looked backwards, might have seen another unexpected smile.
I forgot to post this here, but. Written for dimension_shop's third challenge: AU. Written for chibineko.
Title: Beneath the Waves
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Wordcount: 5,215
Summary: In a small coastal village, a boy is stolen away by the sea.
In a coastal village to the north lived a young fisherman by the name of Shizuka. He was a rather solitary man, spending most of his time out to sea with only the gulls and the fish. Some people said that he spoke to them, and well he might have. But it was not uncommon to speak to animals, and as far as he or any of the villagers knew, they never replied. This certainly was no concern of Shizuka's; his main interest was in the catching of fish.
He was very good at catching fish.
It was whispered sometimes among the women at market, or the men drinking in pubs, or the children playing on the beach, that Shizuka's luck was not natural. Some claimed that he was a favorite of the sea gods, while others theorised that he was not human - a selkie, perhaps, or some other fey of the seas. Some whispered that he had made a deal with the devil, exchanged something of value - perhaps the lives of his parents and grandfather, lost at sea years ago when Shizuka had been but a young child.
Shizuka did not seem to know of these things that were said about him. He sold his fish for a fair price and spoke courteously, if seldom, to those who did business with him. And so despite what was whispered, no one really took offense to him or really paid close attention to what he did in those hours he did not spend out to sea.
--
In that same village also lived a boy who worked for the apothecary. His name, if anyone had cared to remember it, was Kimihiro, and he was of absolutely no importance whatsoever.
He had turned up on the apothecary's doorstep as a baby, and there had never been any indication of his origins. His fair skin hinted that there might be nobility somewhere in his lineage, but no one really cared enough to investigate. Of possessions, he had one: a fur cap that the apothecary had made for him of a sealskin washed ashore, too drab too be noticed but not of poor enough quality to stand out. And so he had grown up with generally no attention from the townsfolk - no conflicts, but no regard either.
If they had paid him more notice, they might have observed that he was often skittish, and jumped at things that no one else saw. If they had sought his assistance, they might have discovered that he was eager to please and always willing to give something of his time or himself to anyone who needed it. But they never did, and he never presented himself, and so the rift between the boy and the village only grew with the passage of time.
--
One night, a storm blew in.
Shizuka was sitting by the window with a mug of tea, staring out at the breakwater and the wild waves beyond, thinking deep thoughts. And while he was no expecting it, he was not particularly surprised when a large swell eventually crossed the breakwater to toss the boats tied within the harbour.
He was surprised when the wave did not stop there, but crept up the street against every force of nature that ought to have held it back. Eyes narrowing, Shizuka watched it climb the hill, slinking past doors and around corners. The wind that followed banged shutters shut and upset unsecured items that lined the streets, sending them downhill into the sea. Eventually the climbing wave disappeared from view, but Shizuka continued to watch the water rise and fall, churn angrily against the breakwater. He searched for patterns and perhaps a message in the waves, but whatever he saw there did not answer the questions that beat against his skull.
He fell asleep there, in the chair by the window, and in the morning he was woken by brusque rapping on his door. Unbolting the door and drawing it open, he found himself face-to-face with a small mob.
"Did you or did you not summon the sea?" demanded one woman; whom Shizuka recognised vaguely as the smith's wife. She regularly bought his wares.
"I summoned nothing," Shizuka replied.
The headman squeezed his way from amidst the small crowd. "We are not seeking to place blame," he said tiredly, without glancing at the smith's wife. "It is just that the apothecary's assistant has gone missing, and last night's storm was anything but natural. Might you know what happened?"
Shizuka considered, slowly retracing his memories of the night previous for occurrences that he recognised. "I don't," he said at last, troubled. This was almost the truth. He didn't know what had happened. But his guess was probably close to the truth, much as he would have liked it to be otherwise. For Shizuka knew that if he was right, there would be no saving the unfortunate boy.
Or rather, the saving would be such a slim chance against such great odds as to be nigh impossible.
"He didn't take shelter somewhere else?" Shizuka asked, not wanting to arrive at any conclusions until he had ruled out all others.
"We are searching now," replied the headman. The crowd behind him seemed to find this the appropriate time to disperse and return to whatever tasks they had originally been undertaking. "Several of the fishermen intend to take their boats out to search for him once they have bailed and made the necessary repairs after last night."
"I wish them luck," Shizuka said, and nodded once to the headman before disappearing inside. There he sat for a long time, turning a scrap of fur over and over in his hands and thinking much in the same vein as he had the night before. His thoughts did not comfort him, or make the day seem any less ominous than it had felt earlier.
He watched from the window as one by one the other boat-owners sailed through the harbor mouth, and observed with little surprise as another storm blew up later that afternoon, pushing them back into the safety of the harbour. Then Shizuka did descend from his home to help tie up the boats, and to hear what he already knew - that further search attempts were impossible in this weather. That the unfortunate apothecary's assistant was doubtlessly lost to sea.
As the afternoon approached evening, the people of the town dejectedly returned to their usual business, save for Shizuka, who still waited by the docks. He knew exactly where the missing boy probably was, and he didn't like the thought of it at all.
Nonetheless, he donned the waterproof oilcloth and began untying his small boat. No one else would have known where to go. It was common sense that he go instead, personal investment aside. He didn't really know the missing boy that well, but Shizuka barely knew anyone beyond a nod in the street. But he'd paid attention to Kimihiro the apothecary's assistant because the boy was interesting. And if he wasn't much mistaken…
…well, he probably hadn't been the only one to make that observation.
Shizuka was just about to cast off when one of the townspeople came running after him, waving madly. As she approached, Shizuka recognised her as Himawari, the priest's eldest daughter. She was nice. There was not much to her that particularly stood out to Shizuka, but she was kind, benevolent. Right now she looked concerned.
"You're going out into the storm?" she asked, breathing heavily as she ran down the pier. "To look for Kimihiro?"
Shizuka nodded, pausing in his preparations.
She didn't say anything about the awful weather, though she glanced warily out to the open sea and probably thought of it. "Please bring him back," she murmured. "Wherever he is now, it's not good, is it?"
If Shizuka had been someone else, he might have spared her and said he did not know, or that it was not so bad as that. But he only nodded again. "It's not good." His voice was steady, distant, and Himawari felt herself shiver a bit in a way that was not from the cold of the stormy air. She knew then, also, that she was not welcome in this storm.
"Good luck," she said, and then ran back to the safety of the town. Then she turned around and watched as Shizuka pushed off from the quay and sailed into the storm beyond the harbour wall, nets trailing behind in the water like a lady's train.
The sea raged against his boat as if enraged that he dare sail against it, and despite the oilcloth Shizuka was soon soaked. The wind spat torrents of rain at him, and the sea crashed into his boat on all sides until it seemed as if the hull could take no more, and the wood creaked ominously. But it continued to hold together, as Shizuka steered as best he could toward the open ocean, away from the rock of the shore. From where he floated he could scarcely make out the beam of light from the lighthouse on the bluff, and he steered away from that.
The further he sailed, the greater the storm grew, until he could no longer direct the path he took. Wave after wave smashed against the boat, growing larger and larger - and then at last a great wave towered for a moment above the doomed craft before crashing down, splintering her and flinging Shizuka into the sea to surely drown.
But Shizuka took a deep breath, and when he hit the water and went under he swam with all his might toward the ocean floor. It was a fool's errand, he knew, but no one else could possibly have saved Kimihiro.
--
The boy called Kimihiro had not expected anything that had happened, but after being roughly plucked from the apothecary's doorway and plunged through icy water to the bottom of the sea, he had definitely not expected the warm welcome he had received. He had been set down lightly in a brilliantly-lit garden and found that not only could he breathe as if he were above the surface, but that the water around him was warm. He had not had much time to marvel at this, for a throng of colourful people emerged from unseen places to exclaim over him.
"He's here!" they cried, and then they had lifted him and bore him away, through the undersea garden and into what must have been a city. But such a city, Kimihiro had never before seen - homes were cut into the rock itself, while the seabed was thick with seaweed of every hue of green. How such a place could exist in the cold northern sea, Kimihiro did not know.
He was carried above the seaweed and then into another garden in a nook in the rock. There the throng had set him down before a tall man in flowing green robes that completely obscured his lower torso and legs. He smirked dazzlingly at his captive. "Welcome, Kimihiro," the man said.
"Where - what is this place?" Kimihiro asked, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second in the face of such splendour.
"This is my garden," the man replied. "These are my subjects. This place is your new home." He spoke genially, but his tone did not offer room for objection. Kimihiro swallowed and did not attempt to do so. "You are ours now."
--
Several hours later and in the seaweed below, Shizuka made his winding way into the city, catching his breath. He did not know how it was that he was breathing easily now, but he did not waste the opportunity - he was certain that the inhabitants of this city, should they learn of his presence, would not extend a warm welcome. In fact, they would not likely suffer his presence there long at all. But he had no choice.
Or rather, he had no other choice if he was going to save Kimihiro. And he was going to save Kimihiro.
He followed the road and listened for the slow sounds of underwater speech. It was by enchantment that speech could be understood here, that breath could be taken from the sea, but this enchantment could not change the inherent nature of water. Everything was slower in water - sound, movement, thought. Shizuka knew the trap of deep sea peace all too well. Move too quickly and the sea itself would fight back. But the slowness necessary was exactly what gave the people here their power.
And now they had Kimihiro in their grasp. For now he would be safe, but the interest of the fey never lasted for long. Soon enough they would tire of their pet human. Soon enough, they would cast out the old for the new. And Shizuka would not let this happen.
He had seen many people, drowning in the blue, be sucked down below into the glittering cities of the deep-sea fey. And always after the next storm, their bodies would drift ashore. Abandoned. There was a price for the beauty below.
Shizuka continued to walk.
This city he knew better than other such, which was lucky - but not necessarily the good kind of luck. It did mean that he knew where he was going, and it meant that he could make his way to the rooms where human visitors - human prisoners - were kept.
It did not take long to find Kimihiro, once inside. The boy was in the process of being groomed by two children of blue and pink hair. They both glanced to the door when Shizuka stopped, and smiled falsely at him. "This is not your place," they chorused.
Kimihiro turned with a start. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I followed you," said Shizuka.
"But why?"
Glancing once at the two children, who gazed imperiously back and did not move, Shizuka leaned against the doorframe. "To bring you back."
Kimihiro glared then at him with a fury that Shizuka could not have predicted. "Bring me back? It's not your choice! I don't know why you even bothered coming after me, but I'm not going back, and you won't make me. They treat me better down here than anyone ever did back there!"
Without an expression, Shizuka merely watched. He did not reply, even when the glare on the boy's face might have indicated that a response was desired. And this seemed to anger Kimihiro further, until he gave up on a reply so that he could properly voice his rage.
"Down here, people admire me! I have use! What's even the point of me living back in the village? No one notices! Why did you even bother?" His voice grew in volume as he spoke, as if trying to push Shizuka away with the force of his words.
"You have something of mine," Shizuka replied, staring pointedly at the pile of discarded human clothes on the floor, now replaced by cloth better suited to the sea. Kimihiro's gaze followed, and then snapped back.
"Nothing here is yours!" he yelled.
Shizuka reverted his gaze to the boy's face and did not say anything more for a long time.
"I'll stay," he said eventually.
Kimihiro stared. "You'll what?"
"I'll stay."
"You won't!"
There was no argument in Shizuka's face, only simple resolution. "It's not your decision. I'm staying." With one last glance to the pile of clothes, he turned and half-walked, half-swam out.
--
Maru and Moro - the attendants that the king had given Kimihiro, both of whom had disappeared sometime during the argument - reappeared soon after the unexpected guest had left. They told him in their disconcerting unison that there was a meal in the king's garden and that Kimihiro was requested to attend, and then whisked him off before he could agree.
The king was already seated there with his court, and smirked at Kimihiro as the boy was escorted to a vacant place next to him. "We have an esteemed guest here tonight, all the way from the surface. It is his doing that we have such a feast tonight. I promised him a trifle; you should stay to see it."
Kimihiro glanced around in sudden horrible realisation. Sure enough, to the king's other side was Shizuka the fisherman. He did not make any indication of recognising the other human, but merely inclined his head in an indifferent greeting. So that was how it would proceed. Kimihiro could ignore him just as easily, and irritably he began to do just that.
The meal took far more time than Kimihiro could stand, especially with the added difficulty of ignoring Shizuka. This was difficult because the fisherman insisted upon talking to the King - or rather, the King spoke to the fisherman, who replied almost monosyllabically. Kimihiro was not entirely sure how the King did not find this terribly annoying. Perhaps, to a being like him, these things were too trivial to be worth becoming upset.
Once the feast had ended, the King sat back against his throne and surveyed his most recent guest. "You have fed us very well," he said. "You must allow me to repay you. Name a gift, and I will give it to you."
Shizuka glanced very briefly toward Kimihiro, and then back at the King. "I don't know," he said clearly.
The King assumed an expression of amused surprise. "What do you mean by that?"
"You can't give me what I want," Shizuka replied. "And anything else would be worthless."
All the amusement drained from the King's face, to be replaced by the beginnings of anger. "You insult me," he said warningly. "My hospitality is not unconditional, fisherman."
Shizuka did not respond in speech, but the implacable expression upon his visage spoke quite clearly for his reaction. This wasn't going well, and even though Kimihiro was more than annoyed with his would-be rescuer, he didn't want anyone getting hurt. Especially not someone who'd cared enough to come looking for him. "Can we work this out?" he asked, trying to sound as polite as he could.
All faces turned toward him as if they had only just seen him, and the King slowly smiled again. "What would you have us do?" he inquired lazily. "What gift should I give to this… impudent guest?"
That had not been part of the plan, and now Kimihiro stammered as he cast about for an appropriate reply. "I - I'm not sure, Your, um, Majesty," he said. "I'm not familiar with the, um, bounties of your realm."
For a moment no one spoke, and then the King's smile widened but a fraction of an inch. "Very well, then," he said. "I'll have to provide him with an equal gift. For the feast he provided us - we'll feed him equally." He turned his smile upon the rest of the court, all of whom mirrored it. Kimihiro couldn't place it, but there was something vaguely unnerving about the smile he saw repeated around the garden, as if he were on the receiving end of a joke that he hadn't caught.
Then he happened to catch a glimpse of Shizuka's face - and found it not to be completely unreadable, but displaying a shocking amount of alarm. The fisherman stood suddenly, schooling his expression to inscrutable once more. "I'll take the boy," he said steadily.
"Pardon?" replied the King. "You did not know your mind before."
"I'm not interested in food," Shizuka said bluntly. "Keep it for yourselves. I'll take the boy as repayment."
Angrily, Kimihiro stood as well. "I told you, you're not -”
The sudden reappearance of emotion on Shizuka's face cut him off. "They're going to kill you," the fisherman told him. "I don't eat humans. Especially not you."
Dumbfounded, Kimihiro could not formulate a response - and then suddenly the garden was surrounded by merfolk wielding sharp spears. The message was clear: no one would leave until the King allowed it.
"The entertainment value has worn off," rumbled the King. "Human, I would say to learn your place, but it's too late for that!" He rose from his seat, and with one fluid and rapid motion tossed Shizuka into the center of the garden. "As for you - the charade is over! Show us your real form, fisherman."
But Shizuka merely straightened where he had landed. "I can't," he stated, gaze once more turning to Kimihiro. This time, the eyes of the entire court followed suit. Suddenly he remembered the fur hat he'd been carrying. It had only foolish sentimental value, being a gift from the apothecary who had raised him. He'd always had it with him since - and it had come with him to the kingdom of the merfolk. In fact, it was with him now.
It was made of sealskin. And Kimihiro had a feeling he knew who had previously worn it.
This made a lot of sense. There was really no reason for Shizuka to have taken an interest in him in the first place, if not for the hat. And why should he have followed Kimihiro all the way to the bottom of the sea? The life of a human he knew only in passing seemed a silly objective. The claiming of part of his selkie skin was an entirely different story. Somehow, this was comforting.
He pushed off from where he sat, floating toward where Shizuka stood. "Is that why you followed me?" he asked.
Shizuka did not look directly at him, instead scanning the garden around them as if waiting for an attack. "I can't save every human they bring down here," he said quietly. "And as I am, I can't save my clansmen who die here. But I can save you."
The King glowered at them from his throne. "Selkie," he spat. "I bested your chief in combat. You cannot hope to win against me."
"You seduced him," Shizuka replied. "He's still protesting," he added in an undertone, and despite the situation Kimihiro had to bottle a slightly hysterical laugh.
"He had better taste than some others of his kind," the King growled. "You'd know all about that, though. Pity you'll never make it out of here alive. I'd like to see the scorn you're received with once your beloved clan learns of your actions here."
But Shizuka merely planted his feet firmly on the seabed, grabbing and clenching Kimihiro's arm as he did so. "Hold your breath," he said, and then as the spear-wielders came charging forward, he pushed off and both shot up into the suddenly frigid ocean water.
Without the enchantment of the merfolk's city, the cold pressed all around Kimihiro, benumbing his fingers and feet. He could not see through the salt water that now burned his eyes, so he shut them and tried to hold on to the arm that still gripped him like a vise. His chest felt tight, overfull; and when he released his breath it ached to refill. But he could not take another breath without choking and drowning, and so he stubbornly held it as his lungs protested and his pulse beat loudly in his ears. The rushing of liquid grew faint, the cold not so noticeable, as if he were no longer connected to his body but by a lingering sense of possession.
Chancing the stinging of salt once more, Kimihiro opened his eyes and looked up, struggling to maintain consciousness. Light played above at the surface somewhere, but he couldn't tell how far away this was. Still they traveled upwards - Shizuka for all his other faults seemed to be a strong swimmer. He must also have had larger lungs, for he had not yet faltered.
But Kimihiro was not so lucky, and eventually he could not keep himself conscious any longer. Chest burning, head squeezing, he blacked out.
--
Shizuka felt it when the other went limp, and swam all the faster for it. If he had been able to assume his proper form, this would have been no trouble at all for him, but even shaped as a human he still had the athleticism of a seal. Even so, would it be enough?
After what seemed like eternity, the surface loomed ahead, and with one last kick he powered through, into the bitterly cold air above. The shore was not too far off, and once he had caught his breath he swam there, pulling the unconscious Kimihiro behind him.
He climbed out onto the land, dripping with seawater and shivering, and instantly turned his attention to the boy he'd saved - or tried to. When Kimihiro had blacked out, Shizuka had been able to support him through the power he had partially retained from the part of his skin that he still possessed. But once on land, that power had faded - and the boy wasn't breathing.
Trying to ignore the cliché of it all, Shizuka knelt in the sand next to him and placed both hands on Kimihiro's chest, which did not rise or fall. Fortunately for all concerned, he did know what to do.
--
For a moment Kimihiro wondered if he were dreaming, but as he regained coherence in his thinking, he realised that he was lying on sand and extremely cold, and that he must have survived the swim after all. After a few seconds more he finally noticed Shizuka next to him, and sat up in surprise.
"What are you doing, looming over me like that?!" he demanded, willing the adrenaline rush to subside.
Shizuka characteristically did not visibly react. "Saving your life," he said. "Again."
Understanding what must have happened, Kimihiro felt his cheeks warm. "Oh," he said lamely. There wasn't really much more he could say to that.
There was a long, awkward silence in which Shizuka typically did not make any indication of thinking or feeling anything, and Kimihiro's mind raced for a safe topic of thought or preferably conversation. "Where are we?" he finally decided upon.
"I don't know," replied Shizuka. "The first land I found."
"How are we going to get back, then?"
The selkie eyed Kimihiro pensively. "Do you want to go back?"
"I…" Kimihiro trailed off. For a while, he had been only too happy to leave the village of people who really did not notice him much. But he'd had a comfortable home there, despite all apparent flaws - and the pharmacist was kind, if absentminded. People weren't cruel. They may not have paid him much heed, but they had never done him harm. Kimihiro didn't really want adventure, didn't want to go seek his fortune in strange places. He could definitely be happy back in that fishing village from whence he'd come. "Yes," he said. "I want to go back."
To his profound shock, Shizuka smiled slightly. It was strange, Kimihiro thought, how such a small gesture changed the whole of his face, making the selkie look almost friendly - almost, dare he think it, good-looking. "It shouldn't be far," Shizuka said.
"By the way," Kimihiro added, as they began walking, "This is yours, right?" He pulled from its resting place the sealskin hat, a rather sad affair after so many years of wearing it. But for the expression on Shizuka's face - a second smile! - it might have been the most beautiful hat in the world.
"It's mine," the selkie replied.
--
Two days of unhurried walking later, they crested a hill and found themselves looking down upon the village. Nothing seemed to have changed since that stormy night only days ago - except that since today was fairly sunny, laundry flapped in the sea breeze outside of nearly every home. For a while Kimihiro watched the villagers going about their daily tasks with a feeling of great contentment. Then he grinned broadly and started his way down the hill, gesturing blindly behind him for Shizuka to follow.
He waved merrily at the shepherds as he passed them in the fields, and those few who noticed stared as if seeing the dead. But that could not leave a mark on his sunny mood - and nor could the dumbfounded exclamation of the smith as Kimihiro all but skipped into the village and past his forge.
"Where've you been?" demanded the smith's wife, nearly dropping her laundry basket. "We all thought you drowned!"
Kimihiro laughed. "Almost," he said. "If not for Shizuka…" He turned around, and trailed off when he realised that there was nobody there. Shizuka had vanished.
The smith's wife was gazing sadly toward the sea. "We found the wreckage of his boat," she said. "He's with his family once more, the poor souls. But he saved you?"
"Yeah," Kimihiro replied, also looking to the sea. He fancied he could see a seal out in the waves, but it disappeared before he could be sure. "He must be joining them now."
Several weeks passed, and Kimihiro easily slipped back into village life. A few things had changed, though, not least of all being that people were paying him attention. Perhaps they always had, and simply hadn't taken the time to let him know. But in the weeks after his return, he began seeking others out, and found that the people of the town were more than happy to oblige him by spending time with him. He befriended the cheerful Himawari and spent much of his free time with her on picnics. He thought, most of the time, that he'd never been quite so pleased with his life.
But every few nights found him on the harbor wall with a lantern, watching the waves crash below. It wasn't that he missed anyone, or that he wanted to go back out to sea ever again, but… he did hope that Shizuka had made it to his home safely. Wherever that happened to be.
He was not expecting that one day a sodden head of hair would emerge from below, or that Shizuka would climb up the wall to make inscrutable faces at him. "What are you doing out here?" the selkie asked.
"What am I -” Kimihiro sputtered, staring. "What about you?!"
Shizuka shrugged. "You can't be trusted to keep yourself out of trouble."
"I've been doing fine, thank you very much!" Kimihiro snapped. He'd forgotten just how irritating the selkie could be sometimes - well, a lot of the time. But all the same, it was nice to see him again. In a calmer tone, he added, "Are you just visiting?"
"I went back to see my clan," Shizuka replied. "I've seen them. I live here."
Kimihiro blinked. "But - all the legends - your kind always returns to the sea…"
"When we're kept against our will," Shizuka replied, shrugging. "No one's keeping me here now."
That made sense, Kimihiro supposed. He digested this for a while, looking back out at the ocean. A few cracks of moonlight showed through the clouds, though they would soon be gone. Another storm was coming in. "I'm getting off the wall," he said, yet wary of the sea in a storm. "I suppose you should come with me. Everyone thinks you're dead, by the way."
Shizuka's answer was to follow him down the stone steps and back toward the town. "They can't always be right," he remarked, and Kimihiro, had he looked backwards, might have seen another unexpected smile.