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writtentofreedomSummary: The Sea is a dirty backstabber, and the crew of The Sargas find their dreams all turning into stardust at the hands of fate.
Tags: Algeki, Sakuya/Hijiri, minor Yuri/Sakuya, Merfolk au, pirate au, angst, character death
Word count: 3k
Unbeta'd.
Finish date: 3/6/18
Can also be read on AO3 here!
---
Sakuya remembers salt on his tongue and water in his lungs, Ritsu’s splashing and crying of his name before going silent from a stray driftwood to the head. He remembers panic as he desperately swam over, clinging to Ritsu’s body and trying to keep them both afloat as he searched for land, for any kind of relief. Yuri’s head could barely stay above water, loudly gasping as he struggled, hair blending into the whites of the fuming waves.
Then the darkness pulled back, and he was on an island, sand on his face, Yuri and Ritsu nowhere in sight when he scrambled to his feet, Mikado limping over and nearly falling onto him. The two of them had found Hijiri a few days later; he claimed he was alright, but the way he huddled between them, trembling against the nightly seabreeze, spoke differently. They stayed on the island for a couple more days, sharing body heat during the night and distributing what little they had of food and water during the day, and each day found them more frustrated than before at their uselessness in every part of this predicament.
Mikado had spotted the ship first, a black form in the distance. By the time it reached shore, all three of them had made themselves scarce, watching from hiding as the pirates climbed down and explored. He and Hijiri had managed to convince Mikado that this was the chance they needed to get off the island, and they listened and planned for their escape. It was a stupid plan, he knows now, but they were desperate and hopeful and just as stupid.
The expected came, and they were caught, Hijiri immediately knocking the guy down and snatching his scabbard, but not before his cry alerted the other pirates. Sakuya had been ready to die since the moment the guy noticed them, so he didn’t blink when Mikado leaned down and whispered a new plan. As soon as one pirate fell back, he grabbed Hijiri’s arm and pulled, both of them narrowly escaping the blade of the second pirate. Hijiri had protested as Sakuya wrestled the sword from him, but then Mikado’s dragging him away, leaving Sakuya alone to fend off the gang.
The first cut came just as anchor had been weighed and sails were raised. The pirates looked up immediately at the movement from the ship, and then Sakuya was fighting tooth and nail to keep them distracted, praying to every deity he didn’t believe in that Hijiri and Mikado could somehow get the ship into open water with just their pathetic two-man crew. He heard Hijiri’s shout and had turned to look, and the fuckers took the advantage, multiple blades slicing right through him. Sand on his face and waves lapping at his torn apart body, he fell back into darkness.
“The Sea became fond of you, so she blessed you,” the mermaids explain to him. He huffs, ruffling his feathers as they giggled and swam off. The Sea responded to my crimes and brought down my punishment, he thinks, watching the birds fly off with wings born just for them. His wings are stupid and unnatural, big and bulky and chaining him down to this godforsaken island.
The sky is a deep red when the ship appears, right at the edge of the horizon. He steels himself, talons digging into rock, and takes in a deep breath before beginning to sing. The words come to him as he sings, stringing together to form a story of longing, a thread for these poor sailors to take.
Except they don’t.
The shadow continues along in the distance, and panic begins building in Sakuya, welling up in his stomach and staining his notes a red as violent as the setting sun. The tune drags on into something sorrowful and dangerous, and he feels his toes numbing as he pushes, until finally he sees the ship changing direction. His song changes along with it, into a cheerful, playful melody that urges these sailors to come forward, to come quickly.
They manage to stay alive for a few days, the strong, fierce sailors that they are, although still only human. It’s a shame, Sakuya muses as he licks his lips, the sweetness of human desire on his tongue. These men all dreamt big, dreaming of heading to far-off lands and achieving impossible feats for the sake of their loved ones, a delicacy compared to the usual brute dreams of fame, fortune, and women.
The regret sets in moments after the last one drops dead at his feet, regret at having taken all these nice wants and hopes from those who most likely didn’t deserve such an ending. It lasts for only a second, the memories of his own crew wiping any guilt away. Ritsu had wanted to take after his father in traveling the highseas, still so pure despite the side of sea law he found himself in. Yuri, a curious thing from a gentle house, had wanted to explore and thought the idea of being kidnapped by pirates to be so absolutely quaint even after Hijiri insisted that it’s not kidnapping if Yuri came willingly. Mikado, who said little of himself in favor of lending an ear to the rest of them, had told Yuri one night under the stars that his father had been something infamous in whatever country he had been from and that he wanted to get away from the Gokokuji name. Yuri had whispered his understanding, and Sakuya, covered in shadows, knew nothing about what life either of them led, understanding only that if either of them asked, he’d take their secrets to his grave. (None of them ever asked, but he did so anyways.)
Hijiri’s had come out in a rush, sweat drying on bedsheets and just a sliver of moonlight highlighting the wideness of his eyes and Sakuya’s pale hands on his shoulders. He whispered his sins, of parents brutally murdered in the night, of a killer’s neck under his fingers as he wrung breath and justice with his own hands before running away into the night. This, this was something that Sakuya could understand, and they wordlessly held each other that night.
His own past had been that of a streetrat, and he holds nothing from it, no faces and no trinkets. He had nothing of importance in those days, not even his own life. That was the past though, before Mikado had caught him trying to steal from the Gokokuji treasures with dreams of a week’s worth of meals in his eyes, caught him red-handed and pulled him in with a whisper that he should be dreaming bigger. The two of them had then made off with one of his father’s ships and enough supplies to last them for a bit, Mikado laughing at the wheel as Sakuya hollered into the wind of the insanity of the Gokokujis.
Their pasts were never important, not when Ritsu had come to him begging for a place on the ship, not when they found Hijiri stowed away in the cargo, hands shaking but head raised and defiant, and especially not now, their ship and hopes merely floating splinters in the waves. Their dreams hadn’t stood any chance in the world, so why should he care for those of strangers’? The world is cruel, and he of all people should’ve known and expected that, except that was before Ritsu had held his bloodstained hands with wonder, and Mikado had smiled warmly at him and offered him the home he never had.
He doesn’t regret taking that hand; he loved all of them dearly and appreciate what they gave him. He only regrets that their fate had come so soon, that it all had to end in such a way. Anger boils in his stomach and fuels his next song as he bellows his frustration at the next passing boat, anger at the irony and cruelty of The Sea, frustration at his solitary fate.
It takes a while for Ritsu to find him again. Ritsu cries pearls and hugs him, and he complains about sand and salt water in his feathers, smiling for the first time in so long. Ritsu tells him about Mikado’s new tiny house by the beach, about how he and Yuri sometimes visit him and chat, and Sakuya tries to curb the ugly jealousy clinging inside him like tar. The angry thoughts still bubble up. Do I not also deserve this warnth?
Ritsu had come for him though, and as infuriating as it is, he accepts it as better than nothing, and listens quietly to the stories as Ritsu feeds on the bodies of the last boat Sakuya had brought down. Ritsu then leaves with a promise to send Yuri down next time, and Sakuya watches the waves part, a little pink and purple tail glittering in the moonlight before fading into dark waters, and he thinks of Mikado standing out on a seaside cliff somewhere doing the same and feels a bit less alone.
True enough, the next time, Yuri swings by to share more of his and Ritsu’s adventures and feast on the corpses laying across the rocks. Sakuya drinks the tales in, a welcome distraction from the monotony of broken sailor dreams and and vapid merfolk chatter. He notices though that neither of them mention Hijiri.
Eventually, Ritsu caves. He explains how Mikado kept their promise and took care of Hijiri after the two of them had reached town, about how Hijiri had locked himself in one of Mikado’s rooms, eating and speaking minimally, before one day writing a letter and leaving, just as silent and sudden as he had been the day he joined them. None of them know where he is now. Sakuya stays silent long after Ritsu swims off.
He grudgingly accepts this new life of claiming sailors’ dreams for meals and watching Yuri and Ritsu consume the bodies as theirs. They tell him that Mikado is also sad that the two of them can’t talk anymore without needing the merfolk as their middlemen, how Mikado misses him so much and has made little graves for the three of them but can’t bring himself to make one for Hijiri, still earnestly, naively hoping him to be alive somewhere. Sakuya doubts none of this, keeping all these tidbits close to his heart and letting them fuel him through the days where only his own voice can be heard.
Ritsu and Yuri make requests sometimes. He grumbles, but he obliges; they’re the only two left who stick around and can still listen to his songs without dying, so he figures he owes them that much. They ask him for songs he used to sang back when they were human, when he’d idly hum and create lyrics as he worked. He tries his best to recall the songs for their sake, although he ends up creating new parts where he just can’t remember how the words or the tune goes. They probably noticed, but neither of them say anything about it, just the usual compliments.
Sakuya makes it clear that moping about the past is not permitted on his island (and it’s his island, because if he’s stuck there he mind as well lay his claim in true pirate fashion), and the two mermen humor him well enough. Sometimes, Ritsu runs out of recent stories and resorts to memories of his childhood with some cranky childhood friend of his. That’s alright. He tries to make sure Ritsu doesn’t get too emotional, but Ritsu’s always pretty emotional, so it doesn’t actually matter all that much.
Yuri doesn’t feel as much of a need to constantly fill the air with chatter; some of his visits are completely silent, just Sakuya trying to clean his wings and Yuri having a meal. It’s nice. What’s not nice is when Yuri’s in a mood and starts bringing up their old lives on the Sargas. He claims it’s not a mood, but Sakuya can see it in the way his eyes train on something far far off, the way his voice gets weighed down with the nostalgia.
“I can’t believe you’re going senile on me,” he grumbles, and usually that’s enough to pull them both out before Yuri gets too emotional and drags him down too. Yuri smiles then and apologizes before reminding Sakuya that their age difference is only by a few years.
The realization hits him during one of those times, and he has to ask, “Hey, is Mikado- is he still growing?”
Yuri seems surprised for a split-second before his face turns understanding. “He is. A slight bit slower than most normal humans, but he is.”
“Wait. What did you- is he not human anymore?”
As usual, Yuri continues on and ignores Sakuya’s remarks. “You, me, and Ritsu. We aren’t growing anymore, huh.” He smiles, but it’s a sad expression, and Sakuya curses himself for being the one to bring up the topic this time, so he doesn’t try asking again.
“I miss doing your hair,” Yuri tells him one night as they stare at stars. Sakuya brings his head down to look at Yuri, whose gaze hasn’t left the heavens. He’d tell the merman off, except it’s too late; there’s the faint imprint of fingertips against his scalp, thin fingers threading through his hair as they sit up on the hull, Sakuya humming and fiddling with a piece of rope as Yuri quietly separates knots and twisted his hair this way and that.
“You know perfectly well why we can’t do that now,” he says gruffly. It does nothing to get rid of the ghost feeling.
“I know,” Yuri replies, and is probably about to apologize when Sakuya swoops down to the rock lowest to the water and interrupts him.
“Fuck you, let me finish,” he says. The water splashes against his tail and legs, and he knows he’ll regret this later when he’s trying to get sand and pebbles out of those feathers, but this is important, damn it.
Yuri’s thankfully silent as he leans forward, balancing himself with his tail so he can grab hold of Yuri’s shoulders with both hands. “I can still do this though, and honestly I’m,” he pauses, but pushes onwards because hesitation is cowardice, “I’m glad you and Ritsu are still here despite everything.”
Yuri smiles, but does not move. He also doesn’t fucking listen to directions, as usual. “Somebody seems to be feeling sappy tonight. For once, it’s not me.”
“For once,” Sakuya grumbles, “Although it’s still your fault.” Yuri’s scales are cold and scrape against his fingers in a way his human skin never did, but Sakuya doesn’t let go, just moves his hands up to Yuri’s face, presses them against his cheeks like how he used to. They both close their eyes despite knowing he can’t move in for a kiss anymore.
“Thank you, Sakuya,” Yuri says and moves a hand up to place over Sakuya’s. He huffs, but doesn’t say anything. They stay like that until the dawn breaks and Yuri slips away.
“I found Hijiri,” is how Yuri greets him one afternoon, and he almost falls off his perch.
“Where was he?” he gets out, louder than he expected.
“Don’t tell Ritsu.” Yuri’s eyes are serious for once.
“Why not?”
“I saw him on a boat with Ritsu’s childhood friend,” Yuri explains. “Please breathe.”
“He- what’s he-” Sakuya knows his emotions are getting the better of him again, but he can’t help it. Ugly anger rears its head again as he tries to speak. “You don’t think he-”
“Sakuya, please breathe,” Yuri says again, so he stops to calm himself as Yuri continues. “He hasn’t forgotten us, and he’s not trying to. I’m not entirely sure why he’s with them either, but they were talking about Ritsu.”
“What’d they say?” He’s trying not to rush Yuri, but Yuri talks too slowly even on good days. Especially on good days.
“They’re looking for him. The childhood friend believes Ritsu to still be alive somehow.”
They’re both silent as Sakuya processes the information. He opens his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and shutting up again. Finally, he exhales loudly. “Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome,” Yuri says, and begins to leave before swimming back again. “Oh, another thing. They’re heading your way.” He flees before Sakuya can yell, leaving the siren with a mess of emotions to deal with on his own.
Their ship doesn’t appear for a while, leaving Sakuya plenty of time to sort himself out. His decision is made by the time they appear in the distance. What the hell is that, is his immediate thought, because that is the ugliest piece of wood on water Sakuya has ever seen in his life. He stays silent.
His mouth remains closed even as panic burns in his stomach. He gave his life for Hijiri once already, and he’s perfectly ready to do it once again, and for however many times he needs to to prove Hijiri his worth. To his surprise, however, the shape looming in the distance gets larger, sailing closer and closer until it reaches the mouth of the bay and a figure jumps right off and into the water.
“Sakuya!” Hijiri cries as he clumsily swims up to the rocks, and Sakuya is absolutely convinced the man’s gone mad. The ship is backing off, and his legs are starting to numb, but that doesn’t matter, not when Hijiri’s arms wrap around him and Hijiri’s lips push onto his own. There’s water all over his feathers, but Hijiri is kissing him.
He starts feeling faint and forces Hijiri off, grasping him by his shoulders. “What are you doing?” he demands. The feathers on his wings start coming apart, clumps falling off into the water behind him.
“I wanted to see you,” Hijiri says, and Sakuya thinks he understands.
“You stupid son of a bitch,” he says, because he understands, but he’s still so angry, so absolutely angry that Hijiri is throwing away so much, his life, their friends, everything, just to see him one last time. He’s so angry even though he knows Hijiri had been agonizing over this for years, probably feeling so guilty he couldn’t even stay in Mikado’s house.
“Sing for me again?” Hijiri asks, and Sakuya doesn’t have the heart to tell him off. He open his mouth, and let the notes fall, lets his emotions be ripped from him as his legs lose feeling entirely. It’s one of the songs he used to sing on The Sargas, he recognizes, but the desperation he sings with is new. He sings of rising and falling like a star, of a momentary glimpse of happiness and warmth, and Hijiri smiles at him through it all.
He keeps singing even as hands slip from Hijiri’s shoulders and his legs buckle, remaining standing only because of Hijiri’s arms around him. He keeps singing as the boat disappears in the distance and the bare skeleton of his wings crack and crumble in the wind. He sings as his vision darkens until all he can see is Hijri, can no longer hear anything but his own voice.
He finally falls silent when the last of his strength fades from him, the last of his feathers messily peeling off his arms. Satisfied? he wants to ask, but has no voice to anymore.
“Thank you,” Hijiri whispers against his tattered shoulder. The magic binding his cut up parts back into a body now reverses, whole pieces of his body dissolving into sand, and there’s pain, but he keeps his eyes on Hijiri, focuses on both the sweetness and the bitterness of Hijiri’s dreams, the savory taste of fulfillment in his final wish. Hijiri sits them both down in the tide, and the salt water stings so bad, but he closes his eyes and leans in, allows them both to fade out of this cruel world together. For once, he’s allowed to not be alone. He’ll take it.
---
Looking back on it, I actually really like this one. A bit sloppy, but it can't be helped seeing as I wrote it on an 18-hour plane flight. Still, it's a very nice first story for a fic series, I think /o/
This is part of my merfolks and sailors series, May That Brightest Star Guide You Home!
Tags: Algeki, Sakuya/Hijiri, minor Yuri/Sakuya, Merfolk au, pirate au, angst, character death
Word count: 3k
Unbeta'd.
Finish date: 3/6/18
Can also be read on AO3 here!
---
Sakuya remembers salt on his tongue and water in his lungs, Ritsu’s splashing and crying of his name before going silent from a stray driftwood to the head. He remembers panic as he desperately swam over, clinging to Ritsu’s body and trying to keep them both afloat as he searched for land, for any kind of relief. Yuri’s head could barely stay above water, loudly gasping as he struggled, hair blending into the whites of the fuming waves.
Then the darkness pulled back, and he was on an island, sand on his face, Yuri and Ritsu nowhere in sight when he scrambled to his feet, Mikado limping over and nearly falling onto him. The two of them had found Hijiri a few days later; he claimed he was alright, but the way he huddled between them, trembling against the nightly seabreeze, spoke differently. They stayed on the island for a couple more days, sharing body heat during the night and distributing what little they had of food and water during the day, and each day found them more frustrated than before at their uselessness in every part of this predicament.
Mikado had spotted the ship first, a black form in the distance. By the time it reached shore, all three of them had made themselves scarce, watching from hiding as the pirates climbed down and explored. He and Hijiri had managed to convince Mikado that this was the chance they needed to get off the island, and they listened and planned for their escape. It was a stupid plan, he knows now, but they were desperate and hopeful and just as stupid.
The expected came, and they were caught, Hijiri immediately knocking the guy down and snatching his scabbard, but not before his cry alerted the other pirates. Sakuya had been ready to die since the moment the guy noticed them, so he didn’t blink when Mikado leaned down and whispered a new plan. As soon as one pirate fell back, he grabbed Hijiri’s arm and pulled, both of them narrowly escaping the blade of the second pirate. Hijiri had protested as Sakuya wrestled the sword from him, but then Mikado’s dragging him away, leaving Sakuya alone to fend off the gang.
The first cut came just as anchor had been weighed and sails were raised. The pirates looked up immediately at the movement from the ship, and then Sakuya was fighting tooth and nail to keep them distracted, praying to every deity he didn’t believe in that Hijiri and Mikado could somehow get the ship into open water with just their pathetic two-man crew. He heard Hijiri’s shout and had turned to look, and the fuckers took the advantage, multiple blades slicing right through him. Sand on his face and waves lapping at his torn apart body, he fell back into darkness.
“The Sea became fond of you, so she blessed you,” the mermaids explain to him. He huffs, ruffling his feathers as they giggled and swam off. The Sea responded to my crimes and brought down my punishment, he thinks, watching the birds fly off with wings born just for them. His wings are stupid and unnatural, big and bulky and chaining him down to this godforsaken island.
The sky is a deep red when the ship appears, right at the edge of the horizon. He steels himself, talons digging into rock, and takes in a deep breath before beginning to sing. The words come to him as he sings, stringing together to form a story of longing, a thread for these poor sailors to take.
Except they don’t.
The shadow continues along in the distance, and panic begins building in Sakuya, welling up in his stomach and staining his notes a red as violent as the setting sun. The tune drags on into something sorrowful and dangerous, and he feels his toes numbing as he pushes, until finally he sees the ship changing direction. His song changes along with it, into a cheerful, playful melody that urges these sailors to come forward, to come quickly.
They manage to stay alive for a few days, the strong, fierce sailors that they are, although still only human. It’s a shame, Sakuya muses as he licks his lips, the sweetness of human desire on his tongue. These men all dreamt big, dreaming of heading to far-off lands and achieving impossible feats for the sake of their loved ones, a delicacy compared to the usual brute dreams of fame, fortune, and women.
The regret sets in moments after the last one drops dead at his feet, regret at having taken all these nice wants and hopes from those who most likely didn’t deserve such an ending. It lasts for only a second, the memories of his own crew wiping any guilt away. Ritsu had wanted to take after his father in traveling the highseas, still so pure despite the side of sea law he found himself in. Yuri, a curious thing from a gentle house, had wanted to explore and thought the idea of being kidnapped by pirates to be so absolutely quaint even after Hijiri insisted that it’s not kidnapping if Yuri came willingly. Mikado, who said little of himself in favor of lending an ear to the rest of them, had told Yuri one night under the stars that his father had been something infamous in whatever country he had been from and that he wanted to get away from the Gokokuji name. Yuri had whispered his understanding, and Sakuya, covered in shadows, knew nothing about what life either of them led, understanding only that if either of them asked, he’d take their secrets to his grave. (None of them ever asked, but he did so anyways.)
Hijiri’s had come out in a rush, sweat drying on bedsheets and just a sliver of moonlight highlighting the wideness of his eyes and Sakuya’s pale hands on his shoulders. He whispered his sins, of parents brutally murdered in the night, of a killer’s neck under his fingers as he wrung breath and justice with his own hands before running away into the night. This, this was something that Sakuya could understand, and they wordlessly held each other that night.
His own past had been that of a streetrat, and he holds nothing from it, no faces and no trinkets. He had nothing of importance in those days, not even his own life. That was the past though, before Mikado had caught him trying to steal from the Gokokuji treasures with dreams of a week’s worth of meals in his eyes, caught him red-handed and pulled him in with a whisper that he should be dreaming bigger. The two of them had then made off with one of his father’s ships and enough supplies to last them for a bit, Mikado laughing at the wheel as Sakuya hollered into the wind of the insanity of the Gokokujis.
Their pasts were never important, not when Ritsu had come to him begging for a place on the ship, not when they found Hijiri stowed away in the cargo, hands shaking but head raised and defiant, and especially not now, their ship and hopes merely floating splinters in the waves. Their dreams hadn’t stood any chance in the world, so why should he care for those of strangers’? The world is cruel, and he of all people should’ve known and expected that, except that was before Ritsu had held his bloodstained hands with wonder, and Mikado had smiled warmly at him and offered him the home he never had.
He doesn’t regret taking that hand; he loved all of them dearly and appreciate what they gave him. He only regrets that their fate had come so soon, that it all had to end in such a way. Anger boils in his stomach and fuels his next song as he bellows his frustration at the next passing boat, anger at the irony and cruelty of The Sea, frustration at his solitary fate.
It takes a while for Ritsu to find him again. Ritsu cries pearls and hugs him, and he complains about sand and salt water in his feathers, smiling for the first time in so long. Ritsu tells him about Mikado’s new tiny house by the beach, about how he and Yuri sometimes visit him and chat, and Sakuya tries to curb the ugly jealousy clinging inside him like tar. The angry thoughts still bubble up. Do I not also deserve this warnth?
Ritsu had come for him though, and as infuriating as it is, he accepts it as better than nothing, and listens quietly to the stories as Ritsu feeds on the bodies of the last boat Sakuya had brought down. Ritsu then leaves with a promise to send Yuri down next time, and Sakuya watches the waves part, a little pink and purple tail glittering in the moonlight before fading into dark waters, and he thinks of Mikado standing out on a seaside cliff somewhere doing the same and feels a bit less alone.
True enough, the next time, Yuri swings by to share more of his and Ritsu’s adventures and feast on the corpses laying across the rocks. Sakuya drinks the tales in, a welcome distraction from the monotony of broken sailor dreams and and vapid merfolk chatter. He notices though that neither of them mention Hijiri.
Eventually, Ritsu caves. He explains how Mikado kept their promise and took care of Hijiri after the two of them had reached town, about how Hijiri had locked himself in one of Mikado’s rooms, eating and speaking minimally, before one day writing a letter and leaving, just as silent and sudden as he had been the day he joined them. None of them know where he is now. Sakuya stays silent long after Ritsu swims off.
He grudgingly accepts this new life of claiming sailors’ dreams for meals and watching Yuri and Ritsu consume the bodies as theirs. They tell him that Mikado is also sad that the two of them can’t talk anymore without needing the merfolk as their middlemen, how Mikado misses him so much and has made little graves for the three of them but can’t bring himself to make one for Hijiri, still earnestly, naively hoping him to be alive somewhere. Sakuya doubts none of this, keeping all these tidbits close to his heart and letting them fuel him through the days where only his own voice can be heard.
Ritsu and Yuri make requests sometimes. He grumbles, but he obliges; they’re the only two left who stick around and can still listen to his songs without dying, so he figures he owes them that much. They ask him for songs he used to sang back when they were human, when he’d idly hum and create lyrics as he worked. He tries his best to recall the songs for their sake, although he ends up creating new parts where he just can’t remember how the words or the tune goes. They probably noticed, but neither of them say anything about it, just the usual compliments.
Sakuya makes it clear that moping about the past is not permitted on his island (and it’s his island, because if he’s stuck there he mind as well lay his claim in true pirate fashion), and the two mermen humor him well enough. Sometimes, Ritsu runs out of recent stories and resorts to memories of his childhood with some cranky childhood friend of his. That’s alright. He tries to make sure Ritsu doesn’t get too emotional, but Ritsu’s always pretty emotional, so it doesn’t actually matter all that much.
Yuri doesn’t feel as much of a need to constantly fill the air with chatter; some of his visits are completely silent, just Sakuya trying to clean his wings and Yuri having a meal. It’s nice. What’s not nice is when Yuri’s in a mood and starts bringing up their old lives on the Sargas. He claims it’s not a mood, but Sakuya can see it in the way his eyes train on something far far off, the way his voice gets weighed down with the nostalgia.
“I can’t believe you’re going senile on me,” he grumbles, and usually that’s enough to pull them both out before Yuri gets too emotional and drags him down too. Yuri smiles then and apologizes before reminding Sakuya that their age difference is only by a few years.
The realization hits him during one of those times, and he has to ask, “Hey, is Mikado- is he still growing?”
Yuri seems surprised for a split-second before his face turns understanding. “He is. A slight bit slower than most normal humans, but he is.”
“Wait. What did you- is he not human anymore?”
As usual, Yuri continues on and ignores Sakuya’s remarks. “You, me, and Ritsu. We aren’t growing anymore, huh.” He smiles, but it’s a sad expression, and Sakuya curses himself for being the one to bring up the topic this time, so he doesn’t try asking again.
“I miss doing your hair,” Yuri tells him one night as they stare at stars. Sakuya brings his head down to look at Yuri, whose gaze hasn’t left the heavens. He’d tell the merman off, except it’s too late; there’s the faint imprint of fingertips against his scalp, thin fingers threading through his hair as they sit up on the hull, Sakuya humming and fiddling with a piece of rope as Yuri quietly separates knots and twisted his hair this way and that.
“You know perfectly well why we can’t do that now,” he says gruffly. It does nothing to get rid of the ghost feeling.
“I know,” Yuri replies, and is probably about to apologize when Sakuya swoops down to the rock lowest to the water and interrupts him.
“Fuck you, let me finish,” he says. The water splashes against his tail and legs, and he knows he’ll regret this later when he’s trying to get sand and pebbles out of those feathers, but this is important, damn it.
Yuri’s thankfully silent as he leans forward, balancing himself with his tail so he can grab hold of Yuri’s shoulders with both hands. “I can still do this though, and honestly I’m,” he pauses, but pushes onwards because hesitation is cowardice, “I’m glad you and Ritsu are still here despite everything.”
Yuri smiles, but does not move. He also doesn’t fucking listen to directions, as usual. “Somebody seems to be feeling sappy tonight. For once, it’s not me.”
“For once,” Sakuya grumbles, “Although it’s still your fault.” Yuri’s scales are cold and scrape against his fingers in a way his human skin never did, but Sakuya doesn’t let go, just moves his hands up to Yuri’s face, presses them against his cheeks like how he used to. They both close their eyes despite knowing he can’t move in for a kiss anymore.
“Thank you, Sakuya,” Yuri says and moves a hand up to place over Sakuya’s. He huffs, but doesn’t say anything. They stay like that until the dawn breaks and Yuri slips away.
“I found Hijiri,” is how Yuri greets him one afternoon, and he almost falls off his perch.
“Where was he?” he gets out, louder than he expected.
“Don’t tell Ritsu.” Yuri’s eyes are serious for once.
“Why not?”
“I saw him on a boat with Ritsu’s childhood friend,” Yuri explains. “Please breathe.”
“He- what’s he-” Sakuya knows his emotions are getting the better of him again, but he can’t help it. Ugly anger rears its head again as he tries to speak. “You don’t think he-”
“Sakuya, please breathe,” Yuri says again, so he stops to calm himself as Yuri continues. “He hasn’t forgotten us, and he’s not trying to. I’m not entirely sure why he’s with them either, but they were talking about Ritsu.”
“What’d they say?” He’s trying not to rush Yuri, but Yuri talks too slowly even on good days. Especially on good days.
“They’re looking for him. The childhood friend believes Ritsu to still be alive somehow.”
They’re both silent as Sakuya processes the information. He opens his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and shutting up again. Finally, he exhales loudly. “Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome,” Yuri says, and begins to leave before swimming back again. “Oh, another thing. They’re heading your way.” He flees before Sakuya can yell, leaving the siren with a mess of emotions to deal with on his own.
Their ship doesn’t appear for a while, leaving Sakuya plenty of time to sort himself out. His decision is made by the time they appear in the distance. What the hell is that, is his immediate thought, because that is the ugliest piece of wood on water Sakuya has ever seen in his life. He stays silent.
His mouth remains closed even as panic burns in his stomach. He gave his life for Hijiri once already, and he’s perfectly ready to do it once again, and for however many times he needs to to prove Hijiri his worth. To his surprise, however, the shape looming in the distance gets larger, sailing closer and closer until it reaches the mouth of the bay and a figure jumps right off and into the water.
“Sakuya!” Hijiri cries as he clumsily swims up to the rocks, and Sakuya is absolutely convinced the man’s gone mad. The ship is backing off, and his legs are starting to numb, but that doesn’t matter, not when Hijiri’s arms wrap around him and Hijiri’s lips push onto his own. There’s water all over his feathers, but Hijiri is kissing him.
He starts feeling faint and forces Hijiri off, grasping him by his shoulders. “What are you doing?” he demands. The feathers on his wings start coming apart, clumps falling off into the water behind him.
“I wanted to see you,” Hijiri says, and Sakuya thinks he understands.
“You stupid son of a bitch,” he says, because he understands, but he’s still so angry, so absolutely angry that Hijiri is throwing away so much, his life, their friends, everything, just to see him one last time. He’s so angry even though he knows Hijiri had been agonizing over this for years, probably feeling so guilty he couldn’t even stay in Mikado’s house.
“Sing for me again?” Hijiri asks, and Sakuya doesn’t have the heart to tell him off. He open his mouth, and let the notes fall, lets his emotions be ripped from him as his legs lose feeling entirely. It’s one of the songs he used to sing on The Sargas, he recognizes, but the desperation he sings with is new. He sings of rising and falling like a star, of a momentary glimpse of happiness and warmth, and Hijiri smiles at him through it all.
He keeps singing even as hands slip from Hijiri’s shoulders and his legs buckle, remaining standing only because of Hijiri’s arms around him. He keeps singing as the boat disappears in the distance and the bare skeleton of his wings crack and crumble in the wind. He sings as his vision darkens until all he can see is Hijri, can no longer hear anything but his own voice.
He finally falls silent when the last of his strength fades from him, the last of his feathers messily peeling off his arms. Satisfied? he wants to ask, but has no voice to anymore.
“Thank you,” Hijiri whispers against his tattered shoulder. The magic binding his cut up parts back into a body now reverses, whole pieces of his body dissolving into sand, and there’s pain, but he keeps his eyes on Hijiri, focuses on both the sweetness and the bitterness of Hijiri’s dreams, the savory taste of fulfillment in his final wish. Hijiri sits them both down in the tide, and the salt water stings so bad, but he closes his eyes and leans in, allows them both to fade out of this cruel world together. For once, he’s allowed to not be alone. He’ll take it.
---
Looking back on it, I actually really like this one. A bit sloppy, but it can't be helped seeing as I wrote it on an 18-hour plane flight. Still, it's a very nice first story for a fic series, I think /o/
This is part of my merfolks and sailors series, May That Brightest Star Guide You Home!