Chapter Text
Dazai doesn’t remember how his life came to be.
One could say it was a long, long time ago when his eyes first opened to the world, but for him the passage of time means nothing. One could ask for his parents, as every living thing was a creation of two other, but he doesn’t have an answer.
Dazai only remembers existing.
One day, or maybe it was a night, he opened his eyes and moved through the waters. He knew what he was and what his name was, yet he didn’t understand it. He knew the depths were where his kind belonged, yet he has never met another siren. All life around him listened to his words – be it fish, or seagrass, or the waves themselves, be it a simple command or death – when he spoke, the waters obeyed. This was his world, yet there was not a part of it. There was something he could not obtain, something that was kept from him by Nature itself.
Death.
Dazai cannot die, for he was never born.
It was a fact he learnt quickly. The seas never changed, but all life would come to an end one day. All but his. He didn’t measure time as it wasn’t a concept known to his world, but he knew the cycles that everything followed – living creatures moved, ate, fell asleep and then repeated it all again until one day they never woke up. He saw it all around him many, many times, until it occurred to him: what was the purpose of his existence if he couldn’t die?
He knew how lives ended – living beings would ran out of energy or be fed upon by others to keep them alive. But it was different for him. He never changed, never grew old, so death wouldn’t came for him naturally. When he didn’t eat, there was no hunger to take him away and nothing in the seas viewed him as the prey to be hunted. The ways of his world didn’t favour his wish of reaching the ultimate purpose of life.
That was when he discovered the other world.
The first time he broke the boundary separating the depths from the air was, it was blinding and deafening. The shines that sparkled in water when you were beneath the surface were brighter there, and brought more warmth with them. The sound of waves wasn’t dull anymore, but loud and accompanied by a cacophony of different noises reaching him from far above.
It was new and, at that time, he didn’t know everything anymore.
So, he learnt.
He discovered what days and nights were, what the faraway blue was and why it changed into the darkness scattered by millions of small shines when the brightest one of them disappeared from the view. He came to know the Sun would give warmth and that there were times when the skies cried the same water that he lived in. He learnt about the land and its own creatures, so very different from the ones he knew—
Humans.
They were equally fascinating and simple in his eyes. They lived their lives the way other creature did – hunt the prey, eat its flesh, sleep the night away and repeat it every day until they die. But there was more to them. They used tools to hunt, not their hands or mouths, they always took it somewhere else and never ate right after killing, they made a lot of noise and their faces never stayed the same for long.
It took countless days and nights to understand the meaning behind their speech, but once he did, Dazai finally learnt that which he couldn’t before. They measured their lives with the concept of time. The land was never completely dark because of fire. Every human looked different because what he could see were clothes, not their skin. Their smiles meant happiness, cries – sadness. They lived in large groups, but remained separate at the same time…
And the ways of their world were countless.
Humans didn’t always wait until Nature decided it’s their time – they would sometimes make that choice themselves, in various ways Dazai didn’t know of before. So, he observed and copied them, stealing the necessary tools form fishermen. He tried and tried…
And failed every time.
It was as if death itself didn’t want to take him. He suffered the pain, but ultimately always recovered until his upper body was covered in scars entirely. He knew what they were, sea creatures would have them after the fights for dominance, but in his case they were different. They weren’t the symbol of victory, of pride, but ugly reminders of his failures. They glared and laughed at him, making him recall the pain that he inflicted on himself for nothing. So he covered them under the bandages stolen from humans.
Unable to end his existence, Dazai continued his wondering through the seas. Sometimes he stayed down below where no sunlight reached. Sometimes he hid behind the rocks of the shores and observed how the land life evolved in front of his eyes. He did that for days that turned into years.
And years that turned into decades, centuries, until he yet again abandoned the concept of time, as it was not needed. He didn’t want to continue counting for the rest of the eternity that was to come, so he just let the time pass as it pleased…
And he still doesn’t bother with it.
A lot has changed since the last time he looked at the land world. There are more humans now, their boats are larger than before, not as fragile, but they still shatter at the rocky shores when the storms come.
So even after all this time, they are at the mercy of Nature, huh?
It doesn’t matter though. He may be spending his boredom watching them, but their world isn’t his and he feels nothing towards what they call ‘tragedies’, even as cold bodies sink into the sea right before his eyes. He believes this is how it’s supposed to be, so he doesn’t interfere.
And today is peaceful. Both the weather and his mind.
The Sun shines high in the perfectly clear sky, warming the rocks at the bottom of the cliff where he decided to spend the day. He has never seen any humans visit here – they tend to prefer sandy beaches and fear the cliffs where one wrong step can mean everything. He lies on the soft bed of seagrass covering the hard surface that only shows itself to the sky during a low tide, only his tail’s end still in the salty water.
He watches the birds circling far above him and listens to the faint sound of leaves dancing on the breeze in the distance. He takes it in, mind empty of the normally lingering thoughts. Maybe he can sleep here for a while, the tide is slowly rising, so soon enough he won’t need to worry about being discovered.
He closes his eyes and lets his consciousness slip away immediately…
Poke.
Dazai stirs from his sleep at the sudden feeling on his tail – not much time must have passed as he can still feel the sunrays and wind on his skin, but the sea is significantly higher now, more than half of his tail under water. He opens his eyes expecting to find a bird, or some other land creature, and he isn’t wrong, only very surprised.
Almost as surprised as the deep, blue eyes, shining as if he was looking at the sky from beneath the water’s surface and staring at him curiously. A body so small and delicate it looks so out of place around the hard rocks and loud splashes of the waves on them, its hair bright as the fires Dazai has seen from afar, falling in long, wet strands on the round, porcelain face painted with the slightest of blushes.
A human child.
A very small human child.
He has never seen one before this close. He’s heard their cries being carried by the wind, but the only humans he encountered in this proximity were fishermen from which he’d steal whatever he needed at the time. And he has always been very careful about it – encounters with these creatures always ended badly, they’d fear and hurt him, so he tried to avoid the contact at any cost. But this child didn’t scream or tremble when his gaze fell upon the small face and it continues to be silently observing Dazai, as if trying to understand something it clearly cannot.
And the boy isn’t the only one. There are many questions going through the siren’s head. Why is a human child here? Why did it poke his tail? Why is it looking at him like that? Are there more humans nearby? Why would its parents let it stray so far from the beach while the tide is rising?
As on command, a strong wave hits the rock behind the little creature, startling it and throwing it off-balance. It is a thought that lasts for less than a second – the child is about to fall and even as it wraps its small arms around his tail, it won’t be able to hold on. The water will swallow it just like many lives before were lost to the merciless seas. And Dazai never interferes, always lets Nature do its work, but his body moves on its own. He sits up and catches the child by the back of its clothes, pulling it out of water’s reach and putting back on the rock beside him.
Only the little redhead doesn’t stay there. When the next, smaller wave comes right after, the child throws itself onto Dazai with a startled cry and tightly closed eyelids, shaky arms wrapping around his bandaged torso. Or trying to, with how short they are.
And Dazai doesn’t know what to do.
He saved the tiny human, but what comes next? It looks scared and not willing to let go of him, and the only thing he can do is stare at it with confused eyes, his arms hoovering up as he doesn’t know what to do with them. Should he try to pry it away from his chest? But it would end up in another dangerous situation and he didn’t save it just to watch the small redhead fall again.
Minutes pass and no solution appears in his mind, but he realises that with every prolonged moment of this strange interaction, the tide rises more and more, and finally that thought hits him. He looks towards the land and, not knowing how this little creature managed to climb here, he doesn’t see any path for it to take back. Maybe if it was older, taller, it could swim to the beach, but it doesn’t seem capable of that. And it starts shivering, from fear or maybe cold.
There isn’t much time before the water reaches where they sit, so Dazai decides to try something he has never done before – speaking.
He knows the language humans around here use, but there is no guarantee this particular, little one will understand him. It could be too young, or too shocked, but it’s the best chance he has at solving this problem.
“Em…” He startles himself at the quiet sound coming from his throat. It’s undeniably his own voice, but it’s the first time he hears himself and it’s so new, so strange. It should have been lost in the loud splashed of the waves, but the child looks up at him with waiting eyes. “Do you… em… why are you here?”
The little redhead doesn’t stop staring at him and its words are spoken almost too quietly to hear, muffled by how his face is still pressed against Dazai’s bandages.
“..etty.” Then, one small hand falls down to where his tail begins and he can’t help but twitch at the touch. “Pretty.”
Dazai always tells himself he doesn’t understand humans, but to say he doesn’t understand human children would be a massive understatement. All creatures act on instinct, it’s a essential to their survival. When they see something new, something unknown to them, they proceed with caution and keep their distance. But this one…
It came close enough to poke at his tail and cling to him, because his scales looked pretty?
“Right… You… should go home.”
Or at least back on the land.
But this idea only makes the child grip his bandages tighter, wary eyes looking over the waters separating them from the sand. Of course the little thing is scared now, and not before it decided to climb the rocks and disturb his sleep. And how did it even manage to get so far on its tiny feet? Can it even walk on its own?
Well, whatever this creature does on the land is none of his concern. His hands finally fall down to the smaller ones, trying to gently pry them away from his body, but the child doesn’t like the idea of letting go.
“N-no!” And scoots even closer.
“Listen, little human, I can help you get to the beach, but I need you to let go of me first.”
There is a moment of hesitation as the redhead considers the water around them again and then the big hands covering his own, before relaxing his grip and letting go. Free to move again, Dazai slips off the rock, careful as to not pull the child with him. As he thought, the water isn’t that high yet – just barely enough for him to stretch his tail and swim comfortably – but it is too much for the shivering, little creature watching him with uncertain eyes as he stretches one of his arms towards the redhead.
Over the decades, Dazai learnt that humans, despite having almost identical upper bodies to his own, cannot breath underwater and many of them don’t even know how to swim, but simply touching the water doesn’t hurt them in any way that he can see.
The child hesitates, but reaches out to grab the offered hand and carefully slides down on the wet rocks. It’s not perfect, Dazai isn’t able to hold the child completely above the surface, but he manages to only have its legs dipped into the water. It’s also not the most comfortable position – swimming on his back while holding the small human in the air and being careful of any obstacles this close to the beach is… annoying.
However, the redhead seems to have a different opinion.
His eyes are no longer scared – they’re shining with delight – short hands try to reach every wave and grab the foam forming around them.
Yet another thing Dazai doesn’t understand.
Was this created not terrified to the point of tears just moments ago? Does it not realise that it could be dropped at any time? That it’s at the mercy of not only a stranger, but something that isn’t human?
The brunette watches the bright smile turn into a frown when drops of salty water fall into the open mouth and, maybe for the first time since the beginning of his long existence, Dazai laughs.
But he doesn’t know why.
He has never laughed before, didn’t even know what laughter was before learning about it from humans, and even after that the concept was too vague for him. There was no pattern to when humans laughed that he could copy, or try to decipher.
Is it the correct reaction to this sight? To this situation?
He doesn’t know.
He’s deep in his thoughts when sand hits his back. Beach. The boy isn’t happy with being put down, cold water coming up to his hips now, but he doesn’t protest. He also doesn’t move – standing still in place he watches the land with a conflicted look, an emotion far too complicated for a child to have hiding in its eyes, like he doesn’t want to go back.
It’s strange, not logical in the siren’s opinion, but… what happens on the land isn’t Dazai’s concern. He should just slowly back away, slip under the waves and never see the redhead again.
Splash, splash, splash—
Brown orbs look up at the sound and he can see wide eyes looking at him with concern, mouth open, coughing from the water falling inside, and a small body struggling with fighting the tide as the boy tries to run after him.
“Hey! Little human! Stop it!” He did not save the boy from drowning only for the stupid creature to do try it again so soon. Giving up on understating what’s going on in that small head, Dazai swims close enough to stop the child from going farther. “Home. Go home. It’s dange—“
Squeeze.
Arms squeezing the brunette’s neck.
Is this human trying to… suffocate him? Because he helped?
It doesn’t feel threatening, it’s too light and ends far too quickly to do any damage. But why then? Why bother chasing after him in the cold water just for this?
“Thank you!” The child says, smile beaming with happiness, before waving his hand and going away. It takes a while before Dazai loses sight of the bright hair, confusion making it impossible to move from the spot where he was… attacked? Thanked?
‘Humans are… bizarre.’