A/N: I honestly don't know what's with the cracky plot ideas. (By the way, many many thanks to Juncici and Eleven Clovers for the Pika!Aoko and Pika!Kaito pics. They're adorable :3) This one was, originally, fairly inspired by DireSphinx's 'Crabby'… even if here I'm taking things pretty literally. (And, well, it may have something to do with the fact that I went to see Ponyo on the Cliff. Twice.)

Thanks go out to Halfling Rogue for the boatload of music. Have many cookies, m'dear!

Also, for (cracky) verisimilitude motives, let us say that not only Shinichi, but also Heiji and Kaito can't sing to save their lives, shall we?

Disclaimer—I don't know how Gosho-sensei would react were he to know how I'm handling his characters.

-

Under The Sea

-

Once upon a time, under the smooth surface of the blue oceans, a manly and melodious voice—

"KAITO! KAITO! KAITO!"

The throne room shook. The sea palace shook. The sea kingdom shook.

A grey-haired merman whose tail was slowly dulling from its original blued silver hastily swam his way between the shell pillars and skidded to a stop, in a flurry of bubbles, before the great platinum throne. "Touichi-ou…"

The Sea King turned a stern stare on him. The kind-hearted smile he usually bestowed on his first counsellor and best friend had all but vanished, although the elder merman had had years enough of practise to discern in the blue eyes the definite stain of worry. "Jii-chan. Where has my son gone to this time."

"Ah. Um," the old counsellor said, ill at ease under his King's scrutiny. "Um. I believe Kaito-botchamma is in his… usual place, Ou-sama. He generally is at this time of the evening."

The sovereign's eyes narrowed. "And I supposed no one has deigned to go to him and say he has, by missing it, ruined this morning's rehearsal of the Annual Sea Convention Sing?"

If Jii-chan had had feet to fidget with, he would have fidgeted. As it was (and as the mere idea of having feet would have made him tremble in horror), he merely flicked his tail nervously in the water once or twice and ventured a, "I doubt it, Your Majesty, if neither of his royal brothers has gone to him—"

"They haven't," the King snapped. "And of course you haven't thought about going yourself."

The old merman held his head with utter dignity. "I'll have to remind you, your Grace, that after this morning's pandemonium it has been my duty to put things right again, and not everything has been replaced yet—"

A pause, and then the ruler sighed and slumped in his seat. "You are right, Jii-chan. I'm sorry. Kaito has defied my orders so many times, and I had no idea where he was–will you go to him now and tell him his father wants a talk with him?" he added, more severely.

The counsellor safely hid a smile in his moustache. "Of course, Touichi-ou."

He swam off, but his confidence left him rapidly as soon as he was ten strokes from the palace, skirting around floating branches of seaweed. Kaito, third and youngest son of the Sea King, was in his way the most reckless, and certainly the most careless. He had a severe tendency of slithering out of everything he didn't like–the Annual Sea Sing being certainly one of those. Jii-chan could sympathize—it wasn't like any of the three royal princes could sing, anyway—but why risk his father's wrath by not even showing up on due day? that was beyond the old, devoted servant to the regal family.

Besides, he wasn't certain he would even be able to bring him back to the palace. The youngest prince could talk himself out of too many things for his own safety, and he'd most likely shrug the matter off with a laugh if the request took him by surprise in the midst of his juggle training.

Despite all his faults and negligence, however, thought the old counsellor with a smile as he swam on toward the surface, Kaito-botchamma was more his father's son than any of his brothers (this being not an insult to the mother of the three princes, as he thought with a shudder). He couldn't have cared less for royalty, which finally suited everyone, and instead was quite content with training in magic tricks and entertaining the merfolk with surprise shows and underwater fireworks.

He disliked the palace to an extent, moreover, and often found refuge in a stone cave barely a mile underneath the surface, which he had agreeably furnished and ornamented to please his own tastes. This was where old Jii-chan was heading now, hoping to find the third prince in his usual harbour.

-o-

To be truthful, he had rather expected old Jii-chan sooner. After the disaster that had been this morning—for he had come, yes, but two hours late; and judging by the mayhem in the palace hall he had thought it safer to just back away—his first thought was that his father would send his hunters after him as soon as he gathered his wits about him.

As it was, however, it was only in the evening that the old counsellor found him, seating on the cave's roof while he practised his juggling. Old breezer was quite exhausted. He was breathing out dejected bubbles.

"Kaito-botchamma," he said, firmly; the kind of voice he used to adopt when Kaito was a young merboy who barely knew how to do flip-flops in the water. It worked then.

It didn't now. Therefore, Kaito replied, "Umm, yes?" and went on juggling, his tail flicking to and fro over the rock.

"Kaito-botchamma," Jii-chan repeated, direly. "Your father is very angry with you. You have missed the rehearsal of the Annual Sea Convention Sing, which might I remind you takes place in three days—"

"Pfft—please, Jii-chan. The Annual Sea Convention Sing? a bunch of old merfolk who feel forced to come and clap enthusiastically at whatever we badly sing—I don't even know why Oyaji wants us to continue it." He slipped off the stone dip and with a lash of his tail floated lazily toward Jii-chan, who had stiffened.

"Touichi-ou keeps a very strict edge of tradition—"

"Tradition my tail. He just likes to torture us—" He gave the aforementioned tail an experimental tug, still juggling with one hand, grinned, and made to slip back into the mouth of the cave; and, most likely, not budge out of it until he ran out of food material.

"Kaito-botchamma, you can't just stay here," Jii-chan insisted desperately. "The reports announce a tempest on the surface–you are so close to it, you might get injured—" he relaxed; he was on safer, knowledgeable grounds now. Surely even the prince would respond to the voice of reason— "Staying here—"

Kaito had stilled. "A tempest?" he repeated, and the tone of his voice made Jii-chan halt in his tracks. No, n— "Did the reports say whether any human ships were on an outing tonight?"

No.

"Kaito-botchamma, I do not believe this is a good idea." He should have known. He should have known. The youngest prince delighted in going to see the humanfolk, no matter the risk of being seen and caught and tortured as a monster; and of course he would think a tempest the best scenery to play tricks on poor, pitiful human minds.

"Of course it is, old fish." Kaito's hair was floating around his face with animation, a black halo screening the blue of his laughing eyes. "C'mon, it'll be fun. We'll strike a light on the rocks and lead them astray with our beautiful voices," he finished in a chuckle.

"Your father," Jii-chan began, feeling that only the mention of this symbol of authority would reason down the young merman, and got cut off by a large, dark silhouette shading them from the surface of the sea.

"Human ship!" Kaito chirped happily, and with a twist of his hips swam decidedly upwards toward the black shape, trailing a bewildered, protesting Jii-chan in tow.

By the time they reached the surface, the night had nearly fallen, and only the fading radiance of a brilliant sunset still wisped over the sky and its reflection on the sea. The wind was strong and cold, salty; and that and the deep-seated waves brought them closer and closer to the ship–an enormous building, surely belonging to very rich humanfolk, so far as either of them understood humanfolk ways–until they were no farther than a few yards from the prow.

"Music," Kaito remarked, getting a little closer still, and shaking his head like a sea horse as the ebb tide brewed about by the keel hit him in the face.

"Yes, yes, music," Jii-chan said rapidly. He was rendered nervous by the proximity of so many humans, and widely resented the laughing, mocking glance his protégé cast him. "Now that we've come here to hear music­—oh, dear, music, Touichi-ou will be furious—we can perhaps go back down again–"

"There's a party on that ship," exclaimed Kaito, and, ducking, swam the last few strokes underwater to re-emerge, spluttering and cheerful, by the very side of the hull.

By the time Jii-chan had joined him, dreading the backwash, he had gripped one of the gunports and fastened his hand around the metal edge, dangling half-in and half-out of the water, his human torso dripping with salty sea. "Look at that, Jii-chan," he chuckled, shifting a little so that the old merman could imitate his poise.

There was a bit of a shuffle, and then the grey head sided alongside the dark in the narrow outlet of the gunport.

The ship was peopled by at least fifty humanfolk, two thirds of whose were dressed in elaborated, fluffy versions of those strange fabric pieces they called–garments, Jii-chan knew, and Kaito would have added clothes–for no good reason either of them could see. Those of the last third were more modestly clothed; they were also attending to the ship, apparently, and all men. There were women in the first two thirds.

The music, now much clearer and louder—didn't humanfolk know how to play good music?—came from instruments that were rather similar to those used by merfolk (Jii-chan whimpered a little at the thought of those which had been lost and broken in the mayhem of this morning's Annual Sea Convention Sing rehearsal) and a few of the humans were seemingly dancing to the cheerful tune. If it could be called dancing. (And they supposed it was cheerful music, as most of the people were laughing. To their ears, for all they knew, it might have been distressing and gloomy.)

"Humans are fascinating," Kaito chuckled again, although his voice might have been more mocking than affectionate. "And—oh, Neptune! do you think that might be a dog?"

Whatever it was, the long-haired animal seemed to smell them. It came barking over, and Jii-chan squealed and ducked back to the sea, while Kaito, blinking, pulled quickly out of sight. It did not seem satisfied at finding the gunport void of any presence, however, and came sniffling closer, its big, black muzzle—

"Keiko!" a feminine voice called, and the dog–since, apparently, it was a dog–was pushed thankfully back. Kaito blinked wet hair out of his face and inched prudently closer again.

The woman—it was a woman, despite the man's clothes (or at least he supposed so—all of the women around all were wearing those long, floating clothes with lots of lace and ribbons, while this one was only dressed in a white garment over her bust and black tubes of cloth which only got down to mid-leg)—had blue eyes and a laugh on her lips as she crouched by the dog, presumably scolding it. Her black hair was messy and loose on her shoulders, not at all like any of the other women's—

"Kaito-botchamma!" Jii-chan hissed furiously in his ear. "The human is too close–if she just looked around she would see you—"

"Shut up, Jii-chan," Kaito murmured, and stayed focused on the girl. "She looks–"

Whatever she looked like was to remain a secret, if only that night. The dog barked again, this time more cheerfully (could a dog be cheerful? he supposed so–crabs could be) and leaped up to lap at the woman's face; she toppled over on her back, laughing breathlessly. "Keiko!"

"Princess."

An oldish man in stiff garments and rather odd white hair was taking to bowing to her. "Prince Hakuba is awaiting you to unravel his present to you."

The woman's face contorted one moment and then eased as she leapt to her feet, pushing Keiko away despite the dog's protests. "Really. How kind of you, Hakuba-kun, to think of my birthday."

Hakuba was a young man with a head held high and somewhat pale hair (which, Kaito thought, would look much better in pink. At least it would suit his outfit). "I would never forget, Aoko-san," he said, although crisply, and walked over to a tall object covered in cloth in the middle of deck, amid the dancers. (They'd stopped.) "Please."

Kaito saw her hesitate—a blink of the eye, a shiver of the lips—before she accepted the rope the pale-haired prince was handing her and gave it one sharp tug.

The rough cloth slipped off a statue. It was, Kaito saw, inching a little farther off and ignoring Jii-chan's insistant prodding, a perfect replica of the woman in gold and platinum, although she was represented dressed in one of those flowing garments the other women seemed to affectionate. A sculpt of the fair-haired man sat at her unmoving feet, looking up at her, the very image of adoration and respect.

The crowd stilled, and jolted, and pressed closer. "What admirable handcraft—" "Oh, how amazing—" "Such attention—" "Charming— "

Kaito chortled. He had seen better. Seacraftmen—

His thoughts were derailed, however, when he saw the young woman—Aoko?—escape a few congratulating humans and up a flight of steps onto the forecastle. With a delighted grin—she hated those ceremonies about as much as he did, evidently­—he grabbed on the tight ropes that trembled under the sails' weight and hauled himself right out of the water, squinting between holes to keep her in sight.

"Kaito-botchamma!" Jii-chan hissed, trying to drag him back down, but Kaito chased him away with a brush of his tail and fastened his grip onto a metal railing, peeking through another gunport.

The young woman had propped herself down on a roll of rope; her black hair falling around her face, wild with the shake of the wind; clothes mussed and stained. Her dog was curled up beside her, rumbling agreeably as she petted it; long, pale fingers worked their way through the flowing greyish hairs. The woman nuzzled her pet absently.

"What'cha think about Prince Hakuba's present?" she asked it, on a high, affected voice, and broke down on a dejected chuckle over the last word. "I call it wedding present." She dropped a preoccupied kiss on the dog's muzzle. "Dad will adore it."

Kaito remarked in passing that his grasp onto the railing had whitened his knuckles in a death-grip sort of way. She was talking again.

"Of course," she was adding, to the entire benefit of her pet, and, though unbeknownst to her, that of the merman hungrily listening to each and everyone of her words, "I could go to see him as soon as we've landed tomorrow and tell him I don't want to marry Prince Hakuba?"

The dog sneezed. Aoko laughed.

"Right. He would say I don't know what I'm saying." One of her hands buried in her pet's long hairs. "Hmm."

Kaito inched prudently closer, trying to see more (and better), and promptly got lugged back down by one irate Jii-chan. "Kaito-botchamma!" (By this time, the hissing had gotten so anxious it was quite loud, and risked drawing attention to their side of the ship.)

"What—" Kaito retorted, and then saw.

There had been reports for a tempest. Now these reports were unrolling before their eyes in black, looming clouds that caught what little remained of light in the portion of sky where the sun's last beams had not yet completely disappeared. They were rolling threateningly closer, imminent and reeling, ready to burst as soon as they came onto them. On the other hand, stem-wise, the dark was shred through with fierce, burning lashes of light, flashing harshly against the surface of sea-water.

"Oh," Kaito said, eloquently, and then thought of the crew up there, unknowing and exposed, thought of the woman with her back turned lightning-side—

"We need to go," Jii-chan hissed furiously in his ear. "If the storm catches us—"

"If it catches the ship," Kaito corrected, and surprised himself with the urgency of his own voice. Neptune's tail, these were humans– "They'll drown–we've got to warn them now—"

A nasty crack! on deck covered what was audible of Jii-chan's screeching.

-o-

It turned out that Prince Hakuba's statue, having remained unmoved and untouched for all of six hours, had finally answered to the call of gravity and broken right through the wooden slats underneath it.

Aoko cursed like she shouldn't and shouted out orders. There was no time for repairs, not with the storm threatening to spill over them (and why had no one noticed it until the very deck-floor had all but crumbled under their feet?) and certainly not considering the amount of damage. They would have to go with the lifeboats, despite the now fast-falling rain.

She'd shepherded most of the guests (stupid, stupid, stupid idea–a birthday party on a ship? only her father would think of it twice through) and was still yelling indistinctly at the captain, and, failing that, his boatswain, when Prince Hakuba came up to her.

"Dread not, Aoko-san. In the matter of tempests—"

"Get down here," Aoko cut in curtly, and pushed him down the string ladder to the lifeboats, turning to the captain even before the prince had crashed down in the craft. "How far along are we?"

"She's lost," the man said. "The inner rooms are already drowned, and that bloody wind is doing nothing good to our masts. Foresail's already torn through."

"Hnn. Have we got everybody in? the crew?"

"All here, Princess," the boatswain said, standing a few yards away with a bundle of mariners. "We'll go down in the third boat."

"Ri—Keiko!"

The dog had remained on forecastle deck when Aoko had raced down the steps to maindeck. She was now outstretched over the side, standing precariously on her hind legs and growling at­—at what?—something in the water. "Keiko!"

"Princess!"

"Aoko-sama!"

Aoko ignored the yells as she ran off to her dog, grabbing a handful of hairs and trying to pull, but Keiko whined and growled and shook free, her front paws clawing maniacally at the wooden edge as she tried to climb over. "Keiko! Come on, the ship's about to sink–there's nothing there— "

Nothing—a flicker of black among the dark waves, maybe, but it was gone as soon as she focused on it, and she forcefully dragged Keiko away. "Come on­­—"

She had reached foremast, half the way to the ladder where the captain was gesturing wildly, when Keiko broke free again, sped away, and with a great leap, toppled right over the edge of the deck, straight into the furious water.

Aoko let out a cry, and ran over to the side, searching frantically, her heartbeat racing a thousand miles an hour, and then—

Keiko's muzzled emerged from the waves, popping out as though she had been pushed out. The nearest boat, which had been manoeuvring closer, managed to get close enough, and one of the mariners on it grabbed Keiko by the collar, hauling her, with the aid of two or three others, onto the fragile craft. Keiko looked dismayed and frightened as she shook icy water off her hair and onto everybody else, curled up on herself, and lifted bloodshot eyes to the side of the ship Aoko was still clutching onto.

She breathed a sigh of relief—for a moment, she'd—she'd thought—and resumed her way to the ladder. The captain was already half down it, clinging onto the strings with one hand, gesturing with the oth—

The foremast crashed down nearly onto her. The ship was run through by a great shock, thunder crashed, and through the fluttering sails that tumbled down before her, pale and floating like shrouds, Aoko saw the last boat jerked away from the keel despite the mariners' efforts.

"Aoko-sama!"

"Aoko-sama, you need to jump!"

A man in the first boat, the one that rescued Keiko, stood at the very side of his embarkation, one arm waving, the other holding tight onto a oar. "Aoko-sama, grab a rope and jump! We'll get you out!"

Aoko, for a second, was overwhelmed by an outbreak of sensations and feelings–fear lashed through her like a cold flood, and then surged back, as she felt terribly, crushingly relieved that they all were safe and no one else was stuck on the ship like she was; and then a sort of fierce, fond pride settled in when she realized, slowly, that they wouldn't leave her here.

So she nodded, and grabbed onto the nearest line, using it for support as she climbed, blindly, over the edge of the deck, feet finding support onto a gunport, the hardness of a cannon, and then trembling wood. She looked down at the sea—the dark, dark sea, and for the first time since she was a little girl she thought, fleetingly, like a sparkle blurring through her harassed brain, of the legends she used to be read about merfolk and marine creatures underneath the water—

­—and then she jumped.

And the ship rocked again, violently, sending her off to the side and, with a great gust of wind that thrashed through her, cold and wet, she fell.

She had only a moment to register in panic before the great waters crashed over her.

-o-

The tempest didn't let off before predawn.

Kaito welcomed the grey, clearing light and the soothing waves with respite, almost contentment. He was exhausted, and his arms were growing stiff of holding onto a still body, of having to swim close to the surface to make sure she could breathe. He had not realized the coast was so far–or maybe he had just swum around in the storm. The young woman was a dead weight under his grip, and he had had to focus on both swimming through and holding onto her.

By the time he reached coast, and a beach, his body was shaking in protest and his tail felt heavier than he could remember it ever had. As he deposited his carry upon the sand, however, his hand trailed and lingered over her right wrist, touching the damp skin gingerly, cautiously, after a whole night of bodies pressed flush against the other.

His shoulders slumped a little. He had swum for hours, and the breaks he had taken had never quite been so—not in a thunderstorm. It was nearly dawn.

The lifeboats, under Jii-chan's reluctant but loyal protection, must have reached port much longer ago. And, probably, they had brought the human king up there—yes, those were definitely the roofs of a town over the cliff, and if he recalled his geography well it had to be the ship's home, or it would not be so relatively close—the news of his daughter's death. But then, eventually, someone would come down to the beach and—

The young woman stirred beside him and started to cough up seawater, though still unconscious; and that recalled her to him. The skin under his fingertips was warming up. She would be waking soon.

He should be going. Jii-chan was probably waiting for him a little way away, expecting him in anxiety–and besides there would be no doubt of the woman's reaction if, at waking up, she fond a merman bent over her. This girl had quite the voice. Her yells would reverberate–

Despite that, he found himself staying. She was pretty, in a human, no-tail-two-legs sort of way. Her (manly? he couldn't be sure) clothing had been torn in places by the storm's fury, and showed pale skin underneath, smooth under the touch of his exploring fingers; her head had rolled a little to the side, and as grains of sand strayed in her black, wet hair, in the first silvery gleams of morning lights, it appeared tangled with minute seapearls.

And as the first half of a timid, pale-golden sun started to rise over the waves, catching and reflecting on Kaito's tail like a token, Kaito found himself absurdly wishing he could stay, could stand like she would soon and take her hand, squeeze it, as they walked to the town; and what wouldn't I give, he thought, revealingly, reverently, the words straying off without end like a prayer, what wouldn't I give to be part of—

—a dog started to bark and the sunrise-bubble all but deflated.

It barked; close, getting closer still, and behind it came a man's voice that sounded disturbingly like that Prince Hakuba's— "Keiko! You damn animal, come back here—"

Kaito blinked back down at the young woman. She blinked back up at him, slowly, hazily, with eyes that were nearly as blue as the junction of sky and sea. Beautiful, he almost thought—

A beat, and then Kaito spun around and dived back under the waves.

-o-

To be entirely truthful, Shinichi, heir of the sea kingdom, happily married for two years already, was getting seriously worried.

Heiji, in his own, gruff, reluctant, rebelling sort of way, was alright as he was. His access might be difficult, and he might be too hot-tempered to make a good king (not that he wanted to anyway), but he had a great sense of justice and his thought processes were easily followed. (Everyone knew, anyhow, that Kazuha-chan could and would keep him in check if it so became necessary.) But Kaito…

Kaito.

Shinichi was close to his younger brothers, but as a rule he was closer to Heiji, who widely resembled him, in mind if not in looks. Kaito, while loved as much, differentiated himself from them quite strikingly, despite his own acute resemblance to his elder brother.

Kaito would always be the one who'd do what no one expected. As a merchild, he delighted in going where it was forbidden, in doing what was forbidden, openly risking his father's wrath and not any less cheerful for it. He would be bluntly frank and sincere about what he did, admitting with a shrug and a crazied grin that it sounded fun to do–and so he did it. He wasn't as quick-tempered as Heiji, though, or at least not in the same aspect, and had enough brains to prepare (what he used to call) his explorations for days and nights, hardly getting any sleep for it.

He could not be read easily. But even that, even that sort of behaviour, while growing up, might have remained limited to the boundaries it itself fixed to itself, and Shinichi had thought he would, at least, discern a pattern to it. He did not.

Kaito was, as a rule, thoroughly unpredictable. So he was as a merboy, and so he was as a merman.

Even now, even after the disaster of the Annual Sea Convention Sing rehearsal, where Shinichi had expected him to either understand the problem (as he did sometimes) and apologize humbly (as it had been shown in some cases he could), or to just shrug and laugh the matter off with a jibe; Kaito had really nodded, absently, had uttered a vague sorry and then swam off to his usual refuge (too close to the surface).

Shinichi, who'd been in the throne room when the scolding had taken place, has been astonished. Kaito gone, he had demanded explanations from their father. The Sea King, however, had smiled and patted him on the back, and let it go (for some reason).

Not one to be rebuked, he had sought out Jii-chan and tried to extort details from him about the evening when Kaito had just left and not returned till morning, exhausted as though he had swum all night, and had gotten nothing, except the sheer conviction, from Jii-chan's tone and reluctance to say anything, that something had truly happened to his younger brother that evening.

Which was why he was now here, floating uncertainly by the mouth of Kaito's favourited cave, hesitant as to call out or just come in.

He was spared of taking an actual decision by his brother's voice drifting out. "C'mon in. Don't just stand there." The voice was amused, but lacked its usual contagious cheer, and Shinichi's chest constricted a little tighter.

Kaito was lying on his back, arms behind his head, his tail a thoughtful flick in the water. At the sight of his elder brother slipping in the cave, he arched an eyebrow. "Hey."

"Hey." Shinichi hovered uncertainly by the orifice. "You okay?"

The second eyebrow joined up the first, and Kaito straightened up. "Ye-es. What motivates the question, exactly?"

Shinichi felt more uneasy than ever. He wasn't certain he wanted to know, but this overly serious Kaito was a little more disconcerting than he liked. "Well. You didn't do anything when Father told you off this morning–"

"… a-ahh." His younger sibling grinned up, curling up his tail underneath him. "That's why you're coming to see me. I should have thought so."

And that was worse than ever. Kaito admitting to a slip-up was probably even more unsettling than Kaito doing the slip-up. Shinichi leaned slightly against one cool stone wall. "Can you answer sincerely if I ask you one question?"

Kaito had turned away to grab something—what was that, a piece of metal? It was strangely-shaped— "One question."

"Did something happen the night before last?"

Apparently, he'd been expecting it. His brother turned back to his scrutiny with the easy grin of a clown–fake, if anything. Shinichi had grown able to read most of his sibling's easiest aspects, and that one was certainly one of those. "What should have happened, niisan?"

"Answer the question."

"… well. Nothing much. I–met someone, is all."

Shinichi held his breath for a second and released it in a flurry of bubbles. "A girl?"

­—there was a whoosh of water, and Heiji barged in the cave with the all courteous and tactful manners of a ill-awakened swordfish. "Ha!" he proclaimed, and the word echoed painfully around the iridescent walls of the cave. "You've finally found a poor mergirl to mess about, have you?"

"Shut up," said Kaito without missing a beat, and to Shinichi, "no, I met a crab-lady. Of course a girl, niisan."

Shinichi blinked. Twice. Er. "Well," he said, trying to adapt. So far, Kaito had not shown the least interest in any merwoman he'd met–or any merman for that matter. "… congratulations?"

Kaito grinned in a way he didn't like at all. "… I'm not too certain you want to say that."

Okay. That was where the ominous feeling came from. Shinichi leaned more firmly against the wall, and braced himself against the painful truth, whatever it was. "All right. What is she, part-octopus?"

"What?" said Kaito, looking nonplussed. "No. No she's not."

"What's the problem, then?"

"I dunno if it's a problem." Kaito kept turning the piece of metal in his fingers, and it was a little disturbing. Or. Maybe. It was the strange familiarity of the metal piece that was a little disturbing. "She's very pretty, looks a little like your Ran—"

Heiji, who'd been manhandling around the few trinkets Kaito kept on his shelves, remarked with a decisive lash of his tail, "I don't think Neechan has any cousins. Has she?"

For some reason, Kaito seemed to find this extremely funny. Once he had come down from his giggling high, however, he replied breathily— "Oh, no. She's not—I think I can assure you she's not Ran's cousin. Unless there are some things Ran hasn't told us, that is."

Shinichi frowned. Kaito usually refrained from any remarks on his brother's wife, but this did not please him much. "Then what is the matter?"

"Hmm. Well, I wonder. She's got messy hair, very black, or maybe it was because it was wet, very blue eyes, a great smile; she's a bit tomboyish–she likes to shout," he chuckled. "She comes from a good descent, she's got the prettiest hands I've ever seen—"

Shinichi rolled his eyes. Looked like his brother was essentially smitten, and that was it. "Get on with it," barked Heiji, not unkindly.

"—and the most decent pair of legs she can ever hope to get," Kaito finished on the same breath.

Shinichi's tail very nearly gave out on him. "… what."

And then he realized the thing—metal thing Kaito had been fiddling around was human-made.

Heiji was much less fazed. "Had to happen one day," he shrugged dramatically, "what with you collecting all these human things." He pointed at the thin metallic object with spiky teeth Kaito kept fiddling with. "What's that, for instance?"

"A hairbrush, I think," Kaito said thoughtfully, threading it through his hair for demonstration. "It's got dents."

"You'd think they'd make somethin' more practical to brush their hair with."

"Well, humans are supposed to be very advanced in matters of such techniques, but—"

"Oi!" Shinichi said, and then dropped off as both younger siblings turned with a pointed look. "You—You." He pointed at Kaito rather dramatically. "Do you mean to say that you've managed to fall in love with a human girl?"

"Charming bout of deduction, niisan," Kaito laughed. "That's pretty much the case. So?"

"A human?"

"When I last checked, which was yesterday morning, she didn't have a fish tail. Get to the point, niisan."

Shinichi stared at him, then at Heiji, who shrugged unhelpfully. There were many things he could have said at this point—what were you thinking, or but that's impossible, or, alternatively, does father know—and eventually he settled on, "When did you meet her?"

"Night before last," Kaito replied easily. "She was on a ship which got caught in the tempest. I saved her."

"You—ugh. What?"

"I saved her," Kaito repeated.

Shinichi started to consider banging his head against that nice wall. Of course Kaito was a bit eccentric under all respects, but this—this overlapped everything he had dared do earlier. A human girl. With legs. Legs.

That material part of the problem pleased him somewhat, and he chose to elaborate on it. "Alright. And how do you intend to woo her? I do not think this," pointing at his brother's tail, "is perfectly adequate to court a girl living on the land. And even if you do–then what? you'll have lots of little part-human part-merkids?"

Heiji's mouth twitched. "How does that even work?" he chuckled, and Shinichi chose—wisely—to ignore the possible sexual ramifications of this. His brain was enough of a puddle of goo as it was.

Kaito's nose was scrunching up in thought. "Of course, that's sort of a problem," he admitted, and Shinichi breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it—"

"Sorry?"

"Human saying," Kaito said with a grimace. "River represents an obstacle, the bridge the way to overcome it. Then again," he added, as though on an afterthought— "why bother build a bridge when you can just swim through the river?"

"The leg issue, maybe," Shinichi articulated direly.

Kaito looked positively enlightened.

"Leg issue isn't so much of a leg issue," Heiji snorted. "Wooing your girl isn't difficult. You just have to become a human, and that's that."

Shinichi was going through various phases of astonishment from which he did not think he would escape unscathed. "Become a human?" he repeated. "And pray, how d'you do that? Do you grow legs on a daily basis?"

Heiji's next look was part-irritated, part-superior. "'Course not," he said. "You just go to see the Sea Witch."

… that made it official. Both his brothers were crazy. Oh, how would he break in the news to their father…

"Sea Witch?" Kaito repeated, sounding puzzled. "Isn't that that crazy purple-haired mermaid who randomly decided she'd cast a curse over every merman under the sea and make them her slave ad eternam­—"

"—and whom father thankfully banned from the civilised parts of the Sea," Shinichi finished off. He put an arm around his youngest brother's shoulders and shook him lightly. "So you see it's completely out of the question, Heiji. Even Kaito here would think twice of visiting–"

"Think she'd give me legs?" Kaito said suddenly, with a grin Shinichi didn't like at all, and which unfortunately prevented him from processing that sentence until it was too late.

Heiji shrugged again. "For a price. That's what they say."

Shinichi's fingers tightened instinctively–and Kaito slipped right out of them, his tail lashing fast and sharp against his side as he zipped out of the cave and straight into bewildered-looking Jii-chan.

"Kaito!"

"Young master­­—your father—where are you going this time?"

"To see the Sea Witch!" Kaito shouted cheerfully, and tore past the nearest rock corner even before Shinichi made it out of the cave.

"Kai–what business did you have telling him that?" he lashed out furiously, and Heiji tensed up instinctively. He didn't bother for an answer, grabbed Jii-chan's shoulder, and spun him round in the direction Kaito had left into. "Go after him—try to stop him by all means before he gets to Akako's retreat."

He rather doubted it­—Kaito swam faster than even he, and Jii-chan was getting old. But at least he'd slow him down­— "Heiji and I are fetching father," he added, and swam fiercely in the other direction.

-o-

Kaito had often visited the boundaries of the known Sea. Beyond them, beyond a slow rise of red coral, was the countless Ocean, that which humans from long ago (when they still had those enormous hats and swords to the hip) called the brrrrrriny deep–whatever that meant. Only a few tribes lived there, communicating with them for trade and news of the surface. Through them came their meteorological reports and most of their building materials; workers also, when the season came. In this period of the year, however, there wasn't much trade, and the corals were deserted.

The Sea Witch's retreat was exactly what and where the legends put it; a cave deep in the lowest foundation of red coral, hardly even lit, but from which floated large bands of purplish seaweed. There was no fish, none marine creature close, but as Kaito swam hesitantly across the mouth of the orifice, a merman—only he was way too short to be a merman, and probably half-lobster if his face was any indication—swam out to meet him.

"Your Grace," he said, without bowing, and in a voice Kaito found he didn't like. At all. "The Mistress expected you later."

He didn't exactly know what he had expected, but that. Wasn't it. "Oh, really? When did she expect me, then?" he asked, keeping at a cautious distance from the other merman. He may be impulsive, he wasn't a fool, either. The Sea Witch didn't have a good reputation, nor did any of her minions.

"Not for a few years at least," the other said smoothly. His voice carried strangely across the water. Maybe the lack of bubbles. "She will be pleased," and led the way into the coral.

Kaito hesitantly followed. The passage went on for several strokes, getting darker and narrower, until it was lit brightly as it opened up on a wider, larger cave, also in red coral. There the merman bowed low to him and slipped away through a crack.

Kaito looked vaguely around. Little furniture. Bottles of things he had no wish to know more of. Seaweed books. A square throne, silver-made apparently, stood in the largest corner, its armrests spreading out long and low as the chair fitted down the spine.

He approached it gingerly, brushing fingers against the back as he—

"Kuroba Kaito."

The voice was slow and sultry, and it came from behind him. He did not turn immediately. The tone was familiar, if not the sound itself, and he recognized the strong underlying current that lay there, powerful and repressed.

"Sea Witch-san, I presume?" he asked, turning back, and flicking away from the throne. He found the water thick and heavy under his muscles, twining around his arms as though to bind him there.

"You presume well," the mermaid said. She did not look any older than he was, though she probably was, by centuries. But her face was the very smoothness of underwater moss, though less green under the strong lights, and her hair glided over her back like a purple robe as she drifted down onto the throne. "And you are our third little prince. Kaito."

He inclined his head, slowly. His usual cheekiness would not do here, he felt, or he might not get what he wanted. What he wanted, he thought, was worth some self-conscience.

"Hmmm. I did not expect you so soon."

"That servant of yours said the same thing," he said, the words slipping out with an easy smile slipping in. "Was I expected in a few years?"

"You might have been." There were no pauses in her talk; no sign of hesitation as her lips curved. "I know you fairly well, Kaito. As a matter of fact, I know your whole family fairly well; except, of course, for the latest additions. I have not been in contact with any of you since your father thought it best to ban me here. You are, in fact," she said on a slow purr, "the first of the regal family I am seeing in years. Do you know that there is something predicted about you?" she asked, without the slightest transition.

He did not. "Some kind of prophecy?" he ventured at random.

Her laugh was slow and amused. "Dear me, no. Oh, no. Nothing so ridiculous. What gave you the idea?"

He shrugged. "Too much reading?"

"Possibly." She rose from her throne, almost without changing position, and hovered over the table, fingertips brushing the hem of a bottle. "It is merely a prediction Hades offered me, thinking it might be of assistance."

Hades. … right.

"It is said that you are the only merman who will not, and never, be a slave of mine."

Kaito was rendered speechless, which to his credit did not happen often. "Indeed," he said, recovering. "I must own that, although I am very sorry to anger you, I do not intend to be your slave. Or anyone's."

She addressed him another slow smile. (That was starting to get creepy.) "We shall see. You have something to ask of me, yes…? A little love story, I think?"

"… you know of it?"

"What do I not know?" She left the table, swimming over to him with long, white arms. "What a romance, don't you think? A handsome merman prince… a beautiful human princess… though I must say that I don't know what you find in such a common girl."

"… Hey."

"You wish to be human," she purred. "You wish to abandon your country, your people, your family, your friends, everything that you have loved. For a young, inexperienced girl, who knows nothing of you, and who lives in a land of which you know nothing, despite your acquiring so many human trinkets over the years. For a commonplace girl who might just never love you as much as you love her—"

Well, that certainly did put things in perspective for him. Any rational person would turn back right now, Kaito thought vaguely, in the snare of her voice and her arms and her hair. Any rational person would never think twice of it—

He could not remember any instance of his life during which he may have been in any way rational. And if this was the only way—

"I do wish to obtain human legs," he said calmly, and she seemed to shrink away. "Can you get these for me?"

She drifted from him back to the table. "I can. There will be conditions, however. And there will be a price."

Kaito hesitated only for a second. "Explain."

"… very well. I can, and will if you insist, give you human legs. But it will not be an agreeable condition for you. You have never walked in your life, only swum. You know nothing about the human ways, and so you will risk blundering at any given moment. You will have to feign amnesia to avoid any delicate questions. I can only imagine what life you will live there."

"Are these your terms?"

"Why, no—I am only telling you what you will have to face of your own will. Now then, for my conditions. I will give you human legs for exactly three days from midnight next. On midnight of the third day, the delay will be expired. In that span of time, you must get your princess to kiss you—a kiss of love, mind you, and not a stolen kiss—in order to keep these legs of yours."

Kaito's eyes narrowed at her. "And if she doesn't?"

"Then you will belong to me, and only me. You, the only merman who was not supposed to be my slave, shall become mine."

… Hmm. "How about payment?" he asked, if only to test her out.

She smiled. Creepily. "You are clever," she murmured. "Any other man would have thought this was enough payment not to worry about more."

Not any other man, he thought, thinking of his brothers and father, but he didn't really care. "Well?" he insisted. "You do not intend to ask me my memories, or my mind, or anything that would make my wish impossible, would you?"

"Not impossible," she admitted. "Difficult, certainly. I want your voice."

"… how exactly am I supposed to win that girl's heart without my voice?" he asked, defiantly.

"Why, you are quite a charming young man," she slurred at him. "Without or without legs, she might very well fall for you at first sight, and I am fairly certain you could manage to seduce her without speaking a word, so why bother speaking it at all?" Her grin wasn't happy, but somehow slipping in between complete genius and batshit insane. "Besides, if I am correctly informed, that young woman is soon to be engaged with a man she dislikes. I think that falling in love with anyone else would be quite helpful to her."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, but she did have a point. "These are your terms?"

"Take it or leave it," she replied amiably.

He hesitated only for a second more–Shinichi, Heiji, his father, his mother, Jii-chan–and then nodded. "I accept, then."

"Done!" Her delighted squeal echoed over the walls and she instantly drifted back to him with a written contract and a shark's scale. Kaito signed quickly, eager to get this over with­—the night was certainly long fallen up at the surface, and midnight probably loomed close—

"You have agreed on my terms," Akako said, swimming away with the contract, quite imperiously. "I will now take payment." She marked a dramatic pause. "Sing!"

Kaito arched an eyebrow. "You sure you want me to do that?" he asked.

-o-

When Jii-chan arrived, it was way too late to salvage anything.

-o-

This was originally planned as a oneshot. Then it developed into a twoshot. Now I'm pretty sure it'll have a lengthy omake, too. Ah well. *shrugs* More should come in a week or so, maybe a little longer. Cookies, anyone?