mild nudity, slight gore T/M rating
Hirose Hisa is a microbiologist at the University of Tokyo and also a mermaid yokai old as balls well onto her hundreth human identity. On search for a valuable ingredient to stave off her friend's parasite shrub infection, she comes back to the territory her kind really shouldn't approach. She tells herself that the interest in the mysterious visitor to the cave stems purely out of scientific curiosity but it's hardly a meet-cute when they finally meet face to face.
Bubbles are forming and breaking where Hisa hides, submerged in the water up to her eyes. She listens to the water dripping from above – in the silence sparsely punctuted by the occasional trill neither she nor the yokai move.
They're here again, she thinks, annoyed, but her thoughts halt to a stop, eyes gliding over their back. It's not particurly broad but the demon seems very tall, with a long, graceful neck. Her tail end twitches with interest and she plants it firmly into the sand, for fear of disturbing the water should she get even more excited than this.
The yokai wears a bathing robe and Hisa reasons to herself that she's gonna observe him a while longer – strictly for science. The seaweed she'd harvested for Ane tickles her palms and she balances on the thick, rubbery fins, trying to get a better look.
Should I swim closer? She obviously shouldn't and so she does, propping herself up on the minute movements of her tail fin spikes. Left one, right one – it was like tiptoeing, a winding, scaly tail notwithstanding.
Another person in her hideaway – suddenly scary but also weirdly exciting. Humanoid yokai were few and between and the ningyo is burning with curiosity – were they carbon-based after all or otherwise structured to assume a solid shape? Or were they some other state of matter? Would they bleed? How did she switched between worlds and didn't disintegrate? Would she ever be able to publish that piece of research in mundane world?
The outcropping where she draws up to is rugged, supporting Hisa's weight as she flattens herself over, resting her palms on the ribbed expanse. She allows the water to bear her weight, tail stretched far behind and relaxed in the gentle currents. Like a sea anemone…
From there she sees their slightly flushed skin, picks up a more or less masculine aura and wonders what's the point of changing forms if it'd turned out to be just a ruse. Yokai have no overt need for gender and this one fluctuates at the edges as it is. Hisa is used to the strict duality humanity still clings to and wonders - why resemble a human here, why assume a gender even? Along what lines to begin with? Her tail twitches in interest but then her eyes widen - she finally takes in every scar dotting his back and her face falls.
Deep in thought, she turns her head gently, looks at her own tail where grooves reveal tender flesh peeking from between the hardened scales. That strange boiling whirlpool deep within the underwater tunnel had somehow stopped the infection and even made the older scars start healing again – could it be that he came here for the similar reason? Could he even reach that place? She saw no fins, no tail – but then she didn't wear hers all the time as well. Could he be aquatic in nature?
This thought chills her momentarily, and Hisa contemplates withdrawing quietly. But then she observes more closely – and notices he wears his hair in a peculiar way. It looks like feathers, like she was looking at a bird-
Ah.
Hisa lets out a breath she hopes he wouldn't notice and concentrates on deep, calm breathing, mindful of her heart fluttering in anxiety. Perhaps all this was a bad idea but lots of interesting breakthrough she made by following exactly those.
The water in the shallow pool he is resting in is scorching hot, Hisa knows, because not long ago she herself had coiled up snugly in there. She was planning to take this spot herself for a quick nap, before going back to mundane world – no such luck anymore. The seaweed would become this more difficult to harvest as well if he made habit of showing up…
For years she'd been wondering what kind of creatures those powerful demons from within the moat were - to remain in a humanoid form this close to the volcano base…
She listens to his breathing and wonders if she should retreat before he wakes up. She wants to see a glimpse of his face though – and check for herself if all this being creepy was worth it. It probably isn't regardless whether she finds him her type or not. Their species belong firmly on the other sides of the moat, so to say.
It's unclear if it is her tail that made one splash too irregular or just on his own volition, but with a jerk, the demon whips his head to the side, to see-
Nothing. Hisa is already under water, a fistful of seaweed pressed against her frantically beating heart. Goosebumps litter her naked skin, from the forearms to her bare chest. Yup, she didn't see a reason to wear a bikini made from sea shells for water scorpions and woodlouse-
He does look somewhat attractive, if very severe but right now Hisa's mind is mostly on retreat. She thinks of switching into her semi-gelatinous state, to better hide and quietly inch towards the tunnel, but that takes energy best conserved to making the trek through sealed caves in the mundane world – didn't want to risk swimming there in human form, without the boiler suit to begin with.
The woman is glued to the rock as much as it allows her and concentrates on the subtle movement of water, clueing her in to every movement he might've be making. It's because he leaves the water and disturbs it that Hisa knows he's moving – she feels the change behind her, sees splinters of a silhoutte reflecting on the ebbing water overhead. The image glitters, obfuscated in the otherworldy glow that alights the cave ceiling.
Golden spots dance on the water and Hisa concentrates, coiling her tail and gearing up to swim to the other side in as few powerful movements as possible. Her scales are grating against the limestone and no sounds can reach her. She's decided-
Something heavy lands on her arm, then on a second one, and it pins her to the outcrop, the water devoid of oxygen even further and dead still. It's like black ink got spilled around her – and Hisa feels she needs to breathe, up over the water.
Her nails dig into the hands that caught her, long talons piercing the illusory flesh but only freeing even more of that inky blackness swallowing them both. More important than how he does this (that pops up in her head first, between the dizzyness and the feeling of his own morphed hands digging into her collarbones) but how to get away and Hisa thrashes, feels his palms slip on her wet skin and bites, hard – aiming not for the humanoid but the very demonic essence. That's what the legends said about her kind – and she was sure the land yokai remembered how they could feed.
She is free for a blessed second and whips back, pushing herself from the rock and adding a slap of her tail end to his face for a good measure. It further shreds his humanoid layer – his face is half a blackened flame, only second eye visible.
Her tail can grow longer, the yokai quickly learns as it coils around his body with the second strike, slower and heavier with every second that his peculiar ability is working. He's paralyzing her, Hisa learns on her part but pulls him into the water still, hand on his neck and her own demonic miasma seeping from between the burnished scales and flowing around them wildly.
They're breathing heavily, humanoid forms suddenly costly in the heavy air around yokai tries to change but they seem to cancel each other out – none capable of accessing the more powerful form.
A pair of angry eyes glares at her as they come face to face. Hisa's body binds him but becomes numb, and heavy. Anymore and they will drop back further into the water – and go down together because there is no way she's letting this one go before he lets her go first.
"I'm taking you with me", she pants, neck-deep into the water, observing as the man squints with salty water spraying in his eyes. She's losing balance – the paralysis progresses and he has enough preservation isntinct to keep her head over the water, another hand on her back, just where her human skin begins. Her chest slides against the cotton of his robe, head lolling to the side. Assisted suicide was not how she planned to end this semester.
"Unhand me", she hears him hiss and merely snaps her teeth at him – and he adds in a stunted tone "You will be tried fairly". Maybe it's because of the teeth. He looks as out of breath as somebody without actual solid body can look like.
Her tail moves against him minutely, organically. The scales scrunch sickeningly and they both know the corrugated tips will probably leave parts of his robe in tatters. Hisa fails to care – she wishes for that sea shell bikini however, with this proximity.
Light breaks into glittery shards onto the water and blicks of light dance on their faces – it catches Hisa attention and a dizzy smile splits her lips – the flesh there still hasn't fully mended after threatening the man who holds her. He probably regrets jumping her this way. Hopefuly. Could jump her some other way, Hisa thinks, white swallowing her vision with every second.
"Do you intend to die so foolishly?". His tone is desperate, but it comes from somewhere afar and Hisa struggles to make out his face. She mustn't let his body go – it's her only chance he'll let her go in turn.
Let me breathe freely, she gestures to her throat, head almost submerged at this point. Hisa's hair is long, it gets into her eyes and undulates around her body, small breasts peeking through the pearly strands but invisible amid all the miasma coalescing around them. At this point she honestly doesn't care anyway.
His long fingers cup her face so water doesn't get into her lungs and she doesn't drown, and it'd be almost tender if her own hands didn't threaten to gouge his eyes out where they were gripping his face in turn.
He sighs heavily and the paralysis begins to subside. Hisa's eyes shot open and she takes a shaky breath. One, two. I should kill you, she thinks but unbinds the dmeon and leaps back with a start, eyes squinting in pain and shock. It's been a while since she's actually confronted anyone hostile. Years, actually.
She just wanted to live in peace, tend to her garden and bake some pies. Definitely help Ane recover and see her flourish again. Always house some chickens in her hair and in the pockets of her dress. Get her best student a tenure. Maybe publish some more. Maybe get a Nobel Prize-
They both take a second to gather their bearings – the yokai is rigid against the rock where they clashed, his robe barely holding around his waist. Doesn't matter since almost half of his body is just black cloud, twisting and fluctuating into something he's too spent to fully attain.
The ningyo doesn't waste any time and discreetly feels the cracked walls of the spring with her fins, trying both not to alert him to what she's doing and also find the way where seaweed part and the rock opens to an underwater tunnel she came from. Swim some mile and a half and you get to this strange, boling hot whirlpool that took her here the first time. A portal to the mundane world…
"Who are you…?", the yokai asks, again imperious and as she looks on, parts of his body seemingly soldify again, along with those parts of his robe she tore off. Pity, Hisa thinks. She ignores the question, eyes following his every movement instead. Just a little bit more… The hairy greenery gives way and her tail slips into a current of scorching hot water then – that's it!
An idle smile dances on her lips then, anticipation building in and warming her from within. She'll be free in just one moment. One strong jump and she's on her way home, where he couldn't follow.
The water grows placid between them – her tails falls into the sand in gentle rings, resting before the final leap. Might as well indulge the man across her. He's backed onto the rocky bank, his long legs still partly in the water. She could snatch him by the ankle if he as much as hooted but they were in a standstill now.
"You talked about the trial, why? Did I break the law somehow? Is this spring off limits?". She knows that she had, to be honest. They're somewhere nearby the volcano base. Rumours, both in the mundane and underworld - and even in their old lagoon some few hundred miles away from here – spoke of the chief demon that bore on her back the weight of protecting this place from the dangers outside. At one point her kin constituted the danger, she nonchalantly remembers. But those issues are far beyond her interests, now just like before.
"You must think that I'm off to… some nefarious undertakings", she continues conversationally, observing his movements as he seems to contemplate what next to do, all the while returning the scrutiny. His eyes bore into her unwaveringly and Hisa thinks that there has to be some meaning to the sigil he wears on the back of his robe – an eye that never rests. An official perhaps?
He dips his hands into the water as if to test its temperature and Hisa startles minutely. His fngers are long and elegant and it's both an exciting fantasy and pointless exercise of imagination to wonder how they'd feel in a caress instead of an attempt at her life-
"I see what you're doing", she observes with a swish of her tail, a thick coil sent over the water, straightening out in his direction. It's both a reminder and a warning. He answers with a subtle shrug – he does have a job of arresting her after all.
"You kind doesn't belong here", he supplies, eyes narrowing into slits. "There's not enough water to support you, nor any food to subsist without killing. So I-". He lifts his sight from the water, where a fin splashes dangerously close to him and backs a little into the bedrock. His eyes are the colour of fig fruit flesh, ripened in the late summer. "-I have no choice but to treat you as a hostile presence".
She realizes those inky tendrils are inching closer to her and will tickle her stomach any second now and gives a powerful whip of her tail where it's the strongest, disturbing the water till it looks like it's boiling, dispersing and burying that noxious essence deep below. The corners of his lips dip down even further in a grimace.
"It was purely recreational, my visit here. By mistake, really", Hisa offers cheekily, tired but also not really keen to be seen as an invading species or something. She just needs the weed, that's all. Another whip and he's drenched in the salty water till she can see the material of his robe clinging like a loose layer of second skin. His hair once again goes down in a sleek cascade.
The yokai looks unimpressed, patiently waiting till the water would become still again – those same black tendrils rise around his body, perhaps finally strong enough to show her his other form…
"Recreational?", he echoes. "Recreational", he follows mildly, in quiet disbelief. It's like in his line of work people don't even attempt this kind of innocent lies anymore.
"Medicinal, also", Hisa adds and waves a clump of seaweed at him she since then has torn from the wall – the ones she'd been clutching onto so valiantly before spilled somewhere between her tearing his clothes off and almost drowning.
The ningyo beats her tail on the rock like a bored cat but her eyes never leave his. She's been bored and alone for a long time. Too long if she prefers to chat with a hostile yokai insted of an colleague from her department. Sad!
The demon's brows shoot high at that and he links his fingers together as if on cue. He looks like a stern head of department of - oh wait, that was her. She was grilling her seminar groups like that.
"So you wish to tell me you appeared here by mistake? Is that it?". Forgive me for finding this utterly ridiculous, his grimace supplies and Hisa finds herself smitten. Time to go then, she thinks in panic. She really hates to end this encounter on a sour note – but he wants to arrest her and she finds him increasingly attractive and those things don't mix well. Alas, maybe he will find her knowledge useful.
"The very first time", she says carefuly, watching his glare darken. He hadn't felt her the first time, good for her to ruin this. For now she lifts her tail again and sends it gently to his side, this time in a manner she hopes will get his proper attention. He sees the burnished scales and their rugged tips, notices the thick scars and very visibly backs down. It looks like he wants to burst into his other form and just smother her to death but thinks better of it.
"You're infected", he drawls, somewhere between a question and a statement. He's fully out of water now, rising gracefully to stand. Hisa feels her pulse quicken. Would he even try and believe her? But if it could help at least stave off the sympotms…She saw no need to hoard the knowledge to herself.
"Were", she attempts to shrug nonchalantly and notices him stop dead in his tracks where he is stalking the water's edge. He actually scoffs at her. "Don't be ridiculous".
Ehh. No reason to prolong this anymore, Hisa thinks dejectedly and steals a tired glance at the fuming demon across the water.
"Look, do with this whatever you want. To my knowledge the infection reverted. I don't know how" – and she's actually lying now, because she knows it regressed after she had almost boiled alive and came through the portal here. But he has no way of ever utilizing this method and she wants to give him the next best thing or rather the only other available choice.
"But I experimented with the seaweed I've found here…", she adds, a tip of her tail already in the tunnel. He seems at least a bit preoccupied with his own indignation and maybe she will be able to leap into the tunnel without giving him the lethal idea of sending anyone after her…
"It does stop the infection, if only for a portion of time". He notices she's inching back and lifts his hand to gesture for her to halt but Hisa has already made up her mind, one palm on the limeston wall above the tunnel.
"You can process it into poultice. In moderately severe instances it will slow down the progress, potentially for long stretches of time". She thinks of Ane, submerged in a tank in her lab, coiled into a tight, anxious ball, scales whitening with each passing day and going back to somewhat better, ashen colour every time she applied the mixture.
That's priority here Hisa knows. With a flick of her tail she's gone, leaving the Executive stock still on a rugged bedrock, a long scale, hard as diamond though crumbled - embedded deeply into his palm.