A Jeanmarco fanfic.
I'm actually diving into the jeanmarco fandom especially since Jean is my favorite. :3
I'm also working on my other fics so don't worry!
Against the roaring currents, it was obvious that the ship already lost itself to the ocean, getting tossed around like it was a mere child's toy.
An eerie fog was casted heavily over the eyes of the seafarers aboard the meager ship, folding layer upon layer like a drenched blanket. Above, the former blue skies deadened down into an unhealthy grey, multiple rolls of thunder and lightning flickering across and often thrashing down upon them. The raging ocean tempted the boat sideways and over, rocking it mercilessly and dangerously.
Aghast, a merchant, most likely the reigning client aboard, scowled angrily as his body clutched tight onto the main mast. "Forget the ship! If any merchandise of mine is lost, I'll dock yer pay and ruin yer life!"
Although it wasn't right to challenge the weather, the shipmen moved from their spots and onto their feet, rushing out like dead men for the crates sliding precariously upon the deck. Already, more than a few crates—those that contained fruit and cloth—had already fallen into the mouth of the ocean, sparking more raging demands from the merchant to work at a faster pace. The goods—the crates—were transferred as swiftly as possible, and with little respect and gentleness, into the inner cargo hold located in the basement of the ship, joining the crates that contained the more valuable merchandise.
All of the crates were tossed down into the cargo hold with no respect or consideration for the value that they held, crashing unceremoniously onto the wet floor and even getting broken open from the impact. Apples had rolled out of one of the crates and into a small puddle of water that dripped from the ceiling.
At the sight of it, a small, young boy quickly scampered out from behind one of the larger crates standing in the corner. The dark-haired boy, laden with small freckles and dirt on his cheeks and looking no older than ten years old, dived for the succulent fruit drenched in rainwater, gingerly picking it out of the puddle and then wiping its surface lightly with the ripped him of his shirt. A small twinkle of obvious delight sparkled in his eyes as he held the fruit up against the lowly light with a sort of reverence, marveling at its glistening red surface.
"An apple!" The boy—Marco—cried out in delirious enjoyment, showing nothing but a toothy grin. "I haven't eaten one of these in a looong time!" Almost immediately, Marco chomped down onto the apple, letting lose a sweeping crunch as he slurped out its juices happily.
All of a sudden, however, a loud string of curses and yells of frustration rang out the moment, forcing Marco to delay himself another bite just so he could hurriedly scamper back towards his former hiding place behind the crates. A few more crewmen suddenly wretched the door leading into the hold wide open, wrestling down another, more heavier-sounding, crate and then throwing it down.
As the crate fell down in the room with a loud thud, it had also squashed over the apples that had escaped out, a squelching noise sounding out. The shipmen left with grumbles under their breaths, stomping up the staircase and slamming the door behind them. As soon as the coast was clear, Marco slipped back out from hiding and then sat himself next to the crate that had toppled over the one filled with apples.
The movement of the ship had shifted its position, stoning down entrance into the apple-crate like it was a guard. He heaved and pushed down on the heavier crate with hope but it was really no use. There must have bricks or something inside because it wouldn't even budge an inch to his efforts.
Although a bit reluctant, Marco left it to roam around the cargo hold with the hope of spotting another opened crate, hopefully one that contained more food. Matching the roars of the sea, his stomach grumbled loudly with painful aches, making Marco wish that he could find one.
Alas, none had caught his eye, and though it saddened him for a moment, Marco shook it off and resumed his concentration on finishing the apple in his hand. The floor was slicked wet, damping his ragged clothes as he sat himself down and leaned against an open spot on the wall. His sunken cheeks plumped with each bite that he took; the smile on his lips fattening into a wide one as he ate.
After he finished, he gently placed the remaining core onto the floor, making a mental note to throw it out later if he ever got the chance. Then, he reached down for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, wiping off the leftover apple juices that dripped down his chin.
The cargo hold was wet and cold and so was he—all of his hair slicked and sticking onto his pruned forehead. There wasn't much light either; the only beacon of light coming from an old light bulb tied to a string from the low ceiling. As Marco tucked in his legs close to his chest, hugging himself for warmth, he looked around with low-lidded eyes, feeling the hunger pangs coming back to him.
An apple a day kept the doctor away, so they said, but it wasn't enough to relieve the strikes of hunger that echoed within him.
Grabbing at his stomach, Marco lifted his gaze and swept it around the hold, scrunching his wet, reddened nose.
He came aboard the ship by accident, or maybe it was intentional. He left his former home, a street of slums, all because he had overheard a group of drunken sailors roaring off about the riches waiting beyond the seas. There was nothing to excuse what he'd done—he entered a world knowing nothing and owning nothing but the shirt off his back. To make it even worse, he's a thief, stealing from someone else because of a mistake he'd done.
"Just how far am I from home?" A bit mournful, Marco sighed, rubbing at the back of his head and looking slightly frantic.
If he happened to turn himself in, the possibilities of getting back home safe and sound weren't really bright—especially for a peasant like him.
"Hah? Is that a rat?!"
The accusation sounded far too close for comfort.
A crewman had down when he'd least expected—when he'd been completely buried in his thoughts. There was a look of disgust on the man's face—a man with a belly protruding out and a stumpy-looking expression—and Marco knew that look all too well to know what usually followed afterwards.
"I—" Marco started, holding both of his hands up in defense and backing away from the enraged man. "Please! Don't be angry—"
Another second later, a bunch of footsteps stomping down to the hold echoed from the outside, and almost immediately, the merchant had followed inside. There was a bout of silence at first as the merchant stared down at him, flickered his eyes somewhere, and then opened his mouth in fury.
"The boy's been eating at my merchandise!"
"No! I've only eaten one, I promise!"
"Grab him!"
Alas, in a world so cruel, Marco felt himself hauled up into the air by the scruff of his first, forcibly dangled by a rough grip that choked harder than a noose. He struggled, small, bony fingers beating at the man's to release him while his feet tried to kick anyone down. There was a lot of shuffling, a lot of movement as they dragged him along the floorboards from out of the cargo hold, but Marco had squeezed his eyes shut while gripping at his head.
In the next moment, there was the roaring sound of waves not too far off and the sound of bullets drumming against wood. When Marco opened his eyes and titled his head up, he saw a storm, clashes of thunder striking across a deadly grey sky as flickers of yellow, powerful and mystifying. Already drenched, rain poured down on him like a new layer of skin, feeling so surreal and tingling his nerves into an odd frenzy as he was brought out into the open deck.
They tossed him aside like a ragdoll, forcibly making him tumble across the deck onto his face—absolutely no respect to his worth.
As Marco pushed himself up, everything made clear sense to him.
There was no use in treating street trash humanely, compassionately, like he had much to his name.
The deck was nearly empty except for a few remaining crewmen, clad in their grey-stoned raincoats, as they sat to the sides under the pouring rain, nearly dead in their gazes with the exception of resentment pointed to him. And it began—taunts and anger yelled at him for putting more stress on their shoulders, for the docking their pay at the cost of one apple, and one that wasn't even the ripest.
As soon as Marco found the right moment, he tried to scramble away from everyone, slipping across the desk and only getting himself caught into the hands of one of the crewmen in the end. Again, he was hauled up by the front of his shirt and held so close that he could see the cloud of air forming from the man's breath.
A flash of lightning struck out, and Marco eye's snapped wide open, fear crossing his irises.
"I'm sorry," he found himself stammering, awestruck by what was happening. "I-I'll pay. I'll work, just please." He croaked, throat constricting slightly in pain as he breathed.
The rain fell harshly, the ocean currents crashing against each other and splashing salt water aboard. Marco wasn't sure if was crying or not. The crewman that held him up turned towards the merchant; there was a lot of a talk, a lot of mumbling that Marco couldn't hear, but it hadn't mattered since none of it sounded so good. Everything was painful.
"I'll keep him."
And that statement alone was all it took for Marco's eyes to glide toward the merchant, for his breath to be taken away from his throat and replaced with something warm. There was no way to guess it, but if the man meant what he meant, then maybe the world wasn't as cruel as he thought.
"The boy's all skin and bones," The merchant chided before finishing with a thoughtful appearance. "But I'm sure that I can still fetch a sale."
The breath that he lost punched back into his chest just as fast as it had gone, quick and unsuspecting—numbingly. A painful feeling ripped through him almost as if someone had stabbed at his heart, piercing where it hurt the most.
"What," Marco breathed, silent and raspy, as his hands from grabbing at the hands that clutched him down to his sides. There was horror and greed as the merchant eyed him and ordered the crewman to tie him down, witnessing them laugh like he was nothing but a silent corpse. "No," he whispered faintly, feeling himself fall limp and willing.
"No, please!"
Marco screamed and struggled, flailing around as they grabbed at his arms to hold him down.
"Tie his mouth too!"
They tied a cloth around his mouth, forcing him choke down and gag, all of his cries becoming suddenly muffled. Tears ran down his cheeks, mixing in with the raindrops that continued to pour down onto him.
No one ever bothered to even bat an eyelash in their direction—them, the people from the slums, the peasants. There were times when Marco had seen children cry, questioning their very existence as a human—if anyone cared about them.
Life in the slums wasn't joyous, nor was it a humble lifestyle he'd come to accept. It was the very reason why he'd hitchhiked onto a ship, to take him to a better life—to look for anyone who could make him happy and alive.
Maybe no one cared in this life.
Maybe, just maybe, in another life or perhaps in the next, there was someone who'd actually fall to their knees for his sake, someone who would repeat his name with a tone that actually meant that they cared and acknowledged his existence.
Just not in this life; in the next or in a thousand more, there should be someone who cared.
All of a sudden, as Marco felt them settle his limp, unmoving body in place against the mast, his tear-stained eyes looked forward, and for the first time since the trip, he found himself overwhelmed with shock and surprise. The ocean was wide and fast, and it surprised him that he'd been traveling over such a big place all the time.
The sight of it felt like a dream, one where Marco hadn't even fought against the men grabbing at his arms and pulling them behind his back.
And then the impossible happened.
A bolt of lightning struck down at the ship, running down the mast and flowing through the floorboards. It certainly caught a great number of the nearby crewman off-guard, zapping at a few of the unlucky ones. Marco was one of them, getting thrown off his feet and face-first onto the deck, slightly buzzed but not as hurt as the ones that twitched from the impact.
He groaned, arms bound by a rope behind his back as he tried to push himself to sit.
As his gaze ran dizzily, eyes and expression pulled in a daze, all he saw was the ocean right in front of him, dark blue and frightening in its matter.
And in that moment, a sudden look of enlightenment flickered across Marco's eyes, something that spoke volumes to him in a language that could and could not understand. It caused his throat to constrict tightly as he gulped, running dry at the sight of the ocean.
The crewmen were getting up; at least, as far he could tell by the creeks of the floorboards and the grumbles falling from their mouths.
Marco had no clue what came over, no idea what compelled him to stand and for his toes to curl against the water-slicked deck. He had no idea where the rush of adrenaline came from, but he felt it surge, flow like a river through his veins and forced him forward.
All of it seemed unreal as his feet pounded against the floor in quick footsteps, one of the other, scrambling forward to an ocean that somehow seemed more welcoming than the treatment he'd received. He heard his beating heart drumming in his chest, seemingly unreal like the ghost stories that were passed down in the slums. A multitude of raindrops fell on his shoulders, radiating like stars as they splashed down onto earth with no care in the world while he ran for the sea. He felt free, rendered by the adrenaline, the need in his bones for something, anything else than what he had now.
His feet left the deck and he jumped out to the open wild beast called the ocean, into its mouth while keeping breathless and enticed by its charm. The ocean was cold, unforgiving to his senses and swallowing him whole as he fell in deeper.
But it was alright—this, he could handle.
The cold never bothered him much anyways. In fact, for the first time in his life, it felt so welcoming, almost as if things were finally let go from his shoulders.
He finally got to know how good it felt to just float under sea blue skies.
Things always slowed down whenever it rained. Most mermaids preferred to stay at home in their caves rather go out for a swim because rainy weather always felt like a good time to sleep in.
And that had also been Jean Kirschtein's initial plan—to cuddle down with some soft seaweed on a nice bed of coral. After all, tomorrow was the first official day for all young mermaids to be taught how to hunt and kill, so he especially needed to get a lot of rest.
"Jean, c'mon!"
That being said, Jean had no idea why he was swimming after Connie Springer, a young merboy with a light-blue tail.
Jean scowled, "Connie! Hey, Connie!"
In front of him, Connie slowed down, peering over his shoulder to look at Jean with a raised eyebrow and looking at him as if all he'd done was complain all day.
"Jean, you've been complaining the whole time. Could you, I don't know, stop?"
"I'm not complaining on purpose!"
"And screaming," Connie said, popping a finger into his eye with one of his eyes squinted. "You scream too much."
Jean seethed in annoyance, lips pulled into a scowling pout as he bit at his lips to stop himself from screaming. Taking in a deep breath and then releasing it, his lips inched into a twitchy grin.
"Connie," Jean started, his voicing sounding completely sugar-coated. "Just what are we doing?"
"Ship-knocking, what else?"
And in that moment, Jean Kirstein—a child merboy with a light, golden tail that certainly didn't match his frustration—exploded.
"Are you kidding me? Connie, it's raining!" Jean face-palmed himself as he swam back and forth in a short line. "The humans don't usually come out in the rain. And when they do, it's usually because they're hunting for fish. Don't you remember the adults telling us that?"
"Oh, right." Connie blinked, scratching at the back of his head. "I forgot about that."
Jean turned away from him, sighing once again. He really didn't know how Connie got him out of his cave but he did it, and here he was.
Alright, maybe part of the reason why he was on temper was because of the humans. If he had the guts to submit to humility, Jean would outright admit that humans kind of scared him. After all, he's heard stories about how mermaids are captured, the scales of their tails plucked piece by piece, or forced to be sold and remain as a living piece of furniture in the wealthier humans' homes. And whenever they played ship-knocking, it was always when they had one of the older mermaids watching over them, the ones that had experience in hunting and killing. Since it was just two of them, Jean had cold fins, especially since they weren't really that fast in swimming just yet.
He made sure Connie wasn't looking when he shuddered slightly, feeling his tail twitch awkwardly beneath him. As he turned back to Connie, he saw the blue-tailed merboy playing around with a small clownfish, one that seemed to be all by itself in this vast ocean.
Jean peered curiously. "Hey, Connie, where'd that guy come from?"
"Him?" Connie swam circles around the lone fish before stopping behind it, urging the fish towards Jean. "His name's Clo! He's been following me ever since we passed that last anemone. I think he likes me, so I'm keeping him!"
"Awesome. What are your parents gonna say?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be thinking of an excuse right now, would I?"
A bit calmer, Jean leaned back, observing both Connie and the clownfish. There are a lot of things that Jean wouldn't admit, and one of them would be that they looked to be a pretty good pair. For the most part, at least it kept Connie entertained. Not only was there barely much to do as a young mermaid, but things really did get quiet and slow whenever it rained — two things that completely contrasted Connie. In fact, maybe a lot of other merchildren were the same.
The biggest thing to look forward to in a young mermaid's life is the coming of age when they can finally learn how to hunt and kill. It finally meant that they could finally stop being defenseless against enemies and always so afraid. There were a lot of things that mermaids had to watch out for — other sea predators and humans, especially the humans.
There always restrictions and rules when it came to humans.
Don't swim near the shores or else get spotted by a human. Don't stray too close to a human's ship or else risk getting captured in their nets. Don't interact with humans or else get captured and sold — or even killed by them. A mermaid's life was always about being wary of humans first and foremost, never anything in between.
"Jean, look!"
Jean snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at Connie and then direction that he pointed towards, leaning back nervously after he did. There was ship out there—a human ship rocking erratically from side to side as if it would tip over. But it wasn't moving, and Jean could only guess that the storm must be so bad that the humans needed to stop.
"Alright!" Connie hollered out in glee, pumping a fist out. "It looks like we're going ship-knocking, Clo! Let's go!"
"Connie, wait!"
In one swift movement, Jean grabbed at Connie's tail before the merboy could even start swimming, holding him back as much as he could. Much to his relief, Connie had turned to look at him in bewilderment, allowing Jean to grab him by the shoulders and push themselves as far from the ship as was possible.
"Let's...not go ship-knocking today, alright?"
"Huh? Why not?"
"Don't laugh," Jean started, clicking his teeth in annoyance and turning his head to the side. "…Humans freak me out."
"Are you serious?" Connie asked, tossing Jean a look of bewilderment. His gaze switched from Clo and then onto him and then back again before he continued, "This coming from the guy that said humans are nothing but small fish?"
"I know, I know." Jean shook his head and began to swim past Connie. "Listen, let's just get going, alright? Tomorrow's the day we officially learn how to hunt, so we'll do ship-knocking with stupid Eren and the others afterwards and—"
"Jean, wait."
Jean felt Connie grab at his arm, stopping him. He turned around, first looking at Connie and then following the male's out-stretched hand and finger pointing towards the ship.
Leaning forward, Jean squinted his eyes. "What? It's the ship."
"No, look closer," Connie said, releasing his arm and then slowly beginning to inch forward. He continued to point his arm out, also squinting his eyes towards the direction of the ship. "There's something…there."
Although he felt a little doubtful, Jean tried again; this time, floating forward just to get a little bit closer. He followed the direction of Connie's finger, how it pointed to just below the ship, and as he did so, his eyes caught sight something unusual—something different—falling into the ocean. It looked like a dark blob, unmoving and unrealistic in an area so blue.
"Let's check it out!"
Connie swam forward — fast and excited.
"No, Connie!"
Panicked, Jean rushed after him, pushing himself through the water like a bullet. The clownfish was faithfully trailing behind Connie, swimming as fast as it could behind him.
Jean cursed to himself. If he remembered correctly what the adults had said, if what he learnt was true, then Connie was swimming towards a bomb — a weapon of mass destruction that humans used to kill fish faster.
They said that if even the smallest fish touched a bomb, everything around it would blow up into bits from heat and fire. Humans liked it because it killed the fish faster; mermaids hated it because it could kill them too.
As they came close, everything turned dark, the ship's large figure creating an equally big overshadow around them. Things also became much louder — the creak and roars from the ship valiantly competing with the drumming of the rain on its surface. A large school of small fish had strayed around the area, idly floating by under the dark shadows with no care for anything. Jean followed Connie through the school with ease and gulped, eyeing all of the fish. Even the smallest fish can incite an explosion; all it would take was one wrong move.
As he bit down on his lip, Jean brought his attention back onto Connie; however, after he had done so, it was much to his horror to find that Connie was just about to touch the supposed bomb.
"Connie, don't!"
The moment that Connie's hand touched the bomb, Jean felt like time had stopped. At first, he flinched, expecting everything to explode in his face and immediately killing him. However, when nothing happened even after a few seconds had passed and he opened his eyes to peek at what happened, it was then that his mouth dropped in shock. He saw Connie still alive and just floating there, unmoved and unlike his usual self. Jean found himself just aimlessly floating too, much like the fish around them. The only exception was that something he was preoccupied with something else.
What had fallen into the ocean looked nothing like a bomb. What had fallen into the ocean was nothing dangerous, but still dangerous at the same time. What had fallen into the ocean threw Jean's mind, senses, and everything that he knew into a frenzy.
Connie had the courage to speak up.
"It's a…" he started, not even bothering to look at Jean. "It's a human." He finished, sharply but incredulously. He swam closer, carefully reaching out to touch the human and blinked. "It's a tiny human, right? Humans can have babies too, right, Jean?"
Although Jean heard everything that Connie said, Jean couldn't find it in himself to answer. All of his focus was on the small human boy—a boy that looked to be no older than he was, a boy that looked nothing like the terrifying humans that he's thought about—floating peacefully in front of him. The dark-haired boy, gagged with some kind of wrap around his mouth, slept like there was no tomorrow. It threw him off.
"Hey, Jean, humans can't breathe underwater, right?"
Crap!
Jean had no clue what came over him in that next moment, but it happened. At a speed that he'd have no recollection of later, Jean swam forward like lightning, spooning the dark-haired boy into his arms and jetting himself up towards the surface—to the human's world. He felt nothing and saw nothing, blind to everything else but forward.
Jean pushed hard through the water, attempting to force through the gravity and the pressure that held him down. The boy shouldn't have been underwater for any longer than five minutes. If Jean could just make it out into the surface in time, then maybe, just maybe, the boy might survive.
The human felt a lot like a bag of skin and bones.
The effort to get the boy up to the surface took almost little to none.
The storm was still raging and the fog was still heavy by the time Jean appeared out of the water, popping up into the surface with the human boy in his arms. He tore the thing around the boy's mouth off, hoping that it would let the boy breathe.
The humans' ship was beginning to move, pushing through the waves and forcing Jean far from it.
"Hurry to land!"
That panicked Jean. He maneuvered the boy onto his back, struggling to stay afloat on the surface and making sure that the boy had access to air. That in itself freaked Jean a little though because there was nothing in the boy's chest, no heartbeat whatsoever. He wouldn't know what to do with a dead human, especially with one that looked like it wouldn't hurt a sea snail.
"Jean!"
Connie had popped up into the surface, shaking his head and shoulders to get the water and taking in a deep breath of air. He swam towards Jean.
"How's the human?!"
Jean shook his head, looking from between Connie to the ship that was already more than a few feet sailing away from them. "I don't know!" He looked back at the ship once more. "Do we follow the ship?! How do we get the humans' attention?! They're leaving without him!"
Those were the questions that neither had the answer to and the ones they didn't want to answer. They couldn't let the human die like this, but they couldn't let themselves get spotted by the humans either. There was just no way they could the boy onto the ship without them causing attention.
Jean was more than just in a state of panic — he was getting delirious. Out of all the mermaids in the world, between him and the older ones, the smart ones, the calmer ones, he had no idea why he was getting put with a responsibility like this. He never asked to save a human or interact with them. Those were things that shitheads like Eren or smarties like Armin would do. All he wanted to do in his life was live a glorified life as a knight in the sea, maybe even become a commander if he had enough ambition.
"Do you think we should give him some air?"
Connie asked, reaching out to grab the boy by the cheeks and leaning close to the mouth. After inhaling a mouthful of air, Connie leant in closer.
"Connie, no!" Jean brushed away from Connie, putting himself as a barrier between Connie and the boy on his back. He scowled, "You know we're not allowed to do that!"
"Then what do we do?!"
As if someone had been listening to them, a rumble had broken out, and almost by a miracle, things were starting to lighten up. The storm continued to rain harsh on them but it was getting better, allowing a lighter shade of grey to fill in over the darker. The overcast was also starting to lift, easing their unknowing blindness and allowing a small batch of sunlight to run through. And that was when Jean saw it.
He almost smacked himself in the face for even forgetting about it.
"Let's bring him to the island!"
There it was, in all its might glory, the great island of Clementia — the home of the humans. The island has been home to the great kingdom of Clementia for centuries, possibly as far as Jean's great-great ancestors. There were always ships coming to the island, all different sorts—merchant ships, fisherman ships, pirate ships, sailor ships, even that of the kingdom's royal fleet. Humans would have never known just close in proximity they were to the mythical creatures they told tales of — the mermaids of the sea, the vicious monsters that drowned men.
Although mermaids hardly ever interacted with the humans, a few do happen to come near the shallower waters, but only for the dirty reason of killing humans. Adults told merchildren that they shouldn't go to the island, mostly because they were inexperienced in the ability of protecting themselves. And even then, despite being experienced or strong, it was better for mermaids to just avoid the humans at all cost, no matter the incentive. The consequences of interaction could possibly be greater than one mermaid's death.
"Are we going to follow the ship?" Connie asked as Jean started to make his way to the island.
At this, Jean bit at his lip and shook his head. He made sure to secure the human on his back and leaned slightly forward. If the adults found out about what they were about to do, Jean could only guess that they'd get more than just a spanking.
"No, we're going somewhere else." Jean said, feeling strangely older-minded than the ten-year old that he was. "Armin told me about it."
The storm had finally calmed down and so did the ocean.
Jean swore that once he started training, he'd get stronger and improve himself in swimming faster. The sun was finally starting to set, illuminating the previously grey sky into a mellowed mix of orange, pink, and yellow. The waves were now gently crashing over each other, sloshing and swishing around them.
They came upon a small, open cove on a secluded side of the island. Armin had once secretly ventured out with Eren and came upon this place. He told Jean about it in secret, telling about how ships hardly came in this area because of all the rocks and boulders in the shallow area that made it impossible to get close.
As they came into the shallow depths, Jean found that Armin was right. There were plenty of rocks, pebbles, and boulders that stood out in the water, making it hard and too narrow to swim through. The human boy looked to be a mix of pale white and purple, a color combination that scared merchildren more than the frightening odd fish in the deepest depths of the ocean.
As Jean neared the shoreline, he pushed himself out of the water and onto the beach, feeling the weight of his tail pull him down. He huffed and panted hard; gravity was heavy and he had no idea how humans could get through it without falling down. But he didn't give up; Eren would laugh at him for not even having anymore strength to save one small human.
Connie chose to remain in the deeper, but still shallow portion close to the shore only because he had to stay near for Clo. The clownfish could only fare better off in deeper waters, so it had to remain back and Connie could only feel all the more guilty in leaving out his fish companion. Plus, if Clo tried to even come near shallow water, it'd only end up as bird food for the sea gulls and pelicans.
Jean pushed himself far onto the shore only as much as his tail could still reach the water. The sand felt grainy and soft against his stomach and tail, something that was a little different than the sand on the ocean floor.
Carefully, Jean slid the dark-haired boy off his back and onto the sand, laying him out as properly as he could get the boy. As soon as he had done so, Jean got a better look at him and never before had he felt such a wave of pity go through him for a human.
The boy was small and weak-looking, his cheeks so sunken in and hollow that it really made him look like nothing more than skin and bones. Dark circles were around the boy's eyes, making him appear so dead and lifeless. There was nothing else but skinny limbs, and it made Jean wonder if human children were supposed to look like this.
Even under the moonlight, the boy's appearance was given no justice.
The clothes that the boy wore weren't like the kinds that Jean normally saw on other humans on ships. They were torn and looked broken, ugly and disgusting. The ugliest fish in the ocean still beat the boy's clothes by a long shot, but Jean wouldn't be lying if he said they seemed to be a close second. And the boy's legs and feet—human limbs; the two things that differentiated humans from mermaids—they were like twigs. The bones could be clearly traced and outlined on the boy's legs; the feet were horribly calloused, and Jean could only think that his fish tail was better than something as damaged as the boy's feet.
Honestly. Were other humans supposed to look like this? If it's true, then why did so many mermaids wish that they could just like humans?
"Jean," Connie started in a soft, saddened whisper from behind him. "Is he dead?"
Another question that Jean—a mere merboy that hardly knew anything about humans—was forced upon. Why did he have to take care of a human? They had nothing to do with him. This one just fell into the ocean. Some humans do; some humans accidentally drown but it wasn't like mermaids had an obligation to save them.
But even so, here he was and here he saved a human. A reason wouldn't come to Jean—or rather, he didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to think that something—some odd feeling in his gut made him move, made him want to save this human boy that he hardly knew.
"I'm not sure," Jean answered, hating that he sounded so solemn. Droplets of water fell from his hair and onto the boy's face, making Jean hope for a moment that it wake the boy up.
It didn't.
There were few things that would make Jean cry, and it made him wonder why one of them had to because of a human boy.
"Don't die," Jean pleaded, reaching a hand out to caress the boy's face. "I don't know why but you can't die." Jean had no idea why he was saying the things that he said, but it seemed right. "Come on, kid. You have to wake up."
From behind, Connie felt something tear through his heart from seeing Jean like this. It almost seemed impossible. Just the other day Jean was tailing Mikasa and trying to get her attention, acting like the ocean belonged to him; now, he was crying over a human. The world was cruel and crazy.
Jean leaned an ear over the boy's chest, hearing nothing and feeling nothing. Agonized, he clenched his eyes shut, resting his head on the boy's light, bony chest.
"He's dead."
He was crying, and he didn't know why. He couldn't stop.
"Connie, the guy's gone." Jean sobbed. "He's gone!"
He cried on the boy's chest, softly beating at it out of a tearful rage. Anyone who knew him would say that he wasn't like his usual self. They would say that it was completely unlike him. They just wouldn't know that there was something about the humans that hurts, something that Jean couldn't let go. And he was only ten-years old; what would he know about anything like that? It just hurts that he did.
"Jean, Jean! That human's starting to move?! That's seriously freaky!"
Jean stopped for a moment, tears swelling out of his eyes. He managed to toss Connie a crazed look.
"…Connie, this guy's dead." He sniffed. "There's no way that—"
And that's when he felt it — a sudden movement underneath him.
Panicked, Jean flew off the human as fast as possible, splashing against the water, surprised and freaked out. The boy moved, even if it had been small.
Jean watched in slight horror as the boy coughed, water spewing out of the boy's mouth everywhere. As soon as the boy finished, he calmed down, unconsciously taking in a deep breath and curling to his side, arms being pillowed underneath his head.
At this point, Jean wanted nothing more than to go home now and curl on his coral bed, sleeping everything that's happened away.
He scowled. "What the heck?!" Turning to look at Connie behind him, Jean threw his hands out, pointing at the human. "What the hell happened?! I swore he was dead! Humans' hearts are in the same place as ours, right?!"
All of it was beyond Connie too.
"I don't know either, man." Connie shrugged. "During your whole crying thing, the guy started moving and I was just like, 'Whoa!" He leaned back, rubbing at his neck. "I guess he's alive now?"
"Fine. Great; but how?! I didn't do a thing! Honest!"
"I think I remember something about humans having gods too, I think?" Connie suggested, pointing up to the sky. "Except theirs live in the clouds or something. Anyways, they perform miracle stuff for the humans, so maybe that's it?"
Jean furrowed his eyebrows together. "They have a Poseidon in the clouds?"
"Man, I'm not sure. I wasn't paying attention in class."
Jean hadn't paid attention either.
As he looked at the human boy now curled up and was visibly breathing, Jean still didn't care as long as the boy was alive now. For all he knew, the humans could continue doing whatever they want. He still didn't care.
"Alright, the guy's alive, so now we could go home!" Connie chirped, slipping into deeper water and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Clo, I'm coming!" He shouted down at the water before peering over his shoulder. "Let's go, Jean! My parents are gonna kill me if I stay out any longer. I'm not gonna be able to ask if I can keep Clo if they're madder than King Neptune!"
Jean heard him clearly, and he didn't want that too. Clo was pretty fun to have around, and they still had to rest in time for hunting tomorrow. It wouldn't do well to be late on the first day.
Although those were things that Jean considered, for some reason, he still couldn't find it in himself to leave. The boy didn't look like the epitome of death anymore but he didn't look like the living either.
"Jean?"
"Yeah, I'm...," Jean said, starting to turn around to the water. His tail felt the coolness of the water and it reminded Jean that there was no need for him to stay with a human. He was a mermaid—one that needed to focus on being a great sea knight one day. He had no time for humans. "I'm…I'm coming…" He trailed off.
However, just as he was about to fully slip into the water, a sudden cry stopped him and when he looked behind him, he found that it was coming from the boy.
Jean watched as the boy's face contorted into something off discomfort, the boy's calloused feet rubbing together and making a light, scratchy sound. He continued to watch as the boy tried to curl into a ball as far he could, those bony arms hugging at the small frame of his body. The boy whimpered, crying out in pain and raspy breaths as if something were hurting him.
"I'm totally cool with it if you wanna stay with the human."
Connie said, grabbing Jean's attention. He shrugged, nonchalantly, and then crossed his fingers. "I'm not gonna tell anyone about this, alright? I swear, man. I'm not gonna squeal about you staying here."
Jean was at a loss for words, his mouth hanging low as he continued to look back from between the human and the ocean. He'd get in serious trouble for staying out late, and he had no doubt that he'd be late for hunting too. He wasn't even supposed to be this near a human. Connie had just touched the human boy once; Jean cried on the boy's chest.
"How come you're saying that?"
He tried to sound accusing; he tried to sound bratty.
He wasn't sure if it worked.
"It's just that you look like you really want to stay with him." Connie answered, looking more honest that he usually did. "Just do it."
Jean couldn't figure out why he felt like he just grew up all in one night. It wasn't even too long ago that he was freaking out over ship-knocking and getting close to humans. Now, he actually wanted to stay with one.
He brought himself back closer to the human, leaning down by his side and taking a closer look. There were these little dots on the boy's face, like little tiny grains of sand that got stuck onto his face permanently, and the moonlight really shined on them well.
The adults never said anything about humans having them, and Jean could only wonder what they were called. Hesitantly, Jean reached out and ran a few of his fingers on the human's face, watching as he shivered against his cold touch. Not many mermaids got the opportunity to get close to a human, live, and touch them. At this point, he was breaking more than just barriers as he saw the human boy suddenly ease and calm down once Jean began softly caress his hair.
"I'll stay here," Jean finally said. "I-I think he needs me."
"No problem, man. I'll come back here tomorrow." Connie said as he turned around to the ocean. "Bye, Jean."
"Yeah, bye," Jean replied almost breathlessly, all of his attention taken in by the human.
As soon as he heard a splash and a complete silence behind him, Jean gulped, trying to scowl.
"Listen here," Jean started, bringing himself closer to the boy. "I'm just staying here until you wake up, alright? So don't expect me to stay any longer than an hour or something." He carefully brought an arm over the boy and wrapped it around, spooning him. With a little concentration, he managed to focus himself in emitting his body heat to the boy. "Seriously," Jean nearly choked. "Just for a little bit."
As Jean laid himself down beside the human boy, he closed his eyes, thinking that Eren was probably right in always calling him stupid, because here he was, cuddling with a human.
The world really was crazy.
The sound of bird screeching stirred Marco awake.
"Mhm," he mumbled, scrunching his face as sunlight suddenly forced its way and lit up behind his eyelids. As soon as heard another bird screech, his eyes suddenly snapped wide open.
"Wha—!"
The moment he opened his eyes, a clear, blue sky was right in front of him, soft clouds swimmingly floating before him. The day seemed nice, naturally content and all the more soothing than the storm had been.
And that thought alone suddenly made him realize it.
"I'm alive," Marco croaked out, looking around. His body felt sluggish and heavy as if he's been fed rocks and stones for breakfast. He lifted his chin upwards and saw that behind him was a cliff.
Where on earth was he?
Thinking that it might be good for him to start looking around, Marco tried to move and found that he couldn't. And it was at that point that he decided to look at what held him down, and sure enough, it caught him by surprise.
A boy with brown hair and who looked to be about his age was hugging him down closely, sleeping peacefully and completely bare-chested. The boy's arms were wrapped around his body, and Marco could only think gratefully that the boy must have been keeping him warm the entire time.
The last thing Marco could remember was jumping into the ocean, escaping from a merchant that wanted to sell him off like he was rubbish.
Marco's eyes drooped as he leaned in close, reaching out to ruffle out at the boy's hair.
"Did you save me?" Marco asked softly, smiling at the boy. His smile turned into a lopsided grin. "Thank you so much!"
Unfortunately, the boy didn't wake up, still snoozing away. Marco guessed it'd be better to thank him later. He didn't think there was actually someone that cared enough to save him, but there was, and it was a boy that looked like he went through a lot to save him.
"Maybe I should go look for some fruit for him," Marco said, shifting around from underneath the boy's arm. Carefully, he grabbed it and placed it next to him. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have go somewhere for a bit. Just wait here, okay?" He said, still looking as eager as ever
However, the moment that Marco sat up, he saw something that was beyond him.
"Waaah!"
Frightened, Marco scrambled back, shoveling against the sand. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide as he stared down at the boy.
"A fish, a boy, a fish, a boy?" Marco's words were spilling out of his mouth just as fast his mind was trying to process everything. In front of him, the boy that was still sleeping looked nothing like a regular boy, at least in the most human aspect.
The boy, with a two-toned colored hair and looking to be about the same age as him, had half a body of human and the other half of a fish.
"A mermaid," Marco breathed out in amazement. Those were creatures that adults often told as stories to children — how mermaids had both the body of a human and a fish combined; how they can live underwater and breathe air; how they can drown a man like it was nothing.
And there was a real live one right in front of him. Most people would be frightened. Merchants and greedy people would want to kidnap him. They say that mermaids can be sold for millions.
"Amazing…" Marco started. He reached a hand out to touch at the mermaid boy's face, feeling his skin so soft and smooth. Marco looked at him fondly, again breathless. "You're so beautiful."
"I heard it from here! Is there someone there?!"
At the sound of human voices, Marco snapped his attention up to the cliff. There was a stone staircase that led up it, and from afar, he could vaguely see the shape of men, looking like soldiers, coming towards them. Marco panicked. If they caught sight of the mermaid, they might capture him.
In a hurry, Marco scrambled to the mermaid boy, immediately pushing his hands on him and shaking him away.
"Hurry, you have to wake up!" Marco cried out. "They're coming! Please wake up!"
"I see people on the beach! Halt! You're trespassing in private party! You're under arrest!"
Marco couldn't believe what was happening.
"Hurry and wake up!"
That seemed to have done it, because suddenly, the mermaid boy stirred. He looked every bit as normal as he had been sleeping, looking as if no one had stirred from his sleep.
"Hm?" the mermaid looked around, eyes still half-lidded.
"Excuse me, but you need to hurry and escape!"
All of a sudden, the mermaid boy looked like it had been caught red-handed as it looked over to where Marco was.
Marco, himself, lost everything that he had to say too, suddenly caught in silence as the mermaid fully acknowledged him. The mermaid was even more beautiful awake.
It was like he forgot what was happening. It was like he forgot that there were men about to arrest them in just that one moment. Maybe it was from all the ocean water that slipped into his mouth that made him delirious but Marco soon found himself dismissing the world around them.
"Hi," Marco started, trying to sound earnest. He peered curiously at the mermaid. "Did…Did you save me?" He reached a hand out.
That seemed to have shocked the mermaid, because almost immediately, it bounced back and away from Marco.
"Hold on! I'm not going to hurt you!"
But that was a loss plead, because just as fast as it had appeared in his life, the mermaid quickly jumped back into the ocean and swam off, quickly and unsuspecting.
"No, wait!" Marco stood up and screamed, rushing out into the water. "I'm sorry I scared you off! Please come back! Please—"
All of a sudden, Marco felt the same fear creep onto him as he was grabbed from behind, held up into the air, struggling. Two men had appeared behind him, sporting something of a royal crescent on their uniforms.
"Hah? How did a street rat come out here?" One of them had said, the one holding him up.
"Doesn't matter." The other sneered. "Trespassing is a serious crime around here, don't ya know that, kid?" The man said, leaning in close to Marco's face and giving off the scent of alcohol from his breath.
Marco cried out.
"Please," Marco sobbed. "Please come back and save me again, mermaid. I promise I won't hurt you."
"Mermaid?"
In an instant, both men howled out in laughter.
"Boy, there's no such thing as a mermaid!" They continued to laugh and mock. "You must have been drinking too much salt water!"
And Marco has — he fell into the ocean about to die, cold and alone, and believing that no one in the world cared to save him from a cruel, cruel life. But a mermaid did—a creature so close to being a human, but far from the horrific character that humans had. It saved him; he saved him.
There were stranger things in this world, things that shouldn't even exist—monsters, evil, nightmares, greed.
And that day, Marco decided that a mermaid was not one of them.
The world was crazy and cruel.