He had heard lore about merpeople, fisherman usually told it over a drink at the bar. Gon never knew what to believe, until now. Gon has been cruelly thrust from his awe of the beautiful creature. His flukes are stronger than any fish Gon has reeled in. Claws like harpoons pry at Gon's wrists to have him release the shell— which for whatever reason, he seems to be after. The boy rakes jagged cuts into Gon's arms, and he cries out as dark blood begins to trickle off his elbows. At his yell, the boy stops his assault, for whatever reason, and instead locks eyes with him: although, he still bears his pointy teeth. Gon's thoughts can't form. The divide between the boy's iris and the ocean blue of his eyes bears thin.

"Give it to me." Something defiant in Gon arises at the order. His wrists are squeezed, but through the pain, he holds the shell tighter than ever.

"No."

He expects to be maimed further, maybe killed. Instead, a desperation overcomes the boy's face. It doesn't last, though. Gon takes his chance.

With both of his feet, Gon kicks the boy off of him. Caught off guard, the merboy flails and falls into the shallow water of the tidepool. Gon runs up the beach, holding his torn-up arms, the saltwater on his palms make his arms sting like hell. Pulse strong in his ears, Gon turns back, and sees him: his expression is so… crestfallen. The way the ocean must feel on a moonless night.

Gon's legs give out under him, and before he hits the sand, the boy has already dove back beneath the waves.

As the morning stretches on, his arms stop bleeding, but not his heart. Gon can't think of anything else but the boy and that look. He tries to busy his body instead of his mind: like gathering mussels that got stranded in the low tide. They'll go great with his breakfast of fish left over from the night before. However, none of his tasks distract him from the sadness and hopelessness he saw on the boy with the fish tail.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he overcooks the mussels, and they turn out like tire rubber. It's fine, though, it gives him something to mindlessly gnaw on. The fire crackles over the dry driftwood, and and salty smoke scatters the seagulls that come too close.

It's confusing why he feels guilty for not giving the boy the shell, and saving himself. He looks at the scallop shell under the scrutiny of the firelight. It looks ordinary. Pretty, but it's nothing special.

Or maybe it is. Gon doesn't know, either way. Mito tells him guilt is a powerful thing— and that's why he wants to see the boy again. Maybe, it could have to do with the fact that the boy is fucking gorgeous, or maybe not. Gon's face burns a bit. It's simple-minded of him: guess being attacked by them doesn't matter that much.

He puts out the fire and kicks the empty mussel shells beneath the sand. When he heads towards the waterline again, Gon can see the seagulls swoop for them in his peripheral vision. They're not picky birds.

It is a strange day in July. He begins scouring the beach, looking for another glimpse of the creature that attacked him that morning. After a while with no luck, he picks up three stones, ones that had been smoothed out by the sea. Bored, and now frustrated, he throws with all his might, but the third stone comes skipping back. Gon stumbles. He must have imagined seeing that large fluke under the water. It twisted with rainbow colors as it volleyed the stone back to him.

There's a shimmer beneath the waves. A face with eyes somehow bluer than the water crests the surface. Gon's heart beats fast. From the sandspit, Gon catches his eye shyly. He sits so close to the water that the surf kisses his toes. Gon stretches his hand, the one holding the shell, out in his direction. Maybe I do want to give this to you. Rolling the shell between his fingers, all the angry gashes in Gon's arms point to where he holds it. Hopefully he understands: Gon doesn't want to ruin this with words.

Why do I want you to get closer, even when you tore me to shreds a few hours ago?

The boy dives under the water, and Gon's heart drops to the sand. Then, his heart leaps again when he sees he's swimming closer, he's not backing out. The current makes him look streamline and strong, his tail dazzling when it reflects rainbow light beneath the water.

He's the prettiest catch Gon has ever seen.

The boy breaks the surface, and his lips part to take a gulp of air. Gon, who watches from the shore, swallows thickly.

He's so close that the boy rests his elbows in the surf to hold up his head. The water is so clear. Gon can see the rippling, sinewy muscles in his upper body. It does strange things to his hormones. Gon's mouth became as dry as the sand further up on the beach. His skin is a pearly color, like the belly of the shell he holds, long, light eyelashes with water droplets frame those incredible eyes… He rested his cheek on his elbow, and Gon finds himself looking at those lips. In his life, Gon has, for the most part, never dealt with lust, but this boy made something stir in him.

But it's those eyes that he beckons to come to him.

Those eyes send a shiver through him that feels like cold saltwater running down his back. The surf pulls back, and he lies glistening on the beach. He brings his tail up, so Gon can see the fin that fans beautifully on the end of it. Excess water trickles back into the ocean.

Gon holds the shell out to him, not registering what he's doing, because he's so transfixed on his beauty: and that gaze and those scales that shines like nothing he's seen before. The boy stares at the shell, at Gon, and back again. His own arm, pale like the rubber of a beluga whale's skin, reaches out to take the shell from him.

Gon says it without thinking. "You're beautiful."

The boy freezes, eyes widening, showing more of the ocean he holds within them. His cheeks become a coral pink.

"I don't know what you want with this shell. But I do know I want to know you."