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‘Dear guests, if you would follow me to the Grand Ballroom.  We will begin shortly.’

The white bowtie-clad Master of Ceremonies-slash-auctioneer dipped his head in an abbreviated bow and offered a smile that was probably supposed to make the gathered guests feel like he was letting them in on some great secret.

In Jisung’s opinion, it missed the mark and fell somewhere around whatever the polite version of greasy was.  But then, in his experience, that wasn't uncommon with white men and, by the style of his hair and the cut of his suit, this one was probably North American.  He watched the short man turn sharply on his heel and disappear into the wide mouth of the hallway at the top of the sweeping staircase and reluctantly acknowledged the curl of anticipation snaking through his belly, upsetting the very nice champagne he’d just had.  Jisung was not alone in his interest, of course – there was a marked increase in the volume of the chatter whispering through the crowd as they flocked to the stairs, only the restraint born of upper class breeding keeping any of them from hurrying.  Many of them had already spent obscene amounts of money but the charity part of the auction was long since complete and the single undisclosed item touted on tonight’s catalogue was promised to be entirely worth all the secrecy.

Depositing his empty glass on a passing server’s tray, Jisung followed the guests, perhaps the only one among them who was here alone.  The casual arrogance he wore like a coat over his outlandishly expensive suit acted as a most effective disguise, a pass that let him glide with this pack of predators undetected.

The cool lighting of the reception hall of one of Incheon's most prestigious hotels took on a decidedly blue tint as they progressed, the bronze sconces no doubt fitted with tinted bulbs behind their opaque shades.  Not enough to detract from the air of mystique and turn this into anything so tawdry as a themed event, of course, but enough that the white ties and waistcoats shone and the silver jewellery sparkled.  A reminder, if anyone needed one, of why they were all here and a clue, most likely, of what lay in wait ahead.

The sprawling hallway ended at the hotel’s Grand Ballroom, its stately doors standing wide open to reveal an expansive interior.  This was a room designed to hold thousands, snatches of night sky visible through distant windows, but the lights had been cleverly placed and the ballroom was awash with muted silver-blue and long shadows, creating an air of intimacy despite the humble hundred-odd people present.  Two wedges of cushioned chairs were set up on either side of the room, leaving a wide aisle to the centre.  The floor gleamed, satisfyingly smooth for heeled shoes to click-click-click their way across, and the ceiling was lost to the gloom, immense crystal chandeliers twinkling unlit far above.

And there in the very middle was the item itself – cylindrical in shape, it loomed at least five metres across and fifteen tall, its contents shrouded by silken drapes.  The MC stood before it on a spotlit podium, an auctioneer’s hammer placed next to him.  Murmurs raced through the crowd, the atmosphere flush with expectation and intrigue.  Jisung let the more avid guests cluster close, perfectly comfortable to stay out of the way, and he tipped his head back, sizing up the immense centrepiece.  The curtains were ambiguously pale and fit in perfectly with the carefully cultivated air of drama.

The rest of the guests filtered into the ballroom and the tension in the air wound tighter.  Jisung had opted to not wear gloves tonight, so he slipped his hands into his pockets to hide the sweat prickling on his palms and rested his weight on his heels, feigning a nonchalance that barely went skin deep.  Then the doors closed behind him and everyone’s attention was turned forward anyway.  On cue, the MC raised his hands, his smile taking a turn for the indulgent as dozens of the most well-moneyed people on this side of the planet fell silent.

Jisung had to remind himself to breathe.  This might all yet be for nothing but it had been so very long and he wasn’t quite strong enough to stifle the single thread of hope twinkling in his chest.

‘Dear guests, I welcome you one and all to this evening’s main event!’

Restrained applause, polished white teeth catching the light.  Jisung internally rolled his eyes and kept his hands where they were.

‘Tonight, I have the honour of presenting to you a creature like none you have ever seen before.  A unique treasure in this world of familiarity.  Discovered in the lowland rainforests of East Malaysia –’

Jisung’s ears rang like he’d taken a fastball to the head and he swayed slightly as his heart kicked against his ribs.  The lone thread of hope became an ocean between one breath and the next, setting his nerve endings alight as it filled him from neatly coiffed hair to patent leather-clad feet, and it was with a great effort that he managed to focus on the MC again.  He couldn’t afford to miss a moment of this.

‘Behold,’ the MC cried, gesturing to the cylinder with a flourish.  ‘A revelation of the deep!’

The drapes whipped upwards, baring a huge tube full of water illuminated by a spotlight below.  The water went up, up, up, uninterrupted and clear until it curved around a shadow lurking just out of reach of the light.  Then the shadow moved.

Gasps abounded and the air in Jisung’s lungs turned to dust.

The shadow uncoiled itself and twisted down through the water, the muted light revealing the head, shoulders, arms, and torso of an almost-man attached to the sinuous tail of a sea serpent at least three times as long as Jisung was tall.  Charcoal grey and inky black from head to bisected fin tips and faintly iridescent like an oil slick after rain, the creature was enchanting in an utterly alien way.  It – he – placed a large webbed hand on the glass barrier and stared out at them all upside down with eyes black but for a rim of bright gold.

The oohing and aahing of the guests reached Jisung’s ears but none of it registered.  None of it mattered.  They didn’t matter, not here and now, not them nor the MC nor anything else in this whole damn building except Jisung and the beautiful merman who hadn’t seen him yet.  How could they hope to be anything but completely irrelevant as the weight of fifteen years smashed into Jisung with all the force of a runaway train?

At last.

At last.

Jisung’s search was finished but there was still work to be done.  The merman wasn’t free yet.  So he blinked away the slight welling of moisture in his eyes and forced himself to listen again.

‘The creature is quite intelligent,’ the MC was saying.  ‘It can understand language even to the point of following complex directions and seems to have a sense of self and independent identity.’

The sheer indignity of the man’s words burned.

‘Is it dangerous?’ called another voice.

The MC tittered, hands folded neatly before him.  ‘The aquarium is heavily reinforced, I assure you.  The creature seems to have been formed to occupy the role of a natural predator and is armed with claws, fangs, and spines along its arms, tail, and back that are raised in times of distress as a threat display.’

He described to his rapt audience the paralysing venom secreted by those fangs, the merman’s remarkable speed both in water and on land, and the impressive strength packed into that lithe tail, but Jisung knew all this from firsthand experience.  He’d seen saplings felled by a single vicious sweep of the tail and there was a neat line of scars on his belly Jisung had only lived to see heal because of the liberal quantities of neutralising saliva applied by a velvet tongue.  Jisung knew exactly how sleek and slippery the merman’s tail was to the touch and to this day he perfectly recalled the rush of terrified exhilaration he’d felt upon discovering the merman could stalk him almost as easily, almost as silently over the soft rainforest floor as he could in the river.

‘Of course, we have an effective means of controlling the creature,’ the MC said and he raised a tiny remote and pushed the button on it.

The light in the aquarium’s base flashed as bright as day for a split second and the merman recoiled like he’d been struck by lightning, retreating up into the shadows in a rush of shimmering fins and bubbles.

A pathetic sound wrenched free of Jisung before he consciously realised what’d happened but no-one was paying him any attention at all.  He knew how much the merman disliked strong light and it was a kick to the chest, ice in his blood to see him tortured in such a way.  It took every scrap of Jisung’s willpower not to push through the crowd and slam the MC’s skull into the aquarium as recompense.

‘It has proved to be primarily crepuscular,’ the MC continued nonchalantly, ‘and it possesses a distinct case of photosensitivity.’

‘It’s self-aware, you say,’ a slender woman drawled, one of only four Westerners in the room including the MC, a mountain of golden curls piled atop her head.  ‘Can it refer to itself?  Does it have a name?’

Yes, Jisung wanted to shout.

He has a name.

I gave it to him.

Silence burned Jisung’s throat raw and the unsaid words sat like hot coals in his belly.

‘Unfortunately, while the creature is very capable of understanding human language, it appears to have no ability to reproduce it.’

An ugly laugh bubbled in Jisung’s chest but he swallowed it down.

The MC clapped his hands.  ‘Any knowledge we possess beyond that, ladies and gentlemen, is reserved for the winner of this auction.  I shall now ask you all to please take your seats in order that the event can start.’

Loitering at the back of the group, Jisung could sit where he wished with little competition and he chose a back row chair in the right-hand wedge.  He wanted to keep an eye on everyone else and remain as removed from the centre of attention as possible.  Neatly placed on every seat was a white-card paddle with a black number printed on it – Jisung’s boldly displayed 41.

Once the guests were seated, the MC declared, ‘This is an open ascending price auction.  There is no upper limit and the minimum bid increment is one thousand US dollars.  We start at the reserve price of one million dollars.’

He paused for a single second, clearly relishing the crushingly tense atmosphere that smothered his utterly silent, raptly attentive audience.

‘Do I hear one million?’

Jisung’s skin prickled, adrenaline flooding him, and a wave of white paddles flashed up.  The race was on, everyone hungry for the prize, but what no-one knew was that Jisung, too, had no upper limit.  He had a family fortune waiting to be spent and if he had to pour in every single won to win this auction, he’d do so without compunction.

It took Jisung two hours to outbid every other contender except the blond Western woman and a stone-faced older Korean couple.  Shortly thereafter, the couple balked as the MC announced the current going price was forty five million and, shoulders stiff with bitter disappointment, made no counteroffer.  The Westerner sat parallel with Jisung in the left-hand wedge and she fixed him with an icy stare as she raised by five hundred thousand.

Hyperaware of his every breath, the taut expectation of the guests around him, the merman languidly spiralling in his aquarium, Jisung lifted his paddle and said, ‘I raise one million.’

Someone stifled a gasp.  The Westerner’s eyes narrowed and Jisung’s heart bared its teeth in a vicious grin, hidden from view by ribs, flesh, and linen.

‘Going for forty five million five hundred thousand!’ the MC proclaimed, hardly bothering to disguise the glee in his voice.  ‘Going to number forty one!’

‘I raise one million,’ the Westerner countered, her paddle held aloft.

‘Going for forty six million five hundred thousand to number sixty!’

Barely had the words left the MC’s mouth before Jisung raised his paddle again.  ‘Fifty million.’

More gasps as the MC jovially said, ‘Going for fifty million to –’

‘No,’ Jisung barked.  ‘I raise fifty million.’

Dead silence.

What little colour was present in the Westerner’s face rapidly drained away and Jisung thought that might be a vein pulsing in her forehead.  The paddle trembled in her lap.

Jisung glanced sharply at the mute MC.  ‘Well?’

The comically wide-eyed man swallowed.  ‘Going for ninety six million five hundred thousand.  Going to number forty one.’

Sweat beaded under Jisung’s collar but he didn’t flinch, staring down his final competitor.  Go on, he silently goaded.  Match me.  See where it gets you.

She stared back at him with untrammelled loathing and did not lift her paddle again.  Jisung restrained his grin from unfurling across his face by the slimmest of margins and pointedly returned his attention to the MC.

Clearing his throat, the MC visibly dragged himself back to a semblance of professionalism and said, ‘Going once – going twice – sold!’  He rapped the gavel against the dark wood podium, creating a satisfyingly crisp sound.  ‘Sold to number forty one for ninety six million five hundred thousand dollars.’

There was a smattering of polite applause and Jisung allowed himself a slight, smug smile in acknowledgement as the attention of every one of the guests landed on him.  To think that once upon a time even one million ringgit had been an inconceivable amount of money to him, let alone North American dollars, and now here he was, spending just shy of one hundred million dollars without a moment’s hesitation.  Had the need arisen, Jisung would’ve happily spent a great deal more – there was no numeric price too great to offer for this particular prize.

With the completion of the auction came the end of the evening’s show and, the guests duly thanked for their attendance and participation, the cavernous ballroom gradually emptied.  The blonde Western woman was first out the doors, stalking away in haughty fury, and Jisung was pleased to see the last of her.  Many lingering looks were cast at the charcoal merman looping up and down the length of his glass enclosure, sleek and graceful and seemingly oblivious to everything going on outside it, and Jisung stood purposefully in front of the aquarium, not so far from it as to be ignored and not so near that there was any doubt that he was simply waiting.  Waiting for the shadowy room to empty of all but him, the merman, and the MC.

At last, it was just the three of them.

Jisung turned to the MC, who smiled and wordlessly offered a thin ring binder.  The label on the front read Subject Notes.  A quick flick through the documents inside suggested it contained nothing ground-breaking that Jisung didn’t already know but he made no comment on it.

‘When was this merman discovered?’ Jisung asked, tucking the folder under his arm and not bothering with polite formalities.

‘Six years ago, I am told,’ the MC replied, unphased.

‘And knowledge of it has been kept entirely suppressed?’

The MC smiled again.  ‘Yes.  I am not at liberty to disclose the identity of the seller but as he values his own anonymity, so too did he insist on discretion after the creature was captured.’

Jisung tilted his head, considering.  ‘An unusual choice,’ he noted, blatantly fishing.

The MC did not rise to the bait.  Instead, he said, ‘The creature can be made ready for terrestrial transport in fifteen minutes, Jisung-nim.  We will require payment by noon tomorrow, of course, but transport is permitted immediately, if you wish it.’

‘Good,’ Jisung said, his voice firm even as his mouth dried and his pulse picked up pace once more.  So close, he was so close.

He rattled off an address east of Jeonju-si, far away from the province’s busy capital, and the MC inclined his head.  It was one of the Han family estates, of which there were several scattered throughout the country.  Having spent his late teenage years and early twenties being shuttled between the main city centres, Jisung had only visited this one after his father’s death and his succession to head of the family business.  In the five years since then, he’d spent a considerable amount of money expanding it, ensuring the health of the minor Mangyeong River tributary that ran through it, and having as much of the land planted up as possible.  A tropical rainforest it was not, but Jisung’s interest had only been in making a suitable substitute.

‘Payment will be made in the morning,’ Jisung added, his attention already shifting past the MC to the huge aquarium, tracking the twirl and flair of iridescent black fins.  ‘For now, my wish is to see this merman safely back to my house.’

The MC glanced swiftly at his watch.  ‘We’ll prepare the creature for transport at once – it will be moved to a smaller tank and carried in a truck, which should arrive at your residence by half past two.’

Three hours from now.  If Jisung kept his foot on the gas at this time of night, he might make it back in two.

With a final glance at the merman, he said, ‘Excellent.  See it done.’

The estate was large enough that on clear nights, the brighter stars were visible to the naked eye.  But tonight was overcast and besides, Jisung wasn’t thinking about star-gazing as the Mercedes E63 sped up the long gravel driveway to the front of the house.  It was all hard, shiny, modern edges from top to bottom and light poured out of it, making Jisung blink hard when the car rolled smoothly into the underground garage, illuminated only by the headlights until a sensor tripped and the halogen strips above flared to life.  He slid past the bright red Alfa Romeo Giulia and the sky-blue Lotus Evora before pulling up between the sedate grey Porsche Panamera and the door at the far end of the lot.

Despite the lateness of the night and the just barely under two-hour drive, Jisung didn’t feel remotely tired.  Unlocking the door out of the garage and kicking off his shoes, he felt like his spine had been replaced by a length of live wire, shooting electric sparks out through his limbs at random intervals.  He took the stairs up to the main floor two at a time and made straight for his bedroom, the house around him a tasteful ode to hypermodern minimalism.  It was cold in a way that had nothing to do with the thermostat – floor-to-ceiling windows, chrome and black marble surfaces, and white walls.  The only points of colour were the nonsensical modern art paintings sporadically dotting the walls, all carefully chosen by the interior decorator Jisung had hired to sort the place out.

The master bedroom was much the same – heavy curtains hiding French doors, dove-grey carpet, utilitarian light fixtures, a massive bed spread with black silk sheets, black-and-white-tiled en suite.  All of it vilely expensive and none of it innately welcoming, which was very much the point.  Even before he’d become head of this small, broken, obscenely wealthy family group, Jisung had been determined to never associate any of the Han properties with the concept of home.  There’d been a time when he’d had one of those, after all, and it wasn’t with these people or in this country.

His mother was dead too, so he could never return to her nor the little house he’d grown up in.  Another family lived there now and besides, it didn’t mean much without her there.  But home had one more facet to it, a third after the woman who’d raised him and the house on the edge of the rainforest.  Jisung had just bought it, bought him for ninety six and a half million US dollars.  Nearly one hundred and nine billion won.

After fifteen years – half of his life – Jisung finally had a chance to build a home again.

He swayed, dizzy at the impossible thought, and braced himself against the sink, savouring the cool bite of the marble under his hands.  His vision swam and Jisung dropped his head, thoroughly mussed strands of hair hanging around his face as he panted for breath.  When he could open his eyes without wanting to vomit, Jisung looked up, promptly averting his gaze from the mirror as he caught sight of the naked hope and raw desperation splashed across his face for all the world to see.

With quick, efficient movements, Jisung ripped off his jacket, tie, and socks, tossed the heirloom cufflinks onto the counter, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.  Whichever way the next few hours went, it was inevitable that he was going to get wet.  Short of getting out his swimming trunks, this was as prepared as he cared to get.  A little water was nothing a dry-clean wouldn’t fix.  There was still the better part of an hour to go before the truck was due to arrive, so Jisung fastidiously tidied up after himself.  One of his rules for not treating the house as a home mandated that he leave no room messier than it’d been when he entered it.

Only then did he pad barefoot out of his room to ensure everything was ready.  The front of the house was open plan, with the front door tucked into an alcove.  Otherwise there were no dividing walls, the kitchen sprawling off to the right, the living room to the left and connected to the hallway that led to the rest of the house.  Directly opposite the front door was a wide space extending to the back wall, dominated by three huge windows.  During the day, they showcased the young, flourishing forest that covered the estate from end to end, but now they reflected the five-metre-across round pool sunk into the floor.

Like so many things here, the pool had been a calculated addition made by Jisung.  It was as deep as it was wide and filled with slightly acidic water to mimic the conditions of the rainforest river Jisung had first found the merman in.  His initial plan had been to import water directly from that river but keeping it fresh would require a constant supply and his financial adviser had threatened to resign on the spot if he seriously considered something as inefficient and excruciatingly expensive as that.  Jisung had privately admitted that it was probably not the most practical of plans and duly binned it.

Jisung crouched by the pool and dipped his hand in.  Cool, but not icy.  Good.  Shaking his hand dry, he went to the light panels and flicked all the switches off except one row over the living area which he dimmed instead.

Then there was nothing to do but wait.

By the time the truck appeared at the entrance of the driveway on the security feeds some forty minutes later, Jisung had just about paced a permanent track around the pool and he resisted the urged to run for the door.  He made himself walk, fingers twitching at his sides.  There were three shallow steps up to the front door and Jisung waited on the top one, his shadow cast long by the outside light and the first flecks of rain pattering on the ground.

Gravel crunched and crackled as the nondescript truck crept up the driveway and followed the curve of the turning circle until its back end faced the house.  The engine was shut off a moment later and three burly men jumped out of the cab.  Two went for the bolts holding the back doors closed, while the third climbed the stairs to Jisung, a tablet in hand.

‘Han Jisung-nim?’ the man asked gruffly.

Jisung dipped his chin.  ‘That’s me.’

‘Please sign here as proof of receipt of the delivery,’ the man said, offering the tablet and a thin electronic pen.

‘In a moment,’ Jisung countered, inclining his head towards the truck.  ‘As soon as I see the delivery.’

The doors opened and a ramp was lowered, revealing the end of a long rectangular container inside.  One of the men trotted up the ramp and disappeared into the truck while the other crouched at the near end, unclamping whatever fastenings had held the box in place.  As the MC had promised, it was a travel-sized aquarium and the merman was immediately visible within as the men wheeled it out on a sturdy trolley.

Light washed over the aquarium, twinkling on the merman’s faintly iridescent black and charcoal scales and flesh as he hid his head under the coils of his tail.  Jisung’s breath caught in his throat and he blindly accepted the tablet from the man waiting next to him, scrawling his signature.

‘Inside,’ Jisung said, a husky edge to his voice that he hoped went unnoticed.

Turning sharply on his heel, he walked back into the house, leaving the door wide open.  With a great deal of splashing water and straining muscles, the trolley was carried up the steps and rolled to the entrance.  There the men hesitated and made as if to start unlacing their boots, but Jisung was beyond impatient by this point and he ordered them to come in anyway.  They did so and under his watchful eye wheeled the aquarium over till it sidelong faced the pool and locked its wheels.  The outdoor light now gone, the merman was beginning to stir again and Jisung only half registered the instructions he was given regarding opening the aquarium and detaching it from the trolley before he brusquely dismissed the delivery men.

Waiting until the truck had rumbled away down the driveway, Jisung turned back to the aquarium and its inhabitant, who was now as uncoiled as he could get in this much smaller container and looking around with blatant interest at his new surroundings.  Jisung took a step closer, his legs threatening to give out at any moment, and that gold-rimmed stare snapped across to him.  The merman –

No.

Jisung knew his name.

He knew it better than his own.

It’d been so long since last he spoke it.

‘Chan,’ he breathed.

Little ribbed fins on either side of Chan’s head flicked forward and with painstaking deliberation, he pressed one hand flat to the glass.

Jisung sank to his knees on the cold floor, curling in on himself slightly.  ‘Do you remember me?’ he asked in the Malay dialect he’d learned at his mother’s knee.  ‘Do you know me, Chan?’

Chan didn’t blink, the coils of his tail shifting restlessly, and he raised his other hand above his head to knock his knuckles against the top of the aquarium directly beneath the catches holding it shut.

It wasn’t an answer to Jisung’s question but the meaning was unmistakeable and Jisung stood, running his fingers over the heavy clasps.  Chan rolled onto his back, looking up at him expectantly, the quiet sloshing of the water audible through the mesh-covered air holes studding the aquarium.

Jisung knew how dangerous it could be to open the lid.  Chan might very well be looking for an escape and here was someone new, someone susceptible to him as his previous handlers hadn’t been.  Someone who was fool enough to hope that Chan wouldn’t kill him the moment he had his freedom.  Jisung opened the aquarium anyway.  He wouldn’t be the reason Chan stayed locked in a box, not when he was asking to be let out.

The lid was split into two panels, one firmly fixed in place, the other designed to open along one side.  It was entirely too reminiscent of a glass coffin but Jisung had no time to dwell on that uncomfortable thought because the moment the catches were released, Chan shoved the panel open and rose up out of the aquarium like a sea god from myth and legend.  Water cascaded off his body, some splashing onto the floor, cold droplets flecking Jisung’s skin, and when Chan paused, slitted nostrils wide and ear-fins flicked forward, he towered over Jisung.

The urge to reach out and touch was visceral and Jisung curled his hands into tight fists to restrain it, drawing Chan’s attention to him again.  The long spines running up the back of Chan’s arms flared out slightly as he bent down till his face was less than a foot above Jisung’s and Jisung caught the scent of something silky-wet and rich in his nose.

‘You know me, Chan,’ he said, barely able to lift his voice above a whisper as a most dreadful hope strangled him from within.  ‘You nearly killed me on the riverbank and then I taught you to say my name.’

Chan’s transparent inner eyelids flickered open and shut and thin lips parted, revealing row upon row of sharp teeth, and a long black tongue unfurled, tasting the air around him.

‘I was only there for a few years before I had to leave.  I promised to come back, remember?  But when I did, you were gone and I knew someone else had found you.’

The words tumbled from Jisung’s mouth in a helpless stream and he would’ve continued, would’ve recited everything he could recall from the five years he’d had with Chan as a boy on the cusp of adulthood, but Chan leaned down a little closer and –

– licked the side of Jisung’s face.

Jisung reeled in shock, one hand coming up to touch his damp temple.

A growl rumbled in Chan’s chest, low and ominous, but then it stuttered and in a truly guttural voice he rasped, ‘Jisung.’

Oh, Jisung had missed him.

He tried to reply, tried to say anything at all, but his lungs wouldn’t draw in air, the words refusing to come.  It was impossible.  It was real.  Chan was here in front of him and he knew Jisung and no-one was going to separate them.  How?  How could it be real?  Jisung had been fighting for this for so long, surely something was about to go wrong.

Hope transformed into blinding joy and utter terror in equal part and Jisung’s mind spiralled, caught in a vice between believing what was happening right in front of him and knowing it couldn’t be real, it must be a cruelly vivid dream –

‘Jisung.’

Clawed fingers threading through his hair, dragging him closer with utmost care, anchoring him to the present.

Jisung sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his whole body shaking like a leaf.  He grabbed Chan’s hand without second thought, fingers curling tight around his wrist.  Chan stared at him, gold-edged gaze searing through Jisung’s bones, and Jisung poured himself into those dark eyes, uncaring if he drowned.

But Chan wouldn’t let him do that and he flicked his tongue over Jisung’s chin, breaking his hyperfocus.  Chan made a questioning noise in the back of his throat, jerking his head to indicate the room they were in.

‘This is my house,’ Jisung said, clearing his throat.  ‘I’ve been making it into a place you can stay, too, because –’ he swallowed hard – ‘because I can’t take you back home.  The river isn’t safe for you anymore.’

Chan exhaled in a hiss, lips curling back from his teeth slightly.

Jisung dropped his gaze, the skinny boy who’d spent his days playing with a merman in that very river hanging his head in grief deep within Jisung’s core.  ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t risk someone else finding you again.  Humans aren’t kind to what they don’t understand.’

Another growl, this one distinctly more menacing.  ‘Know that.’

The stilted words buzzed over Jisung’s skin and hot anger flashed through him as he remembered Chan recoiling from the fierce light in his aquarium, a human’s casual malice.  ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated softly.

Chan hummed noncommittally, claws lightly scraping against Jisung’s head.  ‘House, safe?’

‘Yes,’ Jisung replied at once, not for a moment worried.  ‘You will be safe here.  There’s a river and trees outside for you.  I’ll show you in the morning.  This is my land and no-one will hunt you here.’

Chan made a strange chuffing sound and he released Jisung, gently tugging his wrist free, sliding back into his box until the water covered his scales and lapped at his waist.  ‘You,’ he rumbled.  ‘House, safe?’

Jisung stiffened.  Was that laughter?  And as for the question, well.  His jaw worked, struggling to force out unwilling words.  ‘Yes,’ he repeated.  ‘This house is safe for me as well.’

With another hum and a sharp stare that saw far too much, Chan tilted his head at the pool beside the trolley and grunted inquisitively.

The hard knot of tension in Jisung relaxed a fraction.  ‘For you, Chan.  If... if you want to be with me inside the house.’

Chan trilled in clear delight and immediately surged up, arching gracefully over the rim of the aquarium and diving straight into the water below with an impossibly small splash.  In a single second, his entire body was submerged, long flukes gleaming in the light before they disappeared and only faint ripples were left behind.

Irrational fear chilled Jisung’s blood and he sank into a crouch, bracing a hand on the pool’s edge as he looked down into the shadowed water, searching.

The shadows smiled at him with fangs like knives and relief nearly knocked him in, an automatic grin of his own unfurling.  Chan emerged slowly, inky black edged in a sheen of green and purple, and Jisung thought how strange it must be, that he should feel relieved not to see the darkened depths empty but inhabited by a creature that could tear him apart with ease.  A creature with poison in his veins and the strength to pulverise bone in his every limb.  But then, his relief was warranted.  Jisung could reach out and stroke careful fingertips over a high cheekbone and the creature, his merman, Chan, only leaned into the touch.

‘Do you like it?’ Jisung asked.  ‘Does the water feel good?’

Chan propped his elbows up on the lip of the pool, inserting himself between Jisung’s knees, and a rough chirring started in his chest.  He grinned, showing all his teeth, and licked under Jisung’s jaw, eliciting an abortive yelp from him, but when Jisung’s balance would’ve tipped him backwards, Chan wrapped an arm around his waist quick as a striking snake, holding him firm.  Water seeped into Jisung’s shirt and trousers and he couldn’t care less.

‘Jisung,’ Chan purred, voice still harsh as a mouthful of gravel.  ‘Good, Jisung.’

With a smile that was definitely a little shaky, Jisung cradled Chan’s face in his hands and tipped his head forward, pressing the foreheads together.  ‘Good,’ he repeated.

Chan chirred louder and ducked down, nuzzling at Jisung’s throat.  ‘Safe now.  Always safe, Jisung.’

Lethally sharp teeth brushed against the fragile skin and Jisung couldn’t tell if the strangled gasp that left him was due to the action or the words.  That velveteen tongue joined in but withdrew at the collar of Jisung’s shirt and Chan’s soft snarl at the impediment thrummed through them both.  Before Jisung could find the buttons, Chan ripped the shirt along the shoulder with his teeth so that the front and back pieces fluttered down over Jisung’s thighs.  Jisung’s skin flushed, the hairs on his nape prickling, and Chan’s arm around him tightened as he dipped his head to examine the neat scars on Jisung’s belly.  Markers of a life spared and a bond formed.

‘There goes half the dry-cleaning bill,’ Jisung muttered to himself, only to break off in a sudden groan as Chan laved his tongue across the scars.

Sliding his arms out of the ruined sleeves, Jisung shoved at Chan’s heavy shoulders, pushing him back.  Chan grumbled but obliged, glancing up at Jisung with curious eyes, and Jisung found himself exhaling a rather breathless chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.  An absurdity he wouldn’t change for all the money in the world.

‘Just let me get this off,’ he said, pulling the shirt off over his head and tossing it away, fond and exasperated and so deeply happy he felt drunk, every fibre of him aglow.

As soon as the fine cloth hit the floor, Chan was crowding in close again, but this time he curled his hands around Jisung’s hips and tugged.  With a great splash and an inelegant squeak, Jisung slipped into the pool, cool water enveloping him.  His eyes closed on instinct but his head never went under, Chan’s grip on him steady and strong, and he opened them to find them chest to chest, gleaming fangs bared in a mischievous grin.  Jisung couldn’t stop the laugh that rolled out of him, bright and carefree as it hadn’t been in so many years, and he grabbed Chan’s slick shoulders, hauling himself up to lick a stripe straight across Chan’s cheek.

The chirring rumble returned, a pleasant vibration under the skin, and Chan tipped himself till he was floating on his back, Jisung draped over his front.  Surprised, Jisung braced his elbows on Chan’s chest but Chan raised a hand and guided Jisung’s head onto his clavicle, tucked under his chin and well out of the water’s reach.

‘Safe, Jisung,’ Chan murmured, stroking his knuckles firmly down the length of Jisung’s spine, encouraging him to melt into the embrace.  ‘Always safe.’

And who was Jisung to argue with that?  So he let himself relax, sinking into the comfort of Chan’s hold with a shuddering sigh.  The dim lighting added to the intimate atmosphere and outside the rain poured down, a cocoon around this little space as though the world itself rejoiced at the reunion.  A droplet of salt water dripped from Jisung’s face onto dark skin beneath him, mingling with the fresh water pooled there, and he closed his eyes.

‘Always safe.’