warning for mentions of blood and injury

The beach is empty when Chanyeol steps onto the sand.

It had been raining all night, not a light, pathetic rain, nor a sudden burst of medium showers that faded momentary into sunlight. It had been raining, really raining, and it is clear from the way the sand sticks to his shoes like mud that it was not yet fully dry, darker patches littering the surface of the sand across the length of the beach. A large pier, old and abandoned, still dripping with rainwater, sits in the sea about halfway down the beach. It could be his imagination, but at this distance it looks like it's almost swaying in the wind. Pulling his backpack more securely onto his back, Chanyeol makes his way towards it.

The stairs up to the pier creak under his feet when he steps onto them. He walks up them gingerly, careful not to trip on the slippery wood, weakened by water and the passing of time, and the pier itself is no better, groaning under the weight of Chanyeol's body as he shuffles his way along, heading for the part of the pier that hangs out into the water the furthest. The fences on either side have been whittled down over time, hanging on by whatever is left of the rusted nails keeping them attached, or missing altogether. One wrong move and you could easily tumble over the edge.

Chanyeol isn't afraid, though. He's been coming here for years, the barely-standing infrastructure slowly growing to be the place he goes to clear his head. It's quiet, and no one dares go near it. If his mother knew he were here she would surely kill him. The thought makes him smile and he whistles a tune to himself as he nears the end of the pier, dropping his backpack from his shoulders and zipping it open to take out a battered old notebook and pencil. He sits down with a grunt, swinging his legs over to dangle off the edge, opens his notebook and starts to write.

A short distance behind him, Chanyeol’s village is just starting to stir to life. The village rests on an island that sits just off the coast of the mainland. If the island is small - and it is, only a couple thousand square kilometres wide - the village is even more so, populated by a thousand or so people that live in sturdy little houses along the cliff-sides and rocks, most of them elderly, having lived there all their lives. Unsurprisingly, a large amount of the population makes a living by catching and selling fish in the many fishing ports and markets that line the coast of the mainland. The only way to get there is on a rickety old fishing boat, captained by the old and greying Mr Jung, who has done so every single day for as long as Chanyeol can remember, occasionally helped by his two daughters when they have time to spare.

It’s this very boat that Chanyeol sees pass by in the distance, perched on the edge of the old pier with his long legs dangling off the side, and he takes a break from scribbling down song lyrics to watch as it slowly vanishes into the fog, disappearing as it travels in the direction of the mainland. Chanyeol should currently be on it, heading off like the proper and reliable student he is to attend his daily lectures and seminars at university. He probably has about fifty messages from Sehun, all asking where the hell he is and why he didn't tell him he wasn't going in today. Chanyeol can picture the scowl on his face, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pressed into a pout. The thought makes him laugh, and he reminds himself to check his phone later in the day. He could do it now, but that would mean moving, and he is quite comfortable where he is, cold air brushing his ankles through his socks. He's sure Sehun will forgive him if he waits a few hours longer to reply.

For some reason he decided to visit the beach instead of going to school. He just felt like it today, like the ocean was calling to him, or some rubbish like that. The cloudy skies and rough waters foretelling of another rainstorm to come soon, perhaps later that day. There’s a buzz in the air, the threat of lightning. Chanyeol pulls his coat closer to him as he turns back to his notes.

Chanyeol loves his tiny island, away from all the chaos of the mainland cities he has only ever been to on school trips. He was born and raised in this village, grew up to the rhythm of the tide and harsh sea salt winds. His family home is only a mile away from the sea, and where he lives now, in an apartment block in the newer, more industrial side of town, is still close enough to make the journey every other week. He’s used to the annoyance of gulls and bitter stench of the sea, something his friends would all complain about whenever they visited from the mainland. This type of weather, monotonous and grey, is undeniably boring, but it’s familiar, and in a way, rather calming. It’s why he’s chosen to sit on the pier, far out into the open water. He feels relaxed here. The ocean just has that effect on people, he guesses. Everyone in his village loves the ocean, and Chanyeol is no different. Swinging his legs up to cross them under his body, he lets the rumbling of the waves fill his senses as he scribbles messily in his notebook.

Everything is quiet, peaceful despite the tumbling seas. He’s halfway through writing something, a tune dancing on the tip of his tongue, when he gets distracted from his train of thought by the sound of someone groaning.

It's a deep voice, low and strained, and quiet, smothered by the squawking of gulls and monotonous rhythm of the water. He almost misses it, and when he does catch it again, he doesn't think much of it at first. He knows that, while this area is rarely frequented by members of the village, some old folk like to walk their dogs along the shore, and sometimes the schools in towns nearby bring their students here to study the rocks. It's rare, but it does happen, and it's most likely one of these people making the noise. Chanyeol scratches his nose and goes back to his scribbling. They'll leave eventually.

But then it happens again. And again. Chanyeol stops writing and looks up from his notebook. Putting his pencil down, he looks around, scanning his eyes across the endless blue that surrounds him, the dripping rocks and sodden wood of the pier in which he sits. There is no one else on the pier at that moment, and when he looks over his shoulder he can see that the nearest person is ages away, all the way back on shore; an old man watching by himself as his dog chases the waves that brush along the sand and pebbles. He is definitely too far away for the grunting to belong to him.

Turning back around, Chanyeol sits still and listens out for the noise again. It’s a few minutes before it happens again, but when it does, Chanyeol figures out almost immediately where it’s coming from.

It's coming from below him.

Curious, but a little cautious, Chanyeol moves his notepad and bag to the side and gets down to lie on his front, trying his best not to get his clothes caught on the aged and splintering wood. Gripping the end of the pier, he pulls himself forward and looks down under it.

A few metres below, half submerged in water and clinging to the leg of pier directly below Chanyeol himself, is a man.

Chanyeol almost slips. The man is young, around Chanyeol's age perhaps, and he is shirtless, his bare neck, shoulders and chest showing in flashes of white beneath the water as he struggles to keep himself afloat as wave after wave fights to loosen his grip. And white is an accurate description of the man's skin, Chanyeol thinks, because he is incredibly pale, an almost sickly shade of white and grey that leaves Chanyeol stunned as he squints down at the quivering figure. Hair, long and black, cascades down has back and shoulders, fanning around him like a dark halo.

"Hey, what are you doing down there?" he calls out. "Are you okay?"

It’s a little strange, Chanyeol thinks. The water is too cold this time of year for people to swim in it, and even if it was warmer, not many people would choose to go near the pier, with its slippery chipped wood covered in barnacles and limpets, murky waters full of old abandoned netting, glass, and broken-off parts of boats that had docked there decades ago, making it rather a dangerous place for a leisurely swim. Did this man drift over by mistake, or was he just foolish enough to brave swimming in such a hazardous place?

Chanyeol has never seen someone so strange. He's so distracted by the peculiarity of the man's appearance that he almost doesn't notice the stripes of deep crimson on the stranger's hands, dripping in thick rivulets and mingling with sea water as it drips down his arms. The man’s back is no different, dark red scars and weeping cuts crisscrossing across his pale skin. Another grunt, pained as it rips from the man’s throat, only confirms Chanyeol’s concerns.

Nope. Definitely not okay.

He wastes no time in leaping up and stripping off his coat and scarf. The winter wind bites and nips at his skin but he pays it no mind as he shuffles out of his shoes and socks, leaving him in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt to protect him from the harsh end-of January weather. That man is injured and needs his help, he can deal with being a bit chilly if it means getting the stranger to safety as soon as possible.

Shivering hard, Chanyeol braces himself. Backing up a little, he takes as big a breath as he can muster and runs, jumping off the edge of the pier and diving into the murky black waters below.

The moment his skin touches the surface of the water, his entire body erupts in a pain so sudden and extreme he forgets for a second how to breathe. His skin feels like it’s being stabbed all over by a million tiny knives, and it takes all the energy he has to swim to the surface, gasping for air to fill lungs that feel ten times smaller than before. Flicking his hair out of his eyes, he looks around until he sees the injured man, taking another short breath before paddling his way over, arms doing their best to pull him despite feeling like they’re encased in ice.

The man has his eyes shut tight, a pained grimace clear on his face as Chanyeol gets closer. He’s still clutching onto the wooden leg of the pier like his life depends on it. Chanyeol’s heart aches for him. The poor guy must be hurt quite badly. He needs to get him out of the water before he gets worse, or, at least, before they both freeze to death.

When he gets close enough to touch the stranger, Chanyeol calls out to him. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he says between stifled pants. The man doesn’t respond, his grip on the wood loosening enough for him to start slipping down under the surface. Chanyeol urges himself forward and wraps his arms under the man’s shoulders, kicking his legs to pull the man up above the water again. When he is certain that the man’s head is fully out of the water, he rolls around, the man’s back pressed against his chest, and kicks in the direction of the shore.

He only manages to move a metre or so before the strange man lets out a screeching cry so loud it makes Chanyeol’s ears ring. It’s a terrifying noise, high and sharp, almost animalistic in its primal tone, and Chanyeol has to tighten his grip when the man starts thrashing and writhing in his arms. He tries to move again, but the man’s screeching only gets louder and more deafening. Another tug, and he quickly realises that the man isn’t moving easily, like he is being weighed down at the ankles.

He must be caught on something. That might be why he’s injured as well, explaining the screaming. Chanyeol needs to untangle him, else he’ll never get the man to safety without causing more harm than good. He gulps in a few mouthfuls of air before ducking down under water, pulling himself over to the man’s feet to see if he can release him from whatever it is that is keeping him tied up.

His entire plan evaporates like vapour the moment he reaches the man’s feet.

Because instead of feet, what he finds is the end of a large fish tail, shiny scales glistening like jewels in the rippling tide.

Swimming up to the surface, Chanyeol gasps loudly, his lungs bursting and mind reeling with so many thoughts that he feels dizzy. He must be imagining things, right? The cold must have gotten to him, the murky water has him seeing things that aren’t actually there. There’s no way this stranger has a fish tail for legs. That’s simply not possible! Shaking his head, Chanyeol heaves another breath and dives back down, almost choking on the dirty water when he sees that he really isn’t going mad.

The man has a tail, a real tail, the fin almost as broad as Chanyeol’s shoulders. In the greenish hue of the water the scales look an inky black, like Whitby jet, with a holographic shimmer to them that shifts every time it’s owner jolts and struggles against its restraints. Looking down, Chanyeol sees that the tail is horribly tangled in what looks like an old fishnet knotted around rusted barbed wire. The wire has gone straight through the tail membrane in several parts, tearing it almost to shreds. Blood is seeping from the wound, floating through the water like smoke.

Chanyeol starts to panic. His mind is racing into over drive, yet he feels so tired, the freezing temperature of the sea now starting to make him feel warm and numb. He’s been in the water for far too long. He doesn’t have anything on him to cut away the wire or netting, and for a split second the thought of just leaving the man- no, creature, behind if it means swimming to safety enters his mind.

No, he says to himself, don’t be ridiculous. That thing, whatever it is, is still alive and still worth saving. Chanyeol couldn’t live with himself if he just let an innocent creature bleed out when he could stop it from happening. He’s not a monster, and he doesn’t feel like becoming one any time soon.

Looking around, Chanyeol spots a broken bottle nearby, neck buried in the sand and rocks. Taking it in hand, he uses it to slice through the areas of the netting that have gotten knotted, cutting around the wire until it pulls free. He slices open his finger in the process, and it stings violently, but he ignores the pain as best he can in favour of making quick work of the task at hand. The rope is thin and weakened from exposure to water, and soon Chanyeol is back to pulling the strange being to shore, hands holding him tightly under his arms so he doesn’t drift away in the tide.

It takes longer to reach land than Chanyeol had hoped. The distance isn’t that far, and the being is quite light, a lot less heavy than one would expect a fully grown man (or animal) to weigh, but the water is so cold, and Chanyeol is so tired, that it feels like hours before his feet brush against the soft pebbles and sand that line the shallow shore, allowing him to stand up and drag the figure out of the sea and onto the beach.

His knees give in almost as soon as he reaches dry land, and he crashes onto the beach with a gasp, exhaustion taking over his body and mind. He feels surprisingly overheated despite all the wind and water, the urge to just close his eyes and sleep growing stronger the longer he lies there in the sand, but he knows he needs to dry off and find real warmth as soon as he can. He sees movement out the corner of his eye and remembers he is not alone. It takes all the energy he has left within him to urge himself back up onto his feet, staggering over to the other body lying a few feet away.

The damage of the wire is quite severe. The creature’s tail (Chanyeol rubs his eyes just to make sure that yes, there is in fact a giant tail right in front of him) is bleeding heavily, the sand around it now dyed a shocking bright red as it soaks up the gushing liquid. Trailing his eyes upwards, he takes in the rest of the tail, dark, shimmering scales no longer dimmed by the filthy water under the pier. They’re beautiful, like small black diamonds, fading into a pearlescent gold just above the creature’s hips, almost transparent where they end just below the navel. Chanyeol eyes trail up the creature’s torso, lines of muscle shifting under pale skin as they tense and shudder in pain. A heaving chest gives way to narrow shoulders, droplets pooling in raised clavicles.

Getting onto his knees, Chanyeol leans forward for a closer look, equal parts frightened and fascinated. There are gills on the creature’s long neck, the same pearlescent shade of gold as the top of its tail, fluttering open and closed in time with its panting. A sharp jawline and plump lips leave Chanyeol at a loss for words, and at this distance, Chanyeol can see that it is not in fact hair on its head but seaweed, thick and ropey, having somehow attached itself to the creature’s skin. He reaches down to touch it, gasping in shock when it breaks off in his fingers, leaving a small patch of glistening transparent gold scales in its wake.

“What are you?”

Chanyeol leaps back with a yelp when the creature’s clenched eyes suddenly open, revealing orbs of such a bottomless blackness that Chanyeol feels his heart rise into his chest out of fear. He’s never seen eyes like that before, the lack of white or iris simply terrifying to him, and he’s seconds from running away as fast as he can to escape the strength of the creature’s gaze, dark like the unexplored depths of the ocean itself. But then he sees something in the creature’s eyes that has him moving forwards again, no longer as afraid as he once was.

The creature is just as frightened as Chanyeol is, it’s expression laced with fear and uncertainty. It’s clearly quite young, and injured, bleeding out in a habitat it probably isn’t used to, and Chanyeol feels his heart ache in sympathy. He runs a hand over its head again, brushing stray strands of weed out of its face, and it seems to lean into the touch, wincing as another pang of pain rips through its body.

“It’s okay,” he says, shushing the creature as it whimpers. “I’ll help you. Just hold on a little longer.”

After a quick scan of his surroundings, Chanyeol concludes that they are alone on the beach, the old man from before nowhere to be seen. Fighting the fatigue that has settled in his bones, Chanyeol jumps up and runs all the way back to the edge of the pier, gathering his discarded clothes and backpack in his arms before sprinting all the way back. Pulling out his scarf, he ties it around the top of the tail fin, hoping it will staunch the flow of blood long enough for him to do something more worthwhile later, and wraps his coat around the rest of the creature’s tail, tying the sleeves in a knot just below where the creature’s bottom would be if it were human to stop it falling off in the wind.

The creature grunts in protest when Chanyeol urges it to roll onto its side for him to do so, but it does it anyway, and for that Chanyeol is grateful. He doesn’t know how he would explain away the presence of a real-life mermaid to the folk in his village and any attempt to avoid such an incident is worth the effort. It’s not every day you find mythical beings just floating about in your neighbourhood. Chanyeol doesn’t want that kind of attention, and he suspects the injured creature doesn’t either. It’s best for them both if this be kept as secret as possible.

Trying his hardest to be gentle, Chanyeol pulls on his backpack and squats to lift the creature into his arms, adjusting its own so that they curl around his neck before slowly making his way home.

i hope it's not too obvious that i have never been on a pier before oops

as always, thank you for reading! feel free to come yell at me on my tumblr or in the comments if you have any questions or simply just want to scream about stuff, i'm always up for a chat!