Jongin doesn’t believe in fate, destiny, serendipity, anything like that. Whatever happens, happens, and there’s no real reason.

He questions coincidence, however, when he leaves a store thinking about a part-time job and flinches at a sudden gust of wind. Beside him is a covered bulletin board, weathered by the elements and heavily layered in flyers and announcements. The corner of a single-page flyer flaps against the board just at eye-level, torn from its pushpin by the breeze.

HELP WANTED

LIFEGUARD FOR SUMMER SEASON

CALL TO APPLY

Jongin can swim. He knows CPR. He was a lifeguard at the community pool for a few years. Like many seaside locals, he’s probably spent more time in the water than on land. He writes the number on his arm.

It’s strange, he thinks, that there’s an actual ad for a lifeguard. For as long as he can remember, the beaches have always had staff. They were just there; he never heard anyone talk about applying for the position or there ever being an opening.

Jongin just imagined a bunch of red-suited people on standby. Someone calls in sick or goes on vacation, and someone else automatically takes their place.

At home, he braces himself for the toddler who throws herself at him, clinging to his leg and giggling.

“Uncle! Let’s go swimming!” She’s already in her bear-print swimsuit with a pink inner tube around her waist. Jongin’s mom leans around the wall and laughs.

“She’s been full of energy all afternoon. Go run some of it out of her.”

“You make her sound like a puppy.” His niece barks at him, tugging at his shorts with her teeth. She squeals when lifted. “You wanna go outside, Rahee pup? Should we go swimming?” With her loudly listing everything she wants to do at the beach, from seashell hunting to sandcastle building to body-surfing, Jongin quickly changes and grabs the tote bag his mom hands him as they head out the door.

“Is my Kitty towel in there?” Rahee asks, pulling at it to rifle through. The only beach towel she will use is her Hello Kitty towel. Nothing else is good enough.

Satisfied, she takes Jongin’s hand and leads the way.

The closer they get, the antsier his niece is. She feeds off the energy of the waves and bounces as she walks, soon skipping circles around Jongin.

“Can you wait a minute, so I can ask about a job on the beach?”

She stills, staring at him with wide, starry eyes. “You’re gonna work at the beach? You’ll get to swim every single day! Momma won’t let me swim every day. She says I’ll get so pruney I’ll stay a prune.” She grimaces, sticking out her tongue while observing her non-pruney fingers.

Jongin goes to the little building lifeguards use to change, take breaks, and keep their things. An older girl greets him with a smile, which he shyly returns.

“I saw an ad about an open position…”

“Oh! Great! Are you interested?”

“Y-Yeah. I used to be a lifeguard at a pool, and I’m still CPR certified.”

“Awesome.” The girl rifles through a stack of papers and finds the least crinkled one. “Here’s an application. If you fill it out now, the boss will actually be here later to see it. You’re the only one to apply so far, for some reason,” she continues, mystified, and passes Jongin a pen. “Kinda weird, but I don’t think we’ve ever had to ask people to apply. It’s just been a constant thing, you know?”

With his niece held between his legs to keep her from wandering, Jongin finishes the form and slides it back along with the pen. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” She waves to Rahee. “Have fun! Watch out for sea monsters!”

“Are they mean?”

“Naw,” she shrugs, “ours are pretty nice. Just watch for them, so you can make friends!”

Excitement bubbling over, the little girl drags Jongin away and orders him to lay out their towels while she gets some wet sand to start their castle. She struggles to unpack it with Jongin spraying sunscreen on her, but they manage their duties.

Jongin tucks his sandals into the tote bag and takes on the role of gathering construction materials under his niece’s hawk-eyed guidance. The castle grows out more than up, becoming a sprawling paradise with grassy roofs, a moat to swim in, and sentry crabs. Pebbles are the common currency, but foreign shells are acceptable, too.

“Hey, guess what.”

“What?” The girl adds another shell to the front of her castle.

“I’m gonna beat you to the water.” Jongin leaves his bucket and digs his foot into the sand, pushing off like a runner from their starting block. He hears Rahee’s indignant cry and looks over his shoulder; she’s chasing after him as fast as she can.

Sweeping her off her feet just as they hit the water, he stumbles back and falls into an oncoming wave, surfacing immediately. Rahee giggles and splashes him, kicking her legs to follow his easier backstroke.

“Excuse me.” An older man calmly drifts around them on an inflatable raft. A couple float on their backs like otters, holding hands to stay together.

Further out, buoys rock side to side, bells clanging. Seabirds bob and dive for fish. There are ships on the horizon and smaller boats closer to shore. Down the beach, there are stands renting out jet skis and kayaks.

Jongin floats on his back with his eyes closed and ears underwater. He’s happy to just be in the water and swim. Ever since he was a baby, he’s been a swimmer. It just feels natural and comfortable to him, a slower pace than what’s expected on land.

When Rahee climbs onto him and says she’s thirsty, they return to their towels for a couple juice boxes. She sits on her inner tube like it’s a recliner, looking like a comfy queen as she quietly surveys the beach. Some kids smack a beach ball to one another nearby without much accuracy due to the breeze; there’s a volleyball game down the way, although the net is missing.

Wordlessly, she passes her drink to Jongin with a soft belch. “Had enough?” With a nod, she stands, holding her inner tube to her , and waddles back to the water.

Jongin stays on his towel. His juice box is empty; he blows air into it so it inflates. He hates to think he’s bored, but he’s definitely not excited about anything. Summer always drains his energy and motivation. Maybe work will change that.

It could be fun to be a beach lifeguard. No rules about running or horsing around to enforce. Just make sure everyone that goes underwater comes up again.

Rahee’s been picked up by a retreating wave. She kicks to propel herself back, drifts a bit, then keeps kicking. A Frisbee lands beside her, spraying water. She retrieves it and passes it back to the boy who lost it. Good girl, Jongin praises as his niece waves.

Someone shouts, more panicked than the playful din. People close by look at them, then follow their arm pointing out to sea.

A dusky-tipped dorsal fin cuts through the water, and Jongin’s heart drops to his stomach.

“There’s a shark!”

As parents scream warnings and make a mad dash for shore, the lifeguard splashes into the surf to haul out younger, sweeter swimmers. Jongin throws his niece over his shoulder, leaving the little inner tube behind, and joins the rest of the crowd like a wave crashing over the sand.

Nobody’s hurt, but some children are crying. Rahee sniffles and clings to Jongin’s neck. The beach will probably close until authorities clear it.

Sharks are rare in the area. Dolphins are a common sight, but they’re usually harmless to people.

When the water is empty and the excitement dies down, no one sees the shark swimming merrily away.

 

The lifeguard manager calls Jongin to congratulate him on the new job. It’s the easiest interview he’s ever had—does he understand hand signals; can he run a mile in nine minutes; and can he swim X-distance in so long a time?—and he’s asked to report for his first day when the beach reopens. After training, he’ll work four, ten-hour days each week, sitting for two or three 90 minute shifts during the day.

His uniform is simple and comfortable—red board shorts and a T-shirt with LIFEGUARD across the back. Add a red baseball cap, a water bottle, and sunscreen, and he’s set.

He enjoys it, for the most part. The other lifeguards are nice, joking like good friends. There are a lot more weird rules than he ever knew, like holes deeper than a few feet aren’t allowed because people could drown in the sand.

Scary, but true and an easy thing to prevent.

Confrontations have never been his strong-point, though. He’ll throw himself into a rescue more willingly than approach some dudebros trying to literally bury their friend in the sand.

His first rescue is nearly disastrous. The little boy got carried out while their guardian wasn’t paying attention. He can’t swim and starts to panic, drawing Jongin down from his chair and across the sand faster than he ever knew he could run.

The current is strong thanks to some recent storms, and even though Jongin is a confident swimmer, he can feel his arms getting tired.

It doesn’t help that the boy tries to jump to him right away and loses his raft. Jongin swims back a little and tosses his flotation board, which the boy grabs onto like a cat trying to escape a bath.

Something brushes against his legs. Jongin ignores it as he tows the boy to the beach; there’s lots of bold fish. The temptation to stop and take a break grows, but he cannot stop swimming until they’re both safely on land.

Again, the bold fish passes him, lifting him and carrying him closer to shore.

Nobody says anything except thanks when Jongin passes the boy to his guardian, so maybe he imagined it.

He spends the rest of his shift huddled on his chair, watching people pass inflated beach balls around or splash in the waves. A couple jet skis tear across the water further out, turning sharply to spray water.

The call of sleep is louder as the sun sets, and the beach technically closes. Nighttime swimming is allowed only at the individual’s own risk. Jongin’s done it once or twice, when it’s particularly hot and humid.

Rather than walking to the parking lot where his bike is chained, he keeps going along the sandy grass until it gradually rises, slowly climbing to the cliffs. They’re not unreasonably tall; he can look down and not get too queasy. A fall would still be nasty because of the rocks at the bottom.

Sitting with his legs crossed, he closes his eyes to face the setting sun. It’s still warm, and he breathes deep—taking in all the salt and fishy, seaweedy smells—and exhales, letting his shoulders fall.

He looks down and sees something shiny. Someone probably dropped some trash over the side.

When he’s ready to head home, he gets to his feet and brushes the sand from his shorts and legs. He doesn’t look where he’s going and nearly steps on a seagull.

It screeches and hurries to get away, wings throwing sand in his face, and he raises his arms to protect his eyes, stepping back.

He forgets that there’s not much to step back onto, and his foot falls through the loose sand into open air. Momentum and gravity work together against him, drawing him back and down.

The water rushes to meet him. Somehow, he avoids the rocks and drops into the waves like a stone. His momentum slows, but he can’t find the light. Everything is darkening; silence presses into his ears—

 

Then he’s cold. He squints at the full moon. Someone’s humming nearby; it stops when Jongin raises his arm.

“Are you finally awake?”

A boy is next to him, leaning on his arm with a hand on Jongin’s chest and much too close for a stranger.

Jongin ignores that, however, and sits upright. The world swirls around him for a moment before settling along the horizon where it should. “What happened?”

“You nearly drowned.” The boy smiles, almost flippant about Jongin’s near demise. Gesturing to the water, he continues, “There I was just enjoying a nice swim when a body drops onto me! Don’t you know that not only can humans not fly, you can’t breathe underwater?”

“I’m well aware…” He takes note of his body and is relieved that everything is intact, although there’s an unusual bump on his head that is sore to the touch. He’ll live.

Jongin turns to thank his savior properly and notices the boy then, really notices him.

From about the waist up, he’s a rather muscular but skinny boy with an even tan and irregular moles spotted over his arms, chest, and shoulders, but from his waist down, he’s smooth and bronzy with a white underside. Altogether, he’s longer than Jongin is tall. A necklace of triangular teeth swings from his neck. The centerpiece is gray and nearly the size of Jongin’s palm.

“What’s the matter? Did you swallow too much water? You look sick.”

“You’re a shark!”

“I am?” Panicked, he looks over his shoulder at the dusky-tipped dorsal fin and oblong boomerang of a tail. “Oh, right. That’s normal.” He grins. “If that’s your only concern, I guess you’re okay. You did nearly die.

“And no worries—I’m no man-eater.” He twists to lie on his front, tail wagging and drawing grooves in the sand. Smiling, he adds, “Although I’m sure you taste delicious.”

The comment, although offhand and conversational, draws a shiver down Jongin’s spine that shakes whatever warmth he had away.

“I should go…” Standing is difficult, but he manages. The boy watches silently, smile dangerously benign. “Where am I?”

Kicking his tail over his body, dripping seawater over his back, he shrugs. “You’d know better than I would.”

Fair enough. With that logic, though, Jongin could be a few yards from the beach or a few kilometers. He doesn’t see the cliffs he’d fallen from. “Uh, well, thank you.” He bows awkwardly and climbs further up the beach.

“Come back any time!” He doesn’t hear the boy leave, but he’s gone when Jongin turns around.

“Weird…” Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought; it still hurts, and it would explain a shark person.

Slowly climbing over the rocks, avoiding the clinging sun-dried seaweed, Jongin decides to trust his senses and walk along the shoreline until he finds a beach with a parking lot. Those have signs, at least, although it’s too late for anyone to be out. He can find where he is and then hopefully find a phone to call home. His parents are probably worried by now.

The wind kicks up, throwing his hair over his face and pulling his shorts taut over his thighs. Judging by the complete lack of trash, he’s probably far between inhabited areas. There are no bike paths or walking trails, no signs asking people to pick up after their dogs, no power lines overhead.

His only company is the chirping bugs and occasional birds. Sometimes, a fish leaps from the water. It’s safer during the evening, when many animals are asleep.

Jongin wishes he was asleep at home. Nothing sounds better than his own bed.

He nearly kicks a nest in the grass and runs from the angry parent—egret, stork, heron, or bittern, he doesn’t stick around to measure the neck and find out—no parent wants to see their baby trampled.

Finally, he finds a worn path and pushes through some scrubby brush. The parking lot is nearly empty; a couple cars are parked up at the very front, and Jongin can see some silhouettes walking along the water.

A beach sign stands beside the phone booth at the corner of the lot. Both are covered in white splotches, and cigarette butts stick out of the sand beneath them, but the phone works. Jongin calls home and asks his dad for a ride.

Sitting on the low curb, Jongin picks up a handful of sand and lets it sift through his fingers, falling into his other hand just to switch their positions and do the same thing, until the sand is all between his feet.

He wonders where the shark man went. Maybe they live nearby. Jongin doesn’t know much about sharks, but his grandma used to tell him stories about the diving women and their ocean husbands. Their children could live on land or in the water, but their children could only live on land, carrying the ocean heritage in their veins.

Grandma was never clear on what exactly the people were, who partnered with the diving women. Jongin always imagined them as merpeople, perfectly half human and half fish—he’s admittedly influenced by popular animation.

Feeling for rocks before lying down, Jongin stares at the sky. The clouds moved out during the day, leaving it completely open and showing off all its sparkling stars.

He hopes his things are still in his locker at the lifeguard house.

Headlights cut over him, followed by the crunch of gravel under tires. Jongin recognizes his dad’s car and climbs into the passenger seat.

“You alright? We were worried.” His dad waits until Jongin buckles his seat belt before pulling onto the road.

“I’m fine. I just lost track of time while following the beach.” Not entirely false but also not entirely true. Nothing really bad happened, so he doesn’t want to worry anyone, and his dad would tell his mom, who would make a huge fuss. “I saw a shark today.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s rare.”

Jongin leans his forehead against the door; his dad drives with the windows open. He doesn’t realize he’s asleep until his dad shakes his shoulder and maneuvers him out of the car.

It’s been years since he was carried to bed, but his dad takes an arm across his shoulders and helps keep Jongin upright. The dogs sniff his feet and legs with eager whines.

He wakes up just enough to say goodnight when dropped onto his bed. His mom kisses his forehead and asks her husband what happened.

Jongin dreams about the ocean. He’s swimming underwater and breathes like he’s on land. A shadow falls over him, swimming in tighter circles.

 

His parents work early, so there’s only a note on the kitchen counter when Jongin shuffles in.

Good luck today! Lunch is in the fridge. Love you~

He doesn’t work today but goes to the beach anyway. There’s no evidence from his encounter last night except for some bruises and a spot on his head that only hurts when he touches it.

Taking his bike, he gets his backpack of things from his locker and then pedals to where he’d fallen. He follows a path in the general direction he thinks he woke up. Everything is much warmer and friendlier during the day, telling him that there’s no way anything weird happened after he rescued that boy during his shift.

He never fell from a cliff.

There’s no such thing as shark people.

When he reaches an area where the path curves away from the waterfront and keeps going, Jongin stays on a relatively straight path. Some things look vaguely familiar. There’s even a bird on a nest eyeing him warily when he lets his bike lie in the sand.

It was probably never established as a public beach because of the massive rocks. In the daylight, he sees graffiti, however, and knows people do still visit.

The tide is out, leaving little pools of crabs and starfish that Rahee would love to play with.

Leaving his backpack and sandals, Jongin wades out just to his knees. Sometimes, that’s all he needs. The waves coming and going sort of massage his legs, playfully threatening to pull him off his feet but never acting out.

When something does grab his ankle, he shouts and backpedals just to trip over his own feet and land on his .

The shark laughs, showing off slightly hooked, serrated teeth, and holds himself out of the water like a seal sunning itself. “Maybe I should’ve just said ‘hello…’”

“It’s you!” Jongin pulls his legs to him to sit cross-legged. “You’re actually real.”

“Of course I am. Did you forget our rendezvous last night?” His tail wags gently through the water.

“I just...wasn’t sure.” He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it towards his backpack. It catches the breeze and falls closer to Jongin but still out of the water.

Maybe going into the water with a shark is dumb, but it’s weird having such a split discussion. He’ll go in far enough to sit but not so far that he can’t run back onto the beach.

“I’m Jongin.”

“Jongdae.” He holds out a hand. “I brought you something.” It’s a white miter seashell. “I got back from the sardine run a little while ago. There were some really pretty shells.”

“Really?”

Jongdae nods, and Jongin slips the shell into his pocket.

“So what brings you here?” Jongdae’s face is always smiling, Jongin notices, even when relaxed. “Looking for me?”

“I just—” He kind of was. “I was just curious. It seemed like a weird dream.”

“I have that effect on people.”

As they chat, Jongdae shimmies back, and Jongin follows him further out until he’s treading water. He doesn’t feel threatened or worried; Jongdae slowly swims around him and teases Jongin’s inefficient, slow swimming.

When the sun is overhead and Jongin is drying out on the sand, he decides to head home. He’s hungry, and his water bottles are empty. It’s going to be a long ride home.

“Do you live around here?” he asks, shaking sand from his backpack.

Jongdae throws his tail up, sending an arc of water at Jongin. “Sometimes. I sleep in deeper water.”

“Well, if I came back in a couple days, would you be here?” He has work. No one else would appreciate a shark coming to work with him.

“I suppose, for you.”

Jongin definitely doesn’t blush.

And he doesn’t think about his new friend the entire ride home.

 

Some concerned bathers ask Jongin if there have been any more shark sightings, and he assures them they haven't had any reports, although he still keeps a careful lookout for any dorsal fins poking out of the water.

He returns to the beach of the beaten path on his days off. Sometimes, Jongdae is waiting. Other times, Jongin swims by himself before having a minor heart attack as his leg is grabbed.

One windless, miserably hot day, Jongdae’s wearing a new necklace strung with small, irregular white beads. He holds his old necklace with the gray centerpiece to Jongin. It’s almost too much work to lift his arm to accept it. “This is for you.”

“Are you sure I can have it?” Jongdae smiles. “Thank you…” Upon closer inspection, it’s kind of pretty. The center shark tooth is still sharp, and the shells are unevenly cracked with little pieces missing, but the little rocks are smooth and shiny. “How did you string it?”

“There’s plenty of netting in the water.”

“Oh…” Campaigns to prevent pollution and clean up the coast are endless, but there’s even more garbage out in open water. Jongin’s high school class went on a field trip to a marine research facility that went out daily to find animals tangled in fishing line and nets. They chased down seals all morning.

“Speaking of, think you could help me?” Jongdae twists and pulls his tail up closer, holding one of his fins. “I’ve tried to get this hook out, but it’s stuck.” There’s no scab around it, and it’s cleanly through the fin, but Jongin feels sick at the sight and shakes his head.

“I’d have to get wire cutters. I’ll grab some next time I come.” He almost touches the fin but jerks his hand back. “Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad. You can touch me, if you want.” He waves his fin. “Just move your hand down towards my tail, or it’ll feel weird. For both of us.”

Jongin’s heard about the sandpaper-like feel of petting a shark backwards. Going with the grain, Jongdae feels perfectly smooth.

“This must be how a cat feels,” Jongdae muses. Jongin blushes. “I don’t mind. I can’t purr, but I can hum happily.” He closes his eyes and hums.

He has long eyelashes. They’re pretty.

 

Another lifeguard asks about his new necklace, and Jongin panics before saying it’s from a friend. He has wire cutters in his backpack and is planning on going to take out the hook from Jongdae’s fin after his shift.

The shark says it only hurts when he touches it, but Jongin realizes he’s the type to keep playing with something he shouldn’t, like a kid with a loose tooth.

The day passes slowly, only broken up with his climbing up and down from his chair and a couple teenagers pretending to drown. Jongin grabs his things and goes to the empty beach.

He waits for twenty minutes before giving up and going home.

Rahee wants to play the next day, demanding attention and wanting to know where he’s been going without her, because no one else will play with her and Jongin’s being a bad uncle.

So it’s another couple days before he goes to the beach to meet Jongdae. He’s waiting, smiling brightly when Jongin climbs down the rocks.

“Sorry it took so long,” Jongin says, digging the wire cutters from the bottom of his backpack. “You weren’t around after work, and my niece has been demanding playtime.”

“You have a niece?”

“Yeah. My older sister’s kid. She’s expecting another one soon.”

“No wonder you’re so kind…” Jongdae shifts and pulls his tail around. The hook is still snug in his flesh, and Jongin hopes he’s not as green as he feels.

“This might hurt.” He has to push the hook up and the fin flesh down to work the cutters between them. It’s a strong hook, and he closes his left hand over his right to force the handles together.

Cleanly bisected, the hook pulls out easily, and Jongin puts both it and the cutters in his backpack after inspecting the leftover wound.

Jongdae touches it and dips it back into the water with a sigh. “That’s better.” He reaches out to his left, frowns, and sifts through the sand for a minute before finding a pretty pink conch shell. “Payment.”

“Thank you.” Jongin has a shelf in his bedroom of Jongdae’s gifts. “How did that hook even happen?”

“I dunno.” Jongdae reclines beside Jongin, leaning back on his hands and closing his eyes. “It just happened. I managed to break the line, but I couldn’t get the hook out. It’s not as bad as the time a spear got my tail.” He lifts it to point out a long scar. “Thought I was gonna die. Luckily, the fisherman got stuck in some coral and drowned.”

Jongin almost comments That’s sad, but it’s not for the person they were hunting. He flinches when a wet shoulder bumps his.

“Don’t look so tormented. It’s just life, for both of us,” Jongdae remarks. “The flesh is food; the bones are jewelry.” He touches his own necklace, and Jongin looks. So close, he can see that the beads are actually human teeth. “Don’t look so scared, though. I’m no man-eater. I prefer squid.”

“Me, too.”

Seagulls scream at one another about food. Jongin squints at their angular wings and orange feet. Large clouds are gathering, probably bringing rain. He’ll go home before they break open.

“I didn’t think much about that hook, but I really notice that it’s gone.” Jongdae slaps the water with his tail. “C’mon! I’ll race you.”

“Where?”

“Does it matter? I’ll win!” Jongdae dives under an incoming wave that knocks into Jongin’s chest. He scrambles to follow and ducks underwater, but he can’t see the shark.

He shouts as he’s lifted from the water, grabbing onto Jongdae’s forehead. The shark ducks his head and lifts—throwing Jongin clear. He barely whoops with laughter before he crashes into the ocean. Opening his eyes, he takes in the foreign world of coral, fish, and seaweed. There’s more color and vibrant life than he’ll ever fully understand or get to appreciate.

Jongdae swims around him, teasing him; he can’t keep up. He catches the long tail and is dragged until he has to surface for air.

The clouds are gray and heavy. He waves a hand underwater, and Jongdae pops up in front of him.

“I’m going home before the rain. I’ll see you later?”

Rather than replying, Jongdae sinks underwater, and Jongin feels himself being lifted and propelled through the water until it’s shallow enough to touch bottom. Water splashes the back of his head.

“See you later, Jonginie.”

The shark never waits after saying goodbye, and Jongin hurries back to his bike. He doesn’t make it home before the rain, but he’s never minded getting wet.

Jongin was born with sea water in his veins. No matter what, he’ll always return to the ocean, and Jongdae will be waiting. Whatever happens, happens, and there’s no real reason.

---

a/n: Written for round four of EXOSeasonal. (prompt no.370 Jongin took a job as a lifeguard and got saved by a merman instead.)

I'm not super pleased with the pacing here. Should've picked a single time and stuck with that; I always seem to lose myself when writing more than 2k... Oh well. I just enjoyed Jongdae as a shark.

Specifically, he is a copper shark/narrowtooth shark/cocktail shark/bronze whaler/New Zealand whaler, a “requiem shark” (large sharks usually found in warm seas).🦈 They can be aggressive but rarely attack people except, like spearfishers, because they're in the water with the same prey. (If they were native to the area, I was going to make him a nurse shark. Those are the ones people will swim with, because they're gentle unless provoked.)

I have never been a lifeguard and actually refuse to go into the water at all, although I used to love it.