SO IF I RUN, IT'S NOT ENOUGH //JIKOOK

1

"it hurts– it hurts, stop it!" jimin screams, hands covering his ears. a sob leaves his mouth, a stray tear drops in the 'water'. the surface bubbles up, jimin notices jeongguk laughing inside through the ripples it creates. he closes his eyes again, fucking bitch.

the water splashes, some of it spills outside, "hey, you're overreacting." jeongguk puts a strand of hair behind his ear– much of it curls in front of his eyes. he looks at the merman who's half of face and body is covered with long, straight, platinum-black hair, eyes shut tight, hands still on ears.

jeongguk frowns, "hey, what?" he slaps jimin's hands away, holding his chin, "what is it? what? is it ringing?" the talons digging in his cheeks scare him more than they hurt him. "no," jimin turns his head defiantly, dropping backwards to get under water. it reaches their waist– most of it spilled by jeongguk. he's neck deep when he can't move forward, his tail touches the bathroom door. he fiddles with the corals hanging around his neck.

all his life he was told to not even look– hell, not even swim near anywhere you see land, surface: either it's the humans, or the sirens, and you don't know what's worse. and right now he's practically sitting on the lap of a siren– in a human's home. it's unnatural for an aquatic being like him, but he shudders. yes, and his ears still ring. and if jeongguk thinks he's 'overreacting' then he doesn't know how much more louder can the bloody fish go. he doesn't wish to know.

"stop spilling it," jimin reaches up and turns the knob, "don't forget you need it more than me." warm water splashes straight on his head, jeongguk laughs, flapping his tail. he puts his fin above the merman's head, enjoying the water getting everywhere but to jimin.

it's true. sirens mostly remain in the depths of the ocean, as deep that if you see them: you think it's a little fish passing by; when it's a siren– shadow of a siren, good thirty whales away.

"why don't we do rain?" jeongguk says, trying to get forward and shift the tap. jimin takes the chance to sink deeper, much of the space is taken up by the siren, so much that most of the time he remains outside– his head always almost hitting the taps.

instead of 'rain', it switches to a steady flow of cold water, and jimin pushes him on the chest, "just let it be." jeongguk lands on the softness of jimin's tail lying behind him, frowning. "hey," he shouts, jimin ignoring, but flinching. the siren's voice is deeper, but, ironically and strangely enough– it's somehow louder and pinching to jimin's ears. he doesn't cover them- knowing jeongguk hates it, but hunches his shoulder, trying to sink again.

jeongguk is younger. way younger. infact, he's yet to reach the age of full blossom. he's twenty-four, and when jimin was twenty-four some hundred years ago, he was also immature. he remembers seeing a vessel for the first time, something of a creation to travel through their home by an entirely different species– 'humans'. it's because they can't breathe underwater, they can't live in our home. they live on land. this knowledge really fascinated him. there's creatures who can't breathe under water?

he wandered off too close to a ship out of curiosity.

he saw the 'humans', and was about to sing, as he had heard from his friends– "our voices make them fall in love with us, those creatures. my mother told me that grand mother once had a child with a human– he now lives on land. my mother has a brother who lives on land! my uncle!" he wanted to catch a human too, fall for him too.

the humans were cruel, though. they tried to catch him, instead. not in a way he expected, or even thought. and as the net closed around him, the last he remembers was a siren's song.

that day, a little over a century ago, he broke the myth of death from a siren's song. sure, it hurts, something he probably didn't forget and massage his ears for a good decade, to be honest. but he was alive.

only alive because of that song.

it was a lullaby so sharp and stinging, something which doesn't even make a lullaby– but it was. he slept with his ears ringing, woke up five days later to her mother's arms.

that day, a siren died. "this is my song? just mine? only mine?" jeongguk was five, he asked his father wide-eyed, spinning around him excitedly. his father smiled, "only your's, my little dolphin. but–"

jeongguk gurgled some water around him, giggling, "i will tell mom!" as he speeded away before his father could stop him. he swam across the fishes, some of them parting ways and scattering away spotting a siren.

his mom had kept on a hand on his mouth. his little fangs almost bit her, jeongguk looked up at her questionably. "no one hears your song," she said, pushing his hair back and clipping it with a coral– who knows which mermaid she 'took' it from. "why? it's a special song, mom, something only i can do!" his mother smiled, "sing it if you ever see a human, you know humans?" jeongguk nodded, "you kill them."

"alive human," her mother laughed, "now, now, just sing me what i taught you, melodies. you're too little, my dolphin, for a siren's song."

"rain can only happen there," jeongguk lifted himself from the bathtub, touching the tiles with his hands. "jeongguk, stay in the water," jimin reprimanded, grabbing his shoulder. jeongguk landed on the floor anyway, dragging himself to the tap. jimin ticks, both, at the siren's stubborn behaviour, and his liking for rain.

siren's love rain. he doesn't. siren's are known to live and sleep deep, deep underwater– no sunlight gives them their blue hue. he has heard they only come up to 'lure'– kill, the sailors, at the beep of a ship. or the thunder of a storm. used to high currents and travelling within, a looming and dark weather brings them up to the surface to enjoy the high and tall tides.

merfolk generally reside near the air, the vast blue sky. he sits on the tiny islands, and blows his shell. it's not just the waves make him lose his home journey even after being, what? some three hundred and six years old, but also makes him look out for sirens who may slash their throat for mere beautiful corals they found and shaped.

and rain may fascinate jeongguk, he hasn't witnessed much, or probably his parents don't let him– to be honest, their home, ocean, is so vast that fascination remains for even the merfolk till a hundred. he can't say he never begged his mother to show him a siren or selkie, even when he was hitting two hundred.

it's more so for the siren, because however dangerous they're– this natural calamity doesn't live past a century, or a half more. plus, he's no one to comment how one was raised– but the way jeongguk is stubborn: even in a human's bathtub who doesn't react to their songs, he wishes he grows up a little, so he can live a little more in their counted days.

he looks at the boy, eyes closed, water seeping down his bare body. twitching ears and his small tail– sirens have comparatively small tails compared to them, right now his reaches the bathroom door beyond the shower and a.. bowl? while jeongguk's is curled around himself. it's still big, for a siren, but everything about jeongguk is different for a siren, while being a siren.

like he should be dead by now. and jeongguk doesn't even look at the corals on his chest and ears, just commenting at how long his hair are. hair! and his hair, they reach his shoulders: yes, his reaches his waist but, for a siren..

maybe it's his fear, and his only solace being him, that he smiles at something which should be the death of him.

that's when death knocks at their doors.