Chapter Text
Pacific Ocean. Joseon Era. 1600s.
The salt-tinged wind whipped through Jinu's hair as he stood at the bow of a weathered ship. The Pacific stretched before him like a vast desert of blue. He had been at sea for nearly three weeks now, and he was starting to get sick of staring at the same endless expanse of water, day in and day out.
In exchange for money to buy food for his mother and younger sister, he had agreed to travel to the Pacific with pirates as an extra pair of hands. They had one mission: bring back a mermaid alive.
"You understand the terms, boy?" the pirate captain had asked him three weeks ago in a dimly lit tavern. "We sail to catch the pink-tailed one."
Jinu had nodded, watching the small pouch of coins slide across the table. It was enough silver to keep his mother and sister fed for a few months, much more than he'd ever earn in a year of playing his pipa on street corners of their village, where most passerby would simply hurry past him without sparing a glance.
"Did they really see a merman out there?" Jinu asked curiously.
Merfolk had always existed in the waters surrounding Joseon, though they were strange, mysterious creatures who rarely wandered to shore. But there were enough sightings that every coastal village had its stories. Old fishermen would whisper about them in taverns. They spoke of seeing men and women who were half-human and half-fish, their iridescent tails appearing and disappearing beneath the waves. Emperors would dispatch their finest naval officers to capture one. Rich aristocrats would pay fortunes that could feed a village for years, all for the chance to own something that belonged in myths.
"Pink-tailed one's been sighted for years now," the captain said. "Always in the same stretch of ocean, but never caught. Merfolk are cunning, boy. They've got minds sharper than any beast, and speed that'll outpace any ship on the ocean."
An instance of a mermaid being caught was extraordinarily rare, possibly only a dozen times in a hundred years. But that never stopped pirates from wanting to catch one.
The captain's eyes gleamed with greed. "But if we can bring him back alive? We'll be richer than any merchant in Joseon."
And so, Jinu, without any other option, had also chosen to try his luck with the sea over his family's starvation.
But part of him was curious. What were merfolk like? What did they look like up close? Were they as beautiful as the old fishermen claimed? Or were they beasts wearing human faces? Something inside him, deeper than hunger or fear, had drawn him out to the sea. Something he couldn't name. So he had simply boarded the weathered ship that day with just the clothes on his back and his pipa.
Soon, it had been twenty days since they'd left port. The coastline of Joseon was now just a distant memory, replaced by water in every direction. They were deep in the Pacific now, far beyond where trading ships dared to venture. There was still no sign of the pink-tailed merman, and the crew was starting to grow restless.
One quiet night, while the pirates were drinking and making merry, Jinu sat by the ship's ledge with his pipa cradled in his lap. He began to strum, letting his fingers find the familiar patterns, then opened his mouth to sing.
The pirates around him, rough men with scars and missing teeth, started to gather in a crowd to watch him, their weathered faces softening as they sipped flasks of wine in silence. Even the ocean seemed to still, as if listening.
Jinu sang verse after verse, song after song.
Then—
"Merfolk!" one drunk pirate shouted, his voice cracking with disbelief.
Soon, the other pirates started to look over. Jinu stopped mid-note, his fingers stilling on the strings, and turned to follow their collective gaze. Sure enough, there was a figure in the water, perhaps thirty paces from the ship, floating in the middle of the darkness of the Pacific. A figure of a man, half-submerged, with only his head and broad shoulders visible above the surface, illuminated under the moonlight. It seemed that he had been watching them, or perhaps him, before someone on the ship discovered him.
The pirates started to make a fuss, shouting and scrambling for nets and harpoons.
"There! Get the nets ready!" one of them yelled.
"Don't let him escape!" another shouted, his voice ragged with excitement.
But Jinu remained frozen at the ledge. His pipa fell silent. The merman's gaze found his across the water, and everything else fell away. Those eyes were golden, glowing in the darkness, and they looked at him. Not through him, not past him, but at him. Directly, completely, at him.
"Jinu! Boy! Don't just stand there!" the captain barked from somewhere behind him.
Jinu's lips parted, wanting to reply, but no words came. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. Him and this strange creature in the water.
Then that creature turned away.
"Ah…" That's when Jinu finally saw him properly under the moonlight.
The merman's tail swept upward in a powerful arc before plunging down into the waters. A glistening dark pink tail, almost as crimson as the scales of a red snapper. His tail was so massive it must have been twice the length of a man. And his body was huge, built broader and more powerful than any of the pirates on their ship, with muscle that spoke of inhuman, otherworldly strength. Long hair the same shade as his tail cascaded down his back in flowing rivulets.
Then he was gone, as if swallowed by the vastness of the Pacific. The dark waters had gone quiet again, as if he'd never been there at all.
"Damn it all!" the captain roared, slamming his fist against the rail.
"Did you see the size of that tail?" one of the pirates breathed, his voice a mixture of fear and awe. "It was massive."
Jinu couldn't speak, left completely in awe of what had just happened. His hands trembled slightly on his pipa.
When morning came the next day, it was complete chaos.
The pirates worked themselves into a frenzy, adjusting sails, scanning the horizon, desperate to find the creature again. The captain barked orders to his men throughout the day, determined not to let their fortune slip away for a second time.
When night came, Jinu wanted to try something again. There was something in his gut that told him to do it, a pull he couldn't name. He sat in the same spot by the ship's ledge, softly strummed his pipa, and began to sing outwardly to the sea. Perhaps the water might carry his voice to wherever the merman had gone.
The first song was an old folk melody from his village, one his mother used to hum while cooking. The notes from his four-stringed pipa drifted across the water, carried by the gentle night breeze.
Minutes passed. Nothing.
Jinu continued, transitioning into another song. Closing his eyes and letting his fingers find their own rhythm on the strings, he quietly sang a tune about lovers kept apart by distance and fate.
Still nothing.
He was about to start a third song when he felt a strange sensation of being watched. His fingers faltered on the strings for just a moment before he forced himself to continue playing, though his heart had begun to race.
Slowly, without breaking his melody, Jinu opened his eyes and looked out at the water.
There.
Like clockwork, the merman had emerged from the darkness. This time only his head surfaced above the water, dark pink hair slicked back and clinging to his temples. Droplets of seawater traced down his face, catching the moonlight like glistening fragments of crystal.
Jinu's fingers trembled on the strings of his pipa, but he didn't stop playing.
Those bright golden eyes watched him again, just like last night. This time, the creature was twenty paces closer. Close enough now that Jinu could make out more details. He could see the strong line of his jaw, the elegant slope of his nose, the translucence of his webbed ears, and the upturned curve of his lips. The merman was breathtaking, but not in the way of handsome village boys or pretty merchants' daughters. It was a mythical beauty, as if the ocean had gathered all its most precious things and shaped them into flesh and scale.
"Do you want me to sing more?" he mouthed. He couldn't risk speaking loudly and alerting the pirates.
The merman's head tilted slightly, as if studying Jinu with curiosity. Then, slowly, deliberately, he moved closer still. Fifteen paces now. Close enough that Jinu could see the faint shimmer of scales that seemed to dust the merman's pale cheekbones.
Jinu wasn't sure if merfolk could understand human speech, but the merman's wide, innocent eyes seemed to wait expectantly.
And so Jinu continued playing. He chose his little sister's favorite songs, letting each melody flow into the next. The merman remained where he was, floating motionless in the dark water, his bright eyes transfixed, sometimes on Jinu's face, sometimes drifting to the pipa in his hands.
For a long moment, they existed in that stillness together. The waves lapped gently against the hull of the ship, and somewhere in the distance, Jinu could hear the pirates beginning to stir.
"He's back! There he is!"
The deck exploded with movement. The merman's eyes flicked away from Jinu to the pirates. Soon, he turned and vanished in a flash of pink, faster than thought.
A small part of Jinu sank with disappointment.
It didn't take long for the pirate captain to notice the pattern. On the third night, after the merman had vanished once more into the depths, the captain approached Jinu with calculating eyes.
"You," he said, jabbing a thick finger at Jinu's chest. "It's your music that draws him. I see it now."
Jinu said nothing, clutching his pipa closer.
"You'll sing every night from now on," the captain continued, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Same time, same place. That's an order. And you'll play louder, longer. Whatever it takes to keep him coming back."
"Captain, I—" Jinu began, but the older man cut him off.
"No excuses, boy. You want your payment? You want your mother and sister to eat? Then you'll do as I say." The captain's eyes gleamed with greed. "That creature is worth more than you'll earn in ten lifetimes. You'll help us catch him, or you'll get nothing."
So Jinu did as he was told. Night after night, he sat at the ship's ledge with his pipa and sang to the ocean.
Some nights the merman didn't come. Jinu would sit there for hours, playing to empty water while the pirates glared at him with disappointment. Those nights, he felt strangely hollow, as if something was missing from the world.
On other nights, the merman did appear. He would surface quietly, those golden eyes finding Jinu immediately in the darkness. Then he would simply float there, watching and listening. Each time he came, he moved incrementally closer. Close enough now that Jinu could sometimes hear the soft splash when the merman's tail broke the surface.
The creature never stayed long. After a few songs, maybe ten or fifteen minutes at most, he would turn and disappear beneath the waves. And each time, he would swim away at lightning speed, a flash of dark pink cutting through the black water, gone before the pirates could even ready their nets.
By the fifth night, Jinu realized he had begun to anticipate those visits. He would find himself listening to the water even during the day, wondering if those golden eyes were somewhere below, watching the ship's shadow pass overhead.
By the seventh night, the merman was so close that he was simply an arm's length away from the ship's hull. It made Jinu slightly anxious, but it ensured that the pirates never caught him. He was always too fast, too clever. Even when they sent small boats out on the sea in advance, trying to surround him, or cast wide nets that should have trapped anything, he would sense the danger and vanish before the trap could close.
Jinu, on the other hand, had been captivated. He was simply a peasant, a street musician that no one ever paid attention to. His voice wasn't even anything special. But when those golden eyes looked at him across the dark water, when that powerful creature surfaced night after night just to listen, it felt like he was the only one that existed in this world.
But on one night, everything changed. A storm rolled in without warning. Dark clouds swallowed the sky whole. The waves of the Pacific grew monstrous, each one crashing against the hull with enough force to make the entire ship groan.
"Captain, we should take shelter below deck!" one of the older pirates shouted over the roar of the storm. "This storm could capsize us!"
But the captain's eyes were wild with greed. "No! This is our chance!"
He grabbed Jinu by the collar and dragged him toward the ship's edge. Rain lashed at them sideways, and the deck was slick beneath their feet. "You'll sit right here and play, boy! Play your songs! He'll come. I know he will."
Jinu stumbled, catching himself against the ship's rail. The metal was ice-cold beneath his palms. "Captain, in this weather, he won't show! It's too dangerous. I could fall overboard!"
"I don't care if you have to tie yourself to the mast!" The captain's face was twisted with desperation now, rain streaming down his weathered features. "We've been chasing that creature for weeks. Weeks!"
Shivering violently, Jinu had no choice. His fingers fumbled over the strings of his pipa, numb from cold and wet from the rain. He tried to position himself more securely on the tilting deck, wedging his back against a thick coil of rope. Another wave crashed against the hull, sending spray high into the air. The salt water stung his eyes.
"Play!" the captain barked again.
Jinu began to play, though the music was nearly drowned out by the thunder and stormy winds.
To his shock, a familiar shape emerged. At first, it was just a dark silhouette beneath the waves, barely visible through the torrential rain and spray. Then the merman surfaced. Those golden eyes found Jinu immediately through the storm.
But something was different tonight.
The merman's usual bright-eyed expression was gone. His brow was furrowed, his jaw tight. Those sharp eyes swept over Jinu's shivering form, then darted to the pirates scrambling across the deck, then back to Jinu again. There was an intensity in his gaze that Jinu had never seen before.
Something almost… angry.
The merman's lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something. His powerful tail moved in slow, deliberate strokes to keep him steady in the violent waves.
"There!" The captain's voice cracked with excitement. "Closer! Get us closer to him!"
The ship groaned as it turned, fighting the waves. The merman didn't immediately flee. Instead, he held Jinu's gaze for a long moment. Then his lips curved into a strange smirk before he dove beneath the surface.
But something was wrong. The merman was swimming away, yes, but not with his usual supernatural speed. He moved through the water as if struggling against the current.
"Ha! It's the storm!" the captain said. "The rough waters are slowing him down! This is it, men! This is our chance! Prepare the harpoons! Ready the nets!"
Pirates scrambled across the deck, hauling out their catching gear despite the danger. Someone cut loose the weights they'd been using as ballast, and the ship lurched forward with alarming speed, riding dangerously high on the waves as it pursued the pink-tailed figure in the water.
Jinu's heart hammered against his ribs. He gripped his pipa so tightly his knuckles went white. Part of him, the part that needed money for his mother and sister, knew he should be celebrating. They were about to catch a fortune. They were about to become rich beyond imagination.
But another part of him felt only dread.
"There! There he is!" the captain bellowed, his voice cracking with excitement. "All hands! Ready the nets and harpoons! Helmsman, bring us closer!"
Then… everything went wrong.
The ship lurched violently to the side with a terrible, splintering crash that seemed to split the world in two. The sound of breaking wood filled the air, louder even than the thunder.
"What was that?" someone screamed. "What did we hit?"
It seemed that the hull had struck something massive beneath the surface. Through the chaos, Jinu caught a glimpse of jagged rocks jutting up from the water like dark teeth.
Another crack echoed through the storm as more of the hull gave way. The ship listed dangerously to one side, and Jinu heard the unmistakable sound of water rushing in below deck.
"We're breached!" someone screamed. "Water's coming in fast!"
The captain's face, so full of greed moments before, went ash pale. "Abandon ship! Everyone to the boats! Move!"
Pirates abandoned their nets and harpoons, shoving and clawing at each other in their desperation to reach the small boats. The ship lurched as more seawater flooded through the shattered hull.
Jinu tried to stand, but the deck was too slick, tilted at too steep an angle. Another violent wave crashed against the ship, and he lost his footing entirely. He slid across the wet planks, his fingers scrabbling desperately for purchase but finding none. The edge of the ship rushed toward him. Beyond it, he could see the dark water churning, waiting to swallow him whole.
He heard his own voice cry out, thin and terrified, before he tumbled into the sea.
Freezing water closed over his head, filling his mouth and nose. He tried to breathe but found only water.
His hand was still clenched around something. His pipa. Even in his panic, even as his lungs screamed for air, he couldn't let go of it. It was all he had.
This is it, he thought, surprisingly calm as the darkness closed in. This is how I die. Mother and sister will never know what happened to me.
Then something powerful wrapped around his waist.
Jinu's eyes flew open underwater. Through the darkness, he saw a flash of dark pink. He felt the strength of muscled arms pulling him close against a broad chest.
The merman.
The creature surged upward with impossible speed, his powerful tail propelling them both through the water. In mere seconds, they broke the surface. Jinu gasped, coughing and sputtering as air rushed back into his burning lungs.
Behind them, the pirate ship groaned its final death throes, the hull splitting apart as it sank beneath the waves. The small wooden boats that had launched moments earlier were already overturned, battered by the merciless storm. Desperate screams of drowning pirates rose and fell with each wave, before being swallowed entirely by the thunder and roaring wind.
Jinu stared at the sinking ship, then turned his gaze to the merman who held him. Those golden eyes watched him back, unblinking and impossibly bright in the darkness.
Then a deep voice broke through the storm. "Ji… nu…"