Kelp Forest

The salty water rolls and sways as the tide changes, plumes of oil lining the perimeter of the Suribachi coast. Trash of varying kind both float and sink farther out into the reaches of the ocean, where the oil has not yet touched. Far below the surface, where coral and a multitude of marine life is supposed to be habituated, only crabs and snails are to be found scuttling along the skeletons that were once living coral.   It’s disgusting, Dazai thinks while skimming the bottom of the bay. His right hand trails across the mucky sand, picky out random objects he finds to examine them. His left arm is overflowing in plastics of all kinds, and though he wants to keep trash-digging, he barely has any room left to carry more.    Dazai is just about ready to take off for a less open area, findings secured in both arms now, when he is knocked several feet away by pure force. His body hits the ocean floor hard, sand and gunk flying up around his figure.   “...Ow. I hate pain” Dazai remains where he is, at first ignoring the thing on top of him to watch as half an hours' worth of trudging and stinking his hands into the yucky sand scatter around.    “Ah? You're just a kid then.”   Hearing that, Dazai slowly turns his head, looking up at the one currently holding him down. Another ‘ningyo’, it seems, though with all the seaweed and algae on him he looks more like a large sea cucumber. The other boy also appears to be around his age.   “You’re a kid too…” Dazai says dully.  The stranger sneers, hands and tail putting more pressure on where he holds Dazai down. He doesn’t react, waiting for the other to just say whyhe attacked him.    It seems the boy realizes, drawing up a smirk, eyes widening into exited pearls of different shades. “As if I’d let the fucking Hatsugyo of all things into this bay. I’ve sure as hell never seen you in this area before and I’m definitely not gonna leave ‘ya alive!” He shoves at Dazai’s shoulder to prove his point.   Dazai blinks, slowly, reading the situation for what it is and thinking up his plan. Hah, I’m going to have sooo much fun with this~.   “Kill me already then, I’m waiting. Just make it painless.”   The other raises an eyebrow- or Dazai assumes he does, it’s hard to tell with all the stuff on his face- taking a second to consider Dazai. “You sure are a sick weirdo, huh.”   “Does that mean I’m not gonna die then?” he sighs out, visibly showing his disappointment.    He receives a snort. “I will fuckin’ kill ya’, oi. And whether it hurts or not depends on how much of a prick you be.”   He catches on quick, Dazai notes, a barely-there smirk appearing on his face.    “Or you could just hurry it up, King of The Pod.”   Dazai knows who this guy is, of course he does. Not by name, or from a past encounter, no. The Suribachi coast became talk of the South area several years back, many of the few fish habitats still around, even with the near inhospitable waters. Then a pod of dolphins, along with their ningyo to back them up, started making it their hunting grounds, thinning out most of the marine population other than themselves. Their rumored “King” prevented all physical backlash from those who opposed them. ‘A powerhouse of a creature’, some said, ‘a scary figure of the Suribachi waters.’ But Dazai knows some revered the Dolphin Pod and their King, seeing them as the protectors of the bay. He doesn’t get it himself, the whole thing just sounds like possessive and selfish fish-brains took over.   And the leading fish-brain is right here, pressing him harshly into the sand.   Miss-matched eyes narrow, some strange noise coming out of the stranger's throat. “Then die painfully, kid.”   With that, the also-a-kid stranger raises a fist and lifts his tail. He brings them down harshly, but the only thing he ends up hitting is the dirty floor, Dazai having squirmed out from under him so quickly he couldn’t retract the punch. The boy swiftly looks up, finding Dazai to have swam farther back.    He gives chase, and Dazai books it, maneuvering his body this way and that to keep distance while he gets out of the open. Unfortunately, this ‘King of The Pod’ is extremely fast.   Dazai finds himself once again tackled to the ground before he can reach anything for cover. The water cushions the impact, just a little, but landing on the ocean bottom still has his back aching. He takes action immediately, wrapping his tail around the other and twisting. The boy grunts, not letting up as he attempts to punch and smother Dazai at the same time.  “I’m NOT their King, alright?!” the ‘King’ yells, digging his fingers into the thin skin of Dazai’s stomach. Dazai makes a face at the pain.   “So you’re a dog then?” he wheezes out.   The stranger blinks. He keeps his damn fingers in Dazai’s midsection, as well as continues to hold down his head, but he stops putting in more effort.    “A what?”   “...You don’t know what a do-”   “Shut up!”     ~     Later the next day, Dazai takes his pile of goods with him to a kelp forest. He remains along the edge of it at he settles near the base, taking his time to lay out all that he’s collected today. Most of them are just plastic bags, with a couple of colored plastic materials that he isn’t sure what really are. Once he’s finished with that, Dazai begins the process of cutting the floppy plastics into finger-width strips. A few are to small to be usefull, so he just sews them to longer ones using thread he collected from a large net a while back.   As he sews, he hears the familiar sound of swooshing of a large creature. He doesn’t turn, already knowing who it is.   “Oi, dipshit, what the fuck are you doing?” comes the voice of Chuuya- because that’s the stranger’s name apparently -as he swims around Dazai to inspect what he’s working on. Dazai gives him a smirk and Chuuya sneers.   ‘“As if I’d want to hang around you!”’ he’d said. ‘“I have better things to do in my free time!”’ he’d said.    Obviously not, Dazai thinks, letting the thought be made clear through his face. The redhead (because apparently without all the gunk it was a rusty orange) raises his nose and doesn’t take the bait. Though it’s still obvious he’s thinking something along the lines of ‘I’m only here because you’re pathetic and I still need to kill you’.   “Are you blind, or is your brain as small as your height,” is what Dazai replies out loud.    “IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOUR LONG-ASS TAIL WE’D BE THE SAME HEIGHT! And yeah, I see your fuckin’ trash-covered bones! But that doesn’t explain shit!”   Dazai leans away from all the yelling. “Jeez, you must have lived around those sailors for a looong time, Chibi-tail-” another yell, this one with more cussing “-and your brain must be small if you think like that.”   “I’M SMARTER THAN YOU!”   “Whatever helps you sleep at night. And for the sake of your teeny-tiny brain, I’ll go ahead and help you out: I wear these lovely human trash pieces to act like bandages. I have no problem wearing human clothes, I just also want the bandages,” he explains while continuing to sew said ‘bandages’.    Chuuya puts a hand on his hip, eyebrow raised. “You can’t just cut up the clothes? Or use seaweed?” “Clothes are heavy enough in the first place, and I wear them specifically for when it’s cold. And I don’t use seaweed because they eventually shrivel up and become very uncomfortable. Plastic, specifically this floppy kind,” he holds up the one he just finished connecting, waving it in many directions to show the flowing movement “is very light, flexible, and doesn’t get uncomfortable.”   “I guess that gives the garbage some use then. The plastic is also given a different meaning, too.”   Dazai takes the jab with an exaggerated pout, glaring over at the boy. “I’ll have you know calling me ‘garbage’ is really hurtful, Chuuya!”   He smirks. “Good. You’re such a freaky bastard that ‘garbage’ is the least hurtful thing I can say.”   Dazai puts a hand under his chin, eyes wide and blinking innocently as he gasps and stares at Chuuya like he’s flustered. “Does that mean Chuuya considers my feelings then? Was that a compliment? How nice, I might just die!”   “Ew, no, what the hell? Don’t say shit like that!” Chuuya puts his own hands on his face, though he does it with a scrunched up look of disgust.   “...Yeah, I felt like throwing up as soon as the words left my mouth.”   Dazai turns away, covered eye facing Chuuya, feeling a little less happy than he was a minute ago. He goes back to cutting up the trash, everything silent in a very uncomfortable manor. He’s not going to ruin it though. Chuuya’s sure to get the idea and speak in a minute or two.    As predicted, Chuuya breaks the silence only a minute later.    “Oi, Shitty-bandages, where’d you learn to do that?”   He looks over to the chibi, finding the other’s interest set on the sewed up pile of plastic. “I know it may be hard for a loudmouth like yourself to understand the complexities of being quiet-”   “I MEANT THE FUCKING- THe- um, shit, that attaching-two-seperate-pieces thingy.” His face is red from the angry outburst, but it loses the heat when he trips up on his words.   Dazai smirks. “Oh, well why didn’t you just say that to start, Chibi-tail? Your brain must be small AND slow! Ah, just like a sea slug! You must be one too, huh, Chuuya?”   “BASTARD-!!!”     ~     Another day passes, another several hours of Dazai’s life spent in the shitties place he’s ever seen.    The self-made bandages are snug against his skin, trailing all the way down to his long tail. Secrets sleep under all the layers, of which he hates looking at. The silky materials make for a second skin that he enjoys much more, and the look on others’ faces whenever they sit him wearing them is absolutely hilarious. He almost wishes he could see it himself, but it's better that he can’t.   He once again is making his way towards the kelp forest, only bringing a single item this time. His tail moves slowly in its usual up-and-down motions, but he still makes it to the same spot as yesterday in faster time than he was wanting. This leaves him lingering around, floating in between the giant kelp leaves while he waits for Chuuya to show up. He knows the tempered boy will, even if it hadn’t been discussed the day before.    Except, as Dazai just loafs around, finding absolutely nothing to do, time continues to pass without the redhead ever showing. After too long, Dazai becomes both annoyed and curious. Annoyed, because he can tell Chuuya isn’t the kind of guy who would just ditch him like this, so something or someone else is obviously holding him up. Curious, because those in Chuuya’s pod would be the only beings capable- aside from himself -of actually managing such a feat.    Dazai decides to just go ahead and look for the hot-headed boy, seeing as there’s nothing else to do and waiting accomplishes nothing.   Chuuya never brings up his pod, and he certainly didn’t tell Dazai where they were stationed for the time being, but he can deduce the location based on all the remaining fish grounds and the least polluted areas.   Dazai arrives at in more shallow waters of the farther coastline, closer to the land than he normally prefers. At first, everything just looks bare- well, trashed like every other part of the Suribachi waters, but devoid of life -until he spots estranged moment tucked behind some rocks.    “...”   He slowly approaches, already sure about what he will find. Sure enough, cratered between several large rocks, is Chuuya, thin, red tail covered in bloody punctures and wrapped in painfully tight net wire.    “...Chuuya,” Dazai speaks out, slowly.   Chuuya doesn’t look up at first. He probably heard Dazai when he approached and now doesn’t care to respond. However, after a minute Chuuya does turn his head to stare Dazai down.   “If you don’t leave, I’ll kill you,” he says with a rumble leaving his throat.    Undeterred, Dazai sits himself (as much as he can in water) on top of one of the rocks, looking down at the other boy with a calm face.    “So The Pod tried to kill you, huh?” Dazai says, disregarding the others' previous threat. “Not surprising, they were clearly using you after all.”   Chuuya glares at him, mouth twisted into a feral sneer. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare talk about them like that.”   Dazai smirks. “Uwa~ How loyal! To bad they couldn’t show the same graditude towards yo-”   “SHUT UP!”   Unlike any time Dazai is sure Chuuya would be cussing out a storm, he remains quiet after that simple outburst. Dazai doesn’t speak up either, letting them fall into a tense silence that stretches and stretches for longer than he tries to count.    Chubby won’t talk so Dazai won’t either.   Chuuya doesn’t ask for help and Dazai doesn’t offer any.   Chuuya…looks like he lost everything, eyes brimming red, the blood of his wounds smogging the water around him in red clouds.    Absolutely beautiful. The sight is horrendous in a way that makes a twisted smile appear on Dazai’s face, and he doesn’t bother to hide it as Chuuya watches him with narrowed eyes.   “You’re sick,” he snarls, eyes full of unbridled murder.   “And you’re dying.”   More silence. Eventually, there is barely any light shiny through the waters, indicated the end of the day. Exhausted and lacking blood, Chuuya passes out.    Dazai waits a while, numbly watching the particles of the water drift around, reflecting in the dimming light as if they’re little stars that have fallen from the sky into the ocean. Once even those flicker out, he finally moves.    Dazai cuts away the wire net wrapped around Chuuya, though it takes a very long time with only the small metal shard he carries around. Once finished, it’s nearly impossible to see anything ninety centimeters in front of him, but he picks up Chuuya anyways (Holy hell the chibi is heavy) and swims them both to the kelp forest.      ~ “Nnnnnuuuuugh…”   Chuuya groans, eyes sore and refusing to open. Actually, no. His whole fucking body feels sore and won’t cooperate when he tries to move.   What the fuck? Rrrgh, my head fucking hurts…oh…right…     With all the strength he can muster, Chuuya pulls himself up, wincing and surely making faces with each stinging sensation that pulses through his tail. When he finally opens his eyes, it’s to the sight of bruises littering his torso, dirty pieces of material- he doesn’t know what kind -wrapping his tail beginning to end, and a stitched-up gash on his stomach.   The wound from Shirase…Wait.   He takes a deep breath, rubbing his head before looking back down, still seeing the same damn things. Cleaned and covered wounds.   That damn mackerel-looking piece of shit…   Chuuya groans again, deciding to just lay back down. But as soon as his back touches the sand, something digs into his skin and he jolts back up. Chuuya grabs for whatever the fuck he just layed on, only to find a band of black plastic.   It’s clearly braided threads that each end in a single long string. With both strings tied together, it makes for a large, simple-looking bracelet.    Obviously, Dazai was the cause of this as well.    Chuuya studies it a bit longer before growling and tossing it away. Unfortunately, water is water and the shitty piece of plastic just floats upwardsbefore swaying back towards the sand. Chuuya doesn’t bother picking it back up, instead laying down now that there was nothing sitting underneath him.    He does not sleep. ~     Dazai is swimming languidly through the water when something- likely a rock -hits his head.   “Ow!”   He places a hand over the sore spot, glaring over at Chuuya who-Oh god he has more!   “I-”   “Chuuya-”   “-am-”   “-don’t be-”   “-going-”   “-an ung-”   “-to-”   “-rateful-”   “-kill you.”   “-brat.”   Needless to say, Dazai gets tackled to the ground. Hard.   “Fuck! Stop doing that-”   “YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE SHIT! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! IF YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN I’LL BRING YOU BACK FROM FUCKING HELL AND KILL YOU AGAIN!”   “...Agai-?”   “BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO RIP YOU TO SHITTY SHREDS RIGHT NOW!” Dazai’s face is slammed repeatedly into the sand, stopping several times to shove copious amounts of it (along with all the horrid grime caked in) in his mouth. Then Dazai’s own bandages are used to strangle him, again, many times. Even once that’s over, Chuuya still isn’t done! The brat punches the hell out of him and twists up his limbs until they burn.   “GAH-! OI CHIB- LET ME SPEAK!”   Thanking whatever non-existent god out there, Chuuya stops, though he obviously doesn’t release Dazai yet.    “You don’t have a right to speak, filth fucker-” “Oi” “-So stop yapping!”   And then they’re back to bullying-and-being-bullied. It feels like several hours pass before either of them is quiet and not trying to fight or swim away, but eventually the two of them are back on the sand, stretched out and catching their breath. And, Dazai blames this on the myriad of concussions he just received, he starts laughing. From the corner of his eye he can see Chuuya attempting to glare at him but instead ends up in a laughing fit as well.    It’s admittedly a nice feeling, and Dazai can see why everyone else does it. Laughing bubbles in his stomach different from hunger or pain (both are apparent right now so he can definitely tell the difference) and it warms up his body in such a pleasant way. Even his tail can feel the niceness of joy.    He rolls over to Chuuya, grinning at him with all his teeth.  “Ha- you -hehe- are such a -pfft ha!- brutish kid…”   Chuuya snorts, giggles still spilling from his mouth as he struggles to respond.   “S-sure- ehehe ha -but t-that’s o-only- hahaha hehe! -beca-ause y-you’re such a- gahehehe -such a skelat-ton of- ha -of a bastard…”   Chuuya’s constant mess-ups only prompt Dazai to laugh harder.   “Bwahahaha! Y-You’re brain is s-so- ehehehaha! -so small it can’t p-process- hehehe -any words!”   “SHUT UP YOU-YOu- pffhehehe! -f-FUCKING MACKEREL!”   Dazai cuts off his laughing in favor of glaring at audacity that is this fucking shorty.   “Haaaa?! Your eyes must be severely messed up too if you think I’m some tiny fish like you, Chuuya!”   “Waste-of-bandages!”   “Chibi-Tail!”   “Mackerel!”   “Sea Slug!”   “Pathetic scumbag!”   “Dog!”   For the up-teenth time, Dazai is tackled onto the sand.  ~     +One:   Green kelp sways softly while the currents of the water flow around them, allowing Chuuya to float back-down without moving a muscle. It’s relaxing, the gentle movement of the waves surrounding him whole-heartedly while he remains still. Thinking also becomes easier, loosening his mind as thoughts spill out without effort.   Of course, reminiscing has become a common practice for quite some time now. The slight itch of the braided plastic on his neck remains the most attributing.  Chuuya keeps his eyes closed the whole time, even though the bright sun above the ocean waters hardly shines down to where he is.    The kelp forest was an aching surprise when he first found it, bringing forth memories of old that he, at the time, would have much rather kept locked away. However, like some sickness that just wouldn’t part from him, he found himself coming back to the place over and over again. The past had never been so present as it was whenever the kelp forest was in his peripheral vision.    Suribachi, of course, was one of the first things that always popped into his mind. The coastal waters and their dirty sea floor. All the trash littering each crevice to be found. The originalcluster of kelp that had long been stripped away by the humans. It was all so disgustingly beautiful in his mind.    The Pod wasn’t something that he thought of as often, though all the years he spent with them, and all the years he spent missing them, tended to surge back up every now and then. He didn’t fight it, wanting to be able to remember his first family that his broken childhood conceived.    What he didn’t want to remember was the trashy bastard that left all those years ago. Turned himself human somehow and escaped onto land.   But Chuuya’s brain was fucked because this, that absolute piece of whale shit, was a parasite that just wouldn’t fucking leave even if he physically already did.    He remembers how they met. Chuuya, alone in the icky surroundings of Suribachi, finding another boy digging through the sand, long, blue tail curling and swaying in the most fascinating ways. The anger he felt that another being outside of The Pod had dared to be in his territory. He remembers the fucker finding him on the day that his family tried to get rid of him for their own safety. Being wrapped up and sewn back together by the hands of someone he’d only just met. He remembers when the necklace, still worn to this day, was tied around his neck, small enough to not block his gills.   Dazai had laughed when Chuuya wrapped the necklace around his wrist, calling him names but nonetheless correcting where the self-made “collar” goes.   The lore of Dazai himself was never talked about between them, even when it seemed like conversation or action came close to the topic. Why the Mackerel was dubbed Hatsugyo (in hindsight it was pretty obvious) due to his many bandages that layered him like another skin, making him, from a distance, appear mummy-like.    And then of course, all of their years spent teasing and pranking each other, spending day after fucking day getting under each other’s skin…      Dazai always called him a dog. A running joke fitting his anamorphic spurdog tail. Chuuya knows more about them now than he did before, but something that always stuck with him was how loyal and protective those land dogs are. No matter how insulting Dazai tried to make the comparison seem, it was obviously more complementing and encouraging.     It’s not like Chuuya’s clinging onto the past, much less Dazai, but he can admit to himself that he misses things.    No, he doesn’t try to live in the past with that bastard and his freakish blue tail. No, he isn’t going to pretend it never happened.    Chuuya is only going to remember. And let it go as he always does. As it always ends up happening.