FFM1-Mermaid Tears

She slinks out of the stone well, hair slick with moonlight.  Her head tilts upward. Wet stands contour to the spaces where shadows pool.

He bows his head. She rests her right hand against the back of his neck and peers into his burning eyes. She pulls away before he can open his mouth.

Behind them the well overflows with white chrysanthemums. They flourish and decay within the span of a single breath. Her gaze beckons him forward. “Pick one.”

With every shift of weight the fish scales along her bare legs glisten. The fox’s eyes trail up the arch of her foot and past the curve of her thigh. In the hollow of her hipbones rests a flower mosaic.

The fox spirit grins, exposing his fangs.

She hums in the back of her throat. Her webbed fingers tug at the scales. Within her cupped palms a red chrysanthemum unfurls. She curls his fingers over the flower. It feels like the earthenware finish of a sake cup. “Tell me your story.”

The fox spirit crushes the remaining flowers with his mortar and pestle. Stray petals stick to his papery skin.

She sips her sake. The moon wavers in her cup, winking in conspiracy. “In the end, they’ll always leave you. Whether they want to or not.”

“Not my human.”

She chuckles into her cup. Her breath causes her reflection to blur.

“She was kind.” He slides the mortar over to her crossed legs. “The worst thing any human can be.”

The fox spirit accepts the sake cup in exchange. “Her voice lingers in the folds of my kimono.”

She sifts her fingers through the fine powder before tossing it into the well. “That will pass with time.”

“You don’t understand.” His ears lay flat atop his head. “My brave, reckless human. I gave her an orb of foxfire to wear around her neck. It was only meant to be used for emergencies. To protect her when I couldn’t. I suppose she thought she had no choice. Demons were invading her village. She set her outer kimono on fire and led them into Yomi. They chased after her, hungry for human flesh. When I finally got to her she was nothing but a pile of marrow sucked dry. I buried her bones beneath white chrysanthemums. I never got to say goodbye.”

Her lashes flutter shut. It is the color of the space between stars. His hand rests along her cheekbone until the cup’s rim glistens with the tears of a mermaid.

“Your passage is paid.”

The fox spirit tips the cup back so that the moon devours the drink. Ripples spill across the surface until it overflows with golden liquid. He tilts his head back. It dribbles down his throat like honey.

“You’re crying.”

“It feels like her.” Clear tears cling to his long lashes. “Candied cherry blossoms. A flash of lightning during a summer storm.” The mermaid brushes her lips against his translucent eyelids. “I’d forgotten until now.”

Her webbed fingers trace the imprint of their mingling tears. They slide down the edge of his chin, across his exposed throat. “It’s been a long time hasn’t it?”

When he swallows she feels it. “Too long.”

He folds her hands over the empty cup. It morphs back into a red chrysanthemum. She lays it across his wet cheeks. It soaks up their remaining tears.

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

The fox spirit swallows. His throat is too full of fireflies to speak. He opens his palm and an orb of foxfire ignites. She falters then slips it around her neck.

In return, she presses the flower into the neck of his kimono.

He slips into the well head-first. Water fills the folds of his kimono. He sinks past the bottom and crosses over into Yomi.

From beyond, the mermaid whispers his name. It sounds like the patter of midnight rain. He tries to ignore the temptation. The mermaid’s skin, if consumed, would grant his human eternal life.