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He heard a voice. Or something. It could've been all in his head, but... something about it felt real . It was nothing but a slow, soothing whisper, telling him something he forgot the second he heard it. But it was weird, the only one here was him now. Everyone else left the beach already. The were all too exhausted to try playing a shitty joke on him anyways.
And there it was again. He glances around, just to the sand and the buildings behind him. He didn't look into the water until he heard the voice again. It was too late for anyone to really be swimming. And... He shouldn't go out to check. But he felt like he had to. He needed to. The voice was telling him to. No. No, he wasn't going to. He shakes his head, covering his mouth with a hand. He insists to himself, that he should walk away. That he was tired, he should just go to bed.
He did nothing. He stares out into the dark, rolling waves, for longer than he ever intended to. Frustrated, he takes a step forward, stopping to dig his toes into the sand. Once he hears the voice again, offering him nothing but a small chuckle, he raises his hand from his mouth to clutch his hair. Goddamn it. Damn it all. Why was it so hard for him to just walk away? Even if it all was just a joke, why did he find himself walking forward, unable to stop his body when his mind was screaming at him to stop? He couldn't, he couldn't, he needed to find out what was calling for him.
While he was already ankle deep into the water, he drops his hand to his side, balling it into a fist. "You guys. If this is some kind of joke, it really isn't funny," he pauses. Growling out a swear and keeping his gaze hard into the dark sea. "It's stupid. Fuckin' amateurish, at best..." Saying nothing else, a shaky laugh passes his lips. Being in the water like this was making him feel some sort of subdued anxiety. It wasn't as if he were feeling safe, but... something was making him feel as if he shouldn't be as afraid as his own natural instinct was telling him to be. With that, he unclenches his fists, unable to realize that he had taken four big steps further into the sea. The water was already up to his knees and he wasn't afraid. He wasn't... He wasn't...
That's right... Let me take care of you, Youichi...
Just what sort of request was that? What did it want? What did he want? This was... This had to have been some kind of sick joke. He doesn’t recognize the voice, but he swears, it has to be a joke. It’s just a joke. He doesn’t stop to take a step back. He continues to move further in, slowly, until he was waist-deep into the water. The second he sees the ruddy shape of something lurking towards him, that's when he realizes it: There was something in the water. “You guys... This isn’t funny. ”
It's then that his heart begins to race and panic sets in. He was too far from the shore, he was standing there, waist deep in the pitch black water, because something forced him to go in that deep and that something was right there . He takes a few seconds, frantically glancing around before turning around to try and wade back to the safety of the shore. He makes it as far as to when the water has dropped down to his knees when he hears the amused tutting. Then he feels the hand close around his ankle. With a sharp pull, he's brought down into the water, and he gasps, swallowing the salt water and kicking his legs, trying, trying to get whatever was on his leg to let go. And he didn't. He couldn’t. It was a swift movement, to the point where he's barely able to register the sinking of sharp nails into one of his calves and the vice-like grip on his hair in an attempt to keep him close and in the water.
For a split second, he’s actually able to get the upper hand, pushing his attacker from off him and bolting to sit up, coughing up water and gasping for air all the while. As the cold, night air burns at his lungs, it seemed as if everything stopped. Nothing was happening. He’s still unable to completely steady his breathing, screwing his eyes shut when they start to burn from the salt water. He just hears the gentle, chiding chuckle, feels the brush of cold skin against his cheek, and despite his best efforts, no matter how much he wanted to back away, he... just...
Oh, Youichi... So stubborn.
Couldn't.
Let me take care of you, Youichi...
The sound of his voice, soothing, smooth as caramel calms him down, quells his crippling anxiety. The feel of hands on his shoulders, slowly tightening, forces him to open his eyes. Seeing him here, rosy lips upturned into a soft smile, he just couldn’t look away.
There’s nothing to be afraid of .
Without much resistance, he nudges Youichi into the water, sliding his hands from his shoulders, to his chest, finally up to his neck. Long, sharp nails dig into the flesh, and Youichi doesn’t struggle anymore. There was nothing to be afraid of. He was going to take care of him. He realizes that he can't breathe, and he could feel the muted panic trying to force itself to take control, taking a loose hold of his wrists in a vain attempt to stop him once he’s able to make out that such a gorgeous face had bared such sharp teeth. But... But ...
That’s right. Let the waves wash over you. You’ll be safe with me now.