Shimako and the Undersea Kingdom

By Gintsuki Shikibu

Another world thrives beneath the waves...

Shimako and the Undersea Kingdom is an Urban Fantasy novel, based on the ancient Japanese folktale known as "Urashima Taro". The story follows Kamiyama Shimako; the 22-year-old son of a fisherman, living in a beach

• Language: English
• Publisher: Silvermoon Creativeworks
• Release date: Jun 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088027028

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SHIMAKO

AND THE UNDERSEA KINGDOM

BY GINTSUKI SHIKIBU

COVER ART BY FELICIA POPESCU

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my family, friends, and random internet users who supported this herculean endeavor; thank you. It wouldn’t have come together without you.

And to the love of my life who was the biggest fan of this story from the moment of its conception; a very special thank you. I’ve told you time and time again that this story wouldn’t exist in its current form without your help.  You’re just as responsible for it as I am.

And finally, to all the Japanese mainlanders, my fellow diaspora, Okinawans, Ainu, and weebs of all cultures… this ones for you.

Lets do this

PROLOGUE:

THE GODDESS OF THE EASTERN SEA

EAST CHINA SEA, THIRTY YEARS AGO

A violent crack of thunder snapped Taisho out of his slumber with a sharp gasp.  His cabin was still dark, but he could feel the angry waves brusquely rocking his boat.  It was odd, he thought to himself as he leapt out of bed and pulled on his clothes, there weren’t any storms predicted for that weekend. Nothing but clear, blue skies; perfect weather for bringing in a nice fishing haul.

He stumbled out onto the upper deck just as a surging wave breached over the railing.  If he were a second earlier, it would’ve knocked him overboard.  The sky overhead was coursing with lightning, striking down in every direction and lighting up the ocean like a laser light show.  Rain pelted the entire boat, soaking Taisho in a matter of seconds; he had no idea how he was going to get out of this alive.  This was the first time he’d taken his parents’ boat out all by himself, and it looked like it would be the last.

Suddenly, the boat rocked viciously again, knocking Taisho to the ground from the force of it.  He could’ve sworn that he felt something collide with the boat; something absolutely enormous.  It could’ve been a whale; it wasn’t uncommon to spot them in the area around that time of year.  It was certainly too large to be a shark or any other marine life, unless it was a giant squid very far from home.

Taisho tried to regain his footing, but the boat lurched to the side again as a gargantuan wave rose to the skies above.  Taisho quivered in fear, praying to every god he could think to name as the tower of water threatened to reduce him to little more than a memory.  However, just as he was prepared to kiss his life goodbye, the wave collapsed, revealing something that he never thought he’d see.

A dragon.

The beast was at least 60 feet tall, with a body so long and serpentine that comparing it to any animal would be redundant; it looked almost as though China’s famous Great Wall had come to life.  Its entire body was covered by glittering golden scales, and its head resembled that of a crocodile, but with two large fins framing its face.  The aura radiating off it nearly brought Taisho to tears; he didn’t know how, but he could tell this dragon was some kind of goddess, and that she was as regal as she was stunningly beautiful. 

He instantly fell to his knees and pressed his nose to the deck in a complete bow; was she responsible for the sudden violent storm?  Perhaps appeasing her was his ticket out of there alive.  Despite his show of adoration, the dragon paid him no mind; her gaze still fixated on the sea from which she’d erupted.  A moment later, Taisho found out exactly what it was she was looking at.

Another mega wave sent the boat reeling, very nearly snapping it in two. Taisho was thrown across the deck, slamming into the railing on the other side.  Excruciating pain shot through his back; he wasn’t sure if it was broken, but he was sure that he wasn’t moving anytime soon.  The wave parted to reveal yet another monster of the deep, but not a dragon; something far, far worse.

It looked like something out of an old Yokai folktale.  Whatever it was, it had the body of an enormous fish; slimy black scales, oozing with clear gelatinous fluid, huge, webbed fins and a forked tail.  But the head was that of a human woman, or at least, human…ish.

Her skin was as pale as moonlight and her eyes black as coal.  Where a human’s mouth would’ve been, there was a gaping maw with rows upon rows of sharpened, shark-like teeth.  Her black hair looked like clumps of rotting seaweed atop her head.  Taisho had no name for the monster he was staring at, but if the dragon was a goddess, that beast was a demon. There was no mistaking it; that thing was the reason for the storm, not the dragon.

Taisho could do nothing but sob as the two behemoths towered above his boat.  He didn’t know what tragic twist of fate landed him between this clash of titans, but he certainly never thought that he would die in such a way.

The dragon opened her mouth and unleashed a roar so mighty that it rattled Taisho to his core, shaking the boat around him as well.  The back of her throat glowed with orange light, before a blazing stream of fire shot forward, searing the fish-beast with red-hot flames.  The fish-woman cried out in what Taisho could only assume to be pain, before retreating into the sea, stirring up another brutal wave.

The boat barely survived the water slamming into it, and the pain in Taisho’s back was finally becoming too much for him to handle.  His vision blurring, he dared to look up at the dragon one last time.  As rain drenched his face, he saw the glorious golden goddess, but in a blink she had completely disappeared.  Perhaps he had hallucinated the entire thing?  Impossible, he wasn’t nearly that creative.

Fisherman? a soothing feminine voice stirred Taisho, forcing him to attempt to turn his head, don’t move, you’re injured,

Who’s there? he asked, his voice choked and strained.  A woman stood over him, finally entering his field of vision.  She looked like a Japanese woman, though perhaps the most beautiful one he’d ever seen.  Her skin was smooth and practically glowing, and her long, blonde hair was pulled into a topknot and secured with an elaborate pin.  Her crimson and gold robes looked almost like the kimono of the old days, but it also incorporated elements of traditional Chinese and Korean garments.

I’m Mizuchi, she said, her voice warm and soothing, I’m going to help you, okay?

She touched Taisho’s cheek, and he felt an electric shock jolt through his body.  His entire body seized up, but he could feel the pain slowly fading from his back.  Moments later, he felt better than he ever had in his entire life.

Mizuchi, thank you, he muttered, but as he looked up to see her beautiful face again, she had already disappeared.  The clouds that once hung heavy in the air dissipated, and the violent sea became calm and still.  It was as though the ordeal never occurred.

But Taisho knew different. He’d been touched by a goddess, and he wasn’t going to rest until he could see her again…

CHAPTER ONE:

THE FESTIVAL

 PRESENT DAY

There was a peace to diving that Shimako couldn’t quite describe.  The way the water blocked out the sounds of the world, how fish seemed to gravitate to him, and not to mention the way the sea felt on his bare skin; it was probably the closest thing to heaven anyone could expect here on earth.  Floating freely in the open ocean would’ve likely freaked most people out, but Shimako wasn’t like most people.  Ever since he could walk, he’d been drawn to the ocean; when he was finally old enough to join his father on fishing trips, he had to be forcibly restrained from jumping overboard to swim with the whales he’d see off in the distance.

Holding his breath never felt like much of an issue either; he’d already been beneath the waves for… well, honestly, he hadn’t been keeping track of how long it had been.  As a child his father would always have to remind him to come up for air; not because he needed to, but because other people would be freaked out if he didn’t.  Speaking of which…

Shimako finally breached the surface, taking in a lungful of air and shaking his wet hair from his eyes.  The sun glimmered against the surface of the blue-gray water as he paddled back to his barely functional old speedboat; the thing had been given to him by his dad, and it took nearly two months of work just to get the motor running again.

You bored yet? Shimako playfully asked, splashing water over the edge of the boat at the young man lounging inside, his youthful face staring down at his phone.

Hey watch it! If you water-log my phone again, you’re paying for it, the young man replied, never looking up, and of course I’m bored. You were under there for like fifty years,

Oh, shut up Jin, Shimako splashed yet again, causing Jin to recoil and dramatically tuck his phone away to keep it safe, it was only like, twenty minutes maybe,

Twenty minutes, fifty years, it’s all the same when you hate being on boats. Especially one that feels like it’s about to fall apart, Jin said, narrowing his eyes.  Shimako was more than used to his best friend’s complaining, but he always invited him along on his dives regardless.  Partially because he genuinely enjoyed the company, and partially because Jin was far from difficult to look at; with his clear, tan skin, his smile that only showed up whenever his passion was truly ignited, and his sharp jawline, chiseled to perfection by a true blessing from the genetic gods.

Shimako wasn’t quite sure when his crush on Jin started; it could’ve been when they were paired up for cleaning duty in junior high school and had to work together to clean the boy’s bathroom. Shimako knew he’d never forget how Jin smelled so good that it distracted him from the fact that they were literally scrubbing toilets.  Or it could’ve been in high school when Shimako nearly broke his ankle playing volleyball and Jin carried him to the infirmary bridal-style; being in someone’s arms like that would give anyone a crush.

Well, Shimako continued, you always manage to overcome your hatred of boats just for little old me. Aren’t I special?

Hell no, Jin scoffed, dramatic as always, the only reason I’m here is because you’re some kind of weird ass fish boy, and when you become a world-famous athlete, I’m gonna be right there as your publicist,

Shimako couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that one as he climbed over into the boat.  Just as he was pulling his tank top back on, he realized that they’d been out for quite some time.

Oh hey, what time is it?

About 4pm, Jin offhandedly responded, why, you need to be home?

Did you forget that the Dragon Scale Festival is tonight?

Oh shit, I actually did forget, Jin admitted, who are you gonna go with?

Oh, I actually didn’t have a date, Shimako said, not that he’d asked anyone anyway, but Jin didn’t need to know that.

Seriously? Every girl in town is insane over you,

That was probably a bit of an overstatement; Shimako was well known around town for being quite beautiful, but he was sure that not every girl was obsessed with him. And even if they were, he had no interest in them anyway.

You’re one to talk, Mr. Underwear Model, Shimako shot back, fighting his urge to giggle when Jin’s face reddened, "I specifically remember girls crowding around computer screens looking at those scandalous photos of you,"

I did one photoshoot and nobody in this god forsaken town will let me live it down, Jin rubbed his forehead in feigned frustration, anyway, I didn’t ask anyone either, considering that I forgot it was even happening. You wanna just go together and hang out?

Shimako’s heart lit up like a lightbulb.

Oh yeah sure, that’ll be fun,

Then let’s get back to dry land. You know it takes a while to perfect my look, Jin smirked.  Shimako rolled his eyes and twisted the key in the ignition about six times until the motor finally came to life with a sputter.

Soon enough they were approaching the only home they’d ever known; Urashima Town.  It was a relatively small place, so far from the larger cities that you couldn’t even get there through the regular train routes. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else, and their local traditions were considered strange by other Japanese people.  Shimako’s house sat right on the beach; little more than a glorified shack that he shared with his father.  The fishing boat was still gone, so it didn’t seem like the older man was back from his morning haul just yet.

I’ll meet you at the festival around 6, Jin said, waving goodbye as he peddled off on his bike.  Shimako walked into the house and his eyes lingered on his father’s bookshelf in the far corner of the front room.

The thing was completely cluttered with statues of serpentine dragons and figurines of Korean folk creatures.  Korean heritage was one of the first pieces of common ground that brought Shimako and Jin together, so he always found the figurines to be a sweet way to honor his family’s history, and a nice reminder of his bond with Jin.

Of course, the truly impressive thing in the room was the trophy case.

It sat next to the bookshelf; a glass box containing a beautifully crafted sword with a hilt seemingly made from sapphires, a necklace with a jade pendant that glowed in the dark, and a shield made of metal so pure that you could see your reflection in it.

Shimako had always wondered why his father never sold any of his trophies, but the old man always said that they were too precious to him; apparently, he’d gotten them on various adventures with his mother.

Shimako made his way into his bedroom, which consisted of little more than a thin bedroll covered with messy blankets, and a large trunk where he kept his clothing.  It was minimalist, but more out of necessity than personal choice; fishing wasn’t exactly the most moneymaking profession anymore, at least not when you were doing it independently.  It wasn’t completely desolate; his dad gifted him with action figures from his favorite superhero show, Kamen Rider, and he did have a few posters for his favorite Jpop idol group, Prince&Pauper.  But even with those flourishes, it was clear that they weren’t exactly affluent.

Despite their general lack of money, Shimako knew he’d have to look his best, because that particular Dragon Scale Festival wasn’t going to be anything like the others…

This time, he’d finally admit his crush to Jin, and hopefully come home with a boyfriend.

After about ten minutes of rummaging through his clothes, he finally found it; an absolutely gorgeous kimono, made of deep blue fabric and adorned around the sleeves with crystalline jewels that reflected the sunlight in an impressive array of colors.  Shimako smiled as he held up the garment, and he looked over to a picture of a beautiful young woman on his wall.

Mom, this is the best gift you could’ve given me. Dad told me that you were sure I’d grow into it, let’s hope you were right, he stopped on his way into the bathroom and spoke to his mother’s photo once more, wish me luck!

Once he was showered and dressed, he looked himself over in the mirror, unable to fight the urge to tear up; after all, he was nearly a spitting image of his mother.  He had her slender jaw, thick lips, and the same catlike, expressive eyes. Wearing such a fancy kimono and having his shoulder-length, oil black hair pulled into a topknot reminded him of her even more; the only photo he had of her showed her wearing a very similar outfit.

Shimako? You home?

The sound of his father’s voice shook Shimako from his thoughts and he quickly wiped the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes before leaving the bathroom.  Shimako’s father, Kamiyama Taisho, was a bit shorter than him, with leathery, wrinkled skin that made him look far older than he was at age 55. It was likely due to years spent laboring in the sun, pulling in nets full of fish. His greying hair was cropped short, but his beard was as unkempt as always.

Hey dad, how was today’s haul?

Seeing his son standing before him, dressed in the one thing his wife had left behind was clearly a lot for Taisho to take in.  He stood there, wide eyed and slack jawed, looking Shimako up and down for at least thirty uninterrupted seconds.

Dad? Are you okay?

Oh yes, I’m fine. It’s just that, you really do look just like her, he said with a wistful sigh, plopping himself down on the nearest chair, if only she could see you now. Are you all dressed up for the Dragon Scale Festival?

Yeah, I’m hoping to finally ask Jin to be my boyfriend, Shimako nervously admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up as the words left his mouth.

Ah, the Arigaki boy? his father chuckled, deep and raspy, you’ve had it bad for him since the day you two met. I hope it works out for you son, though I do have to caution you. You know how folks around here can be when it comes to people who are different,

Shimako nodded in understanding; one of the many things he and his father had in common, was their attraction to men.  For Taisho, his passion for women was equal, but Shimako had only been attracted to the same gender as himself.  Taisho had been completely accepting when Shimako came out to him, but he still encouraged his son to keep it a guarded secret, for his own safety.

But the time for all that was over.

Anyway, I’m sorry to put a damper on your spirits, his father continued, I really do hope you have fun tonight,

Thanks dad. I promise not to be out too late,

Good, we’ve got an early morning haul to bring in!

I know, I know! I’ll see you later,

With that, Shimako left the house and began the ride into town on his scooter (which was just about as old and dysfunctional as his speedboat). Sure enough, just about every young woman around his age that he passed waved at him and squealed when he waved back; it was like his was the town’s local J-pop idol or something.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the festival; Ginpei Beach was on the farthest edge of town and offered a great view of the boundless ocean, thus making it a perfect spot for such an important festival. 

The Dragon Scale Festival was mostly just a big party where everyone wore their best kimonos and danced the night away around a huge bonfire, but in the old days it was meant to commemorate an event in ancient history when a beautiful dragon goddess rose from the sea and blessed the starving people with one of her scales.  They apparently ate from it and went to live with her beneath the sea.  Shimako of course didn’t believe it, but his father sure did; in fact, it was a frequent bedtime story in Shimako’s youth.

All across the field there were lit torches, lanterns and dragon themed decorations, and in the center of it all was the massive, raging bonfire that Shimako could feel the heat radiating from even at a distance.

Well now, don’t you look like a prince straight out of a manga,

Shimako turned to see Jin, wearing a loose-fitting yellow kimono that was (of course) open just enough to allow a peek at his abs, despite the fact that it was going to get colder once the sun fully set.  Shimako had to fight his instinct to actually lick his lips and settle for just doing it mentally; the yellow popped perfectly against Jin’s light brown skin, and he worked on his physique tirelessly, so he deserved to be proud of it.

I could say the same for you, Shimako softly replied, you really look amazing Jin,

Jin’s lips curved into a grin.

Thanks, Mako-kun, you too,

Shimako felt every nerve in his body go haywire at the sound of his childhood nickname.  The first time Jin called him that name was when he was carrying him in his arms, years ago.

It’s okay Mako-kun, you’re gonna be alright. I promise,

So, Jin continued, forcing Shimako back to reality, should we find someone to dance with? All the girls look so pretty in their kimonos tonight,

Actually Jin, can I talk to you for a minute? It’s kinda important, Shimako tried his best to keep his nerves steeled, but he couldn’t fight the shaking in his voice.

Yeah sure, what’s up? Jin raised a curious eyebrow.  Shimako closed his eyes, took a deep breath and just decided to blurt everything out without thinking.  Like ripping off a Band-Aid…

I really like you Jin, he spouted, I have ever since we were kids. You’re talented, kind, super dramatic but in a fun way, supportive, and not to mention absolutely beautiful! I’ve been hiding this for a really long time but now I just have to ask… Jin, will you be my boyfriend?

Shimako finally gathered the strength to open his eyes, but to his abject horror, there was no smile on Jin’s face.  In fact, he was sickly pale, and his mouth was hanging open in what could only be shock.

Shimako… I, well… I don’t really uh… I don’t like guys. Not like that, I just uh…

And just like that, a massive weight crushed Shimako’s entire existence, reducing him to a child standing before the person he’d put on a pedestal for most of his life.

I… fuck, I’m sorry Jin, Shimako couldn’t stop the tears that time; they flowed down his face as he turned and ran, heading back to his scooter.

Shimako, wait! Hey, Mako-kun! Jin called after him, but Shimako was already speeding off.  The town was little more than a watery blur as Shimako rode home.  He didn’t even go inside; he simply parked his scooter, and ran down the beach, pulling off his kimono as he went.  Soon he was stripped down to just his underwear, diving beneath the waves just to have some solace from his own thoughts.

How could he have been so stupid? He should’ve known that Jin was only into women; he’d never expressed attraction to anyone else before, despite how long they’d known each other and how intimate their conversations could become.  He was a fool for letting himself hope; after all, hope had never gotten him anything before.

Shimako let himself drift absentmindedly, not even caring about how far he was getting from the beach or how deep he was sinking.  The ocean was a black void around him, pulling him lower and lower… but then multicolored lights danced behind his eyelids, forcing him to open his eyes.  What he saw shocked him so much that he almost gasped, taking in a mouthful of seawater.

It was a sea turtle, with a glowing, rainbow-colored shell.  Energy flowed from it in hypnotic waves, and Shimako could do nothing but stay perfectly still as it approached him.  The turtle brushed past him and Shimako grabbed onto its shell, allowing it to carry him swiftly to the surface.  Despite the frigid water, the turtle’s shell was warm and pulsed like a beating heart.  Shimako rested his head against it as the turtle moved hastily towards the beach.  Within mere moments, it made landfall, dragging Shimako along the sand.

What kind of turtle are you? Shimako mumbled, rubbing his eyes which were still stinging with saltwater, I’ve seen just about every type of turtle that lives around here, but I’ve never seen anything like you,

The turtle stopped its waddling and slowly turned to face Shimako.  The lights on its shell grew brighter and brighter until Shimako had no choice but to look away.  When the intensity finally died down, the turtle was no longer there; in its place was a young man.  He looked to be Japanese, or at least broadly East Asian; he had milky skin, pillow