A/n: This story is actually based off an original one I'm thinking about writing. I decided to try it on fanfiction to test the waters a bit. Let me know what you all think!

I'm pretty sure I was born into the wrong family.

They were all just so vain and full of themselves, but then again, weren't sirens supposed to be?

Being inhumanly gorgeous did give one a particularly large ego—it practically came with the territory—yet this logic did nothing to dissuade my distaste for my own kind.

Not to mention their rather...cruel tendencies. Mom was an expert in the art of seduction; luring men from shore with a simple sultry bat of her lashes, only to drown them in the sea and giggle as they struggled for breath.

My sisters found it hilarious.

I found it disturbing.

Maybe it was because I knew I was part human—my mom had come across a man she found especially handsome and nearly stalked him to China to get in his pants—and perhaps I sympathized with the men because my father had met the same fate. Or possibly it was because I wasn't as pretty as the average siren girl, and therefore wasn't so self-absorbed. Regardless the reason, I was different from everyone else I knew, and my days in the ocean grew more and more miserable the older I got.

At ten I was always the last in my class to be picked in eel toss, if at all. At fifteen I was the only one in my entire school without a date to the freshman tidal ball. And even now, at the ripe age of eighteen I was still dateless, and friendless besides my sisters, who spoke only when no one else was around to witness it.

I was the town pariah, and slowly but surely digressed into the classic introvert; avoiding all and any interaction between me and my peers and spending my free time in my room curled up on my bed with a scroll.

Doomed to be bored and lonely for all eternity.

I would catch glimpses of my sisters out the window sometimes; flirting with boys and gossiping with friends. On one occasion I was foolish enough to wave, and was rewarded with a irritable scowl as they ushered everyone away.

That had been the last straw for me, and from then on I schemed plans of escape.

It was a stormy evening in the month of September that I had finally come across a solution to my distress. It was so simple I berated myself for not thinking of it years ago.

I would leave the ocean.

Mom was scandalized by the idea.

"No!" She exclaimed in that lilting voice of hers. It was the same enchanting voice that was responsible for the death of hundreds of men, and the very same voice urging me to stay with her and my siblings.

"It's dangerous out there Tenten!" She shouted, face etched in worry. She clasped both my hands between her soft, slender ones, "What if you get eaten by a bear? Or killed by one of those steam-blowing contraptions!"

It would be better than dying from boredom.

Of course I didn't tell her that, she would chain me to my bedpost.

"Is this because Kiba called you ugly?" my older sister Kurenai queried, elegant brow arched. She resembled our mother the most, with her luscious dark curls and pouty lips. "Because he was totally joking–no need to take it so personally."

Kiba was my intended husband to-be and the son of my mom's best friend. To say he wasn't fond of me would be a severe understatement, as he constantly berated me in public and embarrassed me by hitting on other girls while I was right beside him.

I pictured his cocky face and doubted he was merely 'joking' as Kurenai put it.

Not that I cared. He could get swallowed by a beluga whale and I wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"Or because you're never invited to dances?" The younger one Hanabi suggested thoughtfully. She looked more like her father, her features sharp, and eyes a bright violet, "You can come with me and Konohamaru to the next one if you want."

I blanched at the thought. She and Konohamaru were thirteen.

I turned a pointed look to my mother.

"See what I mean?" I demanded, "I don't fit in. Even my middle school sister has a date and I don't!"

Mom sighed, her brown eyes troubled. She had to know I was miserable here, it was painted in the dejected posture of my tail, the sickly pallor of my skin. I was desperate, practically begging to escape, yet she still had the nerve to fold me into an embrace, squeezing tightly and whispering in my ear,

"Don't leave. Someday things will get better, alright?"

My face crumbled at her words.

They wouldn't. She knew they wouldn't. So why did she insist I stay?

We both knew I would never belong here. I had inherited too many human traits to live a normal siren life. I was too compassionate, too empathizing, and far too innocent. Not only that, but I didn't even look the part. My eyes were wide and candid, my face an open-book, and my body not voluptuous enough.

I was constantly looked down on for resembling my human side far more than my siren side, and often told by my peers I should just save my family the grief and disappear. And each time I told my mother, she would merely smile tightly and promise someday it would all "get better."

I was tired of waiting for someday.

So I wrenched from her grasp, noticing her wounded expression but not caring in the slightest.

Because she was selfish.

The realization stung all the way to my toenails, but it was true. It was the very core of what she was. She had chased down my father for her own selfish gain, claiming she loved him yet knowing of his fate if she laid with him. She knew I was hurting—she just didn't care.

She wanted me to stay anyway.

So I packed my things and snuck out under the cloak of nightfall, more than ready to finally be rid of this hell I called home.

I was silent as I swam through the corridors of our large estate, my seaweed-constructed bag biting painfully into my shoulder. I passed Kurenai's room first, her head tossed back and face still unearthly beautiful despite her trailing drool and wall-reverberating snores. Hanabi's door was closed tight; as she was deathly afraid the 'sea-goons' would enter if she left it open. I rolled my eyes.

Wasn't she too old to still believe in monsters?

Then I passed my mother's room.

I lingered.

Above her bed was a painting. She had gotten it made just a few months after Hanabi was born. The artist was a talented old Siren by the name of Sai, who was so ensnared by my mother's beauty that he begged her for years if he could capture her essence in a painting.

She agreed, but only if he would paint her daughters as well.

And he was more than happy to oblige her request—until he saw me.

"This is your daughter?" He demanded skeptically. His aged face twisted in distaste, making him seem even older. "How did such an ordinary thing offspring from such an enchanting being as yourself?"

I had fiddled with my hair self-consciously, more than a little embarrassed by his observation. Eight year old Kurenai snickered while Hanabi gurgled in my mother's arm.

"Perhaps she should sit out?" The artist suggested mildly, cutting his eyes at me "I wouldn't want to ruin such a promising work of art."

My eyes stung badly, the pressure building behind them nearly unbearable, yet I refused to cry. If there was one thing I had learned by six years old, it was that people thrived off my tears. So I turned away, pretending that the words didn't affect me when in reality they were shredding me to pieces.

My mother was livid, her usually friendly demeanor evaporating to one of deadly promise. She set her jaw defiantly, snarling,

"If you don't paint my daughter then you don't paint me."

Sai ended up giving in to her demands, though begrudgingly.

At the time I was overjoyed that my mother had fought for me, but as I grew older her actions revealed themself to be a mistake.

The painting was just a reminder of how I would never be like them.

I crept to her bedside, studying the woman who had brought me into this world. She truly was stunning. Her pale skin was like smooth marble; strong and unyielding. He lashes two dark fans across her cheeks. Her tail shimmered in the moonlight, just as enticing as the rest of her.

It hurt to look at her, so I turned my back and left.

My chest felt heavy as I made my way to the surface, breaking free of the icy depths and relishing in the glow of the moon. The weather was particularly stormy this night, wind biting at my cheeks and rain falling in my eyes. Shivering, I shoved my hair back to gaze at the sky, watching as the clouds danced and the waves crashed into the cliffs miles off.

It was wonderful.

I swam against the current, fighting my way to shore until I felt the softness of sand beneath my fingertips, the tiny pebbles scratching against my cold skin. My lungs were on fire by this point, and I gulped up mouthfuls of air at I dragged myself out of the water, huffing like a bull-shark. The sand was still warm despite the weather, and I lay there on my back, allowing the rain shower me in kisses as I grinned to myself.

I did it.

I was free.

A laugh bubbled in my throat.

I was actually free.

My tail was flapping about joyously, slapping in the shallow tide before melting away in streams of blue, revealing two bare legs. I began wiggling my toes, happy to get feeling into them after so long. The beach was pretty deserted this time of night, so I wasn't abashed by my nudity, letting the storm wash away the leftover sand from my hair and skin with a serene expression.

Finally.

As far as I knew I was the only siren that could actually preform a complete transformation. The others could cast an illusion of legs, maybe even posses them for a short while if they were advanced, but nothing like this. These were actually mine.

I rose to my feet on unsteady limbs, stumbling every other step as I made my way clumsily across the sand. A particularity rough patch had me careening back to the ground, knocking the breath out of me and filling my mouth with rocks.

I moaned.

Ouch.

Damn, these things were much harder to use than I remembered. I didn't exactly get to practice much, living in the ocean and all, so my experience was limited. Walking was obviously more difficult than it appeared.

What did I trip over anyway?

Curious, I rose into a sitting position to study the mossy lump, brows pressing together.

Was something buried here?

I gave it an experimental poke with my toe, watching in awe as some the gook tumbled away to reveal a grime covered arm. A grime covered human arm.

My heart skittered.

A person?

I jumped to attention then, tugging away the rest of the sludge with vigor. It was rather tough in texture despite its gooey appearance, and scraped harshly against the skin of my fingers, yet I persisted, determined to free this trapped individual.

Because I knew what it felt like to be trapped and alone.

The rain that I enjoyed only seconds before suddenly became a nuisance, blurring my vision and tangling my hair in my face. With a frustrated yell I pried away the last of the mud-coffin and was floored by the dazzling pair of eyes peering up at me from beneath filthy lashes.

They were like twin rainbows, reflecting every color imaginable back with twice as brilliance.

I stared.

What in the worl-

"What?" His raspy voice snapped, effectively breaking the spell, "Can't you recognize a god when you see one?"

I goggled.

A...god?

My life just got a whole lot more interesting.

A/n: just a teaser to see if you guys are interested. Review if you want more!