Lansi had no idea how much time had passed when he finally woke up. He opened his eyes and looked up—
The sky was still faint blue.
Below, the endless ocean floor stretched in every direction.
As a human, Lansi had long been accustomed to the rising and setting of the sun. But here, everything was the same—unchanging, eternal. To him, it felt more like hell.
He sat up slowly, only then realizing he was alone in the sea anemone.
"Winsor?"
It felt strange not to see him nearby. Lansi swam out of the anemone and spotted Winsor hovering above, silently staring at the coral bone wall's open mouth.
What was he doing?
Curious, Lansi flicked his tail and swam unsteadily to Winsor's side. "What are you looking at?"
Winsor turned and shook his head. "It's nothing."
Lansi blinked and followed his gaze. Schools of tiny blue fish drifted within the coral walls.
That's when Lansi noticed something odd.
"Wait… they're all still here? None of them left?"
The coral bones had gaps large enough to slip through, and though neither he nor Winsor had eaten, the fish hadn't tried to escape.
Winsor, who'd been watching Lansi closely, spoke in a calm voice. "Maybe… for them, staying is better than going."
The white mermaid being watched had no idea. He moved like a dancer, his translucent tail fins drifting like silken veils in the water.
Lansi pouted. "Then they're just stupid."
He swam around the coral structure, peering through the crevices. But there was no sign of the "tentacles." Confused, he turned to Winsor.
"Hey, have you seen those tentacles lately?"
Winsor seemed surprised. "Didn't you say you hated them? Why bring it up?"
"I just think it's strange," Lansi said, releasing a stream of bubbles. "Back when I was alone, that thing watched me every single day… but it hasn't shown up in a while now. What do you think it's doing?"
Winsor stayed silent for a moment before replying, his voice low and serious. "It's… something."
Then, as if sensing Lansi's unease, he changed the subject.
"You've always wanted to leave here. But have you thought about what's waiting out there? What would you do if you actually got out?"
Lansi hesitated, then smiled faintly. "I don't know… I just want to see the ocean for myself."
Winsor let out a quiet sigh, as if he were watching an impulsive child. "The sea is far more dangerous than you imagine. Why not stay here—face it all with me?"
Lansi swam closer, brushing his tail against Winsor's body playfully. "I never said I'd go alone. If we're together, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Winsor looked at him with surprise, a flicker of emotion in his deep gaze. "You'd stay with me?"
"Of course. The world's too big to face alone."
As he spoke, Lansi tried to recall the techniques Winsor had taught him the day before. When he turned, he caught sight of Winsor's tail—and stopped in surprise.
"Hey, Winsor—your tail… is it red?"
Winsor flicked it casually. "Just a trick of the light. You're seeing things."
"Oh." Lansi looked down at his own white tail, sighing. Winsor's deep black tail really did look more beautiful.
"So… when will I officially be your student?" he asked, swimming around him.
Winsor gave it a moment's thought. He glanced at the school of glowing fish nearby. "When you can hunt these fish on your own, you'll be ready."
"Got it."
Lansi immediately swam into the glowing school, scattering them like fireflies. Their fading fluorescence shimmered across the coral bones.
"So many fish," Lansi laughed as he swirled around.
Winsor's lips curled slightly at the sight.
While Lansi hunted below, Winsor drifted to the top of the coral structure and sat down, silently watching every move.
At first, Lansi failed as he always had. The glowing fish slipped through his fingers. His reckless movements made him crash into the coral more than once, the noise causing Winsor to frown. But he didn't intervene.
His little fish was growing.
Lansi slowly began to adjust, recalling everything Winsor had taught him. His learning ability was sharp—just from memory, he copied the techniques nearly perfectly.
All he needed was experience.
After three hours, Lansi finally moved with enough precision to leave only a blur in the water. He learned to use every muscle in his tail, merging with the current.
With a sharp strike, he pierced through the water and caught one of the glowing fish in his claws.
His first successful hunt.
Lansi lit up with excitement. He spun in the water, showing off like a child. Remembering that Winsor was watching, he swam up proudly and held out the fish like a prize.
"Look, Winsor!"
Winsor raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"I—I mean, look!" Lansi flushed, realizing he'd nearly called him something else.
Winsor smiled faintly, taking the fish and dividing it into clean slices. He handed most back to Lansi, keeping just one piece and discarding the rest.
Lansi blinked at the perfectly cut fillet in his hand. "Why throw the rest away? That's wasteful."
Winsor gave a wry smile. "Why not?"
Lansi chewed the tender fish in silence, slowly realizing that mermaids might hold a far higher status than he'd thought.
Once Lansi finished eating, Winsor reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "Does it hurt?"
"Huh?" Lansi followed his gaze and saw a large wound there. It wasn't bleeding—just peeled skin, with a thin white membrane forming over it.
Surprised, Lansi touched it. The membrane crumbled, revealing fresh pink skin beneath. "Whoa… I healed already?"
Winsor chuckled softly. "Mm."
As he stroked Lansi's shoulder gently, Lansi looked up, puzzled. "Are all mermaids like this?"
Winsor nodded. "We heal quickly."
"That's amazing." Lansi's eyes lit up, and he flicked his tail excitedly.
"But that doesn't mean you can be reckless," Winsor warned.
"I know, I know. I've only got one life, after all." Lansi grinned, then added brightly, "Since I can swim now, let's go! Let's get out while those tentacles aren't watching."
"…No rush," Winsor said calmly, though a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was hard to tell whether he was amused or exasperated.
Lansi tilted his head. "Why not?"
"There's more out there than you can imagine…" Winsor paused. "Monsters."
"Monsters?"
"And the black storm," Winsor added.
Lansi blinked. "A storm? Underwater?"
Before he could ask further, Winsor looked up and murmured, "It's starting."
Lansi followed his gaze. The once-faint blue above them was suddenly clouded—blackness seeped in like spilled ink.
The glowing fish grew frantic, darting around in erratic bursts of light. Their glow dimmed, and they flickered faster than before.
"Let's go." Winsor grabbed Lansi's wrist and pulled him back into the anemone.
Its tentacles had stiffened, no longer swaying but folding inward like a bud.
Lansi lay in the safety of the anemone, catching the scent of rust in the water. Even the taste of the sea had changed—sour and sharp.
"It's here," Winsor said.
A whirl of water tore through the sea, dragging black fragments in its wake.
Everything turned red, as if stained by blood.
The white coral bones darkened under the storm's pressure. The glowing fish were swept up in the current, shredded by black fragments that sliced through the sea like blades.
Lansi huddled in the anemone, frozen with fear.
Beside him, Winsor lay comfortably, stroking Lansi's hair.
"This," he said gently, "is the black storm."