(Maguro's POV)
There's something funny about sinking.
Not "haha" funny. More like "oh cod, I forgot water pressure is real" funny.
Because when the Bean Witch and I descended into the sea, I expected a grand, swirling magical return. A chorus of dolphins. Bubbles shaped like destiny.
A glowing portal.
Instead, I sneezed halfway down and accidentally summoned a trail of phosphorescent sardines.
"They're following you like lost thoughts," the Bean Witch muttered.
"Maybe they're just emotionally attached," I said, blinking as one floated too close to my left gill.
Yes. I had gills now.
Soft, fluttery slits behind my ears that tickled every time the water brushed past them. My arms shimmered with faint silver scales, and my hands had webbing between the fingers.
My hair drifted behind me, like kelp trying to dance dramatically.
And my eyes?
Still big, still weird. But now they reflected light like the deep sea — like secrets.
As we sank deeper, the surface above blurred into nothing, and I started to see it: the kingdom of the sea.
It had changed.
The coral palaces I remembered from my tuna days were cracked and dim, seaweed choked in black knots, and magical lights flickered like dying fireflies. Even the current felt sluggish, like the ocean was holding its breath.
The Sea King's realm was… tired.
Broken.
But still beautiful.
Like a shipwreck with stories.
We passed guards stationed near the kelp towers — armored merfolk with stern eyes, gripping tridents and spears tipped in glowing sea-glass.
Some of them did double takes.
"…Is that Maguro?"
"The tuna? She's got legs now?"
"She looks like she's wearing scales as makeup."
"Honestly? Serving."
I waved awkwardly. "Hi! I used to swim in circles, remember me?"
One of them saluted. Another whispered to a jellyfish.
At the heart of it all stood the Sea King's stronghold — a twisted shell palace rising like a spiral into the blue gloom.
Towers shimmered with old magic. Barnacles whispered in ancient tongue. The front gates were guarded by two giant lobsters with very official-looking eyebrows.
We swam in.
Inside was quiet.
I expected the Sea King to boom my name like before.
Instead, I found him sitting on a coral throne that looked like it had grown tired of being impressive.
His long hair, once flowing like ink, now draped limply over one shoulder. His crown was still there — coral and bone and glowing pearls — but his eyes…
His eyes were heavier than I remembered.
"Maguro," he said.
I bowed awkwardly. "Hi again."
He smiled weakly. "I see you chose humanity. But humanity did not choose rest."
"Nope," I said, floating a little upside down.
"They chose caffeine and taxes."
He chuckled.
And then he told me everything.
A rift had opened in the trenchlands to the east — an abyss that once held the chaotic leviathan Vritra, sealed away by the ancient rulers of the tide.
But the seal was failing.
Vritra's corruption was seeping out, infecting the sea — twisting creatures, stealing magic, rotting ecosystems. The Sea King's power, already weakening with age, couldn't hold it back.
But legend foretold a "bridge soul" someone born of sea and land who could restore the balance.
Guess who that was?
Yup.
Me.
"But I'm just a weird girl who owns a haunted café," I blurted.
"You are the only one who has stepped across the two worlds," the King said.
"I step into mop buckets too, does that count?"
Chiyo would've smacked me. I miss her sass.
Before I could spiral into panic, a voice behind me barked, "You've gotten soft, Maguro!"
I turned—and nearly screamed.
Floating toward me was an enormous, crab-armored warrior with a cracked shell shoulder plate, a glowing monocle over one eye, and a deep rumbling laugh.
"Commander Gaji!" I gasped. "You're still alive?!"
"Barely!" he boomed. "You left us to fight algae dragons while you pranced around with land legs!"
"They had coffee!"
"You betrayed the sea for bean juice!"
I tried not to laugh. He looked like a crab with opinions.
Gaji was my old mentor back when I was a retainer. He was part crab, part sea tank, all grumpy.
"Training starts now," he said.
"Let's see what your land limbs can do."
We went to the training ring — a hollow crater surrounded by floating stones, with illusion corals projecting holographic monsters.
The first test: a shadow eel with razor teeth.
I panicked.
And then — bam — something in me clicked.
I twisted in the water, spun fast, dodged a snap of jaws, and let instinct take over. My legs kicked with surprising force, and water surged around me like I'd called it.
I wasn't just swimming — I was dancing with the current.
I grabbed a shard of coral and flung it, sending it into the illusion's core. It shattered.
"Nice," Gaji grunted. "You're still weird. But effective."
We trained all day.
Fighting illusions. Dodging cursed currents. Summoning small bursts of sea energy.
Sometimes, my powers hiccupped — I summoned a trout instead of a shield.
Or screamed, and the bubbles came out shaped like ducks.
But Gaji said I had "potential." Which from him was practically a proposal.
Later that night, I floated outside the palace, staring up at the glowing plankton stars.
The Bean Witch appeared beside me.
"You were meant for both," she said softly.
I touched my gills. "It still feels wrong."
"It isn't. The sea remembers you. And the land still calls you. You are a rare echo."
I blinked at her. "That was poetic."
"I'm a Bean Witch. I live off metaphor and double shots."
She vanished.
I floated in silence.
Tomorrow, I'd begin the real mission, investigate the trench.
Face whatever was stirring.
Stop the abyss from swallowing both sea and surface.
I took a deep breath. Water rushed through my gills. It felt… natural now.
Like maybe I could do this.
Maybe being weird was my strength.
To be continued…