Below him, the sea was calm, dark, patient. He let out a soft breath, letting the quiet night settle around him. This was the peace he treasured—far from ports, far from the noise of men. Just him, the wind, and the endless shifting tide.

Then a splash. Not the small, quick ripple of a fish breaking surface. Something heavier. Something... deliberate. A pause stretched, as if the sea itself was holding its breath, and then another splash, closer, right beneath his position

Kazuha narrowed his crimson eyes, curiosity flickering through the calm. He pushed off the railing, moving quietly along the deck until he found the shadowed spot where the hull met water. He crouched low, one hand resting on the damp wood, peering down into the dark

There, half-hidden beneath the shimmering surface, was a figure. The moonlight caught a flash of pale scales, a hint of movement, and the outline of something far too graceful to be any ordinary creature. A mermaid. He had heard the old sailors' tales, dismissed them as drunken nonsense. But here one was, real as the tide

Kazuha didn't move. He didn't reach for a weapon, didn't call out for the crew. Instead, he let the silence hang, letting her decide whether to flee or stay. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, unhurried, meant to carry just far enough