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There is something new in his home.
Kunikuzushi can hear them wailing once the false sun above gives way to darkness, the bioluminescence of his home granting all the light he needs to move around. They are not in his home — not yet, anyway — and so he cares little for their existence besides acknowledging that they do indeed exist.
This is a normal occurrence, and sooner or later his home will be quiet once more
The humans have taken care of him long enough that their flimsy methods are deemed suitable, and as he settles into the large alcove of rock and seaweed, he rests with that given fact pushed to the forefront.
Perhaps someday, the newcomer will understand. This is not their territory, and if the humans do keep them, they will exist far from Kunikuzushi’s eye.
That is how it has been, and that is how it will stay.
Perhaps someday, the humans will learn to accept the rules of his personal seas.
The stranger is wailing again, but closer than ever.
Kunikuzushi unfurls himself and cracks open an eye, staring out past his hollow’s entrance to try and gauge how far the source remains. It’s in this focus that, through the deep blue, he feels the intermittent thud. A steady knock sends ripples through his realm, startling the fish he rules over, their bodies twitching to get away.
Oddly enough, the force is greater than that of the human offspring running their nails upon the glass, their hubris trying in vain to draw his attention. No, the thudding feels heavy, its purpose meant to buckle more than entice, and as one particular slam makes the mer sit up, he cannot ignore it any longer.
The stranger is wailing again — a deep, lonesome lamentation — but where previous wails held no words to decipher, Kunikuzushi can just make out his distress.
The stranger, it seems, is a mer.
The stranger, it seems, knows there is one nearby too.
A border dispute, instinct offers. Static crackles along the tank floor as both scepticism and anticipation clash, creating a paradox Kunikuzushi has yet to untangle. This is not the first time the humans have tried to place mers in the same realm, their methods outdated and under-researched, and a part of him hopes this next encounter removes the thought entirely.
Fo Kunikuzushi has worked for his solitude. He plays their games and ignores the bared teeth of onlookers at his existence — he has spun and twirled and dazzled all to their hearts’ content. Within this tiny ocean, he is their king, and if they so much as think they can change the ecosystem they have created, then they should have left him to die within that death trap of a reef.
It’s simple: He swims alone.
He always has.
And if he has to kill another mer to get that point across, he will.
"Hmph."
Which begs the question: Does this mer feel like trying their luck?
As hands dig into the gravel and tentacles curl around the rock’s edge, Kunikuzushi hurls himself up and forward, tentacles drawing behind him to create a quicker and easier swim. Jellyfish mers are rare creatures, as elusive as they are beautiful, and as the tank’s lights illuminate the array of opaque purples and blacks, he almost wishes it was darker to conceal him entirely.
Such a thing is instinct talking, he realises — an outdated feature of his species, now buffered down from life under human watch. And sure, what they drop into his realm for hunting is sufficient, but even the mer knows that the build-up to a hunt is far more satisfying than the first bite.
So, among the darkened weeds and giant coral, he weaves, the unseen border coming up so quickly that he needs to slow down. By then, the strange mer’s wails are easier to decipher — a song being sung with a gravelly voice — and as Kunikuzushi spots a shadow pass to his right, he catches a glimpse of something dark.
It’s dimly lit past his border. Perhaps the humans need to desensitise the mer to the false suns?
“I can hear you, you know.”
The jellyfish mer, against all odds, flinches like a guppy.
The stranger has stopped singing.
The silence that follows feels heavy with tension, two unseen forces just waiting for a response, their presence known to all who matter. Pride keeps Kunikuzushi rooted in a place far greater than fear, but the stranger seems content to traverse the border’s edge — back and forth, back and forth.
Restless. The stranger is just as anxious as he is.
“I’m not going to hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Kunikuzushi isn’t. The humans would never let that happen, right?
“What are you doing in my realm?” Instead, the jellyfish mer draws his lips and facial fins back to hiss, static rolling across his body to offer a brief glimpse of his silhouette. By then, his array of stingers has fanned out, making his body look far bigger than it is. “Scaring my subjects, disturbing my sleep…You have a lot of nerve, mer!”
The weaving form slows to a stop, and it's at this moment that Kunikuzushi cannot help but gauge its size from the tail fin alone.
Huge. This mer must be for a far larger tank—
“I wish I could say I’m doing it on purpose, little thing, but I’m not.” The amusement in the mer’s reply is palpable; Kunikuzushi almost expects it to laugh. “Now, why don’t you come out from there and we talk face to face? It’ll save us the hassle of unnecessary biases, and the ocean knows how deadly those can be.”
The jellyfish mer cannot help but bristle at that, fins shuddering from indiscriminate indignation. Size doesn’t matter. This is his home, not the intruders!
And…he is not small!
It’s petty — immensely so — to launch a couple of tentacles at the invisible barrier and the mer behind it, but he does so nonetheless, watching the discharge flicker and die in an instant. He is quick with it too, each slam held within a blink of a human’s eye…and yet the strange mer only laughs in delight, its large body manoeuvring to brush its tail upon the falling stinger ends.
“Perhaps I am mistaken,” It crows, seemingly more enticed than prior. “You’re already in the fighting mood!”
Flecks of white scales show themselves among the black — Kunikuzushi spots dapples of scarring too, the accents trailing up and up until he spots sunset coral among a deadly blue. It’s so unlike the monochrome colouring that he has to frown, but where the large mer seems to juxtapose him in every way, one thing stands out once he settles.
A smile — sharp teeth so hopelessly bared.
“Come on out, oh sparky one. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Shrouded in shadow, indigo eyes narrow out their scepticism, and against better judgement, Kunikuzushi pushes on.
At the border, all he has is his words; his subjects have long since fled, and his stingers have long since retracted back to him. It’s a problem, and a big one too.
Yet, as instinct dictates, fear has gotten a mer nowhere, right?
He has to face this head-on, so he does.
“Make this quick,” Kunikuzushi flares out his hood and chest alike, a scowl sculpting his face as he draws himself out from the entangled weeds. It’s a stark contrast to his opponent — where he seems to exude elegance, something more hardened contrasts that.
It makes his facial fins flutter. “Because you’re not special. Go bother someone else, mer.”
In the open, surrounded by nothing and separated by everything, Kunikuzushi has never felt so small.
And the strange mer?
Well.
Dare he say it, but those eyes seem…Far more interested than hostile.
Humans are the enemy, or so he thought.
They steal fish in their gargantuan nets quicker than scouts can see them open, and if alerted to the ocean’s counterattacks, they hurl their silver weapons into the sides of his comrades, pinning them effortlessly to the ocean floor. Blood spills whenever a human is near — be it from fish or mer alike — and they all fade away into the horizon, leaving an ocean stained and their hands clean.
Ajax hates them. They take and take and take without mercy — without honour!
Such hatred, however, comes into conflict with his current situation: injured, yet healed — free, yet oh so caged.
The humans had saved his life, but the mounting costs now seem far too great. Should he have panicked as he did, the ocean awash with red as far as the eye could see? Perhaps not. Perhaps he should have just accepted it, falling deeper into the trench of death.
For when he awakes upon a seafloor that it not his own, it feels wrong.
The gravel is replaced by something smoother than a young one’s sides, the scars of nature having been buffed down entirely.
In fact, nature’s entire existence seems to have been eradicated entirely — a vast, open space of seafoam assaulting his vision. Even the smallest barnacle is lost within this space. It is water without the ocean’s loving touch. It is blasphemy deeper than any old mer's tale within the seven seas.
And to make things worse, he is alone. The calls of his comrades do not reach him, nor does he believe his calls reach them.
But he calls nonetheless — circling, he wails and wails and wails.
The empty sea is where a bad mer goes to wither away, his mother’s voice croons. So do not be a bad mer.
The empty sea is driving Ajax mad, he believes, once he swears he sees another.
It’s a brief glimpse, really. In the day, humans pull out their large sticks and herd him through an invisible border to another empty sea, their language lost to him as dead fish are tossed for him to eat. It’s an insult really, each morsel doing little to curb his anxiety, the flesh seemingly frozen instead of recently killed, but starving is a coward’s move. He needs to uncover a way back to his ocean, whether the humans like it or not.
A moon passes — maybe two moons, maybe a hundred — before the fatigue of loneliness begins to sink in, and after yet another afternoon of trying to decipher the humans’ transactions for food, they seem to change the routine entirely.
Click click.
Move, the noise means. He does so without thinking.
Click click.
Enter, the noise means. He does so without question.
This time, however, they lead him west, towards the setting sun he saw when jumping through their hoop, and into another section of empty sea that is not so empty anymore. It’s odd to see some semblance of plant life and sandy floors, of which the latter runs a hand through, and as the invisible border shuts behind him, Ajax takes in his surroundings with palpable interest.
This is…Better, but not by much. The water feels stale; its warmth feels uncomfortable.
But there are fish — just enough for a quick meal, or perhaps a way to stretch his limbs past human tricks — and that is what spurs him on for the moons ahead.
Eat, sleep, wake, play, wail.
Eat, sleep, wake, play, wail.
Eat, sleep, wake, play, wail.
Eat, sleep, wake, play, wail—
That is, of course, until he spots a mer on the other side of yet another invisible border.
It’s too brief to gauge just what he is dealing with. The ocean’s depths are just as vast as the mers, leaving no two pods alike — and in some instances, no two species alike too — so he doesn’t believe he is dealing with an orca mer in the slightest. In fact, Ajax remains quite sure that the stranger is not like him, given just how many fish seem to swarm the other’s territory (and fish that, if Ajax could get his claws on them, would have fed him nicely).
So he tries his best to shuffle through the songs he has collected from his travels — songs of dolphin mers bundled together, of puffer mers and their spikes, or angler mers wheezing softly in the dark depths — but he receives nothing in return. It’s outrageous! Unacceptable! Even the smallest mer knows of the Seven Ocean Oath; he sang that before he could speak!
But the strange mer evades him, seemingly content to stay far away from the border once Ajax returns to his bastardised home, and as the moon goes from empty to full to empty again…It’s no wonder the orca mer hatches a plan.
If the pleasant noise of song will not draw his neighbour to him, then the unpleasant noise of war will provoke them.
And so begins his nights of terror.
Neither of them will sleep well for a long while.
Drawing his body up, Ajax slams his fluke into the border — over and over and over — until, eventually, the elusive jewel reveals itself from the tall weeds of its prison.
And what a jewel it is.
Jellyfish.
He…has not met a mer like this before, and similarly, he believes the stranger is just as unfamiliar.
How fun.
Unlike his orca body, Ajax notices how streamlined the mer seems to be. His fins look like feathers, each delicate tentacle speaking of a slow, gliding beauty more than anything else. Nevertheless, he is not foolish enough to be drawn in by such delicate features; Ajax is well aware of what those appendages are capable of, having accepted (and endured) many dares to sink his teeth into jellyfish for the thrill of the shock, and yet it's not the overall appearance that has him grinning like a lunatic.
No, it’s the fucking adorable scowl the mer puts on under that giant hood to show his displeasure, let alone the instant call to attack before even revealing itself. Gods below, his mother would have twisted his flippers if he acted like a hooligan, and here this one is… being all so hostile!
It’s funny!
“So…You’re a mer too.”
“What gave that away, guppy brain?!”
Way. Too. Funny!
Ajax, stifling a laugh, raises his hands in surrender. “Woah woah woah, I get it! I’m in your space and you don’t like that, huh?”
He gains a hiss for his honesty, but with no call to shut up, Ajax continues speaking as he swims in place. “Listen, I don’t want to be here more than you do, so if you could point me to the borders that get me back to the sea, I’d appreciate it.”
He tacks on a smile for good measure, his eyes at least trying to gain some light to them.
But the jellyfish mer? Well, he just stares.
And stares.
And—
“...What the fuck does that mean?”
Ajax pauses. In all honesty, he has not thought that broadly into the conversation. “Well, I don’t want to be here, so I’d be happy to leave your territory and go back to the ocean…”
The jellyfish mer’s frown only deepens, as if the very thing is inconceivable. It takes a few seconds before Ajax receives a response, and what leaves the strange mer’s mouth only makes him all the more confused.
“You’re from the ocean, huh?” Tentacles float in the water as if they have a mind of their own, and as one wraps itself around the strange mer’s body, Ajax cannot help but try and follow the path just as much as the words.
Because, by the seven seas, of course, he’s from the ocean! They all are!
He says as much, scaled arms folding across his chest. “I don’t know what you’re on about, but yes, I’m from the ocean. My waters are colder than these, and the humans insult me with dead prey and stupid tasks for them. Why wouldn’t I want to go back?”
“I don’t know. Have you figured out what humans want with you yet?”
Ah.
“What do you mean?”
The jellyfish mer smirks. “I mean, I’ve figured my humans out. I have this territory and all the fish within it at my disposal, and all I have to do?” With a flourish, he spins, sending tentacles fanning out — a rather appealing motion. “I do a little dance for the land-dwellers a little. It’s easy, and I’m king where they are my subjects. Perhaps you’ll have your own little place…Given that they’re trading with you.”
Trading. Ajax doesn’t quite see it that way, but the mer seems content with such for the time being, so a part of him knows that it’s useless to argue. Nevertheless, he cannot stop himself from rolling his eyes, his body arching to swim in a tight circle, the restriction somehow freer than the prison he is in.
And perhaps the other mer is right — that, eventually, he’ll win his freedom and return to the largest body of water he’s ever known…But humans are greedy.
Humans are the enemy, no matter how kind. He cannot help but taste something foul at the back of his throat, just itching for him to wash it away with the purity of the seven seas.
“Just trust me, mer.” The stranger says, waving a hand in farewell. In a flurry, the hooded figure already seems to be retreating. “They don’t get rid of the useful ones, after all…And you seem useful.”
“Wait!”
Ajax isn’t sure if he spoke too loudly, but it has the desired effect; the jellyfish mer pauses, tentacles twitching. “I never got your name. If we are to be border mates, it's only fair, right?”
Oceanic fairness in a human-made prison: what is the world coming to?
It’s absurd, and the light implications of it seem to draw a laugh out of the stranger too, bemused eyes looking back to fix Ajax in place. “Alright, I guess that makes sense…?”
“Ajax.”
“Ajax.” The translucent hood seems to tip with the mer’s head, and the name is repeated multiple times — like smacking lips for a good meal. “They’ll give you another name. Be sure to learn it; mine is Scaramouche.”
Scaramouche. The syllables sound off, but human noises can be replicated with hard work. Ajax rolls each syllable in his brain thrice over, committing it to memory. “And your oceanic name?”
They all have one. They are all woven into the endless tide.
“Kunikuzushi.”
“Kunikuzushi.” Another mouthful, and yet as Ajax says it out loud, the mer known as Kunikuzushi laughs, as if flattered. “Will I be seeing more of you, Kunikuzushi?”
“Perhaps,” The mer mutters, though his face remains obscured. “But focus on finding your place here. A big guy like you seems to fill in the human urge to bare teeth…So bare them.”
Bare them.
And he does — openly, and then in front of multiple clamouring eyes, the sky briefly revealing them to him as he soars, a hoop elegantly flown through.
Tartaglia, the human noise screams, granting him the cue to play.
Click click. Click click.
And every night, he returns to the border, sometimes drawing in Kunikuzushi for a chat, but oftentimes not. It’s an interesting schedule for now — a new, insightful experience into human hubris, even if meeting the only other mer in the vicinity is far more rewarding.
Moon cycle after moon cycle, the transaction never hints at freedom. It barely shifts a muscle. He plays and he plays.
But then — oh, but then — something odd happens.
Something rather odd, really.
Human tricks have Ajax’s sinking to his home’s floor with a faint prick in his side, and when he wakes up — groggy and confused, tentacles shroud his face.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Kunikuzushi’s groan, unfiltered by the barrier, is all he needs to know where he is. “Get the hell out of my realm, guppy brain!”
With the seven seas being unable to witness, Ajax does not apologise for the absolute chaos he brings as he bowls mer, tank and water into a murky, elated mess.
TEYVAT PARK INC.
Project: HARBINGER
Case: #11 - 24 - TARTAGLIA
Date: XX/XX/XXXX
Present status:
Subject 11 has exhibited adequate recovery after the 24-week treatment and training plan, with Dr. ██████ ███████ and merfolk trainer Mr. ████████ ████ deeming the subject appropriate for recreational showcases. Training outcomes have exhibited a rapid learning curve and the ability to follow orders. Desensitising preliminary shows deem Subject 11 as suitable for the current park schedule. Subject 11’s fluke injury has recovered well, with no infection recorded. Appetite changes remain within acceptable thresholds for training.
Mental state post-performing remains subject to observation.
Treatment Protocol:
Social observation has placed Subject 6 as a suitable tankmate, with previous case numbers (see: Case #6 - 44, Case #6 - 233, Case #6 - 461) providing suitable emergency protocol.
Social trials are to commence on week 25.
It’s one thing having a big mer scaring all his subjects from behind a border, but Kunikuzushi would rather have that than the chaos he is subjected to on a bi-daily occurrence. His humans must hate him for what they have done; his new tankmate is larger than life itself, drawing hoards of crowds as large hands drag him across his realm, and no matter how much shock he imbues into his tentacles, Ajax just seems to laugh and twitch and laugh.
It’s obscene! Perhaps he should find a way for the big brute to get back to the ocean!
And yet, when he sees the orca mer settle down near some human younglings, a palm pressed to the barrier so the humans’ smaller ones can mirror it… He almost feels his cold little heart warm up a little.
Almost.
He’s not a guppy-brained fool, of course.
Nevertheless, the tank situation is less of a nuisance the more the mer exists within his space, and while others had tried (and failed) to co-exist with him, Kunikuzushi has to reluctantly agree that the arrangement is adequate for the time being.
All he has to do now is get used to Ajax’s penchant for randomly play-hunting him at odd hours, or perhaps the way he still tries to squeeze into Kunikuzushi’s hollow to sleep. There’s also the showboating — the calls to tussle, which would only deter the human observers and rid them of both of their dinners. There’s the noise, the teasing, and gods, all the jokes that follow…All of these things are new to the jellyfish mer, unused to having company more intelligent than an eel.
And then there are the stories: of the ocean, of a place he never belonged in…
It makes Kunikuzushi wish to eat himself from tail to tongue. Those stories tick him off the most.
“You know—”
Tentacles flinch, startling the prey he wishes to catch.
“—the fish in the ocean put up more of a fight.”
“I’m going to make you put up more of a fight if you don’t shut up!”
“Don’t make promises you cannot keep, comrade!”
Kunikuzushi doesn’t need to whirl around to know his fellow mer is smirking, and as he huffs, tentacles drawing in to wait for another burst of opportunity, he vaguely listens in to whatever Ajax is waffling about once more.
The orca mer’s daily performance seems to be postponed, leaving them both to dazzle the humans looking in from behind the barrier. As a result, Ajax gets to witness something he rarely sees when it comes to his tankmate, and such a thing only baffles him greatly when the oddities click into place.
During his first days among the fish, he’d…Indulged a little, clearing out enough to feel stuffed for days, and when he asked Kunikuzushi why he seemed upset about that, he got no response.
And yet fish are meant to be eaten. It makes no sense.
Well, it previously made no sense.
“You…only eat the fish they give you, don’t you, Kuni?”
“It keeps my realm colourful. I take care of my space.”
“The space…should take care of you, though.”
“That’s not how it works here, Ajax.”
Heaving himself off the false ocean floor, Ajax watches as Kunikuzushi snags one of the duller-looking fish of the bunch, the prey barely struggling as it is encased within a jewel-like tomb.
It’s a beautiful sight — one that he is sure the humans marvel at — but the lethargy in the action of surviving only makes Ajax’s heart twist in disgust. This is not what the ocean wants, nor is it what a mer needs.
He says as much, eyeing the bloody trails left from Kunikuzushi’s modest feeding. “But that’s the thing. The ocean…It’s hard to explain, but it’s big enough for everyone, and everyone knows that they can live and die on their own terms.”
An indigo eye follows Ajax as he swims. He lets it.
It’s rare enough that he can speak about his home without some scathing dismissal; a part of him wonders why.
“My pod — we’re pretty big. I have a lot of siblings, and some of them are barely grown…But they know that there is a struggle for survival, and every catch is an agreement between opponents. One leaves without victory, but their energy — their life — is carried on by those who consume them. It’s just right.”
“Mhm.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but it’s right.” Ajax suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. Gods, that mer is so difficult! “You want to keep your territory human-ready? Sure, go ahead, but you and I both know the ocean is better — and brighter!”
“Mhm.” A little stronger, the dismissal is palpable.
“You’d have a ‘realm’ a thousand times bigger than this!”
“Mhm.” Kunikuzushi’s tentacles twitch, anxious. His feasting seems more frenzied. Blood in the water hides the shift in his gaze.
“The ocean would treat us both better than whatever these humans can cook up, trust me—”
“But the ocean isn’t here, is it?”
Scathing, no, angry, Kunikuzushi opens his mouth immediately upon his final swallow, teeth still pink and eyes sharp. He flicks his wrists to remove excess viscera from under his nails, but the action is unconscious — his focus remains on his ocean-loving tankmate.
If he loves the ocean so much, he might as well go back to it!
“Look, I don’t get it. I don’t fucking understand why you’ll turn yourself into knots for the ocean, but this is my home and I’ve long since given up on getting anything else!” Facial fins flatten towards Kunikuzushi’s head as he hisses, hands balling into fists. “And sure, maybe you think you have a chance, and maybe the humans will get tired of your sunset hair and ocean eyes and dump you right back, but it’s never happened before. Nobody is coming to save you — everyone else has moved on, they’re so far away they won’t even give you a second fucking thought—”
“Kuni—”
The tide of anger draws the words out in a rush. Kunikuzushi can barely hear himself, the pounding in his ears louder than any call for sanity. He’s…He’s fine. He’s never cared about the ocean, and never will ever again. Some pretty little mer with delusions of grandeur won’t put a dent in the life he has made. Not now, not ever!
“—So grow up and start acting like it!”
And yet, as the silence befalls them both, his final scream is lost to the water’s constant existence…Kunikuzushi doesn’t feel good. He doesn’t, not when Ajax’s expression seems to drop before his very eyes, a light he swears lay in those eyes flickering right out.
He should apologise. He knows this.
By the seven seas, he wants to.
But Ajax turns in place, fluke kicking up bubbles as he swims away — wordless.
Humans ogle and chatter, their lives glad to see a brief spat, a mer’s life put on display for their amusement, and for the first time in a long, long time…Kunikuzushi stares back, motionless.
He feels as dried out as the day they found him.
“Ajax.”
The humans are gone for the night. The tank is quiet — Ajax can hear the way Kunikuzushi tosses and turns in his hollow, the odd spark of a tentacle sending faint ripples through the water.
They haven’t spoken for days. It feels wrong, now that the other’s voice reaches him.
It’s been so lonely without it, with only the company of voices in dreams.
“Yeah?” So he offers his voice in return, lifting his head to just catch the way a tentacle rapidly returns to the dark depths of the hole. It seems that Kunikuzushi cannot sleep as well. “Are you…okay?”
“Yeah.”
It doesn’t sound like it — the jellyfish mer’s tone seems forced.
“Ajax?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“If I found a way to get you back into the ocean…I’d tell you, alright?”
“What?”
Ah.
Ajax cannot help but unfurl himself, body working to get closer — to confirm that, for some reason, those words had willingly left the other mer’s mouth. “I mean…You’re not coming with me if I get out?”
“Coming…with you…?”
A sound grumbles in the back of Ajax’s throat at such a soft reply. The mer sounds so uncertain; it makes each motion towards him all the slower.
“What sort of question is that?” Gently, Ajax leans on the rocky outcrop, peering into the depths to catch the faint outline of his tankmate, and then the glow of his eyes within. “Why would I go and leave you?”
“Because I don’t want to leave.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.”
If they were not so attuned to each other’s movements in such a small space, perhaps he may be graced with the opportunity to watch the mer sleep, but bright eyes watch his own as the silence stretches. By the time Kunikuzushi looks away, the deferment says enough about his current psyche.
Perhaps, someday, Ajax will convince him to think bigger again — to look past a gilded cage and into the ocean blue one more.
It’s wishful thinking, really, much like his supposed escape plans, but when has that stopped him?
“Hey.”
Kunikuzushi returns his gaze, a little sceptical, though not as dismissive.
Ajax takes that as a way in. “Do you…Want to share warmth? I think the water is, erm, much colder than usual.”
The jellyfish mer blinks slowly, tentacles curling in on themselves as if spooked.
What feels like a moon cycle passes within a second. Ajax takes that time to manage to sudden sinking feeling in his chest, looming rejection just itching to snap at his throat—
“It’s too small in here.” Kunikuzushi murmurs. A single tentacle reaches out, curling loosely around Ajax’s wrist.
It doesn’t emit a single shock. “Can we rest near your spot, then?”
It takes an embarrassing amount of seconds for Ajax to find his words, but the nod of his head grants him the mercy of responding.
Slowly but surely, Kunikuzushi joins him in the quiet of the tank, and they sink back down into the false ocean floor. It feels less fake with someone else around — tentacles winding around a scarred lower half, arms around Ajax’s middle, but before sleep can so much as claim them, the jellyfish mer just has to murmur his concerns. He has to.
It’s now or never, even if pessimism still roots him in place.
“I mean it,” He says, his hood becoming a pillow for his tankmate’s head. “If I found a way to get you back, I’d take it.”
“And I’d take you with me.”
“Tch.”
Kunikuzushi hides a sleepy smile, yet clings tighter. “I suppose so, guppy brain…”
I suppose so.
TEYVAT PARK INC.
Project: HARBINGER
Case: #11 - 55 - TARTAGLIA
Date: XX/XX/XXXX
Present status:
Subject 11 has successfully integrated into a tank with Subject 6, as per Dr. ██████ ███████ and merfolk trainer Mr. ████████ ████ hypotheses. Due to the usual antagonistic nature of Subject 6, this outcome has been deemed a monumental breakthrough in the study of interspecies dynamics for mer, with recent night watches recording unorthodox close-contact slumber.
Nevertheless, training outcomes have stagnated significantly with the introduction of stricter schedules. Subject 11 is exhibiting rebellious behaviours to common training stimuli, both on a clicker system and with various positive renforcements. Mental state post-performing remains subject to observation, with Subject 6’s presence being a significant sedative.
Treatment Protocol:
To improve upon present performances, hunting procedures designed for the “King of the Deep” attraction are to begin implementation on week 56.
The humans are up to something.
It seems so obvious now that another moon cycle has passed, but as leaping through hoops and identifying items gets put on the back burner of his training, what remains is a pit where false entertainment was found.
They’ve never quite transacted equally with the mer, have they? Each and every thrown fish was considered a debt, and one he has yet to begin paying off.
Because humans are cruel. Humans care little for the fluid lifestyle of the sea.
It begins slowly — a missed meal here, a missed meal there.
Until the invisible border to his home, their home, doesn’t lift.
It’s been like that for days on end now. He is not particularly fond of it.
“Are you sure there isn’t a hole anywhere?!”
Kuni’s gaze tracks the mer as he checks the entire border again, claws sliding against the glass with mounting frustration. There is no telling what is happening above them, given the humans’ aversion to entering the tank as is, but the jellyfish mer wishes to believe it is a fluke. They have yet to disappoint him as greatly as this.
Why give him something he enjoys then take it away?
Ajax slows to a stop with another sigh, fist slamming into the barrier before he lets gravity tug him to the floor, and Kuni, offering a mirrored sound, slides down to join him.
“This…They’re mad about something. I'm no human whisperer, but it feels like it.”
“They’re not feeding me as much. The noises are louder; they’re asking me to do things I either misunderstand or do not agree with. Perhaps they’re getting tired of me, eh, Kuni?”
“Perhaps they’re getting ready to let you go?” Kuni huffs, though Ajax can feel the weight in those words. “You’ve done your rounds…played your part. There’s nothing else to give.”
“But I’m not leaving without you, remember?”
Silence.
The jellyfish mer refuses to respond.
It feels like a half-baked wish and they both know it. Ajax casts a glance over, brushing unruly locks of hair away from his face. “It’s…fine, though. I can survive this, even if we can’t sleep together as we usually do. I hope you don’t freeze to death without me.”
“You’re too warm, blubber butt, but I guess I miss you too.” The tacked-on jest seems to land correctly, for Kunikuzushi snorts, fingers tapping upon the glass. “My subjects are the same; nothing really gets them spooked more than a big, scary predator in my realm. It keeps them in line.”
“Hah, is that what we’re calling it?!”
“I just call it like I see it.”
“Like a no-eyed crab, it seems.”
“Tch!”
Bubbles form on both sides of the glass as they snicker, the sound soon fading into the common noises of the tank. Outside their view, human machinations manage their existences, from tank temperatures to oxygen counts, but to them, only the steady thrum of an unseen human god sings at them.
Not to them, certainly not for them, and Ajax sighs.
"Hmm..." His instinct, while dull, is still sharp enough not to fail him; he can feel it settle right into the scar over a healed tail.
It’s telling him to run — to get as far away from these monsters before they take and hoard — so he shakes his head to rid himself of that itchy feeling. He tries his best to hide the apprehension from the creature beside him.
“Kuni.”
The jellyfish mer pushes up his hood, his eyebrow raising in question.
“You’ve been here longer than me.” Ajax starts, his gaze falling back down to his hands. Ever since he entered this place, the not-so-empty sea has granted him no new scars. In hindsight, nothing has presented a true challenge, let alone an experience worthy to be carried on his skin.
And sure, other mer may have celebrated it, hailing such a lack as proof of their survival, but his species are built to move in groups — to hunt, to conquer.
He isn’t doing that. Not anymore, at least.
It makes him itch — brutally so, and just enough that he needs to suck in a breath before continuing. The jellyfish mer seems like the sort not to care about the constant stimulation, after all.
And if Ajax is honest with himself — truly, utterly honest — the primary source of his sanity came from being in direct contact with the mer the humans now kept from him.
“You’ve been here far, far longer than me…But how is that?” He tries, “How do you keep sane, especially being alone for so long?”
“It’s not like I know anything else.” It takes a while, but Kuni finds the words to reply, face hiding completely under his broad hood. “You come from the ocean: a vast, fantastical place where sticking together makes sense. My first memories are getting left behind by the family, a giant storm, and then the painful agony of drying under an unforgiving sun.”
Ajax pauses. "So you're..."
"More ingrained in human oceans than the seven seas? Seems so."
Silence falls.
“I’m…sorry.”
“You didn’t know, plus it isn’t your fault, so why apologise?” Ajax glances over quick enough to catch the way the mer’s shoulders stiffen, fists curling in his lap. “Im some roundabout way, I owe the humans my life, and they have yet to disappoint me to the point where I forcibly remove said life. It’s…not for everyone. I know this. I’ve maimed other mers because I get to choose how I die, not them—”
“Kuni.”
“—but if they’re messing with you, they mess with me, okay?” Mustering up his pride once more, Kunikuzushi fixes Ajax with a glare, his lips pressing into a hard line. “Do what they want, and if they don’t pay you in full…Do what you want. These barriers can’t hold us, right?”
Speech over, the jellyfish mer seems to pause, unsure of where (or how) his passion came to be. It makes Ajax smile at the look of confusion starting to replace the fierceness in his eyes, and if he were a less experienced part of Kunikuzushi’s realm, perhaps he may have called him out on that.
Unfortunately for them both, Ajax is experienced and not a coward, so he swings his tail and grins, nodding enthusiastically like an order has been given. “Dare I say it, but that was some real ocean spirit there. If I go to the other end of this territory, do you think the barrier will be broken by your words alone?”
Ajax knows his smile is just the right amount of goofy, for Kuni’s tentacles slap upon the barrier, just itching to smack upon a freckled cheek.
“Guppy brain.” The mer chitters, eyes rolling to the artificial skies. “You’re annoying, you know that, right?”
“Right!”
Annoying, yet still lovable.
Kunikuzushi doesn’t say it out loud — not yet, at least.
Whoever falls asleep first, they do not keep track. Despite the distance, a thin wall keeping their scales apart…They sleep side-by-side, nestled at the edges of their enclosures, the world continuing to spin at their fins.
Another moon cycle. The humans don’t relent. They get greedy, oh so greedy.
Ajax should have known the tides were turning when live prey was fed into the performance ring — large, fast fish plucked right from the ocean’s depths — and as bloody claws sank into flesh with glee, fish blood lined with a tang only the ocean’s salty stretch could produce…He got too hopeful.
He thought they were trustworthy.
Click! Click click click!
Above him, the garbled voices of his human food dispensers address a crowd of prying eyes; Kunikuzushi has always confirmed that such a thing is foreign to him, but he theorizes that some humans prefer to see tricks — or perhaps believe that other humans have the power to fully tame a beast of the sea.
It’s preposterous, of course, but the transaction seems to work well for both sea and land.
Ajax plays along as he usually does, dipping low into the waters and propelling himself upwards, outwards, into the air.
He gains raucous applause for his entrance, the water swallowing it up upon re-entry.
Click click! Click!
And so the performance begins.
Most of the time, it seems, they keep him moving — each tight turn and propelled launch shows off the physique of an apex predator, the crowds gawking at old scars, with some screaming in horror at the flash of teeth. For the brave ones, Ajax is tasked to hurl a spray of water at such individuals (which, in all honesty, is his favourite part of the routine from their screams alone), but where the mind anticipates the final clicks to release him from the act…Nothing comes.
In fact, the humans keep talking.
They always do.
They always want more.
“Ladies…treat…you!”
Ajax peeks his head out of the water, hearing deafening applause.
The human voice keeps talking. “Tartaglia…food…beast…teeth!”
He doesn’t understand. The humans just keep roaring.
It’s loud.
BANG!!!
He isn’t in the tank anymore.
No, he’s in the ocean, the waves and hostile humans roaring around them. He tastes blood on his lips — blood that isn’t his own.
They’re shooting their death spears at him. They’ve got one inside his fluke. They’re- no, they’re tugging! Gods, they’re tugging so hard!
BANG BANG BANG!!!
It’s loud — so loud that he ducks back under the water, eyes blindly searching for anything, anyone, that screams of safety. It’s in this stretch of empty sea that he realizes that he is alone, its bright depth oh so different from the comfort of the oceanic abyss, and as he swims, races, claws —
The floor rises to meet him. Blood bursts from Ajax's temple, immediately staining his vision.
They’ve found him.
They’ve found me!
The orca mer panics.
Those humans!
Those evil, monstrous humans!
There is nothing that his handlers can do. Another point-blank slam into concrete sends the mer at one of the many viewing glasses.
He collides with it at full force.
More blood follows.
He doesn’t seem to care.
They’re going to kill me!
Children scream. A mother shields her young with her coat.
People begin to flee.
The mer wants out. He needs it. The ocean is big! Why isn't the ocean big?!
Thud!
They’re going to take them! Run! Save yourself!
Thud!
Where’s Teucer?! Has anyone seen Teucer?!
Thud!
Oh, gods!
Thud!
They’re…
Thud.
.
.
.
It takes ten minutes, two pricks in his sides, and a long, motionless descent to a murky floor for it to end…But it ends, and it ends as it began.
A beast in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The world turns its eyes to tragedy.
And said tragedy’s tankmate, disturbed by the chaos now rippling just outside his tank?
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Soon enough, to an ocean that has long since abandoned him, he prays.
TEYVAT PARK INC.
Project: HARBINGER
Case: #11 - 69 - TARTAGLIA
Date: XX/XX/XXXX
Anomaly summary:
In reference to Case #11 - 65, hunting procedures for the “King of the Deep” attraction were to begin public performances on XX/XX/XXXX, as confirmed by TARTAGLIA trainers and staff. Expected behaviour from Subject 11 was recorded throughout the entire procedure, with the final task referencing the controlled hunting environment practised with both the subject and trainer.
Investigation shows that increased noise levels and uncertainty with the schedule addition compounded confusion and anxiety within the Subject.
A controlled confetti cannon malfunction (see Appendix A) subsequently sparked a survival behaviour within the merfolk, sending him towards the depths for safety.
Upon initial blunt trauma with the tank floor, Subject 11 sought out moving objects, with particular interest being the west viewing window — a popular seating area for young parkgoers, of which the performance recorded thirteen (13) minors in attendance.
CCTV footage has yet to contact the guardians of a particular minors dressed in TEYVAT PARK INC. Merfolk-tail skirts. Further reports will highlight any important findings.
Present status:
Subject 11 has successfully been stabilized as per Dr. ██████ ███████ and merfolk trainer Mr. ████████ ████ assistance. Primary injury stems from blunt force trauma to the face and knuckles, particularly from the initial collision with the floor.
Subject 11 remains aggressive to all forms of human intervention, thus requiring ███ mg of sedative to be administered ██████████.
Due to the usual antagonistic nature of Subject 11, any procedure to reintroduce the merfolk to Subject 6’s enclosure has been halted, despite the current rebellious state of Subject 6 (See: Case #6 - 1523). This outcome is to preserve the safety of both Subject 11 and Subject 6, as well as abide by current investigations into TEYVAT PARK INC. and all adjacent businesses.
Treatment Protocol:
To stabilize and prepare for impeding merfolk relocation, Subject 11 is to:
- Remain under constant monitoring for emergency procedures,
- Remain in an isolation tank for the safety of Subject and Subject’s former tankmates,
- Be fed non-combative live prey and,
- Encounter little to no human interaction outside of Mr. ████████ ████ and senior members of the TARTAGLIA training team.
It’s dark — darker than any trench he has explored, yet shallower than ever.
Ajax is alone — so much so that each movement through the water seems to echo, making his facial fins twitch in discomfort at the unnatural feeling.
He is in pain — the humans try to hide it, sticking in needles and numbing him to a statuesque form, but Ajax still feels it: the anguish, the horror.
The humans have lied to him.
They did this, trying in vain to tame an untameable beast, and now he pays the price.
So he swims, circling day after day in their idea of helpful purgatory…and wails his sorrows in the hope that prickly little mer can hear him.
He isn’t sure when the humans got fed up, or if they even did, but upon another forced round of sleep, his eyes open to waters that feel warmer — familiar, even, their movement sending a shiver up his spine.
And he is right. They are familiar; he spots the seaweed surrounding his bulk — the gods damned Angelfish that Kuni seems so fond of swimming before his eyes tauntingly.
And then he spots Kuni — nervously circling, eyes hidden behind the ridiculous hood of his species.
It hurts to spring up as he does, bowling the smaller mer over with all his might, but who can blame him?
He’s safe.
Gods, he’s safe!
Kunikuzushi does not think he has stressed for anyone like this, not even the first (and only) lionfish he had in his realm all those moons ago. Upon dropping the absent mer back into his space, it took a lot of willpower not to send his tentacles over — to brush hands over sunset locks and thumbs across freckled cheeks…
He hates it. He hates that he cares. He hates that his heart wishes to beat out of his chest, if only to seek the comfort of Ajax's warmer embrace.
He cares so much, in fact, that when Ajax stirs and bowls him over, he panics.
What if the seaweed brain hurts himself more?!
“Stop that!”
That staticky feeling that befalls Ajax is almost instant, with one pesky tentacle gaining the rare upper hand of igniting upon his healing hand. With a jolt, the orca mer springs back, shaking the poor appendage before stuffing the wound into his mouth, and as he glares at the source of the offence, Kunikuzushi almost seems to regret that approach.
It all but confirms it when their eyes meet — the jellyfish mer, for all his stoic-faced grandeur, really shows his expressions when overwhelmed with emotion.
But he’s alive. His reckless, ocean-dwelling, ocean-loving nuisance of a mer is back, and if he was not acutely aware of why his stomach may be turning itself into further knots, he may have attributed it to his…not-so-subtle hunger strike.
The humans have surely had fun with sedating him, that’s for sure.
"You idiot!" Kuni folds his arms, putting on a brave face. “I can’t believe you.I thought I lost you…You fucking…Fucking…”
Ah.
Such bravery goes as far as knocking Ajax's shoulder with a single flimsy limb, only for Kuni to draw right back into himself and crumble under the pressure.
“I thought I told you…to play your part.”
And Ajax, taking a second to digest it all, can only throw his hands up in defeat. “Is that it? I go missing for who knows how long, and that’s it?” The orca’s tail pumps once, the burst alone causing Kuni to push forward, but the jellyfish mer only scowls.
Thoughts pile at the tip of Kuni's tongue, unused. “What else am I supposed to say?!”
I missed you.
“Anything but that, at least!” Ajax huffs, nails digging into the flesh of his biceps. “I’ve been gone for so long — I know the humans wouldn’t tell you anything, so weren’t you concerned at least?!”
Something vile sits in the orca mer’s throat. It tastes like betrayal. He doesn’t quite like this taste.
Had he thought too highly of his tankmate? Had his use expired the moment that loud noise corrupted his mind?
It seems so, for Kuni’s body does not even bother to hide its angry shakes — each shudder seems to crack the facade within his eyes as well, allowing a plethora of information to seep into the water between them.
Anger. Grief. Desperation.
“I was concerned that they’d somehow deemed you unstable and they’d taken you away from me.”
Ajax sees red — at least for a moment.
It dictates his response, fluke swirling the water around him, his frustration contained within how malleable his surroundings are.
“And back in the ocean where I belong? Good. Fuck their deals. Fuck their clickers and fuck their rewards!”
"But they helped you!"
"And they're the reason I got hurt! It's not enough!"
It’s never been enough, no matter what territory they gift him, be it full of stolen life or as barren as the deepest depths. It’s not home.
They need to go home.
He says as much, grabbing the other mer as his little tantrum bowls him over, unafraid of the way tentacles instinctively wrap around his sides, Ajax’s own arms holding Kunikuzushi in place. This close, the jellyfish mer is unable to hide, let alone blend within the depths, each accented colour oh so observable on a conflicted face.
They should be done. All of this? It doesn’t matter anymore. Ajax finds himself parroting it.
And Kunikuzushi, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, stares back with as little portrayed fear as possible, knowing just how futile such an attempt is.
He’s…scared.
Scared of leaving — yet…so scared of staying without him. It both confuses and excites in equal measure, even more so than the bloated weight in his chest.
“We need to go.” Ajax tries again. He squeezes down on pale shoulders, shaking the mer gently — a soft call to wake. “Kunikuzushi, we need to go, and I’m not going without you.”
“You know that's impossible. I’ll… kill whoever tries to come in here after you leave.” The mer tries softly, dismally unsure. “I swear I’ll do it. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again.”
“Or you can just…leave?”
They’re too close like this, close enough that when Kuni wriggles upwards to level their gazes, Ajax feels the brim of his hood brush against his forehead.
It tickles upon the healing scar hidden within his hair, and he laughs at the sensation. Not to long ago, a more frantic version of himself had been willing to burrow right through the floor to get to the ones he loves.
As stubborn as the mer in front of him is, he is quite sure he will do the same in this moment.
“Kuni…come on.” He urges, leaning in closer — surprising himself when the jellyfish mer does the same. “Come on,” he tries, their lips so close, too close.
“I want to.” Kunikuzushi replies, a single tendril curling up Ajax’s back, midly flexing to entangle them both. “Just…don’t leave when you’re done with me. If I go with you, don’t go where I can’t follow.”
“That’s a tall order, oh sparky one.” Ajax breathes, his facial fins flexing, his gaze lidding into a picture of amusement. “The ocean is big enough for everyone…But if you want it all, then we have to see it all, right?”
“Hah.” Kuni chuckles, using his words to fill the time between separation and connection. From a human’s perspective, all they will see is faces shrouded under his hood, their lips and eyes and wandering hands shielded from the world.
And that’s fine. The mers seem content with that, entangled in their glided cage, the larger tail between them lazily keeping them afloat.
It’s warm in there — so much so that, back together, their slumber feels molten — but as the false sun flickers to life and the humans dare not to call for either of them…Some needed form of serenity beckons.
It’s just them, a quiet tank and the thrum of an unknown human god.
So…just them.
For the time being, it is home.
AKASHA Rehabilitaion Centre (in collaboration with TEYVAT PARK INC.)
Project: HARBINGER
Case: #11 - 87 - TARTAGLIA
Date: XX/XX/XXXX
(SEE CASE #6 - 1545 FOR CORRESPONDING REPORT)
Present status:
Subject 11 has successfully been released back into northern Mondstadt waters as per Dr. ██████ ███████ and merfolk trainer Mr. ████████ ████ parameters, as dictated by the AKASHA Rehabilitation Centre and in accordance with the International Creature Rights Committee. Tagging data suggests that Subject 11 has yet to assimilate into local merfolk groups within the area, with suspected sightings mentioning antagonistic behaviour towards fellow wild merfolk.
Speculation upon the eventual release of Subject 6 (See: Case #6 - 1545) remains uncertain due to extensive case study. Dr. ████ ██████ remains the lead rehabilitator, and believes reuniting them both will provide the most knowledgable answer.
Observation Protocol:
Until ideal release parameters for Subject 6 are completed, Dr. ████ ██████ suggests long-term and distant surveillance of Subject 11.
AKASHA Rehabilitation Centre (in collaboration with TEYVAT PARK INC.)
Project: HARBINGER
Case: #11 - 100 - TARTAGLIA
Date: XX/XX/XXXX
(SEE CASE #6 - 1558 FOR CORRESPONDING REPORT)
Present status:
See previous report. Subject 11 remains a mainstay within Mondstadtan waters. Attempts at steering Subject 11 to nearby recorded orca merfolk pods were deemed unsuccessful.
Observation Protocol:
Until ideal release parameters for Subject 6 are completed, Dr. ████ ██████ suggests long-term and distant surveillance of Subject 11.
AKASHA Rehabilitaion Centre (in collaboration with TEYVAT PARK INC.)
Project: HARBINGER
Case: #11 - 111 - TARTAGLIA
Date: XX/XX/XXXX
(SEE CASE #6 - 1569 FOR CORRESPONDING REPORT)
Present status:
See previous report. Subject 11 remains a mainstay within Mondstadtan waters. Attempts at steering Subject 11 to nearby recorded orca merfolk pods were deemed unsuccessful.
Observation Protocol:
Release of Subject 6 to occur at 06h00, XX/XX/XXXX, overseen by Dr. ████ ██████.
Observation of Subject 6 and Subject 11’s safety is to be done using the SS. Corps.
The human’s name is Nahida, or at least that is what Kunikuzushi understands after the many moon cycles they spent together.
Once Ajax is taken away from him, it doesn’t take long for his betraying caretakers to remove him too, placing him in a space that is not solely his own — where, upon initial exploring, he minds multiple mers apparently rescued from the hands of humans, some too unfit to be released into the ocean once more.
It scares him, knowing that the ocean awaits him; its vast, unforgivable stretch spat him out years ago, leaving him to rot in the sun…So why go back?
In fact, why go back alone?
Nahida, however, seems to have all the answers in her tiny human body. It’s quite odd, really, given how small Kunikuzushi felt in front of Ajax.
But she speaks — and she learns too. Despite the language barrier, some form of cobbled communication begins, one where he manages to teach the human his oceanic name, even if her throat struggles to form the sounds of a mer.
She tries…Oh, gods, does she try.
And her greatest invention, one that Kunikuzushi has to admire, given how quickly he understood it — is the great big carving sheet. It has everything — a way to show that he is exhausted, a way to say he is hungry, hell, even a way to express his discomfort or unease.
It takes a while to understand it, the odd human word being associated with consistent taps of his fingers, just as much as simple mer calls, but the system works. It works so well that, oddly enough, Kunikuzushi feels comfortable being taught by (and also teaching) a human.
For his trust in her, and perhaps her trust in him, he is not surprised that — as smart as the human seems — a new carving appears on his mat as he heaves himself above water, eyes widening in grief at the sight alone.
It’s him, or at least a silhouette of him. No matter how many moons bloom and die, Ajax’s features have seared themselves into the back of his mind, the heat wrapping so gently around his beating heart. Kunikuzushi cannot help but make a noise at that, soft and mournful, drawing a small pat from the human beside him, and while his words remain foreign for the most part, he does catch one.
“...Ocean…?”
The sea. She is talking about the sea, isn’t she?
The jellyfish mer turns, lifting up a drooping hood to grant her a stare — searching, if not desperate — and his curiosity is greeted with a giggle, her smile wide.
It’s so naive of him to dream like this. Kunikuzushi looks away.
And yet, throughout their subsequent meetings, Ajax seems to be brought up a lot from the strange carving sheet, with the human’s hands tapping upon food and the ocean, followed by the symbols that show happiness and a successful task.
Kunikuzushi questions it often, trying his best to understand intentions, but the human remains fixated on his apparent training.
If Ajax is there, he doesn’t see him.
The moon waxes and wanes and waxes and wanes…And that fact remains.
Which leaves him with an issue one early morning. It’s dawn, the sun beginning to peek over the horizon, and instead of Nahida greeting him for a lazy morning hunt, strange humans scoop his thrashing body up from the main body of water, the morning chill catching on parts he certainly keeps submerged.
So he panics — of course he fucking panics — much to the amused chatter of Nahida beside him, her soothing touch calming him down long after the men deposit him into a…rather small realm. A cage, really.
It smells like fish. Dead fish, actually.
He wishes the carving board was on hand, but by Nahida’s chittering laugh, Kunikuzushi knows his face does the talking.
“...Ocean…Ready?”
The jellyfish mer squints, catching some words, but missing most. His confusion almost helps to neutralize how he startles once the floor hums, let alone the sudden motion that follows.
Water sloshes underneath him. No, the ocean sloshes underneath him.
“It’s okay.”
He knows those words. Humans use them to soothe.
The mer shivers nonetheless.
“Shh…It’s okay, Kunikuzushi… Ocean…Ready.”
The sun is rising on a chilly autumn morning. Within a tiny transportation tank, one of the ocean’s lost souls returns home. As the mer known Kunikuzushi hits the water, tentacles sparking at the salty tang, his eyes darting up towards the boat, Nahida cannot help but smile. On her radar, the mer’s chosen mate should be near enough to track him, and if successful, a paired duo has all the makings to survive within the ocean — captive-bred or not.
Because, in her research, the mer are far more than glorified party tricks. It warms her heart to see each and every patient return home…
After all, in a world of magical creatures just beginning to stretch their necks out…Who else but the gods should guide their paths?
He’s ready, the ocean murmurs, her guiding hand beginning to separate mer from the boat. You have done well, Buer.
Kunikuzushi hesitates — one second, two seconds, three — but like all the others who have come before him, and all those who may follow, his head ducks into the oceans depths and disappears.
The shoreline brings all sorts of mers. Some come with the tides, drawing in and pulling back out before they can so much as leave a mark. Others are like the seasons: spending stretches of time around, then disappearing for gods know what. Some are like barnacles — they appear in these waters and cling, for not even the ocean itself can send them out.
And this orca mer? This particular orca mer?
Well, Kaeya has to admit his dedication is admirable; the poor thing has been searching this particular shoreline for moons, and if his dear brother has another moon in him not to burst a blood vessel, perhaps Kaeya’s missing eye will grow back too!
Yet, for the first time in days, the early morning crow of Ajax does not stir the mer from his little alcove; instead, some cursing among his reef-like home piques his interest.
They smell of human medicine. Quite a few of them end up here first. Another newcomer, perhaps?
He investigates, and what greets him is expected: a lone mer caught in some coral, its free stingers floating upwards to avoid further injury.
“How odd to see a jellyfish mer out all alone,” Kaeya offers, giving away his position (and thus avoiding an attack of the startled kind). “But such a rarity is welcome here. Do you need help, by chance?”
The jellyfish mer seems to be ready to hurl an insult his way, his eyes wide and his body language hostile, but in a second of reconsideration, Kaeya watches in real time as he sobers, a mutter of agreement reluctantly leaving the mer’s lips.
It’s funny, in all honesty. If it were Diluc, perhaps the encounter may have been worse, given his species.
Perhaps not, given Kaeya’s own.
Nevertheless, unwinding the poor mer from an unfortunate tangle presents ample time to converse, and the more Kaeya squeezes (or attempts to squeeze) out of the little thing, the more he…speculates.
The jellyfish mer goes by Kunikuzushi, lived with humans his whole life, and would gladly kill any mer that thinks point two makes him a target? Well, he knows one mer who seems to be looking for a ‘Kuni’ of sorts, and said mer also claims to have had a run-in with humans…
“Say, Kunikuzushi, was it?”
Finned arms wrap tightly around the smaller mer’s shoulders, the right side looking scarred from unfortunate shredding; Kaeya beams at the lack of a sting sent his way, even if he knows the other mer definitely wishes to do it. “I have a…brother of sorts. He’s part of a small network in these seas, as am I. Perhaps he can, I don’t know…push you in the right direction?”
“What’s in it for him?” An immediate response — no frills, no add-ons. A mer after his own heart, this one is. Most try and sweet talk their way around a great white shark mer, and yet this one remains so blunt with it all!
Is it a lack of experience? Naïvety?
Perhaps it's just a combination of them all.
“Nothing at all…I just like to help newcomers. It’s always a pleasure.”
And if he is correct, Diluc surely owes him a favour or two!
Kunikuzushi seems to consider his options carefully, his head dipping, his face obscured, but once the mer separates himself from Kaeya’s fold — and once he brushes himself down as if touched by filth — the words that ring out only bring Kaeya’s tiny smirk to something larger, albeit triumphant.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Oh, this will be good.
A part of him hopes those two are at it again; only the gods know how much Diluc secretly enjoys it.
These waters may not be as treacherous as those far north, the colder currents calling him home from sunrise to sunset, but that released sea lion mer’s words keep Ajax circling into oblivion. He cannot leave just yet.
After all, even he was released from human watch after being taken from their performance place, and if Kunikuzushi wishes to fulfil their little oath, it’s only a matter of time before he is released too.
…Right?
Doubts aside, the shores provide something relatively new to explore, with an odd spread of fish and an odder selection of mer. And sure, Ajax recalls his pod being rather knowledeageble in prey habits and their migration routes, but a little rot needs to brushed off from the metaphorical sponge in his brain. He learns far quicker by doing rather than hearing.
It helps a lot, given how…wary everyone is. It’s one thing to spook a poor clownfish mer into fainting, but its another to attract the ire — and subsequent distrust — of what seems to be one of the larger species in the area.
Not larger than him, of course, but the crimson tiger shark mer is persistent, and Ajax knows he can only egg the mer into a spar so many times before things get a little uglier due to instinct.
Mers don’t eat other mers. They don’t need to — they don’t have to.
And yet, as he passes some by, they shrink back among their whispers, speaking candidly about tall tales and short fuses than most.
It’s awful. A true test of patience.
Though, as he currently swims beside the tiger shark — Diluc, as most call him — at least he’s made somewhat of a friend, right?
“Do you not have anything else to do, Ajax?”
Kinda.
“Well, I don’t want to scare the younger ones by hunting again, so I now eat at night.” Ajax starts, smacking his fluke into Diluc’s side if only to watch the mer frown. “I’ve explored everywhere thrice over. There have been no water floaters where you said they are. It’s just another day…of pure, unfiltered boredom.”
Ajax’s sigh is dramatic. Diluc’s sigh is full of disappointment.
The mer is funny like that; as much as Diluc tries to brush off tag-alongs, Ajax is quite sure he appreciates the company in his own sharky way. It’s hard to come by anyway — he knows this all too well!
A tiger shark mer and an orca mer? Unheard of in these parts, surely!
This begs the question—
“So, since we’re out so far and nobody is around…” Ajax’s words drag a little, almost sounding like the beginning of an orca song. By the way Diluc’s eyes shut, it seems he already knows where the conversation is headed. “You, me, the vast ocean space…Want to spar?”
“You asked that at sunrise.”
“And I’m asking again now.” Ajax smirks, a single flap of his tail pushing him ahead of his companion. “I’m a growing mer!”
“As am I.” Diluc huffs, changing course. He is not surprised to feel Ajax follow suit. “But I have responsibilities to fulfil. This patrol will not complete itself, unfortunately—”
“And after the patrol?”
“I have more work.”
“Sealshit. I’ll go bother Kaeya then!”
“...”
The tiger shark mer bats Ajax with his tail, making the orca mer gasp in mock offence. “Hey!”
Diluc bats him again, this time a little harder. “Hey yourself. Keep up, or go bother someone else—”
Ajax, winding up a bat, begins the semi-petty spar with a swing enough to knock Diluc back, and before the two mers know what hit them, the grapple-fest that is their instinctual urges has them stirring up sand from the ocean floor.
And Childe smiles throughout it all.
Gotcha!
It’s really easy to bait a shark, it seems.
Nevertheless, their little tussle seems to be halted prematurely, for Kaeya’s call ripples through the ocean quite loudly all things considered. The volume alone is what makes Diluc cut the spar short — for most shark mers don’t shout, let alone call over long distances — and as Ajax shakes himself off (and frowns at the lack of scarring), the shark’s silhouette makes itself known.
“Kaeya!” He calls, eyes squinting through the seas. It’s definitely him; his shredded pectoral fin is unmistakable. “We’re fine! It’s just a little spar!”
“So you’re sparring with other fish besides me?! I’m hurt, guppy brain!”
Ajax pauses. It’s an instant blow — a shot just as debilitating as that human spear through his fluke.
Because it can’t be. It cannot be that easy.
Yet, glued to Kaeya’s tail fin by his tentacles, Kunikuzushi seems content with hitching a lazier ride, the deep blue contrasting wildly with his purples and blacks. That hood of his droops less — the ocean seems to have brought a certain spark back to those eyes.
It’s enough of a spark that, at least for a second, the jellyfish mer seems to smile when their eyes meet.
It’s him.
Gods, the humans let him go.
And there is no ocean, no barrier and certainly no human that stops the way Ajax parts the waters to meet him, arms outstretched to grab, his oceanmate’s arms doing the same. They meet in a flurry of bubbles, tumbling, holding. A sole, joyful wail pierces the ocean as far as the ear can hear. It’s a song for them both — a song that, if they have time, they can workshop together.
Once the roll ceases, they cannot help but stare, just taking each other in, the blessing of touch finally granted back to them.
“Hey, you,” Ajax utters softly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“It has.” Kunikuzushi laughs, tentacles gripping so tight that he isn’t quite sure that he’ll know how to unwind himself later. “...Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not. I never said that.” Hands at the jellyfish mer’s cheeks, Ajax grins. “We still have all this time ahead, don’t we? A whole ocean to explore.”
It’s surreal. Impossibly so.
“It’s…bigger than I remember.” Kuni admits, “But I guess that’s good for us both, right?”
“Right.” Ajax agrees, only to pause on his next words. “You, erm, missed me, right?”
Silence follows, but for reasons the orca mer soon understands. Kunikuzushi’s face morphs through emotions at breakneck speeds, but once it settles, the precedent is set.
Bright eyes blink away any semblance of grief the mer seems to have harboured in their separation. “No…You’re annoying. Why would I care if I lost my fucking mate?”
Ajax blanks out at that. Jaw slack, his tongue runs over sharp teeth, body leaning in closer, right under the jellyfish mer’s hood. “Hold on, repeat that?”
Mate.
Well…That uncomplicated things.
It also makes his heart flutter.
“I’m not gonna.” Kuni mutters. “You heard me. Even those sharks heard me.”
Kaeya and Diluc, a ways away, feign nonchalance to varying degrees of success, and Ajax chuckles at their attempt.
Not that it matters anyway; they can watch. Let them see!
Ajax leans in closer, desperate — a joint question and answer reflect in his mate’s gaze — and before he knows it, their connections gain another point at their lips, the ocean fading off into a pleasant, warm void.
And he sinks. They both do.
Deeper and deeper, the ocean holds them both. For they are free — together, unrestricted by another’s hold.
It’s right where they need to be.
There is something new in his home.
Within their home, there is always something new it seems. From the brightly coloured reefs to the familiar depths lined with neon, they travel everywhere, seeing everything the seas provide. And sure, they should care little for their existence — a jellyfish mer and an orca mer traversing waters for a home, or perhaps a temporary source of home — but they exist. They all do, really.
“Hey!”
Kunikuzushi looks up, spotting Ajax on a jutted rock nearby. “You ready?”
Ready. Such a classic question — it’s answer comes far easier with the company.
Dare he say it, but his mate has been a good influence.
“Yeah.” Chin on his arms, tentacles billowing in the gentle tide, Kunikuzushi smiles.
“Good.” The sun is beginning to set, the last of its warmth beginning to cool on dark scales. They’ll be making their way up north by daybreak. So much to do, so much to see.
And he’s excited — they both are.
“It’ll be good to see something new, right?”
Right.
“Even better…since it’s now with you.”