He was not as humans eloquently phrased it: Over her.
The fact that she barely aged any more than the Samurai did wasn't helping matters either.
WHY?!
He thought he could go for just one day without even thinking of her, but then those dratted scientists just had to ask him if the same ought to be done with the mermaid.
"If you're willing to scour the entire oceans to retrieve her alive!" He'd hissed through gritted teeth.
Oh to be certain, he'd entertained himself with others, however it only appeased his licentious urges for a time. None of them had her voice nor her latent curiosity.
Forgetting her is out of the question, her kingdom is just one of the remaining few that remains unconquered. He remembers well the very first time he'd seen Atlantica, and the merpeople eons ago…
Nearly a century gone by since his return to power. It was a summer afternoon, he'd been contemplating the sea quite a great distance away from the land of the rising sun. To be precise, 8,677 kilometers.
He then heard the music. Smooth and Jubilant. Humans perhaps?
Yet it originated several acres down the shoreline possibly miles from the closest colony. Intrigued, he concealed himself in the shape of a kingfisher and followed the sound to a cove that was half hidden by the rocks and vegetation.
They were…colorful.
What he beheld weren't humans, although from the waist to the upper area of the body they certainly resembled them. However instead of legs each one possessed the tail of a fish. He heard the seafaring humans mention these creatures in rumors or in jest. Some that were fierce like the ocean or fearful of humans. The words for them in his native tongue were ningyo. In others they were called merfolk. Mermaids…mermen…
There were so many of them, male and female, young and old. A few were using stringed objects or conch shells or merely sang.
Many lounged on the rocks, some were swimming and breached in arcs before diving into the depths once more.
A handful noticed him but didn't pay what they thought was a peculiar surface creature any mind.
He watched them intently for a few hours, clearly the cove was only an occasional meeting place where they frolicked. He would have to follow them and find out where they dwelt then spread his dominion over them.
Upon sunrise the next morning, he spotted three of them swimming along the shoal. And so he followed at a stealthy distance as a manta ray. He trailed them past a reef, underwater canyons and through a cavernous tunnel with a bright light at the end. And that was when he saw Atlantica – a thriving sea kingdom consisting entirely of the merfolk and other sentient ocean inhabitants.
He swam amongst the marine denizens without much trouble, silently observing them all with dark intentions. Their weapons and fiercest fighters would be no match for him, overwhelming these artless creatures would be child's play.
Oh how he gloated when he revealed his true shape, striking fear into their hearts. Many of them scattered like the frightened little animals attacked by a predator, even more so upon seeing that their natural and forged weapons didn't so much as leave a scratch upon him.
Except he hadn't counted on the Sea king possessing a weapon of untold powers that caused him agonizing pain. As though the injuries caused by the Samurai's blade hadn't been bad enough!
Since that day, he held quite a grudge against the royals of that distinct sea realm. Then came the day he'd been preparing a well elaborated trap for the Samurai within the swamp in disguise. Imagine his initial surprise when the youngest daughter of the current Sea king went to ask for legs. Quickly he thought of killing two birds with one stone: he could use the mermaid in a devious scheme, knowing Triton would give up the trident to save her and give the potential for Aku himself to conquer Atlantica.
It had been almost too easy, until he started seeing the mermaid turned human not only as a prisoner of war but as a…impossible. She'd only been in his lair for half a day. There must be a more consistent explanation for this unreasonable passion with the sea king's seventh daughter.
"It could have been a mere whim triggered by her lyrical voice, yet such a notion ought to have faded in the decades that followed." He tried rationalizing to a therapeutic clone of himself in psychologist clothing, "Or conceivably a distraction. Yet even that sounds preposterous. Perhaps it's an unconventional form of limerence since I was unable to consummate it, which leads back to my earlier attempts at making her my songbird with benefits."
And if he is afflicted with an erratic form of sentimental languishing, chances are he should be making them suffer as he does whenever he's struck by the sword.
The solution is quite simple: He desires the one female he was unable possess in fifty years.
Yes. If the opportunity presents itself, he wanted her here before him as his prisoner once more.