The tank was vast. Mitsutada could easily make it to a sprint without needing to worry about slamming into the other side of the glass. He could do flips and twirls and stretch out all the muscles that had been unused for the last week or so. He could swim freely without running into anything or anyone. There was no one to run into. He was alone in the tank.

The first day hadn't been lonely. Mitsutada was accustomed to long hours of silence by now and he had been excited to explore his new temporary home. The tank was fairly boring and plain, most likely because Ieyasu hadn't known what kind of fish to prepare for. It was clean though, and the water tasted like the ocean. Mitsutada had no complaints. If he peeked out of the top, he could see the rest of the room, which he might have appreciated more if there was anything in the room to see. It was obviously the back of the back of the back room, the sort of thing that was necessary when you were hiding a mermaid. Of course even then, it would have been nice to have other fish to talk with, especially since there were so many tanks about. But his was the only one that was filled.

The second day he chatted with Ieyasu for a good twenty or thirty minutes when the human brought him food (a fish that wasn't all that good, especially after all the convenience store sushi). Mitsutada had been so distracted by Masamune the day previous that he hadn't paid the other human much mind. He was quite nice though, and they had a good conversation. He explained some of the history of the aquarium and promised to talk more when he had the time.

By the third day, Mitsutada caved and asked about Ookurikara. It felt silly to want to see him -it had only been a few days after all-but after living so close, it was incredibly alien to not have the other around. He didn't want to be a bother of course, so he tried to be subtle about it, asking casually if Ieyasu had heard from the fisherman since the other day. "Miss him already?" Was followed by a short laugh when he realized how red the mermaid's face was. He explained that he hadn't heard from him yet, but that it was only a matter of time.

"For the meantime though, how about someone to keep you company? How would you feel about sharing your tank with a large fish?" Ieyasu's kindness shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Mitsutada's face lit up with a soft smile regardless. He hadn't talked to anything but humans in so long that the thought of being able to speak to another fish was more than enough to tweak the corners of his mouth.

The next day, Mitsutada started sharing his tank with a whale shark. Before he moved her in, Ieyasu explained that she was an older shark that had been living at the aquarium for years. She was a bit past her prime and he was worried about her health in a tank with many other fish, so he thought the quietness of the back would be good for her. Plus Mitsutada could look after her in case her health took a turn for the worse.

It had been ages since Mitsutada had been entrusted with anything and something about it was incredibly cool. He wasted no time swimming up and introducing himself, not even realizing that he had surprised Ieyasu. "Wait, you can talk to fish too?"

It turned out that the whale shark was actually far older than Ieyasu had said and as such welcomed the rest this back tank granted her. Conversation with her came easily-despite all her years in the aquarium, she had seen many things in the ocean. Her old territory was not too far from Mitsutada's underwater cave, and the two made fast friends remembering the same places. All of her experience meant she had endless stories to tell too. The days passed much more quickly with her in the tank, and Mitsutada felt a bit more like himself.

Of course, he still wanted to see his mate though. On the week mark, he decided to be more direct. "Will you contact Kuri-Chan for me? I want to make sure that he's alright." Ieyasu was more than happy to agree, promising to do so after work that evening and update the mermaid the next day. He was sure that the other's fisherman boyfriend was just busy and would be by to see him soon. Mitsutada smiled at this and tried his best not to worry. Worrying wasn't cool after all.

He couldn't help but worry when he saw Ieyasu's apologetic smile the next day. "I went to call Ookurikara and then I realized that I don't have his phone number," this explanation was followed by a nervous laugh, and Mitsutada's own smile widened. It didn't reach his eyes though. "I can call Masamune tonight and ask him to pass on the message, if that would help."

"If you could." There had been too much relying on people recently. From Ookurikara, to Masamune, and now Ieyasu, he had done nothing but accept others' kindness. Of course, letting other people help you was important for them as well as for you, but... Mitsutada frowned as the whale shark watched on. He hadn't supported himself at all recently. Somehow the scale had managed to become unbalanced and he didn't know how to amend it. It shouldn't be strange to want to swim with your own fins. Here Mitsutada rubbed his temples. But how was he supposed to swim on his own when there was nothing but land?


Two weeks passed. Ieyasu's smiles grew more awkward and he assured the fretting merman that Masamune would call him back as soon as he got in touch with Ookurikara. Mitsutada had started swimming back and forth in the tank as a sort of pacing. He wasn't worried about his Kuri-Chan. The fisherman was an adult and could take care of himself, even against those awful Keibishi and their foul ship and guns. He could hold his own, even if he was all alone against a group of many. Ookurikara didn't need help, or rather, never asked for it. He was fine, for sure.

But the lies Mitsutada told himself only stressed him out more.

The fact that Masamune hadn't contacted Ieyasu yet meant that he couldn't get a hold of Ookurikara. Of course, there were sure to be plenty of times he didn't have his phone him or maybe he had just been lazy about calling back. It wasn't as if he was unable to reach his phone because something had happened to him. And of course it wasn't because he didn't want to see Mitsutada anymore. He would show up any day now.

But the days kept passing, and not only did Mitsutada miss his mate, but he also missed the sea. He had figured out sometime in the first week that while the water tasted like the sea, it wasn't actually real sea water, something which the whale shark agreed was quite unfortunate indeed. The tank was certainly large, but nothing could compare to the never-ending vastness of the ocean. Where was the brine? Where was the stretch of seaweed and the light that filtered down and sparkled on bubbles? He missed the sound of the waves, and the colors that played across the top of the water when the sun set. Things were too sterile here.

He couldn't remember when he had last seen his family or friends. Sada-Chan must have been worried for sure. It had been ages since he last caught his own food; was he even still able to? Could he navigate through tricky rocks at top speed anymore? Did he remember the best places in the ocean to find sea urchins and the places to avoid?

Even rolling in memories, he couldn't quite grasp the ones he wanted. He recalled the many hours he spent combing the sea floor bottom for beautiful shells to present to Ookurikara. Or the practice it had taken to catch some of the rare fish he had used to prepare meals for the other. He wanted to go back to that pier. He wanted to chat until the sun went down and then pull Ookurikara down into the waves with him. It would be perfect, water still warm from the daylight, but dark enough to hide the fact that Ookurikara was very quickly losing items of clothing. If only he could mate with him in the water, feeling the waves splash against his back as the fisherman groaned in front of him. He needed the salt and the murky water and /Ookurikara/.

A long sigh escaped his lips, unbidden.


Somewhere between the second week slipping into the third, the whale shark took it upon herself to do something.

"Hmm? Oh, don't bother yourself with me. I am fine by all accounts." The smile wasn't fooling anyone, but Mitsutada had always been about keeping up appearances.

"I- Do I really look that distressed?" The mermaid sagged even more visibly and had to focus to keep himself from drifting to the bottom of the tank. There were probably bags under his eyes from the past few nights when he had been unable to fall asleep. He hadn't been eating enough either. It was obvious that things were very wrong. And with this, he had worried the whale shark, something which was not only inconsiderate, but also very un-cool. Of course, he missed his mate. Of course he missed the sea. Would he be willing to do anything to leave this place, and seek things out for himself?

"It's only natural that I would be willing to take on anything to get myself back to Kuri-Chan."

The whale paused, obviously considering what she was about to suggest. You see, if Mitsutada wanted it desperately enough, she could grant him the power to leave here and return to his mate. But in exchange, he would become something monstrous. She warned him that she knew no fish willing to go to such lengths, because not only did you become something hideous, but irreversibly so.

"You can do magic?" This bit of information was far more interesting than the consequences, since Mitsutada had already given up everything at this point. Without Ookurikara or the ocean, there was nothing left to lose.

The whale shark was quite amused by his question, but responded seriously nonetheless.

Anything that is loved enough can do magic.

And with that line echoing in his head, Mitsutada agreed.


It wasn't painful, at first. Everything tingled, like a small fire raced across his skin from the end of his tail all the way up to his scalp. It was warm and almost ticklish. A short laugh escaped his mouth, and that's when the pain seized him. Instead of breathing evenly as he usually did in the water, suddenly he was choking. Everything felt constricting and gasping only made it infinitely worse. Further, when he tried to swim up to the surface, his body felt endlessly heavy and his limbs were slow to respond. He barely managed to breach the water and grip the sides of the tank, coughing up water and shaking pitifully.

Being in the water had never felt so strange.

When the coughing finally subsided, and his lungs felt less like they were full of rocks, he took a moment to examine himself. His skin was slightly pinker and had lost some of its sheen. Otherwise his upper body was exactly the same as it was before. Looking down is what surprised him. He had legs. The long sparkling tail that he had always been so proud of had been exchanged for two incredibly human looking legs—smooth and pink and accompanied by the other parts that humans bore on their lower halves. Realizing that he wasn't too different from Ookurikara now, Mitsutada let out a laugh. Surely there was nothing "hideous" about this!

Without thinking, he dove back into the tank so he could share his happy news with the whale shark. The moment his body was fully immersed, the pain set in. While the water was usually filtered through his nostrils, this time it rushed in, suffocating him. His open eyes stung in the salt. His new legs flailed uselessly. He only just barely managed to get back to the side of the tank, repeating his coughing spell from earlier. This was ridiculous. How was he so exhausted already? So he couldn't breathe or see underwater anymore. That wasn't about to stop him from telling the whale shark that this new body wasn't that bad. He could learn to swim again. The fisherman could swim after all, so that meant that humans were capable, even if not to the same extent as mermaids. This time, he clamped his nose shut with his fingers before sinking back into the water. His eyes didn't sting as much if he opened them slowly. He could make this work. There was a smile on his lips when he opened his mouth to tell the whale shark this.

Water rushed into his mouth and down into his lungs for the third time that day.

It was only then, as he hacked up salt water on the edge of the tank that he fully realized the horror of what had happened to him. He could learn to swim again with time, but he would never again explore the depths of the ocean or swim for hours at a time. He couldn't filter water through his lungs like he had done before. And as a human, he could only understand other humans. He would never talk to another fish again. The whale shark looked on sadly from the depths of the tank.

TBC...