Ryoma gazed up at the clear night sky, the full moon softly glowing in the starry, dark backdrop. The tiny, bright dots twinkled brightly, free of any light pollution that would normally dull their shine.
Underneath the midnight blanket, the soft light reflected on the vast ocean's surface in front of him, rippling with the sea's waves.
The waves crashed together against the shoreline's rocks, spraying beads of water into the air. The summer night temperature was a gentle cool, the salty sea breeze drifting by his face.
The small boy sat on the large, scattered rocks in front of the water, idly chewing on a sugary candy cigarette. A larger rock stood behind him, allowing him to lean back with his arms folded in content.
Nights like these were something Ryoma never thought he'd be able to experience again.
Then again, he never thought he'd be able to experience anything ever again.
Ever since he was scouted by Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Tennis Pro, the prison he was held in allowed him to attend and stay on campus for those three years.
Getting himself tangled up with a mafia over a rigged tennis match, winning the match, losing his loved ones by the hands of said mafia, his blood-soaked revenge...
All of this has led to his death row conviction.
The future had vanished before him, and he had become a killer.
But then, the prison received a letter from Hope's Peak. They wanted him to attend, despite the fact that he had given up tennis for good after his crime. He was reluctant at first, but with some convincing from some of the arguably friendlier prison staff, he enrolled.
Some restrictions were provided if he were to attend. He couldn't go anywhere outside school grounds without an escort, and he had to go back to prison once he graduated.
Things were a little different right now. It was currently summer break, and he and his class were spending their vacation in a beach house near the city.
Ryoma was allowed to go with them, or rather, he was dragged there, as long as he didn't leave their sights. And since he was technically still enrolled in Hope's Peak, he didn't have to go back to prison for the time being.
All of this was his classmate Kaede's idea. The Ultimate Pianist was essentially seen as the leader of the class, encouraging everyone to do their best and giving them confidence. She suggested that they spend more time together as a class, and the beach house idea was suggested.
Pretty much everyone agreed, although some like Himiko didn't really care, and much like him, Maki was only dragged along by Kaito. Kirumi chose the location, the maid intending to serve everyone during the vacation.
Despite being here, Ryoma opted to avoid interacting with them as much as possible. Some of them like Kaito, Kokichi, and Miu were noisy and rowdy. But most of all, he didn't want any of them associating with a murderer like him.
As much as they, and other students from Hope's Peak, tried getting him to open up, he never budged. He never liked having too much attention on himself, and his standing as both a prisoner and an Ultimate made people nosy. Either asking him about tennis or how he killed the mafia with just his tennis skills and an iron ball, he didn't oblige.
Ryoma found that nights were the best time to avoid everyone. They were all asleep in their rooms, therefore no one would bother him. It was quiet, and the silence made it easier to think. He couldn't do this on campus, needing an escort to be outside at night.
It was possible here, for some reason his classmates were more trusting of him to be on his own. The prisoner didn't know why, he would expect them to be more cautious of him. Yet, they all generally treated him like they would everyone else, like an equal.
What an odd bunch.
The scenery was pleasant, however, the moonlight glittering on the water's shifting surface. Maybe one of these nights he should just stand and wade in the shallow water, since swimming at night like this would be fairly risky.
Feeling a sudden sensation against his boots, Ryoma looked down.
Some seawater lapped up against the rocks, reaching up to his soles.
High tide must have been coming in.
Moving somewhere else was probably recommended.
The waves crashed up against the rocks, seeming a little more forceful than usual.
He made the decision to go sit on the larger rock behind him, extending higher above the ground and farther away from the water.
Ryoma turned back around.
Before he could stand up and leave, a larger wave formed.
Unable to react quickly enough, the powerful wave crashed over him, slamming onto the rocks.
Flailing, the strong current swept the prisoner out into the sea, pulling him underwater.
Hardly having the chance to hold his breath, the wave pushed him down, tossing him around in the current. Water sloshed in his ears as he spun, bubbles flying around haphazardly in his vision when he dared open his eyes. Muffled grunts sounded from his tightly closed mouth, struggling to escape the current.
Ryoma floundered as the spinning stopped, dizziness preventing him from trying to swim properly.
Attempting to shake off the disorientation, the boy made his way back to the surface.
At least he should have.
His clothes proved to be too heavy when soaked, so he simply sank.
None of his struggles provided any results.
The nighttime water was a dark azure, unable to see most of the environment around him except for the moonlit surface that was getting smaller the further down he sank.
Eyes wide, he swiftly looked downward, only to view an empty, black void below him.
The former tennis player didn't know what to do.
He couldn't get out of the water, and he was running out of already limited air.
Was he really going to drown?
His classmates were all asleep.
None of them knew of what was occurring outside of their rooms. They wouldn't even notice he went missing until morning came.
Bubbles left his nose.
Although he was on death row, dying before his execution date was something that never crossed his mind, at least back then.
What would Hope's Peak do if they find out that he died during his summer break? The prison he was housed in?
It was all too much for his oxygen-deprived brain. There was nothing he could do.
A sudden noise froze his train of thought, movement being heard in the water.
Ryoma's hearing being muffled, he swiftly turned his head in different directions to find the source of the sound.
His heart began to drum in his ears.
Something was in the water with him.
The prisoner wasn't the type to get scared or intimidated easily, but something lurking beneath the surface while he sank helplessly in the sea was making him uneasy. His round eyes were squinting hard, struggling to see what was in the darkness. It couldn't have been any of his classmates, and there were plenty of sea animals he knew that could potentially attack him.
He begged to some higher power, maybe even Angie's god, that it wasn't a whitetip reef shark.
Aside from the heavy ambience of the rolling ocean, it was quiet for a moment. Hopefully, he was just hearing things, and that there was nothing around.
Unfortunately, dropping his guard was shown to be a mistake.
As if on cue, he felt himself swiftly being grabbed from behind, arms wrapping themselves tightly around his torso.
Ryoma cried out in surprise, air bubbles leaving his mouth.
Squirming frantically to get loose, he kicked his short legs at whatever had him in their grip. His heart pounded even faster, feeling the tearing sensation of seawater making its way into his lungs. The hands he tried to pry off of him were, oddly enough, smooth and scaly.
Nothing the prisoner did was enough to get his mystery attacker to let go of him, maintaining a strong hold on his body.
He tried moving his arms behind him to try and smack them in the face, but they removed one of their arms around him to grab one of his flailing wrists instead.
A sharp pain was felt on his left forearm, as if teeth were piercing the leather from his jacket and sinking deep into his skin, unknowingly drawing blood.
Ryoma let out a muffled scream, more streams of bubbles leaving him.
The boy squeezed his eyes shut in pain, his wounded arm stinging with saltwater mixing in. Chest burning from the lack of air, lightheadedness creeped up on him. His desperate thrashing was starting to weaken, using the last of his energy to try and fight off his assailant.
Strangely, whatever they were let go of him. With his fading consciousness, he heard them leave with the swishing of water, abandoning him to bleed and sink into the depths.
Feeling the remaining air leaving him, small bubbles escaped him to float away. Calling out for help wasn't an option, his voice reduced to breathless, garbled sounds.
His already dark surroundings became even darker, the surface drifting away from him disappearing completely.
Alone in the deep, the lifeless prisoner sank into the dark abyss, blood wafting from his open wound in smoky wisps.
...
...
...
...
One of the last things he was expecting was to wake up.
...Huh...?
The pain in his left arm still throbbing, Ryoma slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry and doubled.
...Where was he...?
He was alive...?
The confused prisoner rubbed his eyes, his eyesight attempting to correct itself as he took in his surroundings.
There was nothing but blue, stretching for miles on end. There was sand everywhere, rocks resting in the ground. Plants were littered about, swaying back and forth gently. Coral was scattered...
Coral...?
His environment became clear to him in that moment.
One of the very last things he was expecting was to wake up underwater.
His eyes shooting completely open, Ryoma sat up and involuntarily gasped, realizing he was lying in the soft sand under the sea. He clasped his hand over his mouth, expecting water to enter his system again, filling his lungs and choking him to death.
To his confusion, nothing happened.
Removing his hands, Ryoma risked it and took a deep breath.
One of the very, very last things he was expecting was to wake up with the ability to breathe underwater.
No matter how much he inhaled or exhaled, it was as if he were breathing on land like normal.
Not only that, his eyesight seemed much brighter and sharper, able to see despite the darkness in the ocean. His hearing wasn't muffled either, the heavy ambience of the water around him sounding more clear and audible.
And now that he put some thought into it, didn't his hands feel a little bit different when he touched his face?
Maybe he was just overthinking.
Ryoma reached with his uninjured arm to scratch the back of his head...
...only to feel something sharp and pointy digging into his scalp.
The ex-tennis player winced and quickly retracted his hand from his head.
His nails weren't that long... he always kept them short. So why...?
Ryoma looked down at his small hand.
His eyes widened, discovering an unbelievable sight.
He couldn't tell if it was from being underwater, but his skin was now a dark blue color. His nails were now long, sharp claws, and in between his fingers, there was webbing much akin to an aquatic animal lining the empty spaces. The prisoner quickly moved them around, the webbing stretching out as he splayed his fingers.
Wha...?!
Ryoma rapidly started touching his face again. As he thought, his skin felt different.
It felt... scaly?
It was almost fish-like in a way, smooth and a little tough.
The most important thing he found was that his entire face had changed.
In place of his button-like nose, he had a short snout. His ears had become fins, his cartilage piercing still resting where his right ear would have been.
After inspecting his face, Ryoma simply stared down in utter disbelief, eyes falling to his hands again.
What the hell happened to him?
His mind was reeling. The last thing he remembered was being attacked and bitten by something he couldn't see, and passing out.
Did whatever attacked him possibly cause this?
He didn't believe in myths or the supernatural, but it had to be the only explanation. Running his fingers over his left arm, the prisoner felt the holes in the leather sleeve where he was bitten.
It was like he had become some sort of odd, monster-like creature, gliding his thumb over the smooth claws on his fingers.
Ryoma looked around. To the left of him in the distance, he could see a small cave, surrounded by coral. The cave was obscured behind a small kelp forest, the tall weeds guarding its entrance.
The part of the seafloor he had seen when he woke up was mostly rocks, although there was coral and other aquatic plants littered about. He craned his neck upwards, looking up at the surface above him.
It didn't look that far away from him, despite what he thought earlier.
Although it confused him, he was grateful he didn't sink too deep underwater.
Could he even swim back to the surface, though? The whole reason why he was even here was because high tide swept him out to sea, his clothes weighing him down and preventing him from escaping the water.
Maybe it would be easier now that he looked like this...
This was all so strange, but it was worth a shot. He couldn't stay stuck down here forever, after all.
Ryoma sighed, a few small bubbles leaving the nostrils on his snout.
The prisoner stood up, and with all of his strength, jumped up and tried to swim.
To his surprise, he felt weightless, his clothes and even the metal shackle around his left leg weren't slowing him down.
He exhaled in relief, his ability to breathe underwater making it possible.
Not wasting a minute longer, he began swimming upwards, his now-webbed hands making it easier to paddle.
Something swaying from side to side near his back was felt as he made his way to the surface.
...Did he have a tail, too?
The ex-tennis player wondered how much of his body had changed. Did he have claws and webbing on his feet as well? Was his hair different?
All of this might be figured out once he was in front of a mirror.
Eventually, he breached the water's surface, taking a breath no longer being a necessity. From where he was, he wasn't that far offshore, though he was a sizable distance from where he was originally swept into the water.
Making it to the sandy shore, he took off his wet jacket and looked at the sleeve on his prison jumpsuit.
As he suspected, it had blood on it from the bite, the holes in it matching the ones in his jacket. He would have to look at the wound when he got back to his room, a bite wound from an unknown creature was bound to get infected if left alone.
Ryoma wondered if whatever attacked him was the same creature he had seemingly turned into, the hand he touched trying to fight them off feeling the exact same way as his skin, scaly and tough.
Who knows.
Being as quiet as possible, he headed towards the beach house, slowly making his way up the wooden steps.
Far behind him, a pair of eyes were silently watching him from the sea before slipping beneath the waves, leaving bubbles in their wake.
The wooden house itself wasn't too large, but it wasn't too small, either. It was low to the ground, and the front porch had a windowed sliding door, giving a good view of the sea. There were a few smaller porches on the sides, also facing the water.
The rooms were big enough for at least two people each. The boys only stayed with the boys, and girls only stayed with the girls. Him, Maki, Korekiyo, and Kirumi had rooms to themselves. The extra company would bother the formers, and Kirumi simply had one by those circumstances.
Ryoma chose the room at the very end of the hallway, in an attempt to keep his distance from the other students.
Swiftly going to the bathroom to grab a towel and first aid supplies, he headed down the hall with silent steps.
He slowly opened the door to his room, having a simple bed, nightstand, closet, and TV. The prisoner didn't bother turning the lights on, having his newfound ability to see in the dark.
Quietly shutting the door and placing his soaked jacket onto the towel, he picked up some peroxide and cotton balls from the first aid supplies he grabbed. He rolled up his blood-stained sleeve, ready to clean the bite wound.
Ryoma's round eyes widened.
What...?
To his complete shock, the wound was gone.
It was almost like it was never there, his skin being completely unscathed.
Vanished, not even leaving a scar. Nowhere to be seen, no matter how much he turned his arm around to look for it.
Ryoma gawked at his arm, mouth slightly agape in confusion.
He didn't know what to think anymore.
It was one strange thing after another, and he couldn't process any of it.
The ex-tennis player grimaced and slowly shook his head, rolling his sleeve back down.
Ryoma began to change out of his clothes, removing his pointed beanie to dry his face and hair. Touching the top of his head, he felt another fin, curving back like a fish's dorsal fin.
The next thing he took off was his shoes.
Like he thought, the claws and webbing on his hands were on his feet, too. On top of that, they appeared paw-like, three toes housing the webbing between them.
Sighing deeply, Ryoma dried himself the rest of his body, now being completely covered in fish-like scales. He couldn't shower right now if didn't want to alert any of the others, so he would have to wait until he was sure no one was around to see him.
Changing into a new jumpsuit he grabbed from his closet, the boy stared down at his wet clothes.
Unsure of what to do about them, especially his shirt with the bloody sleeve, the prisoner wrapped them up in the used towel and placed them in the closet. He hid the first aid supplies in the closet as well, planning on returning them to the bathroom in the morning. Aside from the shirt and pierced jacket, he would put everything else in the laundry.
Closing the closet door, he looked into the mirror next to it.
Ryoma finally understood why his eyesight was so great in the dark.
His charcoal-colored eyes were glowing, a soft cyan color taking its place.
It was jarring, the bright light faintly illuminating the mirror.
Pointed beanie off, he could see the curved fin on top of his head, sitting in his pale red, cropped hair, which hadn't changed. Strangely enough, his cheeks were still that pink, rosy color as well.
Curious, he checked his teeth.
They were short, but sharp. Running his tongue over the small canines, he could feel how pointy they were. Spotting his tail behind him in the mirror, darker blue, crown-shaped fins ran down to the end of it.
The tail proved to be a nuisance, struggling to fit it through his jumpsuit when he changed his clothes.
Ryoma gazed blankly at his reflection in the mirror.
What was he going to do about all of this?
His classmates couldn't see him like this, they'd freak out. Even if he tried to hide, they would look for him eventually.
What would he do when he returned to Hope's Peak? They'd freak out, too. He would have to explain everything, and worst of all, everyone would be looking his way. Staring, questioning him, trying to see what all changed about his appearance.
It made him anxious. His mind was racing, unable to think of any possible solution to this outlandish turn of events.
Was he going to stay like this forever? Whatever bit him supposedly turned him into this... thing, and he didn't even have close to any ideas on what to do about it. It was something straight out of a storybook, and he couldn't shake the fact that this was even real.
This all felt like a bad dream, and he wasn't waking up from it.
Ryoma placed a clawed hand on his head and sighed dejectedly.
All he could do right now is sleep on it. Maybe he could figure out a plan in the morning, since he always woke up at dawn before most of the others.
Kirumi would likely be awake however. She always prepared breakfast for everyone before they woke up themselves. He would have to avoid being spotted by her so he could sneak by.
How he would be able to do that was anyone's guess.
With that aside, the prisoner turned away from the mirror and dragged himself to his bed.
Pulling the covers over himself, Ryoma tried to hide underneath the sheets as much as possible in the unlikely event that someone came in. His glowing eyes peeking from the covers, he lay for a while, restlessly staring at the night sky outside of the window.
Now that he looked like this, how many other things would change in his life?
He could breathe underwater, his swimming ability was better, and he could see in the dark. Possessed claws and fangs.
But what was he supposed to do with any of that?
There wasn't any use for them.
The claws made it hard to touch any part of his body without accidentally pricking himself. The tail was simply annoying to fit through his clothes.
Swimming would be easier, yes, but what exactly did that do for him?
Ryoma closed his eyes.
There were so many questions he had, and yet, there was no answer for any of them. Trying to find them was making his head hurt, his confusion gradually increasing.
The prisoner tried to force himself to sleep, pushing his thoughts in the back of his mind.
Because the biggest question on his mind was...
...Why did any of this have to happen to him?