Chapter 3

Days passed quickly, and life became very quiet.

He would come every day. There was no fixed time; sometimes you would wake up to find him sitting beside you, and other times you would be lost in thought, only to look up and meet those golden slit pupils.

He never made a sound.

He just watched you.

At first, it made your skin crawl. Anyone would be terrified to be stared at by a pair of beast-like slit pupils.

But later, you realized that he wasn't just looking at you.

He was watching what you were doing.

When you ate, he watched. When you daydreamed, he watched. When you tried to talk to the bioluminescent fish, he watched as well. It was as if every little thing you did was fascinating to him.

Once, you were so bored that you started counting pearls. In the middle of counting, you turned around and found him still watching.

You suddenly felt a bit like laughing.

"Aren't you bored?" you asked.

He looked at you and didn't speak.

But a tentacle reached over and gently brushed against the back of your hand.

It was as if to say:

Not bored.

You looked down at that tentacle.

Over these past few days, you had realized that the tentacles were far more expressive than he was.

When you were happy, they would sway gently, like seagrass dancing.

When you were afraid, they would coil a bit tighter, circling you in the center.

When you tried to swim away, they would block you—never hurting you, just being persistent.

Like now, when you didn't know what to say, that tentacle kept rubbing back and forth against the back of your hand, tickling you.

You reached out and poked it.

He picked you up and settled you in the crook of his arm, like one would hold a child.

You sat on his forearm, your legs dangling and swaying in the water. His forearm was thicker than your thigh; within his embrace, you were like a curled-up cat.

The tentacle recoiled for a moment, then wound around again, entwining itself with your fingers.

You looked up at him.

His expression was blank, but those tentacles—those tentacles were waving cheerfully behind his back, like a pack of puppies wagging their tails.

You couldn't help but laugh out loud.

He tilted his head slightly.

You didn't know if he understood why you were laughing.

But those tentacles waved even more joyfully.

He began to touch you.

Not the hesitant, confirming touches from before.

These were more natural, more like... a habit.

When you ate, he would reach out to brush away crumbs from the corner of your mouth.

When you daydreamed, his fingertips would twirl the stray strands of hair near your ear.

When you slept, those tentacles would quietly coil upward, encircling your entire body.

You would wake to find yourself surrounded by countless tentacles, like prey that had been captured.

But you weren't afraid anymore.

Because those tentacles were light and warm, like a living quilt.

You tried to move, and they immediately tightened a fraction.

You moved again, and they tightened further.

Eventually, you were wrapped so securely that only your head remained visible.

Helplessly, you turned your head to look at him.

He lay right beside you, propping his head up with one hand, watching you.

In those golden slit pupils, there was a faint glint of light.

You couldn't tell if it was the reflection of the bioluminescent glow or something else entirely.

"Let go," you said. "I need to get up."

He didn't move.

But the tentacles loosened, one by one, slowly retreating.

You sat up and looked down at the faint marks on your body—the places where they had held you always left shallow imprints, like petals fallen upon the skin.

You looked back at him.

He was still watching you.

"Is this all you do every day, just watch me?" you asked. "Aren't you bored?"

He didn't speak.

But a tentacle reached out, gently tapping against your heart.

*Not bored.*

The voice resonated in your brain.

You froze for a moment.

This was the first time in all these days that he had initiated speech without you asking a question first.

You looked at the tentacle; it retracted, intertwining with the others as if pretending nothing had happened.

But you saw the tips of those tentacles curling slightly, as if they were shy.

Suddenly, you felt that this creature—perhaps he wasn't so terrifying after all.

That day, he was not there.

This was one of the few times you had woken up without seeing him.

You sat by the edge of the shell and waited for a while.

He didn't come.

You waited a bit longer.

Still, he did not appear.

You stood up and peered toward the tunnel. It was pitch black; you could see nothing.

Anxiety began to stir within you.

But you couldn't quite say why you were uneasy. Didn't he often leave for periods of time anyway?

You sat back down and started counting pearls.

When you reached one hundred and thirty-seven, you felt something was wrong.

The water shifted.

It wasn't the usual slow, steady current, but the distinct movement of something approaching.

You stood up and took a step back.

In the tunnel, a shadow appeared.

It wasn't him.

The shadow was smaller than his, and more slender. In the darkness, a pair of eyes lit up—

They weren't golden.

They were a ghastly, pale white.

You turned and ran.

But after only a few strokes, something icy coiled around your ankle. It wasn't his tentacle—this was thinner, colder, and carried a foul, fishy stench.

You were jerked back violently.

A face lunged toward yours.

It was humanoid, but the skin was a sickly ashen gray, the eyes were dead white, and its mouth was split wide to the ears, revealing rows of densely packed, razor-sharp teeth.

"A human?" it rasped, its voice like fingernails scraping across glass. "Alive? That fellow Kaelen... he’s actually hiding such a delicacy..."

You struggled desperately.

But its tentacles tightened further, dragging you toward it. You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Just as its jaws were about to sink into your shoulder—

A streak of spectral blue light slashed out from the darkness.

The tentacles binding you were instantly severed.

You fell into another embrace.

Warm, familiar, and carrying the scent of those soft tentacles.

You looked up.

His expression was blank, but those golden slit pupils—

You had never seen that kind of look in his eyes before.

It was as if something had exploded within them.

He placed you behind him.

Then, he glanced back at you.

Just once.

You understood the silent command:

*Stay still.*