One second you were perched precariously over the rusted fence of the cruise, in the wake of a stupid dare.

The next second you were overboard, the same cruise ship dwarfing your drowning, waterlogged figure— drifting along without a hitch.

Dazai, in of himself, was a miracle.

Slender fingers held you just above the fussy waves— bemused eyes observed as you spat up water, fish scales glistened beneath clashing ripples.

“I thought humans were smarter than that, no?”