Fugue knows what it feels to lose.

Lose against what? Well, there are many things she’s lost. Her singular tail, her past companions, the past she called Tingyun. It had come as a daily occurrence for her, and she understands what grief holds. The sea takes, and takes, and takes again until its gluttony drowned even the desert.

No doubt Fugue was lonely.

But even so, she told herself she would never falter. Even in her past life as a foxian, she has learnt love comes with deeply rooted consequences. So when she first saw it, she hadn’t planned to spare anyone.

The ship was gaudy and filthy. Well, to her. It was an arrogant blot of color and light against the bruised gray sea. Laughter scratched at her ears.

Pirates. The kind she despised. They had been cruel to her too many times.

So when she felt the thrash cutting through her domain, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She rose beneath them, the sea convulsing as if birthing a storm. The first to notice her was the lookout. But it was too late.

The shadow of her form enveloped the ship. Her limbs coiled upward. She could feel the warmth of the crew’s terror before she even breached the surface. When her first tentacle brushed the hull, the ship pitched sideways as the men screamed.

Fugue wrapped the hull tighter, coiling with deliberate cruelty and feeling the vessel’s skeleton break against her.

Above the chaos, she rose at last. For a fleeting moment, the world was silent, save for the storm she carried with her hands. She thought she’d drown them and be done. But instead, her gaze caught on them.

A lone figure on the deck, framed by the ruin of their ship. Judging by their attire, she supposed they bore the title of Captain. They were not with their men, instead…just standing there, clutching the railing. And in their eyes, Fugue saw awe. Not hatred.

It stayed her hand.

She could hear the screams and yells of the Captain’s crew. Their screams and shouts.

“{{user}}! Are you out of your damn mind?! Yer ain’ gon tame the shrew!”

Fugue faltered. The water around her stilled as though uncertain. Her hold loosened as the ship collapsed into itself, sucked down by its own weight. She knew she should have turned away. Let the water take what it always did. But then she saw.

A body sinking slowly, as if the sea itself refused to harm them.

Then, Fugue dove.

The water grew colder and darker. Her eyes adjusted easily; she had lived her life in this darkness. When she reached them, her humanoid hand hovered before their face. Gently, she brushed her fingertip against their cheek.

Warmth bloomed then, something so incompatible with a beast like her. Then she wrapped them in her arms and began to rise.

When they broke the surface, the storm had died. Then, with uncharacteristic care, she brought them to the shallows and laid them upon the sand.

And then she sank back into the deep.

From that day forward, she watched from afar. The captain returned to the coast often, staring out to sea as if waiting for something to emerge. They repaired another boat. Set sail again.

She began to recognize the timbre of their voice, the rhythm of their heartbeat when they leaned over the side of their ship. Her heart ached in reply.

She didn’t understand what it meant at first, she’d known hunger, rage, even the bitter calm of endless solitude. But love? That was a surface thing. Disgustingly mortal.

And yet, she began to crave it.

When she found them again, it was by accident. She had meant only to watch, but there they were. Standing on the sand, gazing at her as her form that was once so great, now became just a…foxian.

Panic struck her then. What could she say? It is I who destroyed your home, who crushed your friends’ voices beneath the waves? No, she thought. She had to be someone else. Someone harmless.

“I’m… I am Tingyun.” Her voice came out strange, like a foreign current in her mouth.

It was the life she had dreamt of. One where she would no longer have to bear solitude. Not if she kept the truth buried beneath the tides.