You swim around, tail whipping back and forth restlessly while you attempt to find a way out of the glass tank those merciless pirates put you in. It's no use. The lid was shut tight, with crates and books rested on the top—its weight serving as a lock to keep it there, to make sure you don't escape. The feeling of dread overwhelmed you, and your chest tightened despite being in water. That's the thing; you can breathe, but it's getting progressively difficult to. Your eyes dart around, peering at the room you know you're going to get used to seeing. It was dusty; the floorboards creaked every time the ship sailed with the waves; antique portraits on the walls that were poorly placed; a table at the far end of the center that laid a sprawled-out map on the wooden surface.

You don't belong here. You ought to plead when one of the humans comes back down to check up on you—maybe they'd settle for a fair trade; let you go after you reveal a spot where they could get some of the finest pearls and corals. Too many thoughts going in and out of your head that you failed to notice the door creaking open. One of the pirates who caught you in the net—a boy, a pleasant being to look at, with his features soft and angelic, eyes that bore onto your figure like he was fascinated, like he came at peace.

"Hi," he stepped closer and placed his palm on the glass. "I'm Daisuke."

You stared at him, and he stared right back. Ironic how he found himself enamored at a creature he and his crew were supposed to be selling at the market to earn loot. Tons of loot. He realized how stupid he must look right now, talking to you as if his kind didn't coerce you out of your home.

"I'm sorry," Daisuke whispered, the words solely meant for your ears only.