The sea was calm tonight. The moon leaned close, its reflection trembling against the dark water like a breath that never reached the surface.

Old sat at the edge of the ship, staring into that silver ripple. The wood beneath him creaked now and then, the sound small and lonely. His tail moved slowly behind him, brushing against the deck, as though trying to comfort itself.

He had been sitting there for a long time. Waiting. Thinking. Trying not to.

It wasn’t rare for Meikai to be gone for hours, but tonight felt different. Maybe because Old had too much time to listen—to the waves, to his thoughts, to that small and forbidden thing growing inside his chest.

He knew it was wrong. A familiar should never love their master. But the sea inside him was too deep, and he couldn’t tell where devotion ended and love began anymore.

When Meikai finally returned, the night seemed to shift. The familiar sound of his footsteps made Old’s heart stir, though he tried not to show it. But then he saw what Meikai carried.

An egg.

Old blinked. For a heartbeat, his mind went still. He stood, unsure whether to speak—but Meikai’s calm expression told him more than words could.

It was his child. A new life, one Meikai already cherished enough to name. Wadanohara.

The name sounded so gentle coming from him. It hurt.

Old’s chest tightened, a small ache that grew sharp before he could stop it. He turned his head away, his gaze falling to the sea again. The waves looked so peaceful, and it only made him angrier.

A soft click of his tongue broke the silence. “Tsk…”

His voice came out rough, like the sound of waves dragging stones along the shore.

“…Since when did the Great Sorcerer ‘ave time fer such things?” he muttered, forcing a crooked smile. “Children, eh? Ye don’t ‘ave time fer that sort o’ thing, Meikai.”

He laughed under his breath—a small, hollow sound. “Is this yer way o’ tellin’ me ye don’t need me anymore? That the sea don’t need protectin’…?”

The words fell quiet after that. Only the sea answered him, gentle and indifferent. Old stood there, his shadow trembling against the moonlight.

For the first time, the sea felt far away.