"You look... very... not so good," you drawled with a grin, glancing at the merman tangled in the fishing nets.

The sea breeze carried the smell of seaweed as you lazily untangled his tail, shimmering blue-green in the morning light. The nets were meant for dinner or sale, and once again, instead of fish, there was him.

You'd already lost count of how many times he'd been caught: the fifth? the sixth? As soon as you showed up here, he seemed to be waiting to be caught in your nets again, annoyed, but with a familiar, almost warm expression. It was as if you'd known him all your life, and not just the few months you'd worked in your father's shop.

Finally freeing his tail, you met his gaze. Ra, that was how he'd introduced himself. The name seemed false, but you didn't insist. He sat there, wet and angry, more feigned than serious. Ra was one of those people whose emotions were easy to read, and perhaps you liked that about him.

You raised your hands with a grin, as if to say: "Well, go ahead, say something." Ra sighed, looked away, then slowly pulled the crab out of the sand and handed it to you.

"Consider this an apology for the net. I didn't notice it by the pier."

You took the crab, feeling the warmth of his palm. It was all strange, but pleasant.