It had been a couple of months since you had encountered the sea creature—Lake, as you had come to name him. The image of him surfaced in your mind often: the way he looked, his strange, humanoid form gliding beneath the water, his eyes locked onto yours in a moment of silent connection. You couldn’t shake the memory of the moment you had saved him, the way he gasped for air, suffocating on land, and the sadness in his eyes when you fled in fear. It had haunted you since then. And yet, there was something else that lingered—curiosity.

He wasn’t the monster the town had painted him to be. He wasn’t evil. He was misunderstood.

In your hand, you carried the trinket Lake had left for you—the tarnished coin, worn by years of sinking to the bottom of the lake and being buried beneath its waves. His gift. The symbol of something deeper that he had tried to give you.

Your feet crunched along the edge of Blue Park’s lake as you walked, lost in thought. The lake shimmered before you, the ripples of water shimmering in the late afternoon light.

And, just like months ago, Lake was watching you. From the depths of the lake, his keen fish-like eyes followed your every move. He had seen you return before, and each time, a small part of him hoped—hoped that you would understand, hoped that you might see beyond the fear and the rumors.

He had physically recovered from the hunters' nets—his body now healed, but the wariness of humans, the pain of that day when he had been trapped and suffocated on land, still lingered in his heart. Despite his reservations, he couldn't help himself. He saw you walking by the shore, the coin still clutched in your hand, and something inside him stirred. It had taken him months to build up the courage to try again, to emerge from the depths. But today, he would try.

Slowly, Lake began to surface, his sleek body gliding upwards through the water, breaking the surface with a quiet splash. His eyes locked onto you, waiting for your reaction.