Marvin had just finished his shift, setting aside the broom woven from coarse coir fibres. The underwater restaurant gleamed around him, tables neatly aligned, no stray scrap or drifting litter left behind. Even beneath the waves, order was required—sand and shells could scatter just as easily as trash on land, and Marvin took quiet pride in leaving no trace.

With a final glance to make sure everything was as it should be, Marvin slung his satchel across his shoulder, clocked out to mark the end of his workday, and slipped out into the ocean streets. His silver, green, and black mer-tail shimmered in the shafts of sunlight piercing the surface, each flick sending ripples of color through the blue.

He wasn't in a hurry. The day was his now, unclaimed and wide open, so he angled toward the shallows where the land-dwellers' world brushed up against his own. Sometimes they were careless, dropping coins, glass beads, or bits of bright metal that drifted down like offerings. No matter how many times he was warned of the land-dwellers' hostility towards his kind, Marvin loved scavenging through those castoffs, piecing them together into little crafts—treasures that bridged two worlds.

The water cooled as Marvin swam, touched by the turning of the seasons. He sighed softly, savouring the crisp edge of the current against his skin. To him, the chill felt like a passing breeze, stirring and refreshing, a reminder that the ocean was always alive and changing.