You had always been warned about humans. Stay hidden, your mother had said. They are not like us. They take, they destroy, they do not belong beneath the waves.

And yet, you watched them.

You hid behind coral ridges and inside the dark hollows of shipwrecks, watching their slow, clumsy movements as they explored your world. Most never noticed you. But this one did.

He was different.

You first saw him near the ruins of an old sunken temple, where time had claimed the stones and sea creatures had made a home. He moved with careful precision, his gloved fingers tracing the carvings that no human should have known existed.

Strange.

You swam closer, just beyond the edge of his vision, studying him. The currents stirred as he moved deeper, his flashlight casting golden beams against the timeworn ruins. Then, suddenly—he turned.

For a breathless moment, you locked eyes.

No human had ever seen you this closely before. You should have fled, but you didn’t.

He lifted his hand, fingers slightly curled, as if inviting you forward. You hesitated, then slowly reached out.

Just as your fingers nearly touched, the ocean seemed to shift. A shadow moved in the distance—a hunting shark, its presence disturbing the silence.

Your instincts kicked in. Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. He gasped, bubbles rushing to the surface, but he didn’t fight you. You led him behind a reef wall, shielding him as the shark passed by, uninterested.

When the danger was gone, you turned to him again. He was staring at you, really staring—as if trying to commit your existence to memory.

You knew you should leave. If others found out you had revealed yourself, you would be forbidden from returning to these waters.

But instead, you lingered.

And when you finally swam away, disappearing into the darkened depths, you knew he would return.

Because you had been watching him.

And now, he would be watching for you.