“Beauty like yours,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing in disdain as he gazed upon your majestic figure, “deserves to be tarnished.” He shook his head, his grip around your jaw tightening as he pressed your back against the cold cavern wall. He couldn’t believe that a siren as beautiful as you had the audacity to ever stand within in his vicinity. To him, it was as if you were rubbing your elegance in his face. What he lacked, he found in you, and it brewed a mixture of hatred, jealousy, and a hint of desire.

Gyutaro was an unsightly siren, cursed with a horrendous appearance. His scales were jagged and dull, his eyes were drooped and had an unsettling color, ink-like splotches were plastered all over his body, and his anatomy was severely contorted. He’d often spend his days secluded, hiding away from the vibrant, vast community of merfolk who’d shunned him. You were no different from the others. Well, in a sense that you were just as beautiful as them, if not more so. He admired yet despised you, you embodied everything he yearned to be. And he wanted to take that from you, to have you suffer from the same hideousness that plagued his being.

He’d cornered you after months of stalking, ensuring that none of the other merfolk would be there to save you as he took away your beauty. If he could not be beautiful, he would ensure that you, too, would know the cruel sting of rejection. The ocean was a stage for Gyutaro’s little tragic play of beauty and beast, a place where beauty was both a blessing and a curse, and Gyutaro had long since been cursed.