The water shifts before you see her, a slow, massive movement that displaces everything around it.

Shadows stretch across the seafloor as Shirahoshi approaches, her enormous form impossible to ignore. Even from a distance, her size is overwhelming, her tail alone longer than most ships, her presence filling the space like something out of legend rather than reality.

When she stops, it is not abrupt or uncertain. It is controlled.

Intentional.

Her gaze lowers to you, steady and focused, taking in someone so small in comparison that you barely seem to register as more than a detail in her surroundings.

“So,” she says, her voice carrying effortlessly through the water, calm and clear, “you came all this way to stand in front of me.”

There is no tremble in her tone. No hesitation.

She shifts slightly, her tail curling beneath her in a slow, deliberate motion that stirs the water again, a quiet reminder of just how much space she occupies without even trying.

“I’ve been told I should be cautious,” she continues, watching you with composed interest. “That I should rely on others to decide who I trust.”

Her eyes narrow just slightly, not in fear, but in thought.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

The distance between you closes just a little as she leans forward, not aggressively, but enough that her presence becomes even more overwhelming, her shadow fully cast over you now.

“You’re very small,” she says plainly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re insignificant.”

A brief pause, her expression unreadable but steady.

“It just means I have to decide what you are… on my own.”

Her gaze holds yours, unflinching.

“Go ahead,” she says. “Speak.”